Indigo

VIII

The last thing that I remembered was the car going faster and Lucas reassuring me that everything would be fine. It sounded more like he was reassuring himself.

I let my eyelids fall, succumbing to the terribleness of the pain. My body was being engulfed in flames.

I could feel hot beads of sweat dripping down my forehead. Maybe fifteen minutes later, the car stopped.

I tried to sit up, but all I could see was red flashes. I tried to sit up and failed.

Lucas ran to my side of the car and hoisted me into his arms. I tried to speak, but he stopped me.

"Shhh. Save your strength, you're going to need it." He was right of course. After he spoke, I quickly passed out in his protective arms.
*********************

I may have been unable to lift my eyelids or control my body, but I was perfectly conscious. Being in this state of tangible darkness, I felt as though I was burning alive. I could hear everything, feel everything.

"Don't worry," I could hear him. "I've got you, you're going to be fine. Nothing's wrong, nothing's gonna happen ."

I was set down on something soft, a bed maybe.

"I assuming that you can hear me...." He waited for a response that wouldn't come, "But sorry, this might hurt."

As he spoke, something sharp punctured the skin on the inside of my left elbow. The ever-burning flames cooled a few degrees.

The process of injection continued for a few more days, I'm not sure how many, I still couldn't see anything. The fire had died down, but I was still engulfed in warmth.

Suddenly, my eyes opened. I tried to speak, but my voice came out as a hoarse, croaked whisper.

"Lucas?" His head, buried in his hands, snapped up and raced to the bedside.

"Hey, don't strain yourself." He ran randomly around the room, looking for something.

I noticed his legs shaking, maybe from sleep deprivation, but mostly he just looked relieved that I was awake. He finally found what he was looking for.

"Here, take this," He handed me a piece of paper and a pen. I quickly scrawled, What happened? , my hand jittering from the effort.

"Brayden, he broke the skin, his claws must've injected a toxin into your
bloodstream." What's in my arm?

"An IV attachment... You really needed it, your temperature's been 105 for three days." So that's why I was sweating. Where are we?

"In a hotel, still in Panama." My shaky hands grasped the pen, Ice?

"Yeah, sure," he skirted around the hotel room, picking up the ice bucket on his way out.

He was exhausted, I could tell. He'd probably been trying to keep me alive, not worrying about himself. He bumped into the desk and winced.

When he was gone, I looked up. Two IV bags hung from what supposedly was a wall lamp.

Was I really that sick? I tried to sit up and make myself more comfortable, but the pain of a thousand needles stopped me.

How long would I be like this?
*************************************Media is Lucas...
     ALLONS-Y!!!
-AJSmith