Servant to the Prince of Darkness

Chapter 19: lonliness

"I think I'm understanding this whole-sickness. I feel. So. Weak." He talks! I had finally found the room. I'd neglected the fact that I should have asked her what the numbers meant. I was wondering around, trying random doors, for like 30 minutes.

"Realization of a sickness can only make it worse." If you think about it, once we realize we're sick or hurt, we feel the pain with so much more force.

The door swung open, revealing a dark hotel room. I searched for the light switch, which was conveniently by the door. As soon as I flipped the switch I was blinded by the light for a moment.

The room had plain beige walls and an orange sheeted beds. There was a t.v. across from the beds as well. It was an old clunky one, but I wasn't complaining.

I set Amos down of the first bed and he closed his eyes immediately. I quickly went to the bathroom and found the smallest rag I could find. I soaked it in cool water and placed it in his forehead.

"I think this will help." I didn't realize I'd said that out loud.

"Think? That's  it comforting." He made a sour face. "Why is it so cold?" He was pale and shaking.

"Your fever is spiking. Here get under the blankets." I helped him under the blankets, but his teeth were still chattering. So I grabbed the blankets off of my bed and threw them on the bed for of him.

I dabbed his head with the wet cloth and then took it off his head. Then decided against the wet cloth, I mean, who wants to me wet when they're sick?

I gave him some water. A little bit of food, but mainly just kept him drinking.

After a while he fell asleep. So I began to watch some t.v. There wasn't anything particularly interesting, so I settled on some nature show.

I checked Amos's temperature with my hand and decided his fever was coming back down. I knew he'd be hot when he woke up, so I took my blankets back to my own bed.

I was kind of excited to sleep in my own bed. I hadn't done it for a while.

May. It was barely a whisper in my mind. I looked over at him.

"Amos?" I asked quietly. Was he really asleep? I waved my hand in front of him.

No reaction.

Was he dreaming? I sat on the edge of his bed and felt his forehead one last time. It was still warm, but it wasn't too hot. He might just be having a fever dream.

I want to get up when I heard, no please, don't go. Was he talking to me? He sounded distant. And so remorseful. I decided to do something I knew he'd have my hide for.

Peak into his mind.

I mean, since he was sick, he was vulnerable, right?

I closed my eyes and focused on our link. He was still guarded, but it was wavering. I pushed a bit more and saw him quivering in a corner. Cuts and bruises covered his arms. I could feel everything he was feeling. Fear, sorrow, anger, but the worst feeling I could tell was loneliness. He felt so alone.

I looked closer and saw his clothes were stained with blood. It didn't look like his either. I snapped out of his mind and opened my eyes. Amos was still sleeping, and he had a slight frown about his face. I sighed.

I entered his mind again, ignoring his dirty body, I wrapped my arms around him. He was shaking? Was he crying or scared? It didn't matter.

You're not alone. I whispered gently into his mind. I was jolted out of his mind by his arms wrapping around my torso.

I awkwardly got in and laid next to him. He adjusted his arms. He was now laying on my stomach, cuddling close to it like it was his only source of warmth.

Don't leave me alone. I barely caught it. It was like a feint whisper in the wind. But I did hear it. And it jarred me.

I ran my hand through his jet black hair. It was soft. Little matted, but soft.

"I won't. Now get some sleep." I turned off the t.v. and began drifting off as well.