Burning Ice & Freezing Fire

Burn?!

"Robbie! Come on, Robbie! Wake up! Look at me! Please!!"

Sportacus can't hold back a few tears of desperation any longer.

He needs all of his concentration to keep himself from panicking.

The felf hasn't been responsive in any way for over ten minutes now already.

The only thing he does is curling up, back into fetal position each time Sportacus has carefully managed to stretch him out again. And the only sounds he makes are either low, painful groans or whines, and, of course still this disturbing panting...

The hero is trying to lower his temperature with a damp cloth on his forehead and leg compresses, but he's doubting that this will help any.

This is no regular fever.

Neither are Robbie's stomach aches ordinary cramps.

The felf isn't sick. Not in a...human way at least...

Sportacus fears that it is far worse than that.

He fears - and not just because of his own experience he strangely lived through in a dream again just a few minutes ago - that the radiating fever is caused by colliding energy.

He is no doctor.

And he can't be sure whether he's right.

But he knows that elvish magical energy feels hot. He can only assume that it's the same with fairy magic. And since Robbie is a felf and very likely carries a mixture of both magic powers, he might become even hotter than elves or fairies ever would when this energy gathers in one point for some reason.

Is that what his teacher meant?

Is that one of the reasons why so many felves die shortly after birth or even before? Is this combined magic more than a body can cope with?

Does that mean...

No!

He mustn't​ even think about this!

No panic!

He has to cool Robbie's body down so he won't experience a total circulation collapse and his organs won't malfunction even worse!

But...how?...

"Yes, I know!" desperate, Sportacus grabs the waistcoat with his crystal which is still beeping furiously and he glares at it with sudden anger "Instead of just beeping and showing me Robbie who's lying right in front of me, rather show me what I can do to help him! Stupid, useless thing!"

The hero doesn't really notice how easily he suddenly gives in to his rage when he slams the waistcoat against the nearest wall. The sound this causes isn't loud and nothing gets broken. But Sportacus suddenly gets reminded of the first time he got so angry at himself, just about two days ago...and he feels a painful sting in his heart when he remembers how Robbie had calmed him down again. The feeling of the villain's hand on his own...

He calms down a bit at this memory. His anger vanishes and is replaced by fear and sadness instead. And then he realizes that the beeping has stopped. For a split second, hope rushes through him. But then he looks at the felf and finds him in the same state as before. Confused, the elf walks over to pick up his waistcoat, opens the box and looks at the crystal.

No beeping.

No flashing.

In other words: the hero just lost his warning crystal by throwing it against the wall.

It's not broken.

But it doesn't...believe him 'worthy' anymore.

A hero mustn't lose his temper.

Not like this.

Yes, he learned that at school as well.

This elvish crystal...snapped in because he yelled at it, called it stupid and even got violent. And he has absolutely no idea how to correct this again.

Another problem.

But definitely not his main one right now.

With a powerless sigh he secures the stone in its box again and puts the waistcoat into his wardrobe.

It's of no use right now.

Even less like this.

He can only hope that the kids and the other people in LazyTown will be all right and stay out of trouble for some more time... He doubts that he'd be a good 'hero' at the moment, anyway. His thoughts would be with Robbie the whole time, anyway...

"...What can I do to cool you down?..." he's standing next to the bed again and gently brushes his fingers over the felf's cheek, resisting the reflex to pull back at the hot sensation "...There must be something I can do! ...Anything..."

The elf furrows his brows when an idea hits him.

"...If...you released at least some of this energy...your fever should cease a bit. I'm sure... But how shall you do this? You're not even conscious..." Sportacus swallows hard and feels more tears coming up "...And though I'm talking to you..."

Once more he very gently unfolds the with pain quivering body and carefully slips his hand under the shirt to rest it on the hot belly. He bites his lower lip to suppress a whimper. This almost feels as if he put his hand on a hotplate... If he needed any more evidence that Robbie isn't having a normal fever, then that's it. On one hand this is a slightly calming thought, because otherwise, with a fever this high the villain would be dead within hours. On the other hand, even if the felvish body is able to cope with this extreme stress longer than a human...or even elvish or fairy body would, he can't tell for how much longer exactly, and, even worse, he doesn't know what to do against this. Releasing this energy appears to be the only possible way, but for this...

"...You have to wake up, Robbie! Please! I... I can't do this alone this time... I need your help..." with tears in his eyes he slowly starts to caress the hot, hardened stomach of the felf, searching his gaze. Robbie groans lowly. His head turns from side to side. The damp, meanwhile hot cloth drops down from his forehead and with a painful whimper he tries to turn back on his side and to pull his knees up to his chest again. But with careful force, the hero hinders him.

"No... I'm sorry, Robbie, but it's better if you stay this way..." Sportacus knows it's foolish, but each time Robbie whimpers his heart breaks and he feels as if he's hurting him even worse with his actions...

"...It...hurts..."

"Robbie!" the elf nearly jumps when he hears this low whisper, but he forces himself not to move a single muscle. Instead, he cups the felf's cheek with his free hand, his own voice trembling and breaking "Oh, Robbie... Finally! I-I...already thought you...wouldn't wake up again..."

"...H... Hurts..." Robbie swallows hard and his next inhale appears to cause him immense pain, but his eyes slowly move around unfocused for a moment, until they lock with the hero's "...Sporta...cus... Make...it...s-stop... P... Please..."

"...I... I-I...don't know...how..." a cold sweat starts to spread on the elf's body. He has never felt this desperate before and his head never this empty...

He's panicking.

"Robbie, I..."

"Please!" with a cry and a surprising strong jerk, the other sits up and doubles over, his own arms pressing Sportacus' hand which is still resting on his stomach further down, his eyes squeezed shut and his breathing is nothing more than a faint gasping, barely enough to take in the urgently needed oxygen "...I... I can't take this...any longer... Please! D-Do...anything!" he turns his head and pleadingly looks into the hero's eyes, his voice barely above a whisper now "...Please...help me..."