Oooooh boy, am I in deep doody. I forgot how I left you all hanging! I'm soooo sorry! If I'd realized, I'd totally have updated this sooner
Uh, well, another chappie for all my lovelies. Hope I haven't gotte rusty ^^;
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WHAM!
Tony heard a dull crack as his head hit the wooden wall, his ears rang with the force of the blow.
WHAM!
A wave of nausea went through him and he felt a slight trickle of wetness seep through his hair.
WHAM!
His head snapped to the side and he happened to catch a glimpse of his mirror. His jaw dropped. He knew.
WHAM!
Again he saw the emerald halls reflected in the mirror. Again he saw the trollish dead-him watching with flashing blue eyes.
THUD!
The blow seemed muffled, somehow, but not much less painful. Hex’s face blurred and ran, and he felt as if he were about to throw up.
THUD!
His eyes slid closed.
Tony cracked his heavy eyelids open, wincing against the pounding headache that engulfed the back of his skull. He took in the scene above him, the muffled voices, wearily. Then he shot upright, heedless of the scream of pain it shot through his head, his eyes searching the room. He found the mirror - it reflected the worried faces of his friends.
He wasn’t quite sure
what was wrong, he was only certain that something was dreadfully out of place. Someone pressed down on his shoulders gently, forcing him to lie back down. His eyes snapped around to see who it was - Charby. Words were murmured, but he ignored them. At least until something gloriously familiar broke through his haze.
“Is he going to be all right? Hex, let go of me! I don’t care how bad it is, let me see him!” Tony felt his heart lurch into his throat and he turned towards the voice, his eyes wide.
“Mye? Youse... youse alives! Oh thank heavens!” His face split into a giddy grin and tears sprang to his eyes. She was in front of him now, laying a cool hand on his forehead, making small shushing noises. The tears quickly broke down into great, ugly sobs that he had no control over. “Alives. I can’ts believes it...”
“Chee,” Menu muttered in amazement. “Is he crazy or what?”
“He’s
delirious, food for brains!” Hex snapped. He stepped aside and began herding the others back through the door. “Out, out! We don’t need the whole Cabin catching this... thing. Someone see if they can get the nurse out here, and quickly.”
“Nurse?” Tony rasped, his hand clasping Mye’s tightly. “I’s… Hex, what’s going ons?” To his surprise, Tony felt himself shaking, sweat trailing down his forehead.
“Hey, just stay calm.” Hex sat on the end of the bed and smiled in a way that was supposed to be reassuring. It wasn’t. “You just have a fever.”
“You’re sick, sweety,” Mye murmured, brushing hair out of his face. “And you’ve been having nightmares.”
“Nightmares? Nein, nein, that wasn’t…” Tony shook his head, feeling disoriented and strange. “How bads is it?”
“Well, if you ask our thermometer, you’re legally dead,” Hexavier said teasingly. “Don’t worry, we’ll pick up a new one. Damn thing’s obviously broken. The nurse will be here soon, though, so sit tight.” He patted Tony’s knee awkwardly.
It was painful. Worse than the headache, or the shivers that went through him. It was the… pity. The
cluelessness in their eyes, and their words. Granted, he couldn’t quite say
what was clueless about them… but just the way Hexavier… “Heh. Legally dead.” Tony leaned back weakly, staring at the ceiling.
Hex exchanged a look with his sister, patted Tony’s knee again, then stood and slipped out of the room. Mye studied Tony’s drawn face for a long moment. “Tony, baby, is there anything I can get you?”
“Uuuh?” Tony jerked a little – he’d almost drifted off again – “Yeah... yeah, Myes. Mine book? Mine dreams journal?” He watched her as she smiled at him (it didn’t reach her eyes). She said something that he presumed was soothing, stood, and left his field of vision.
For a while – it seemed like hours, but he was sure it was only minutes – he drifted on the edge of consciousness, the nightmares flickering just out of reach, threatening to drag him down.
“Here you go, Tony,” Mye said in a soft voice, and he opened his eyes to find the book in his hands. He glanced over at her, smiling wanely, then popped the pen open and flipped to the first page.
The list of words he proceeded to write didn’t make sense. Pieces from his dreams and from reality meshed feverishly onto the paper in one long jumble of ideas:
Nocturnal Meat Hook Vampires, Gummy Bears and Wands in the Fog, Emerald Halls where I have a Hat and am a Moth. The Rat. Mye, Mye, my Mye. Iron burns and no body temperature… The pen tumbled from his numbed fingers because he simply couldn’t write anymore. His mind overflowed with fog, and the skin around his wrists throbbed in a distracting manner. It almost felt… sticky. And too hot.
“…ony? Tony?” Mye’s voice eventually filtered into his ears, and he turned slowly to look at her. But he hadn’t quite focused when she lunged forward, grasping his wrists tightly. He made a frightened, pained sound and jerked back, his eyes growing wide as visions from his most recent dream surged into his mind, colored in red. She shushed him, rolling his sleeve up past his wrist. “What – Tony, did you do this?”
He stared down at his wrist. Strange, it hadn’t hurt until she’d pointed it out. Wrapping his wrist was an angry welt, and his skin rose and blistered, framed by swollen veins that were turning poisonous. The whole strip shone like a burn, and Tony imagined that there was the vague smell of charred flesh lingering around it. He raised his eyes and met Mye’s worried gaze.
“Did you hurt yourself? Tony?” Her eyes shone. Was she crying? Tony winced as her fingers tightened around the burns and clear liquid oozed from his cracked skin.
“Mye, I’s… I jes’ don’t knows anymores, Mye.”
