ArchivedLogs:Night Fever

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Night Fever
Dramatis Personae

Desi, Matt


"{You're not hurting me in any way that I cannot bear.}"


<NYC> Tessier Residence - Upstairs - Greenwich Village

The upper floor of this apartment holds the bedrooms; one master bedroom and three smaller ones. One has been converted to a lounge, couches and /more/ books and a large desk by its window. The other two smaller bedrooms upstairs, in strange departure from the rest of the house's style, seem decorated more with younger occupants in mind. One of them, styled largely in purples and blues, has a pair of twin beds with matching butterfly-patterned bedspreads and a similar fabric for the window curtains; a wealth of stuffed toys is neatly arranged on both. The other is very green, its bedspread green-and-black striped; the walls are covered with a host of movie posters. Between the two bedrooms stands a bathroom, cheerfully decorated with colourful mosaic fish in its tiles.

The master bedroom, in contrast to the paler, earthy scheme outside, is warm and rich, decorated in deep reds. The exquisitely crafted furniture is dark, with reddish undertones to the mahogany wood. The king-sized bed is stocked with an overabundance of pillows, and more cushions rest in the windowseat. One wall holds a spacious walk-in closet. A table, low to the ground, sits on a thick rug between the bed and the entrance, the right height for kneeling rather than chairs; the checked pattern carved into its surface marks it as a chessboard, though the pieces are not in evidence. The master bathroom adjoins the bedroom; it is large, done in black marble, with an overly spacious glass-walled shower and a similarly large jacuzzi bathtub.

It's late on a warm summer night, and the house is quiet for the most part. The door to the master bedroom is closed but not locked; the bed is deserted, the covers twisted and kicked aside. A paperback copy of /Neverwhere/ lies on the nightstand beside a barely touched bottle of ginger ale long since gone warm. The shower has just started running, and Matt sits in the stall still clad in a sleeveless undershirt and boxers, covered in cold water. His eyelids are closed, his skin oddly flushed, his powers fluctuating subtly but sensibly to anyone who comes near enough and who is subject to their pull.

Desi pads down the hallway in a soft white camisole and light blue knit skirt, knocking quietly at Matt's door and entering anyway when she hears no response. "Matt?" she calls softly, taking in the bed. Then, frowning, ducks into the bathroom. "Matthieu." There's a faint note of disapproval now. "{You should have called one of us if you wanted to shower. You know that the clothes are meant to come off /before/--}" Her breath catches as she nears him, the range of her telepathy suddenly expanding far enough to encompass /him/, at least, without her usual need for physical contact.

Matt's thoughts are chaotic and disorienting, little snatches of song colliding with flitting images of family, friends, and half-strangers, all overshadowed by an unpleasant sense of rushing movement without form, and beneath it all a deep, gnawing anxiety. He does not respond to the sound of his name, but does stir when Desi's telepathy touches him, however unintentionally. "{Sorry,}" the word comes out a little sluggish, "{I was just so hot. Didn't want to bother you. Too lazy to strip.}" This last he adds a /touch/ sheepishly. "I feel a bit better now." Though, up close, it's quite obvious he is shivering beneath the falling water.

Desi sets her teeth and focuses, blocking out Matt's thoughts as best she can before continuing her approach. "{It's quite alright, but we should get you out of there, get you dry, and check your temperature. We're to take you to the hospital if you have a fever.}" She reaches past her brother and shuts off the water, then kneels down to drape a fluffy, oversized burgundy bath towel around him. "{Come. Can you stand? Or shall I call Gaetan?}"

The flitting phrases of music in Matt's mind slowly resolve into tunes. << {You will protect me, pressed close to your heart; the rain will make the flowers grow.} >> He grumbles softly when the water stops falling on him, and squints his eyes open up at his sister. "{Tyrant.}" But he sits up and helps her wrap the towel around him all the same. "{I've already checked my temperature, and it was normal. But neutropenia can mess with homeostasis, so...}" His shrug is fractional, and probably would be hard to detect were she not touching him.

"{But you will live, my brother,}" Desi sings softly. Then, speaking again, "{You may call me what you like, but let us take it one thing at a time.}" She ducks under Matt's arm and wraps one of hers around his back. "Up." Rising slowly, she braces her free arm against the wall of the shower to steady them. "{You feel quite cool to me, but I suppose that is the water doing its work.}" Her lips press together, her face tight with the effort of supporting her brother's weight, or blocking out his thoughts, or both.

Matt's efforts at holding himself up are met with limited success. Likewise, his attempts at reining his powers back in, which register to Desi as a vague, wordless wrenching in his mind. << {I'm hurting her. Gods, she can hear me. I'm sorry.} >> He clings to his sister, shivering even more violently than when he was in the shower. When they reach his bed, he collapses onto it gratefully, wet clothing and all. "{Thank you. You should go to bed, I'll be fine.}"

"{You're not hurting me in any way that I cannot bear,}" Desi replies evenly as she eases Matt down to the bed. She methodically strips him down, pats him dry gently, and helps him into a clean change of clothing. Ducking into the bathroom, she returns with an oral thermometer which she deposits in his mouth as she sits down beside him, swiping at her phone a few times before setting it down. "{I've apprised Luci of the situation, so he'll come home straightaway when he's done.}"

Matt cooperates as best he can, though he is exceptionally uncoordinated. At the very least, he's more or less able to keep his powers in check now. The thermometer beeps and reads 38 degrees Celsius. He takes it out of his mouth and hand to Desi. "{/One/ degree. That's barely statistically significant--/how/ did you manage to text him that quickly?}"

"{I have pre-written drafts for likely emergencies.}" Desi frowns at the thermometer readout. "{That's enough of a fever to warrant a trip to the urgent care center. You said yourself, your temperature regulation might not be normal to begin with, and we do /not/ want to risk leaving neutropenic sepsis untreated.}" She kisses her brother on the cheek and rises, pulling a backpack from a shelf in his closet, already half-filled, and setting it on the foot of his bed. "Gaetan!" she calls, leaning out into the hallway even as she dials and lifts the phone to her ear, "get dressed. We're taking Matt to the hospital."