the tears dry without you, life goes on but i'm gone, cause i die without you Who: Cian & Ash What: Cian is dying. Fuck that. Where: Cian's place When: Late afternoon, early evening Rating: PG-13 Status: Complete!
She’d dropped everything the minute she’d gotten Hier’s message, rushing out of Ruby and heading towards the nearest crystal. She’d explain to Mama Jewel later; for now, she needed to get to the Tenements. More importantly, she needed to get to Cian.
A terse message was sent back to Hier as she reached the crystal, with another one as soon as she arrived in the Tenements. A quick message was shot off to Cian before she pocketed the device; everything else could wait until she saw him. She had no clue what the fuck was going on; Cian hadn’t mentioned that he was sick and he sure as hell hadn’t mentioned shit about being so fucking bad that he was on his Faram-damned deathbed. She tried desperately to keep the panic from overwhelming her, but it was too damned hard; the last time she’d gotten a message like this, her father had been cold by the time she reached him.
There was no way she’d be able to survive this if Cian died. She’d barely pulled through Tynan’s death, and that had been by holding on to all of her anger and letting it fuel her for the following year. Who would she have to be angry at this time?
She shoved open the door, trusting that Cian had done as he was told. Nothing came flying at her, so she ascended the stairs, taking each flight quickly and casting only a cursory glance at each floor. The last door was thrown open and she stalked in, grasping tightly to her anger and barely keeping the worry at bay. Until she saw him, and suddenly she was at the side of his bed, on her knees and reaching for his hand.
“What the fuck, Ci?” she asked, voice trembling.
It was a good thing Nate had made that master disarm for him; he had managed to get home by some miracle (and because he could fly half conscious) but had he been forced to walk down the multiple sets of stairs to undo the traps, well. Ash would probably be stunned or poisoned on the floor somewhere. He just didn’t have the damn energy.
And looking at her shocked face as she flew into his apartment and made a beeline to his bed, he had to wonder if he might not have been better off letting her get trapped. This was going to take more energy than the stairs, fuck it all.
“Hello to you too.” Because really, what else was there to say. “Did Hier call the whole fucking org, or did you just get lucky?”
“Don’t know,” she replied. “Pretty sure he got me since no one else will fucking shove potions down your Faram-damned throat. Why the fuck didn’t you say something?” How did you let it get to this point? She had a firm grip on his hand now; his skin was clammy. Not good. Not good at all.
She glanced at the table nearest his bed to see if she could spot any of the potions she knew Hier had sent off with Cian but didn’t see them. “For fuck’s sake,” she muttered, returning her attention back to her…. whatever the fuck he was. Boss. Sure, she thought, let’s go with that. “Where’s the meds Hier gave you?” She didn’t really relish playing nursemaid - especially not the actual kind - but she would be damned if she was going to let him die. “And don’t try playing stupid. No way he was letting you out of there against his recommendation without sending you out with something.”
Hier had told her to make sure he took the meds, which meant that Cian had them. She just had to find them, and that would be way easier if he would just tell her where he put the damn things. She’d never actually been to his apartment; it would take too damn long to hunt them down herself.
“Say what, oh hey, I’ve got the fucking flu?” he gave her an annoyed look. “Yeah, I’m all about bitching about a runny fucking nose, why the hell didn’t I think of that? Don’t be an idiot, princess.” His glare was probably missing something, considering his vision wasn’t focusing right again.
Two Aisling Wildes. Just what he fucking needed. He closed his eyes.
“I took the last dose an hour ago, what am I, stupid?” He didn’t mention that he’d tossed one of the bottles to shatter against the wall in a temper. Whatever, he’d taken the other one after, hadn’t he? This was the shittiest luck of his life so far, but he didn’t actually want to hurry death along.
“Doesn’t answer my question, Ci,” she pointed out. At least her voice was even now. She stood up, squeezing Cian’s hand before releasing it and taking a better look around the apartment. Fairly empty with dark colored furniture scattered around. The couch looked comfortable enough, but there was no way she was sleeping on it; she’d have to message Neil to bring a chair or something. She had one that was comfortable enough to sleep in in her office. It would do.
“Where’s your bathroom?” She didn’t see any cloth around, but there were some random strips of garishly printed linen hanging from her costume. She could rip a piece off and use it to wipe down Cian’s forehead. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about the meds.”
“I took the fucking meds. Not that it matters if I do or don’t, apparently.” The words came out on a snarl. He turned his head away. Of all people, he didn’t want her seeing him like this. “Door on your left,” he said, voice vacant, devoid of emotion. Better that than his fury. “Towels on the rack. Use whatever you need and go away.”
The emptiness in his voice cut deeper than she wanted to admit. She left the room without saying a word and came back with a damp cloth. Stubbornly, she perched on the side of his bed and gently began dabbing at his forehead.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said quietly but firmly. “I’m staying right here.” With you.
“Your loss, princess,” he said. The anger didn’t last; exhaustion won out. “I’m not going to entertain you.” The cool cloth felt good on his forehead, he had to admit, but he didn’t want her here. “I was just lying down for a minute. I’ve got shit to do.” The statement was empty; he had no idea if he was getting his ass out of bed literally ever again, but there was shit to do.
At least, like any sane person in his line of work, he had an up-to-date will. And wasn’t that a cheery fucking thought?
“Never asked you to entertain me,” she said, removing the cloth for a minute to turn it around. She laid it on Cian’s forehead and sat back, eyeing him critically. He looked like shit, which wasn’t surprising, but that didn’t make it any harder to take in.
“You’re going to lay here and do what Hier told you to do. Everything else can wait un-” her voice cracked “-til you’re better.”
He chuckled. It was not an amused chuckle. “Princess, you missed part of the point, apparently. This is as good as it gets. I’ll have plenty of fucking time to rest in a mausoleum. Lay the fuck off, will you?” Pride won over exhaustion just as exhaustion had defeated anger; he muscled himself into a sitting position and glared at her. “I’m not just going to lie down and die, all right? You’ve got bigger shit to worry about than me right now.”
“You’re not going to die, Cian.” She hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt. Hier was an asshole, but he was a doctor; she wasn’t. But pure stubbornness and disbelief refused to allow her to do more than shut down any what if thoughts. “The biggest thing I’ve got to worry about is you.”
To her, there wasn’t anything bigger or more important. And she could lie to herself about the org needing him, but really, it was more selfish than that. She needed him. She’d always needed him, even when she hated him.
“You’re a doctor now, I see,” he said. “Good to know. I don’t need worrying about. I’m fine for now. Just tired.” And feverish, and nauseous, and sore, and apparently dying, but who was focusing on details?
He took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. He needed her the fuck out of here. “Listen, you really want to be helpful?” he asked. “There’s a huge fucking stack of papers in my office. Back of the apartment. You could deal with those.” And maybe by the time she was done massaging those numbers, he’d figure out how to get her to leave without picking her up and hauling her out, which currently seemed beyond his physical capability.
Unfortunately.
She hesitated a second before nodding. Paperwork wasn’t anything new, and while it would take her a little longer than it would Cian to get the accounting shit sorted, it still wasn’t a horribly long process. “Got it,” she said. She turned around, paused, turned back. “If you need anything, call me, okay?”
The insane urge to kiss his brow came over her and she decided to say fuck it. Quickly, she crossed the short distance between them, leaned over and gently placed her lips to his skin before backing away just as quickly.
“No kissing the invalid,” he grumbled. “What, you want to get sick too? For fuck’s sake, princess, have some sense. I don’t need anything. I’ve already got more than I bargained for.” And wasn’t that the truth.
“If I catch it, it’s my problem. Try to get some rest,” she advised, turning around. “I’ll check on you in a little while.” And she would. Probably every half hour or so. She’d never seen Cian like this, and that made her worry even more. The fact that she was practically beside herself only made it worse; she could focus on her self-loathing later.
Right now, there was paperwork to get done and an invalid to keep alive.