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Tweak says, "don't panic"

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Remy LeBeau ([info]ace_of_clubs) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-08-26 10:38:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!dropped, day 20, location: museum, remy lebeau, the doctor (ten)

Who:  The Tenth Doctor & Remy LeBeau
What:  A little bit of panicking on Remy's part.
Where: The Museum
When: Day 20, 2:55pm
Rating: PG-13
Status: Dropped!

Remy LeBeau had experienced a lot today, a lot of new things. New sensations. Like being eaten alive by birds. Twice. That had been fun, and it was completely new! Never before had he had birds trying to rip the flesh from his bones. At least they were crows, or ravens, or something, instead of birds of prey. Having an eagle trying to tear your flesh off would be much worse than crows pecking at you. Plus, eagles were larger. The smaller black birds ramming into windows didn't do too much damage.. at first. But having an eagle, or even a hawk, ramming into a window? Well, it'd be over and done with. of course, the birds of prey couldn't peck out your eyes with their curved beaks, but they could dig them out as if they were using a spoon, which was just as painful. Maybe he should write a little note to the Management and let them know just how silly it had been to use crows. He could think of tons of other birds he'd rather use! What about seagulls? Not only were they about the same size and weight as crows, but they also had that annoying screaming sort of noise, instead of just a soft cawing one. That would have been loads worse. Yes, he'd definitely have to write them a note.

As he came up on the ladder that led up into the museum, out of the tunnel, the Cajun was thinking about Selene and how she'd licked the blood from his body, how she'd taken a little more than perhaps she should have. His hand came to rest on his neck. Maybe the Doctor would think it was just another bird wound? Hopefully. How else would he explain it? He hoped he wouldn't have to. This conversation would be about the Doctor and the management, if he had any luck left in him. So with a shove, he was pushing open the trap door and hauling himself out of the tunnel. He'd brought the vampire down into the tunnels to keep her safe and had told her she could go with him, or pick her own direction. So she'd picked her own direction, though he knew those tunnels were a big maze, a big circle, and she could very well end up anywhere, even right here. That could be awkward.

Still, he was striding across the tile floor, heading for the Doctor's bedroom, only taking a brief glance up at the young boy who was sitting unmoving on the second floor, staring out over the railing at the window. That was a little creepy... but he dismissed it and tugged open the door to the Doctor's temporary room, before stepping in and lifting his eyebrows. "You gonna stick wit' me, an' we gonna stick wit' ot'er people. 'Dese people gunnin' for you, Docteur, 'dey say 'dey gonna take you t'morrow." Yes, he had conversations with the Management. Everyone did. Right? Right.


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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-26 04:21 pm UTC (link)
The Doctor had been very intently working on frequencies on a scrap of paper that was one among many on thetop of his battered desk. There were equations and sketches and meandering strokes of a less than ideal ball point pen. He would have preferred pencil. Or perhaps a quill, something other than this ball point pen that made his fingers cramp and his wrist to feel so very numb.

He heard the door to his study open and close. "Busy, bad time," he squawked, not bothering to look up. He was so very, very close to reaching his goal! He'd have this formula and perhaps even a frequency in the next few hours. He'd even have a preliminary design for the surveyor. Look, Nine he was doing all your work for you.

then he heard what the Cajun said. "Of course they're gunning for me, I'm close." He didn't sound too worried despite knowing quite well what these people appeared to be capabable of. Aside from that, he was feeling like everyone was against him, perhaps even you, Remy. So, he only sighed and kept his attention on his paper.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-26 04:30 pm UTC (link)
"Non, you ain' lis'enin'. 'Dey comin' af'er you. No' jus' everyone here. 'Dey gonna take you tonigh', 'dey say. Say 'dey gonna give you scars ma'ch mine." He wet his lips briefly then came forward, journal still in hand, close enough to press his hips in a languid way against that desk, eyebrows raising. "We gotta stay 'roun' ot'er people, maybe i' gonna make i' uh lil' har'er for 'dem t' ge' t' you." He knew they'd take him whether there were people aruond or not, but perhaps they'd make it harder and they'd leave him alone, decide it wasn't worth it.

"They doin' i' t' piss me off, no' 'cause you close. 'Dey don' give uh damn 'bou' wha' you doin'." Because they didn't think it would work, that was clear enough, or they would have taken those parts away from him, they wouldn't have let him start building in the first place. They weren't worried at all. "You even lis'enin' t' me?"

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-26 04:37 pm UTC (link)
"Of course i'm not listening because I'm not worried," he blurted, setting down the too skinny pen. The look on his face indicated that he didn't think this was funny at all. He just had more important things to think about. "Right, go tell them that the Doctor is in trouble. We're all in trouble. Remy. They're threatening everyone."

He heard that next bit. "Why would they care if we were close, Remy?" These were a cruel sort of people. Not like they were trying to breed their captive subjects. They were here to torture them. Having two people grow close was hardly torture.

"I'm not worried, you shouldn't be, either."

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-26 04:44 pm UTC (link)
Remy tightened his jaw and some shook his head, fingers digging a little into his journal. "You ain' lis'enin' t' me. Look a' me!" That part was demanded a little louder, and once he got the Doctor's attention he set the book on the desk, then flattened his palms against the wood and leaned in some. "'Dey gonna take you an' 'dey gonna hur' y' t' hur' me. 'Das why 'dey care. 'Dey know 'bou' us." Of course they did. And they were using it against them-- well, against Remy, anyway.

"'Dey say 'dey gonna take you an' stake y' han's to 'de groun'." He moved a hand then to lift his book and shook it just a little. "T'ink 'das kin'a impor'an'. Don' y' nee' y' han's t' ge' us 'de fuck outta here?" He was angry that the Doctor wasn't taking this as seriously as he was. It was important!

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-26 04:49 pm UTC (link)
The Doctor set down the pen, he smoothed out his paper, and from his seat at the desk he craned his neck to face the Cajun, to take in that panic. Gingerly, his hand came out to press atop the other one. "I'm fine, Remy. They're just trying to rile you up. They're only saying what they know is going to upset you."

He squinted. "Hands heal, Remy." Eyes traced the other's throat, he saw that there, Remy. What had you been up to? Though, he stayed mute, letting his eyes stray there just long enough to allow the Cajun to see that he'd noticed.

"I'm fine. You're fine. We'll be out of here soon." He pulled his hand away took up the pen again and went back to work.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-26 04:56 pm UTC (link)
"Well i's workin'." He declared sharply, that hand curling into a fist on the desk when the Time Lord's hand came to rest atop it. He couldn't believe the Doctor wasn't taking this seriously! .. Okay, yeah, he could believe that, but still! He had to understand that Remy was worried because it was the Doctor, and the Doctor would be similarly worried if they'd been threatening the Cajun, instead of him. That was how it worked. And it worked so well.

"Han's heal, Docteur, ot'er t'in's don'. Ha' 'dat done nine years 'go, an' I still ain' okay." Nine years. He was twelve or thirteen when it had happened, depending on his age now. Just a kid, Doctor. More so than he was now, at any rate. "'Dey do 'dat t' you an' you ain' gonna 'heal' nei'ter." Take him seriously, Doctor. Please. He had that desperate look in those strange eyes.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-26 05:02 pm UTC (link)
"I've managed through wose than some staked hands," he was brushing it off. He didn't want to talk about it anymore. He wasn't gong to get worried about it. No, wouldn't make any sense getting upset over soemthing he didn't have any control over. The Doctor had lost his train of thought. He couldn't come up with any more bits of his formula. He couldn't think of any more frequencies.

"Alright, now that you have totally stopped me..." he looked sharply at his Cajun, words from earlier ringing in his ears. "I told the other Doctor that I'd handle you. So, what I need you to do right now is calm down. I need you to let this go. I can't have more people panicking, Remy. I can't have more of this place falling apart at the seams. Not right now."

He breathed. "What happened to your throat?"

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-26 05:07 pm UTC (link)
"Ain' jus' stake' han's!" He shouted suddenly, swinging that book up a little higher, then slamming it down into the desk, his hand coming down immediately on top of it to make the loud slapping noise that echoed through the room. "'Dey gonna ge' 'de man wha' di' i' t' me an' 'dey gonna do i' t' you! Why won' you lis'en! Ain' not'in' worse 'den 'dat! 'Specially no' f' you, you who gotta be in contr'l!" Read between the lines, Doctor. Don't make him say it.

But he was leaning back some then, withdrawing his hand from the book, leaving it to sit on the desk as he crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive position. He wasn't going to respond to any of that other mess-- until he asked about his throat and he breathed in deeply and rolled his shoulders back. "Vampire bi' me. Drank m' blood. M' fine." Well then. That was news.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-26 05:14 pm UTC (link)
He breathed in with a hiss and held. He read between the lines. He heard what you were saying. Though, he didn't look away. No, thos edeep brown eyes softened. "Remy," he breathed, pushing up from his chair to stand as the Cajun retreated.

"They're only telling you this because they know it will hurt you. they know..." Really, the Time Lord wasn't quite what more he should say. He knew he wasn't going to take any threat for him seriously. He wasn't going to allow this place to bite at any bit of his brain that allowed him to be frightened. No, he wouldn't be giving in to fear, Remy. He would be giving in to compassion as he saw you there, a wounded boy.

Well, look, Remy was being ridiculous. The Doctor turned his back and walked away. Wounded boy or not, talking about being bitten by a vampire? The Doctor had managed his fill of you, Remy.

"Enough." he sighed. "It's all fine, Gambit. I'll still be here tomorrow. I'll still be here and I'll be getting us out of here." Confident Time Lord.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-26 05:22 pm UTC (link)
When the Doctor gave him that look, Gambit narrowed his eyes down some in an aggressive manner. Don't look at him like that, Doctor. That little bit of news should have no bearing on what you thought of the young man standing before you.. though it might have explained why the three times you'd been together, it had always been the same way. "'Dey righ', i's hur'in' me. An' 'dere uh chance' 'de gonna do i' t' you, I gotta take 'dat serious." Because you wouldn't, Doctor.

But when he turned his back on the Cajun, those eyebrows shot up. "Wha? She di'! An' you don' know 'dat. You t'ough' I'd be here, an' 'dey took me. 'Den wha'? How 'dat make you feel? You wan' me t' feel like 'dat?"

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-26 05:26 pm UTC (link)
He saw that look. He saw the way the Cajun didn't appreciate that bit of compassion. It wasn't pity, Remy. It was care, it was hurt on your behalf. It was an understanding; not pity.

Though now, his back was to you and his eyes rolled as you acted like a child again. "They took you Remy, showed some terrible things and returned you perfectly fine. that's what they'll do to me. They'll hole me up in some apartment and return me afterward. That's what they do. So, don't you dare feel terrible. Don't you dare feel loss. That's if they even take me, Remy! For all you know tomorrow I'll wake up again in the bumper cars."

He still hadn't turned around. He'd dismissed your speech about a vampire and ignored it completely.

"It will be fine, Gambit. Fine."

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-26 10:32 pm UTC (link)
When the Doctor turned his back, Remy finally lowered his eyes to stare at the journal there on that desk, eyes fixated on it as the other man spoke to him in that tone. Like he was a child. Like he had no idea what he was talking about. Like he didn't know anything, because of his age, his intelligence level, his education-- lord knew what reason it was. It didn't really matter, because the tone said it all, and the Cajun was reaching out to collect his journal off of the desk, and he brought it near to his chest before letting it fall with his arm, so it hung at his side in his tight grip.

"I ain' never hate' someone 'dat I love' so much. You really don' t'ink anyt'in' of me, do y' Docteur? Maybe 'f I was uh blon'e, non?" That said, he was stepping away from the desk and lowering his head some, eyes locking onto the book hanging at his side. "You ain' gonna lis'en, gonna fin' someone who will." He'd go find Jack Harkness.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 12:06 am UTC (link)
He was trying to stop you from falling off the edge, Cajun. He was trying to keep you safe. Yet every move you made seemed to try and pry him closer to the edge of fear and doubt and discomfort. Every single step.

Those words right there? They made his breath hitch in his throat. Not the taunt. No, the taunt and it's spite were ignored. It was that first bit. "Don't say that, Gambit." He swallowed hard. You thought you'd seen him run away before? You haven't seen anything in comparison to the way he wanted to run from you now. The way he wanted to bolt down that hallway. He'd save you from him, somehow he'd manage it.

He dared to peek over his shoulder, eyes forced cold. He thought everything of you, Remy LeBeau. When everyone else insisted he not trust you, he did. When they questioned him he kept your secrets. When you teetered too close to that edge he pushed you back. He protected you, Cajun. And you'd never see it, at least not for what it was.

He wouldn't say anything to what you just said, Remy, nothing more. He'd just shake his head and cross his arms. He'd make you feel like a petulant child - because you needed to feel stupid for having even let that word 'love' into your vocabulary when it came to this Time Lord. Nine was right, he was worse than him.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 12:18 am UTC (link)
"Why no'? True, ain' i'? Sometime I jus' wanna grab y' an' thrash ya 'til you stop bein' such uh ass t' me. Jesus, Docteur. You my frien', an' I care 'bou' ya. Love ya, wan' ya t' be safe. An' don' you ge' all uppity 'cause I sai' 'de wor' 'Love', nei'ter. You ain' so grea' an' perfec' 'dat you incapable of love. I know you love. Know you feel 'dat way. Don' mean you gotta wanna.. be wit' someone forever, don' mean you gotta be in love wit' someone, jus' love 'dem. Like y' love y' frien's. Ain' you never fel' 'dat 'fore? You love me, Docteur, I know 'dat, an' you can' deny i'. You love me, ain' somet'in' you can hide. Don' mean you in love wit' me. Don' mean we gonna.. star' pickin' out wall paper an' dishes an'.." He let out a short breath and lifted one hand to touch the puncture wounds in his neck. He could still feel Selene's teeth sliding in there.

But then his hand dropped and red eyes lifted again. "You t'ink you savin' me by pushin' me 'way? T'ink you savin' 'de people here? T'ink you savin' yourself? I ain' goin' no where an' not'in' you do gonna chase me off. So now you jus' bein' sadistic. Jus' hur'in' me 'cause you t'ink i's fun, no' 'cause you helpin', 'cause I ain' goin' no where. An' me bein' wit' you ain' gonna make you finish 'dat t'in' any slower." He vaguely indicated the papers the Doctor was working on. "An' me bein' wit' you ain' gonna do not'in' to you 'cep make you happy. Why you tryin' so har' t' be miserable? You t'ink you 'serve t' be unhappy y' whole life? Well I don'. I 'serve t' be happy an' I need you t' be 'dat way. So you jus' gonna have t' stop bein' selfish f' uh God Damn minu'e, an' suffer t'rough bein' happy, 'cause you gonna make me happy. An' ain' 'dat wha' you wan'? Wan' me not t' be hur'?"

He let out a slow breath after that little speech. Sorry, Doctor, he hadn't meant to ramble like that. "We figh' like 'dis uh lo'. An' you stab 'dat knife int' me, an' you twis'. An' I always come back. An' I'm always gonna. 'Cause I'd rat'er y' stab 'dat knife in me 'den y'self."

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 12:28 am UTC (link)
He got all uppity about it because it wasn't just platonic between them. Hadn't been platonic for days. Maybe it'd never be platonic again. Maybe that friendship had been lost for something else - something that this Doctor denied and railed against. He watched as that hand slipped up to mutant's throat and the almost longing look that flitted over handsome features. He hadn't been kidding. Filed away for later. It wasn't important.

"I think whomever did that to you made you awfully happy. I think L'Inite made you happy, too. I'd wager just about anybody here could make you happy, Gambit." He turned back around. His hands were at his sides as he eyed the Cajun. He'd called you the loyalist creature he'd ever known today. He saw you for what you were and still he kicked. Hard.

"You don't know the first thing about me. Nothing," he said quietly, picking up his own journal and pushing it into his impossible pockets. He was moving toward that door. Next stop would be the tunnels. You wouldn't be able to find him at all, Cajun. He'd disappear, just you wait and see.

"Go find L'Inite. Go find whoever bit you. Go love them in that friendly way you speak of. I've work to do." He tugged the door open, not looking back.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 12:35 am UTC (link)
Oh, Doctor, you weren't getting away. A hand jerked out and he took two quick steps so he could grasp onto that wrist and haul the Doctor back away from the door, but when the Time Lord turned to face him, he stepped forward again, forcing him back a few steps so his back would hit the door and close it behind him. Then he had a hundred and seventy-five pounds of lean muscle pressed against him, that French-kissed mouth oh-so-near to his own.

"Whoever di' 'dis t' me made me awful horny. An' Jenny make me curious, no' happy-- an' she dea'." That part was said more quietly, red eyes dropping just a second before they lifted again, locking onto brown. "No one here gonna make me happy. An' damn you for implyin' 'dat I'm easy t' please. Ain' no one ever make me happy 'de way you do. Ain' never been so happy in m' life. I tol' you 'fore, you make me wanna be uh better man. You make me wanna make my life better, make me int' somet'in' more 'den I am." He hands lifted, curling around the Doctor's lapels and getting just a little blood on the brown fabric.

"Know you uh alien. Know you los' someone you care 'bou'. Know y' hate y'self much as I hate m'self. Know you go' people who love you, bu' you can' ge' over how much y'hate y'self, t' be able t' accep' 'dem. Know 'bou' your TARDIS, know you change y'body an' y' face. Know 'de face you make when you comin'." That last part was said closer to his mouth. "Name me one person know all 'dat. Jus' one."

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 12:47 am UTC (link)
He turned his face away. He looked at the wall with a face that was so close to looking like he might actually vomit. He knew better than to press back, to struggle, that was what the Cajun wanted. He wanted that physical fight so he could bend it and turn it into something else entirely.

Every word the Cajun said was vulgar. Every last bit of it.

"She's dead and I killed her." His face turned slowly eyes locking in on the Cajuns. He wasn't talking about Rose here, Cajun. He wasn't talking about anyone you even knew existed.

He shoved there, hard trying to break those hands from his lapel and to get that clinging body off of his own. "My happiness is outside of this place. It's being out traveling in my big blue box. It's not being chained here to you." He grabbed that tattered shirt and shook.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 12:54 am UTC (link)
"Yeah, bu' you stuck here." He replied more firmly, even as the Time Lord grabbed hold and shook. He shifted a foot out and pressed in more closely to still those hands. "You ain' go' y' big blue box. You ain' go' none 'dat here." Sorry, Doctor. Remy was leaning his head forward, tilting it to bring his mouth in against the skin of your neck. "Why can' you jus' be wit' me here? Now. An' when 'dis all over, y' g'wan t' your big blue box, an' fly off. Y' won' be chaine' t' me no more. An' you won' never have t' t'ink o' me 'gain."

Even though you would, and he knew you would. "She woul'n' wan' y' to be miserable, woul' she? Woul'n' wan' ya pushin' 'way uh good thin'. She'd wan' y' to be happy, oui?"

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 01:17 am UTC (link)
"You know," he said flatly, they always knew. And that little thing you were supposed to know, Cajun? That was why he couldn't let this keep on going because he'd grow to like those chains. He'd grow to need those chains.

He ignored Remy's questions about his wife. About the mother of his children. About the woman he'd incinerated with two species. He deserved that bit of misery. He deserved that lingering pain. You didn't know what he'd done, Cajun. You didn't know what made Nine so hard. You didn't know that it was Rose that softened him back up again. How could you?

"I hate you."

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 01:23 am UTC (link)
But he didn't know. Not yet. He just remained still as the Doctor announced that he knew, and as he stayed so silent and still, pressed back against the door. Gambit mimicked him for all of thirty seconds before the Time Lord spoke up again.

'I hate you', he'd said. And the words rung in the Cajun's ears, but not the way the Doctor would have hoped. He'd be able to feel the younger man smile against the skin of his neck and he nodded, just some. "Ha'e you too, Docteur." Well, he'd turned that right around on you, hadn't he? He knew you didn't hate him.. and even if you did, he knew you cared about him, too. More than you hated him.

You might as well have told him you wanted to get married and make little Mutant Time Lord babies, Doctor. Only Remy's twisted mind followed those lines.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 01:31 am UTC (link)
His forehead pressed to the Cajun's shoulder as he deflated. The Doctor was right, he knew. That mutant had smiled. Time Lord felt the shift in that mouth as it lingered along his throat, his jaw, his Adam's Apple. And when that sentiment of hatred was returned this Time Lord only sighed.

He could smell the blood all over the Cajun and taste the perspiration that rolled off the Cajun's heated body. He was feverish, the Doctor could feel it. "You need to rest, Remy. You need to get out of here and you need to get rest or you're only going to get more sick." His head pulled away from that shoulder, hand coming up to right that face that was so close to his own. His thumb ran over the Cajun's jawline, tracing it as he looked back and forth between those oddly colored irises opposite his own.

"Go on," he nearly whispered.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 01:41 am UTC (link)
When that hand came up to straighten his head, he looked tiredly across at him, all the adrenaline having found its way out of his system as he'd finally be able to relax forward in against the Doctor. He was feverish and he was sweating a little, his eyes dimmer than usual, but that smile was pleased as pie and remained firmly on his lips. He'd been sick before, a slight temperature and a cough, a few sneezes here or there. But Selene had taken quite a decent share of his blood about six hours ago and his immune system was having a Hell of a time trying to catch up. His body was failing and he was tired, but had enough left in him to keep himself going.

And when the Doctor whispered for him to go, he smirked some and backed a step away, pulling his over-heated body away and pushing a hand back through slightly damp hair. Lord, look at those marks on his neck. They really were puncture wounds. You were right, Time Lord, he hadn't been kidding, a vampire had taken some of his blood.. only question now, was it by force, or had he let that happen? Who in their right mind would let that happen? "Where'm I gonna go? Bir's gonna ge' t'rough 'de barn, woo' ain' stron' 'nuff. All 'de rooms here taken," The Doctor had claimed the last one. This one. "Ain' really go' 'nuff energy t' be ligh'in' my way 'roun' 'de tunn'ls anyway. An'.." But instead of finishing he paused.. then shook his head. Never mind that.

"Oui, gonna go fin' somewhere t' sleep i' off." But where, he had no idea. It didn't really matter, though, the Doctor just wanted him to go away and he recognized it for what it was. He wasn't saying it because he was actually concerned, he just wanted to be left alone. He didn't care of Remy had no where to go or not. So why bother blabbering on? "Gonna be jus' ou'si'e."

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 01:52 am UTC (link)
Like honey to the fly. Like the most impossible trap imaginable. When the Cajun pulled away and acted like he might actually slink off, it was when the Doctor tugged him back again.

It was the sickly way his skin looked. It was the lack of fire in those eyes. It was the way his voice seemed diminished. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact he hated the mutant.

"You're going to be right here," he whispered into the Cajun's ear. "You're going to sleep in that bed until you're able to get up and about again. You're not going to the barn. You're not going back outside. You're not going to lie in the foyer on the floor. You're not going anywhere." He pressed his cheek to that sweaty one, guessing at the temperature.

He tip toed around and away from the Cajun, leaning over to shift and rearrange the gym mats he'd turned into his bed. They were layered with clothes from the thrift shop and he'd even fashioned a pillow once upon a time from a variety of t-shirts. Satisfied he looked from the bed to the sick man before closing the gap.

"Stay."

Time Lord kicked himself, the mutant deserved better. He'd told Nine that and it was true. He did deserve better.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 02:04 am UTC (link)
No. He deserved exactly what the Doctor was giving him. The good things as well as the bad. He wasn't exactly a Saint, but he wasn't evil, either. You were perfect for him, Time Lord. Just perfect. At least, that was what the mutant thought. And he watched with a smile as the other man declared he would be sleeping right here. He was pleased for that, but at the same time, a little disappointed. He'd actually been thinking about laying on those cold tiles and had been getting goosebumps in anticipation. And now? Just a warm, comfortable looking bed made out of floor mats and clothing. "Merci beaucoup, Docteur. You so sweet." He laughed some and rocked up onto his toes. He energy really seemed boundless at times like this. He was sick, clearly, he had lost a decent amount of blood, he was wounded, he was emotionally exhausted, and there he was, bouncing on his toes.

And that temperature, Doctor? Best guess? One-oh-two. Maybe One-oh-three. But he was still up and around. For now. "Y' ain' gonna leave if I fall 'sleep, are ya?" If he fell asleep, because he wasn't quite sure he wanted to. He really shouldn't be resting in here at all, he should have been going to the gym to see if they had anything to calm his climbing body temperature. But really, he wasn't concerned about it. He'd had worse things than a cold before.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 02:12 am UTC (link)
He watched as he rocked up on those toes.

"You. Bed. Now." If Jack had heard that he'd be wondering just what was going on in the Time Lord's room.

He'd guessed at the temperature and he didn't like it one bit. He felt the sweat rolling off the Cajun's flesh and the heat and smelled the fever like it was biting. He didn't need to respond to that question because he was too busy maneuvering the Cajun onto that low bed, under that not so heavy blanket and making him stay.

Reaching under the desk he nabbed the bottle of water, half emptied, that he'd set there so he didn't risk spilling it on his paper, sloshing it at the Cajun he spoke flatly. "You're going to drink this so you don't get dehydrated. You're going to stay there and rest. And you're not going to be arguing with me."

He was sitting on the floor there, pulling an ankle up under his knee as he propped himself up on his elbow beside that makeshift bed as if guarding the mutant.

Go ahead, Cajun, try and argue.

As if.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 02:20 am UTC (link)
He allowed himself to be maneuvered around, laughing a little as if this were a game, but soon he was sitting on that bed, then laying down on his back and letting the Time Lord cover him up as if he were a child. "Jus' uh col'. Y' tol' me so, non?" The Doctor had told him that he'd catch a cold if he didn't change his clothing. And here he was. Doctor knows best, Remy, you should have listened. Really, he would have been just fine if he hadn't had encountered Selene. That had been it for him. He'd lost all chances of getting out of his little sickness with just the sniffles when that had happened.

"You was jus' t'rowin' me ou' a minu'e 'go, Docteur." Reminded with a cheeky little smile as he carefully took that water bottle in a gloved hand. But it was already getting quite warm under the blankets, with all of his clothes on, and he wanted to kick them off but wasn't sure how well that'd go over.

He left them, for now. "Merci." For the water, which he was craving. He only had a few sips though before passing it back over. He'd save it for later, the Doctor might want some, and after a second that thought dawned on him. "Can you ge' sick from me?" He wasn't human, so the Cajun wasn't sure.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 02:27 am UTC (link)
"It's not just a cold. It's a fever." He corrected.

"I thought better of it. Didn't want you infecting everyone else." He watched as he took the water bottle and managed only a few sips. There was a disapproving look as he set the bottle back down within easy reach of the sick man.

"No, natural immunity to your version of the cold and flu," he replied, shifting to lean his back against the wall at the head of that bed. The room was cramped, wasn't like he'd really be able to get too far away anyway.

"You should sleep, Gambit." His hand pressed the other man's cheeks and then his forehead, feeling the sweat there. Slowly those fingertips started stroking the Cajun's brow, absent minded strokes, it seemed. Though, deep down the purpose was to lull the mutant off to sleep. Sooner or later he'd succeed.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 02:34 am UTC (link)
"Y' t'ink I'm con'agious, Docteur?" It was almost a tease, a play on his name, and he laughed a little again as the Time Lord explained that he had a natural immunity. Remy just nodded some, a bit of hair sticking to his forehead. However, that hair was being brushed away shortly after and he let out a slow breath, red eyes sliding closed under the attention. Stupid Doctor and his attempt to soothe, it was working so well.

"You gonna wake me up 'f 'dere's any exci'men', oui? Don' wanna be sleepin' t'rough anyt'in' cool." Like killer birds. He'd been there and done that and wasn't pleased. His coat was ruined, but he hadn't taken it off yet. Gloved fingers flexed a little before they relaxed once more, settling one over his abdomen and leaving the other to rest nearer to his chest. You were putting him to sleep rather quickly with all that touching. But don't think he'd stay that way for long. The fever would eventually wake him again and you might find yourself looking to see if a doctor had been stranded in the museum. Or, you could always go fetch one using those dark tunnels, Time Lord.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 02:41 am UTC (link)
No, he thought you were foolish for running around in the rain all day without drying off or taking proper care of yourself. He thought you were either unlucky or very stupid for then playing blood donor. Time Lord also didn't think your gallivanting did much for your illness, either. Though, he didn't say anything, and didn't do anything except gently press back ginger hair and watch as impossible eyes slipped shut.

"Things happen, I'll wake you." He sort of promised.

Those fingers didn't stop their slow ministrations, he just slowly continued at his plight. He could see the Cajun's eyes sliding closed right there. It wouldn't be too long now.

At least the Cajun was relatively quiet.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 02:52 am UTC (link)
Relatively. He talked quietly all the way into his sleep, before he fell silent all together, hand slipping off of his chest as he did, falling limply beside him, palm up. Out like a light, Doctor. Congratulations. You'd put the red-eyed demon to sleep.

But it wouldn't last long. He was still for about half an hour, before he'd shifted in his sleep and started pushing the blanket off. After that, he'd kept pushing, while still slumbering fitfully, but there were no more blankets. He'd jerk and twist a little while trying to get cool, but eventually, that subsided as well and he fell into a still sleep once again. It had to be amusing to watch him, though, because even in his sleep, the red-head smiled sometimes. Strange young man.

But it was almost a full hour, now around five o'clock, that the Cajun went from laying there comfortably to shivering a little. It had started slow, he'd rolled from his back to his front a few times before he'd ended up curling up some to conserve body heat. But eventually, it had woken him up, tired red eyes cracking open before they widened a bit more, taking in the room around him. Only then did needy fingers grab at the blanket and pull it back up around him with another little shiver. Then those odd eyes landed on the Doctor and he smiled slowly. "Hi." His slow greeting. God, he was freezing. He'd just been hot a second ago-- well. Two hours ago, when he'd fallen asleep. But it felt like a second ago.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 02:59 am UTC (link)
He'd managed to work for a while. He'd listed out all of the frequencies he could remember, making notes about each in a long-dead shorthand. Sure, Nine would understand it; but nobody else, and that was just fine by this Time Lord. Good luck deciphering this, Management, unless you were psychic or had the Master locked up some place, you'd never know what those little annotations meant for good or ill.

He'd peek up from time to time, catching sight of the Cajun as he thrashed and eventually settled in again. Then another round of shifting and pulling and the Cajun was murmuring lightly. Though, this time the Doctor thought he might actually be a bit more awake. Pushing off his chair and back onto the floor he took up that bottle. He'd managed to get another one from a long forgotten stash, this one would be full for you, Cajun. "Cold?" He asked, though it was quite obvious. Wordlessly the Doctor shifted, pulling off his trench and carefully draping it over his mutant.

Reaching out he felt those cheeks. Still burning. Still feverish. It'd break soon enough.

"Good dreams?" He asked.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 03:09 am UTC (link)
"Oui." He laughed a little with the delivery of that line, but it caused a short-lived cough and he waved his hand some before the trench coat was draped over him. Oh, that was better. His skin had gone so abruptly from sweaty to dry that it was now a little clammy, and about the same temperature it had been previously. At least it wasn't getting any worse, right?

However, with that prompt, Gambit was smiling again and nodding, tugging that make-shift pillow a bit further under his head as he turned up on his side, to get a better look at his Time Lord. "Grea' dreams. Bu' I don' really feel all 'dat grea', monsieur." The young man admitted in a chipper, but quiet tone. And that was saying something, coming from him, though the Doctor wouldn't know it. He felt pretty lousy. His muscles hurt, he was tired, cold, his chest hurt a little. God, he hadn't felt this bad when he'd woken up, it'd just been a cold.. maybe the flu. Just some coughing, some sneezing, some fatigue. But now? Oh, it had to have been letting Selene drink from him. That was stupid. Stupid, stupid Cajun. He hated medication, though, so wasn't about to ask for anything.. besides, he knew they didn't have anything.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 03:17 am UTC (link)
At least it wasn't worse. Thank goodness it wasn't worse. If the mutant had declined in the matter of a couple of hours the Doctor would have been worried. Very worried. Instead he was reassured that the fever was working it's course and there wasn't much they could do for it anyway aside from water it and give it something to snack on. From that same stash he'd found some long forgotten crisps. The bag was sealed so they'd still be quite crunchy.

"Well, you've managed quite the fever, mon ami," he replied, pulling the bag open with a squeal and a pop of plastic and glue. "Try and eat something, yeah?" He said, pulling out a crisp for himself before tilting the bag. He chewed thoughtfully. "With a little bit of luck and some rest you should be all better tomorrow, I'd think," not like he was a doctor or anything.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 03:22 am UTC (link)
Oh, Doctor. The Cajun was turning his face away when he smelled the chips and blanching a little. That did not smell appealing. And he buried his face in the pillow in an attempt to escape the smell, like a little kid avoiding cough medicine. "Oh, I don' feel well." That was mumbled into the pillow. Careful, Time Lord, you'd make him throw up, and no one wanted that in this tiny little room, now did they?

Another small noise into that pillow, then a cough followed, muffled there also before he turned his head to the side, dimmer red eyes locking onto him. But a smile found his lips. "Wan' chicken soup." He demanded in a teasing tone. Yes, Doctor, go find him some chicken soup. While you were at it, that silk-sheeted bed and a lovely woman in a bikini throwing little pickles at him would be nice, too.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 03:29 am UTC (link)
This was almost comical, seeing the big, bad Remy LeBeau shying away from a bag of crisps like they were poison? Priceless. "You don't? I never would have guessed."

Another chip taken, more crunchy chewing. "I'll go get you some chicken soup, a humidifier, a proper bed, perhaps some proper clothes and a hot water bottle while I'm out. I wouldn't want you to be sick and disappointed."

The Cajun had shifted and the Time Lord's hand was running slowly up and down his back, sneaking up under blankets and tattered clothes to make contact with flesh. "I'll also get you a television, some nice heavy blankets, too. Maybe an aquarium, I think it could do wonders for this room," his words were quiet and slow, a lullabye of sorts.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 03:35 am UTC (link)
Clever Doctor, whether you'd meant to be or not. The Cajun laughed a little again, but stopped when a cough interrupted and just grinned into that pillow, part of his scratched face obscured by it. It really was comical. Don't laugh at him, Doctor. Even if he was laughing at himself. "Oui, 'precia'e 'dat, Docteur." He admitted, fingers curling a little into the coat he had draped over his body.

And when that cool hand moved against his skin he shied away a little, but there wasn't far to go, so he eventually relaxed again. And while the Doctor had his hand there, rubbing lightly, he'd be able to feel the shudder in his body when he breathed in, the way his lungs struggled the get the air in. Still that hand and press it a little lower and you'd feel the shiver again, the reverberations that humans would miss, but that the Time Lord would surely catch. His lungs had something in them. Not just air. It was nothing the Cajun had noticed yet, he wouldn't for another hour or two, anyway. Not until his coughing got worse. "You so swee' 't me." He declared with a little grin. "Gimme uh cat, too."

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 03:43 am UTC (link)
"Oh bugger," he mumbled from lips that seemed to suffer from rapid downturn syndrome. There was a shudder as the Cajun tried to breathe. Another slow shaking movement from lungs that should be young and healthy and unobstructed. Instead, there was something threatening to come out and damper the clarity of his Cajun's breathing. Something that he was hoping was not pneumonia.

"No cats. I don't much like cats," he mumbled, pushing up to lean over the Cajun's back as he pulled down the jacket, pressed up the tatters and then settled his ear against the Cajun's back.

"No talking for a moment," he instructed. He was listening,Cajun and this was imporant business. Please no crackles, he thought.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 03:48 am UTC (link)
"Like cats. 'Dey warm an' curl up in y' lap." He continued on quietly even as the Doctor was telling him not to talk. Thankfully, though, he didn't continue on after that, only laid there and allowed his eyes to close again. Oh, he felt lousy, and his chest hurt.

While the Doctor rest his ear against the younger man's back, the Cajun shivered some again and drew in a deep breath thanks to the cold skin of the Time Lord chilling his over-heated body. Quite warm. And that deep breath in? Crackles. Shivers. The small reverberation of what could have been the beginnings of fluid. Sorry, Doctor. Your eager, energetic Cajun wouldn't like your diagnosis, if you told him to stay in bed. He wouldn't want to. He'd want to romp about, especially if you told him he couldn't.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 03:53 am UTC (link)
"They have claws."

He listened, feeling those shivers and then slipped his eyes closed as he heard that crackling noise of fluid.

"Pneumonia. You've managed to catch pneumonia," he diagnosed, carefully pulling that shirt back down and the coat back up. The Doctor wouldn't be letting the Cajun out of this bed. He wouldn't be letting him go anywhere.

Before he pulled away he brushed those cool lips over the back of Cajun's neck. If you'd known he'd actually be affectionate, would you have done everything you could to get sick, Remy? If you'd known he wouldn't let you leave and would lavish you with attention, do you think you'd have signed up sooner to battle a nasty infection in your lungs?

He wouldn't tell the Cajun he couldn't run and jump and play; no, he'd just distract him so he wouldn't want to. Sounded like a plan. The Doctor was pretty well prepared.

Bring. It. On.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 03:59 am UTC (link)
Clever, clever Doctor. "'Monia?" He asked slowly. Sorry, Time Lord, he'd never had it before and he wasn't exactly on the up-and-up of diseases, viral or bacterial. He knew, though, that it had to be similar to the flu, because this felt a little like that. Only, you know, worse.

Would he have gotten sick on purpose if he'd known? He would have DOUSED himself in water and played in the snow naked if he'd known it would get him this sort of attention. His body relaxed under the Doctor's lips, but his fingers twisted again some in the jacket. "Guess 'dis means no playin' wa'er polo t'day, huh? Prolly shoul' try an' res'." Not that he had any energy to do anything but rest. Really, he probably could have mustered some up if he needed to, but this was hitting him hard and fast. You should keep an eye on him, Doctor. His temperature was ticking up another notch just as he laid there, chattering away. "You don' gotta han' 'roun' me, promise. Know you go' ot'er t'in's t' be doin', 'sides lookin' af'er uh boy wit' 'de sniffles." You didn't have to... but he wanted you to.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 04:06 am UTC (link)
"Yes, pneumonia. It's an infection in your chest."

"Not today and probably not tomorrow, either." What he'd said before that with rest and an evening you'd be up and running? Well, that had been before he knew you had fluid building up in your lungs, Cajun.

"You need to drink more," he said. The Doctor leaned against the bed, draping his arm over the Cajun's waist and settling his head down on the edge. Good luck getting past him, Remy.

What had that Cajun said, about him not having to hang around? There wasn't any sort of response from the Doctor to that bit. He wasn't going anywhere, well unless his TARDIS turned up, anyway. You were his boy with the sniffles, even if he wouldn't say so aloud. Even if he pushed you off and away with every fiber of his being. Right now it didn't matter, you needed him and he was here. What was he going to do? Leave you with Jack and Ianto? Fat chance.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 04:59 am UTC (link)
"Non? Bu' you sai' I'd be jus' fine t'morrow." He complained in a slightly more whining tone, just for effect-- though he was smiling some, so the Time Lord would know that he was only teasing. He didn't mind laying in bed right now, especially not with the Doctor touching him the way he was. He could lay here for days, as long as the Time Lord stayed near.

"Gonna drink more, promise." The Cajun returned quietly, eyebrows lifting a little in a waggling motion before they relaxed again. That took too much effort. And his chest hurt. Over the next two hours, his chest would continue to increase in the pressure there and he began coughing steadily. First it was just once every little bit, then it became once every few minutes, and now it was a few times every few minutes, with the Cajun shivering beneath the coat and holding on tightly to the makeshift pillow. Oh, his couches sounded so good right now, much better than this floor, anyway.

And whether or not the Doctor stayed right next to him the whole time, or whether he went back to work at the desk, didn't really matter. Gambit wasn't moving anywhere.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-08-27 10:13 pm UTC (link)
The Doctor rolled his eyes. He knew this Cajun well enough to know when the other was just being difficult for difficulty's sake. Even more importantly, he knnew that teasing tone as well as anything else since it was the one it seemed he heard most often from the man.

The Doctor eventually pulled away, setting himself to the task at hand. He was nearly through with those frequencies, it would just take a few more... and then he heard that rattly chest and that cough. Taking up his journal he penned a note to that vampire, whoever they were. They'd broken the Cajun, they'd fix him.

"You warm enough?" He asked the Cajun quietly, snapping his book shut.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-08-27 10:25 pm UTC (link)
When asked if he was warm enough, the Cajun twisted some and settled onto his back, panting out a few short breaths that made his chest hurt a little more and caused a few more coughs. Enough that he had to sit up and bend forward, coughing heavily into his gloved hand for a second or two, the Doctor's coat sliding to pool in his lap as he did. But eventually, he was able to relax again and take a deep breath in (forcing another small cough) before he rubbed his other hand over his cheek. This sucked.

Finally, red eyes turned aside onto the Doctor and he smiled crookedly, eyebrows lifting up. "Woul' be warmer if I had uh warm Docteur curlin' up wit' me." It was half joke, half serious.. Okay, more like twenty-five percent joke and seventy-five percent serious. "How you feelin', Docteur?" He was still a little concerned that he'd get the other man sick, and that wasn't something he wanted. Not at all.

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