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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
2009-08-27 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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