Surviving Paradise (Full Draft Version)

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 38

Ashton was wrapped in a blanket on the couch, and Jane was right, he didn't look well.  But the first thing he said upon seeing her and Will rush in was, “Did Jane call you?!  I told her not to.”

Ignoring that, Allisa dropped to sit on the coffee table, automatically putting a hand to his head, as if he were not a vampire, and might have fever.  His skin was cool and clammy, and realizing the triviality of what she had done, she pulled it back inquiring, “What's wrong?”

“Just stiff and sore.  Everything hurts.”  Ash shifted slightly on the couch, as if he couldn't get comfortable.

“And he hurled his V8.  Exorcist style,”  Jane supplied, a tinge of disgust in her voice, no doubt having witnessed the awfulness, and probably even cleaned the mess.  Allisa's gaze fell on the hem of Jane's jeans, which were speckled with something dark, and she suppressed her own shudder of revulsion at the thought of a stream of o-negative sprouting from Ashton's mouth.

“This is normal.  Remember when we discussed the dose, we talked about your body rejecting what was going to happen?”

“Yeah.  It's fine Ally, I told her not to call you.”

Allisa jumped when he spoke aloud.  Upon realizing that she, herself, had simply been thinking about the dose, and he had picked up on the loud thoughts, then answered her aloud, caused a wan smile.   He attempted one himself as if to say, gotcha.

Or maybe he had really said “gotcha” in his head to her.  It was all so confusing.  Aloud she said,  “We had already left my parents, but it's fine. You should call me about this stuff anytime.  You did the right thing.”  Allisa sent a reassuring nod to Jane, who stood assessing, with her arms folded.  Will also hovered between the kitchen, where he had grabbed a drink, and the main room. 

An hour later, the tests she had run were processed, a shot had alleviated his symptoms, and his normal pale color was back.  Will had migrated upstairs to nap or snipe zombies, and Jane, who had been flipping aimlessly through the tv channels, departed to ready for work. 

“Ash?”  Allisa once again sat on the sofa table, injecting one last dose into his upper arm.  Ashton was sipping at his 'v-8' and keeping it down, but she cautiously kept an eye out, unwilling to be the victim of an exorcist hurl.  “Remember what we talked about before?  Is that still what you want?”

Ashton had upped the stakes, within a week of being on his new prescription, asking something of her, begging something of her, that was a possibility, but also a huge risk.

“Ally, don't back out.”  His eyes drilled into hers, forcing them to his.  “Please...”

Maternally she tucked at his blanket.  “What happened today, that is nothing compared to what you will go through...”

“I don't care.”

“If it doesn't work, if I am wrong...”  The thought of being wrong, at such a cost, paralyzed her senses with fear.

“It will work.  You are never wrong.”  Aston spoke confidently, and sharpened his gaze on her when she cringed as the straw slurped.  “Sorry...”

“If I am,”  She wasn't deferred from their primary discussion, “...you might die...”

“And this is living?”  The sarcastic question was tossed out, as the bag emptied, and this time she felt that his slurp was purposeful to make his point.

“But Jane,”  Allisa made sure her words were the barest whisper.

“Deserves so much more.”  The interruption was bitter.  Ashton turned those hypnotic eyes away, staring into some far distant thought.  “If I had died that night, she would have moved on.  I wish I had--”