In My Blood (Completed)

CHAPTER 15: Here Comes The Sun

Chloe was grateful when Beca fell asleep without incident. The infection would no doubt take its toll on her body, so it was important to rest as much as possible so her body would have the strength to fend it off--besides, if Beca had to weather the storm of this sickness, maybe it would be easier to pass through it in unconsciousness. Although Beca's fever was still worrisome, there was little they could do at the moment without medication or other means of trying to lower it. Chloe could really only trust that, having dealt with the symptoms of infection before with her earlier bite, Beca was correct in assuring her that it would pass within a few days. Chloe and the kids spent part of the afternoon boarding up the windows. It took more time than it would have if Chloe had simply done it by herself, but they had the time to spare and both Luke and Nell had seemed eager to help and learn--Chloe wouldn't begrudge them a learning experience when the excitement and pride were evident on their faces as she walked them through the process and complimented them when they did particular tasks well. Through it all, Beca slept without stirring at any of the noise they made, and when it grew dark outside, Chloe fixed a simple dinner for her and the kids and tucked them into one of the beds together. Once she was content that the kids were settled for the night, she returned to the living room and settled into the chair closest to the couch with a blanket.

*

Beca woke around midnight in the midst of another nightmare, gasping as she pushed upright on the couch and reached up to brace her hand over her quick-thumping heart. “Chloe! Chloe? Chlo--” Her frantic call came on a pathetic, desperate rasp as the single candle on the coffee table illuminated Chloe’s form resting in the chair where the kids had been earlier, and her heart rate began to slow as she blinked through the foggy haze blurring the line between her terrible dream and the reality where Chloe was still with her, still alive and uninjured. Jesus. A sheen of sweat covered her skin making her t-shirt stick unpleasantly to her torso and she realized, sluggishly, that her fever must have broken; she no longer shivered or felt delirious, though it did take a few extra seconds to process where she was and recall what happened earlier that day. Her head throbbed and her body ached and her mouth was so dry her tongue felt like sandpaper, but at least her body temperature returned to normal. “Shit,” she breathed, raking a shaky hand through her hair.

*

A gasp, a rustle of fabric, a panicked call of her name--she snapped back into wakefulness from the disorienting, gauzy haze of sleep, jerking into a more upright position from the recliner. She couldn't even be sure when she had dozed off, but the startled panic of Beca's voice waking her jolted her from sleep with added clarity. The soft glow of the candle illuminated Beca's seated figure, and while an instantaneous swell of relief bubbled up in her chest, it was swiftly tempered by concern when Beca seemed so rattled. She scrambled out of the chair and moved to sit on the edge of the couch near Beca's legs so she could face her. "Hey, I'm right here." Her hand settled on Beca's shoulder as a physical reassurance and she took note of the sweat that dampened her shirt, but it quickly shifted upwards to press the back of her hand against Beca's forehead. Her fever seemed to have broken, which was a definite improvement. She quickly pushed to her feet and crossed the room, retrieving a bottle of water. As soon as she returned to settle on the couch again, she unscrewed the lid and offered the water out to Beca. "Here you go." This might have been her first time watching someone deal with this infection who would actually recover from it, but she knew that making sure Beca stayed hydrated would be essential in helping her through it. "How are you feeling?"

*

Though Beca exuded confidence in knowing about how the bite would affect her, the truth of it was she only remembered some of her symptoms. Others, she’d either forgotten or couldn’t parse out from what was a symptom of the bite and what was a symptom of the tidal wave of grief after losing Sara. She remembered the fever and the weakness, but she didn’t make much of an attempt to do anything other than lie there and let the infection take her for days (she’d been convinced, after time passed beyond the point of turning into a clicker, that it would be merciful and kill her with fevers instead). This time, she wanted to fight it. She wanted to get back to full strength so she could protect Chloe and the kids.