? Tender Loving Care Part 2: Louis StyleDisclaimer: The Rice lady owns these, not me. I make no money and mean no offense. Warnings: slash Spoilers: TVA, I guess. Other Info: Loose sequel to Tender Loving Care, with Daniel and Armand. The house was eerily dark and quiet, save for the soft ticking of the clock in the living room. It slowly counted off each and every second, never skipping a beat, and at precisely seven thirty, it gave its customary half-hour chime. As if turned on by unseen hands, the fireplace sparkled to life as the gas turned on at the timer's command. A soft glow filled the bottom of the house as the indirect lighting turned on simultaneously. Upstairs, in the second bedroom down the hall, Louis opened his eyes, then narrowed them. Something was not right. He was just as he had gone to sleep, laid out straight with his hands crossed on his chest, and he was unharmed. The window was shut and the curtains drawn. Then he recognized the weight against his left side. He sighed in furious exasperation. "Lestat, I've told you before not to slip into my bed when I'm asleep," he growled, getting up and heading for the dresser. He angrily jerked the tangles out of his hair, but after a moment he paused. Louis turned and looked back. Lestat was huddled motionless under the blankets, barely breathing, and he hadn't given back a sarcastic reply. Placing the brush back on the dresser, he walked back over, noticing that Lestat wasn't entirely motionless. He seemed to be...shivering? "Lestat?" he asked in a softer voice. When there was no reply, he repeated his question and lay his hand on his lover's cheek. With a surprised gasp, he drew it away again. Lestat was cold to the touch. Taking a deep breath and bracing himself for whatever might happen, he firmly grabbed Lestat's shoulder and gave him a gentle shake, trying to rouse him. There was a weak rasp that sounded like it was trying to be a groan, and Lestat winced. "Pain...cold..." he whispered, huddling into an even tighter ball. His shivering worsened until he was practically trembling under the thin blankets. Louis put his knuckles to his mouth in shock. Vampires don't get sick, Lestat couldn't be sick...this shouldn't be happening...he shouldn't be so cold...he shouldn't be shivering...he should be warm and smiling and holding me... Not knowing what else to do, he stepped into the adjoining bathroom and started running the water as hot as it would flow. Steam filled the top of the room, rendering the mirror useless and making the towels damp. He left the tub plugged, not caring if it overflowed, and went back to Lestat, who was now making tiny whimpering noises and doing his best not to move. "Hold still," Louis warned him, careful not to startle Lestat into hurting himself. He flung back the blankets and Lestat moaned again, but Louis put his arms under Lestat and picked him up. The fledgling held his maker close and shuddered as the frozen skin came against his. Lestat, however, smiled slightly. "Why're y'shiv'rin'?" Lestat whispered, grotesquely black tears falling from his eyes like melted gelatin. "Y're so warm..." Louis didn't answer. Once they were in the bathroom, Louis shut the door and put Lestat, clothes and all, into the bathtub. Water splashed over the edges and rose up to Lestat's throat as he sighed in partial relief now that he was able to relax his muscles. Louis reached into the water, ignoring the heat that threatened to scald him, and tore off Lestat's shirt and pants. He was astonished to see the same half-congealed blood seeping from the cloth. "A cold sweat?" he wondered to himself. "But that would mean you have a--" He broke off and looked back down at Lestat, who was slipping further into the water. Louis felt his forehead. "Lestat...you...you have a fever..." Lestat didn't reply, though. His breathing had finally returned to normal, and he was drowsing in the warmth. Louis sighed and stroked his blonde hair, quietly reassuring him that he wasn't alone. A few minutes later, the water had cooled down to where Louis could tolerate it, and Lestat started to whimper and curl up again. Without hesitation, Louis pulled the plug and ran the hot water again even as the old water ran out. When he couldn't put his hand in anymore, he turned it off. "I'm going to go turn the heat up," he murmured, "and get some more blankets for the bed. Just stay right here, all right?" Lestat barely nodded and turned his head to the side, quickly falling asleep again. Louis smiled sadly, then stood up and went to the hallway where he pushed the thermostat to its highest setting. Once he grabbed their heaviest feather blankets from the closet, he returned and threw them on the bed. There was a faint buzzing in the back of his head, but he was too concerned about Lestat to pay it any attention. When he came back into the bathroom, he found Lestat still asleep. Louis knelt by the tub and picked up the bar of rose scented soap, winced as he dipped it into the water, and started to wash off the bits of black blood that spotted along Lestat's skin. When there was a fine layer of the blood on the water's surface, Louis let the water out again and filled the tub up once more. Lestat woke up with soft fingers running through his hair, massaging a wonderfully scented shampoo into the dull locks and washing away the blood and tangles. He opened his eyes, which had also been rinsed of blood, and stared up at his lover. Louis noticed the weak gaze and smiled, giving Lestat a soft kiss. "It's all right, Lestat," Louis said, "I'll take care of you." Lestat shook his head vaguely. "No...get away...migh' cassh...cashh..." he couldn't form the words properly, but Louis could still tell what he meant. "I do not care," he replied. "You are sick, and I am going to help you. Besides, if I could catch it, I would have had it before you." He reached into the now-tepid water and let the water run out, then grabbed the large fluffy towels hanging beside them. Louis dried off most of Lestat's body in the tub, then lifted him up and toweled the moisture from his hair. "Ready to go back to bed?" Lestat gave a tiny nod, then groaned in agony and held his hands to his head. "Hurts..." he rasped. "Eyes...on fire..." "Let's get you to bed," Louis said quickly, "and then I'll find you a mortal gorged on aspirin." Lestat tried to look at him, but all he saw was a big blur that faded and flickered in a dim haze. There was a violent twinge of pain in his side and he gasped, holding on tight as Louis put his comforting arms out and lifted him up. Fortunately the house was quite warm now, so there was no chill to make Lestat even more miserable. With one hand, Louis spread out the first feather blanket on the bed, over the other covers, and lay his lover down on it. He smiled a little as Lestat sank into deep blanket, and brought another thick blanket on top of him. He added two more blankets, each heavier than the first, and eased a fat feather pillow under Lestat's head, until the sick vampire was little more than a blonde mop of hair concealed under layers of blankets. While he watched, those thick tears scratched their way out from between Lestat's eyelids again, and it took him a moment to realize that Lestat wasn't crying, they were coming out by themselves. He went back to the bathroom, soaked down a washcloth in cold water, and brought it back. Worried that the cold would bother his maker, he wiped away the tears, surprised when Lestat sighed in relief. "So cool..." Lestat whispered. "The cold feel good on your eyes?" Louis asked, and Lestat nodded. He noticed that the tears had stopped coming with the pressure on the lids, so he soaked another cloth down, folded it over a few times and lay it across Lestat's eyes. "All right, I'm going to go find something for both of us to eat, and then--" Suddenly the phone rang, and he snatched it up before it bothered Lestat. "Louis! It's me, Jessica!" Louis sighed impatiently. "Jesse, not to be rude, but I simply cannot talk right now--" "I know, Lestat's sick." Louis blinked. "You know?" "Louis, I've been trying to get a hold of you mentally, but you were too busy to listen." "So that's what that buzzing was," Louis muttered. "Jesse, what's happening to Lestat? Why is he so ill?" "It's like an immortal flu bug," she explained hastily, knowing Louis wouldn't have his usual patience. "Armand got it last, but it hits the more powerful vampires worst. You won't catch it, but Lestat's gonna be absolutely helpless. He's gonna get worse before he gets better." "Worse?" Louis cried faintly. He looked protectively at Lestat, who was sleeping soundly now. "How much...?" "Louis, keep him off of human blood and vampire blood. Only animals, really small animals. The rest'll only make him even sicker. Keep him as warm as you can, and keep him in the dark. Bright lights will hurt his eyes. And Louis...he might attack you." "Attack me?" Louis gasped. "If he does that...I can't fight him." "But he'll be weak and delirious, so it won't be that bad. Just keep him chained down. Look, I'll call you later, okay? I know you want to grab a bite." "No, I'll call you," Louis said firmly, "so the phone won't bother Lestat. Thank you, Jessica." He hung up and grabbed a large box from the closet. After a reassuring kiss to Lestat's forehead, he went down to the front door and knelt down. Louis shut his eyes and concentrated as hard as he could, trying to mimic the mental trick Armand had shown him, and tweaking it in the process. Half a minute went by. Squeaks, like bats, started echoing in the distance, coming closer with each passing moment. Red eyes peered out from the darkness down the street. Tiny claws scratched at the pavement. A small herd of monstrously large rats came running towards him, stopping when they were a few feet away. He opened the box, and they obediently ran inside, crowding in until he could close it shut. Then he locked the door, stuffed the rats in the second bathroom, and took two with him to the bedroom. He drained the first one and tossed it out the window, then filled a nearby glass with the other rat's blood, discarding of its carcass in the same manner. Louis sat beside Lestat and gently roused him, sitting his maker up so he could slip behind him. "Wh...wha...?" Lestat moaned. "Shh, it's all right," Louis murmured. "Time to eat." He held the glass to Lestat's lips, helping him drink it down in small sips. "Any better?" Lestat nodded a tiny bit. "Stay...don' go..." he whimpered. "I won't," Louis promised as he set the glass aside. "I'm not leaving you. Here, go back to sleep. I'll hold you." "Lov...you..." Lestat tried to say, letting his head fall back. "I know," Louis told him. He cradled Lestat in his arms, kissing his cheek. "Just rest now." The next night, Lestat opened his eyes as he felt an extremely odd sensation around his face. He forced himself to turn his head an inch to catch a gold and white blur running along his hair. "Are you awake?" Louis asked softly. Lestat didn't try to answer coherently. He gave a tiny moan to say yes. The pain was worse than last night, as if he had a roaring flame in his abdomen. "You're hair was all tangled," Louis said. "I thought you'd be more comfortable if I brushed it." Lestat closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the brush running through his hair and loosening the knots. The brushing abruptly stopped, but he felt a cool cloth press against his eyes and face, dropping his temperature a few degrees. He finally noticed that he still had a headache, and he couldn't stop the strangled half-sob that escaped out of his raw throat. He groaned and tried to nuzzle his face into the blankets, as if the softness there could make the pain go away. "Shh, try not to speak," Louis whispered, laying the compress over the top of Lestat's face, blinding him. Lestat didn't care that he couldn't see, the only thing he could concentrate on the agonizing twinges of pain racing through his muscles, part sickness and part hunger pangs. Without needing any prompting, Louis set Lestat back down on the pillow and went to the box with all the rats, picking one at random. It was monstrously huge, almost as large as a dog, but Louis hardly noticed. In fact, he hadn't noticed anything lately, other than Lestat's illness. Not the sirens that used to wake him up during his naps, not the four cell phones Lestat had in the bedroom alone (which he had broken in case they disturbed his lover), and certainly not the pile of mail accumulating at the front door. He finished killing the rodent and filled the glass with its blood. Easing one arm under Lestat to help him sit up, Louis put the glass to his maker's lips and allowed Lestat to drink in tiny sips. Lestat drank everything he was offered, but he almost wanted to spit it all out before it ran down his sore throat and ignited even more pain. Louis noticed a tiny spill over Lestat's lip, and when the cup was empty, he bent and licked it away. "Col'," Lestat hissed, unable to speak any louder. "Cold?" Understanding Lestat's half words was difficult enough, now Louis could barely hear him. "I will run another bath for you." Leaving Lestat in his nest of blankets, Louis again went to the bathroom and started running hot water, filling the tub full. Once that was done, he returned to the bed and unwrapped Lestat from his feathery cocoon. Lestat huddled close to Louis' body, trying to absorb the vast warmth he could feel in his fledgling's flesh. Louis lay his lover in the tub, and once he was sure Lestat's face would not sink beneath the water, he went downstairs and found a dusty kettle in the kitchen. He cleaned it off, filled it full of water, and put it on the stove. He ran back upstairs to look in on Lestat, and he smiled to see him fast asleep. Louis watched him breathe steadily for awhile, but once the teapot started to whistle, he had to go back to the kitchen and fetch it. When he came back, Lestat was already starting to shiver again, even though the water was still painfully hot. Louis took a deep breath and cautiously tipped the boiling water into the tub, first as a trickle and then releasing all of it when Lestat smiled broadly. Knowing the relief would not last long, he took the teapot back to the stove and left the house for a little while, racing down the streets and breaking into a nearby store. Not caring if his blurry trail was left on camera for a future Talamascan to puzzle over, he stole as many teapots as he could carry and ran back home. He filled four and put them on the stove while the took the first one back upstairs, where Lestat was beginning to moan in discomfort again. Louis kept that hectic pace for nights on end, running back and forth from kitchen to bathroom until his legs were sore. Although the hot water eased his suffering, Lestat's pain increased as his strength decreased, until he had to fight to draw in every breath. Daybreak was a comfort Louis looked ahead to every night. Lestat couldn't feel his pain while he was in the death sleep. Jessica must have been wrong, Louis murmured to himself, while feeding Lestat one night. He cannot attack me. He does not have the strength. He put the bloody glass back down and cradled Lestat in his lap, stroking his hair back while he occasionally kissed him. Lestat had mumbled that he felt better this way, quietly held close. Once in awhile he would start crying and whisper strange words and phrases, and Louis wondered if that was the delirium Jessica had mentioned. "Candy...melting cl'cks," Lestat rambled on, eyes half shut and unfocused. "Burnin' m'shrooms 'n dragon b'dderflies..." "Hush," Louis sighed as he rocked Lestat in his arms. "Don't talk. Save your strength." "Hur's..." Lestat said as he gasped in pain. Another spasm had hit his side. "Try to sleep," his fledgling replied. "You're exhausted. Stop fighting and sleep." "'Fraid...I...won' wake...up..." "No, don't be afraid," Louis reassured him, pulling him closer for a kiss. Lestat's skin was burning hot and yet he was still cold. "I'm right here. I won't let anything happen to you." "B't..." "At least a nap. Close your eyes, Lestat. Sleep." "'Kay," Lestat gave in, sounding eerily like a child. "Sleep on stage...'n ball'rinas dancin' on aut'mn..." Finally his eyes closed and he blacked out. Louis pulled another blanket on top of both of their bodies, even though he felt suffocatingly hot, and allowed himself to nap as well. When he opened his eyes again, Louis did not know what had roused him. The room was still silent, except for the occasionally rush of water through the pipes. It was a soothing noise, however, and not one that would have brought him out of sleep. Then he felt the sharp fangs on his throat, scraping weakly at his skin. Panicking, Louis backed away and slid out from under Lestat, abandoning him on the bed. Lestat howled as if a limb had been torn off, and he somehow managed to turn onto his stomach, covering his face with his hands as he cried. Every miserable wail made his throat hurt even more and turned his voice from a whisper to a ragged hiss, and he had to gasp for every breath. "Lestat, stop crying," Louis said, returning cautiously. "You'll only make it worse." He was certain Lestat couldn't hear him, though. His maker cried and moaned and basically threw a feeble tantrum, but Louis had a feeling that this was out of genuine pain. Louis left him bawling there while he went to the garage. There was a long coil of rope on one of the shelves, and he took it back upstairs with him. He easily turned Lestat over onto his back and grabbed his wrists, which had become sickeningly thin. Trying to keep the rope loose but still firm, Louis bound Lestat's left wrist to the side of the bed, and the other to the opposite ending. Lestat kept weeping, but now he couldn't even move one way or another. He tugged at his bonds, then violently pulled against them. "Lestat, please try to sleep," Louis whispered. "You're so tired, you must be able to fall asleep." But Lestat didn't stop. He cried and begged nonsense for another half an hour, tossing and thrashing in Louis' hold despite the ropes. Louis tried to cool his face down with the soaked cloth, and he massaged the sore muscles in Lestat's body. It helped for awhile, but just when Louis thought Lestat was close to sleep, his patient started acting up again. "C'aud'a..." Lestat groaned, trying to sit up and barely strong enough to breath. "Cl'dia...wait...c'm back..." Louis looked down in alarm. How close was Lestat to the edge? He wanted to put his hands on Lestat's shoulders and shake him, but that might break his bones. "F'ther...N'kki...don' go...don' go...don' l've me..." Lestat's weeping grew louder, into raspy screams. "N...no...no...Lou'...not you...stay...Lou..." "I'm right here," Louis insisted, leaning over him. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, I'm with you." Lestat shook his head stubbornly. "No...leavin' me..." He could see Louis smiling at him, then turning and slowly disappearing into a dense fog. He tried to run, but his legs were too heavy. Louis was leaving, he was going away, and he couldn't get to him! "Louis! Come back!" Louis watched in horror as the delirium completely took over Lestat's mind. His lover twisted and fought the ropes, tearing his skin and drawing blood. He was wasting his strength. He would die if he kept this up. He would die. Louis slashed his tongue and the inside of his cheek, pressed his mouth against Lestat's, and forced him to drink. Damn stupid Jessica's rules, Lestat needed this now. As soon as the wonderfully familiar blood rushed into his mouth, Lestat calmed down. Louis was not disappearing, he was here, he was feeding him, as if Lestat was the fledgling and Louis his maker. Lestat was crying out of sheer joy, Louis' blood seemed to be an antidote to all the pain and agony in his body. He lay still, accepting all that was offered. When Louis drew back, Lestat was calm again, staring up at his fledgling with weary eyes. Louis smiled, then started to laugh in relief. Lestat's eyes were sane. "Is...'t over?" Lestat whispered. Louis nodded. "Your delirium is gone. How do you feel?" "Weak," Lestat admitted. "And so very tired." He was quiet a moment. "And damn hot...what's with all these...blankets--?" he suddenly launched into a coughing fit. "That's why," Louis smiled. He took the top covers off, however, leaving a feather blanket and some sheets on him. "Get some sleep." "Can't I have...something to...eat first?" Mere speech seemed to take a lot of him. He was breathing hard when he finished his question. "If you promise to sleep afterward," Louis nodded. Lestat gave him a playful grin that belied the soreness in his body. Louis just rolled his eyes and fetched another rat, one of the last ones, and filled a glass for Lestat, who still drank it down in small sips. "So," he said, giving Louis the glass back, "what've...I missed?" "You promised you would go right to sleep," Louis chided him. "I said...I'd sleep after," Lestat breathed heavily. "You are an obstinate child." "Lou'...what'd I miss...while...was sick..." "Was? You're still sick, Lestat. You need your rest." Louis put his hand on Lestat's chest and easily pushed him down onto the mattress, arranging the pillows beneath his head. Lestat groaned reluctantly, but as soon as his eyes closed, he was fast asleep. Louis watched him for awhile, watching as the angelic face shifted emotions little by little for his dreams, then lay down beside him and fell asleep. Finally, for the first time in weeks, he was certain that Lestat would be all right. Lestat watched grumpily as Louis entered the room, carrying a book and a small lamp. "Really, Louis, this is not fair. I've been stuck in bed for a week! When are you going to let me up?" "When you are strong enough again," Louis said patiently. "You still cannot stand on your own two feet, which you found out rather painfully, if you remember." Lestat sighed dramatically and looked the other way. He'd tried to get out of bed early yester night and instead fell flat on the floor. Louis'd had to put him back in bed because Lestat simply hadn't the strength to push himself up. "It's going to be a long time before you're back to normal," Louis smiled. "You were awfully sick for so long." He helped Lestat sit up and rearranged the pillows, so that his lover could sit up comfortably. Lestat slid his hand into Louis', and his fledgling gently kissed him before standing back up. Louis had to kiss him gently as possible. Strong contact left Lestat bruised for nights on end. "So what must I listen to tonight?" Lestat asked in pretended boredom. "Dickens? Melville? Dickenson? Some dreary author that will put me to sleep?" Louis smiled to himself. He knew full well that Lestat loved being read to and taken care of. Having his hair brushed, his hand held comfortingly, his cheek stroked softly...being so tenderly kissed and held...Lestat loved this attention, and being a recuperating invalid gave him the perfect, if slightly embarrassing, excuse to allow himself to receive it. "I should be so lucky that you would fall asleep like a good child with a bedtime story," Louis sighed in mock-aggravation, plugging in the lamp. "I've always gloried in disobedience," Lestat laughed, then paused to catch his breath. Louis switched on the lamp, then sat beside Lestat on the bed. "I decided faerie tales might be a welcome break from my favorite novels." "I will do my best not to fall asleep," Lestat smirked. Fifteen minutes later he was out cold. Louis didn't leave, though. He got up and eased Lestat back down into the bed and lay his head on the pillows, amidst Lestat's unconscious grumblings. When Lestat was back with the covers up to his chin, Louis turned off his lamp, put his book away, and lay down next to his maker. Still tired from past exertions, Louis joined Lestat in a deep slumber, and held his hand as he drifted to sleep. The End
