Domino Effect {tag; Dez}

[Martine Liten]

Sebastian had remained silent when Desiré was thinking.  He tried, desperately, to give him a pleading look without being obnoxious about it.  This was his brother though, his older brother.  The same older brother that he used to get to do the weirdest things just because Sebastian had begged him to play.  Sebastian was much more self-respecting now though, and begging just wasn't something that he did.

Uncle Dirk would just have more fuel if Sebastian did that anyway.

Then Desiré proclaimed that he would do it and Sebastian couldn't stop himself from smiling.  "Great!  But. . . we have to get to Nero.  He can't just come in here and treat you."  He stood up from his chair, glancing around the room as if he was looking for a solution.  "We could say you're going on a walk?  Just around the hospital or something."  He bit his lip and turned back to Desiré, trying to be creative.  "I could get you a wheelchair?  Or crutches?"  But Desiré hated appearing weak and admitting that he was hurt.  "Or you could be an ass and hobble out of here.  Whatever you want."

Sebastian was getting anxious.  He wanted to get this done.  He wanted to see his brother get better.

He wanted to stop feeling like he was responsible for something horrible, although he imagined that his brother getting miraculously better wasn't even going to cure him of that.

But. . . maybe it would help.

He was selfish, wasn't he?  Taking something that could be great for Desiré and making it about himself?  About his guilt?  And dammit, he should be guilty.  It was his fault, after all.  And he should feel that guilt forever and ever and suffer like guilty people should.

His hands absently clenched into balls, a sudden flash of uncertainty darting across his face.  He was quick to mask it, straightening his posture and turning himself a little to the side.  Things would get easier with time, right?  Right.

[Desiré Alys]

Ahh, that might be a problem.  Desiré hadn't known that he was going to have to figure out a way to GET to Nero, and a quick glance at the IV in his arm and the mess he was made him wonder just how much luck he'd have in moving.  He'd had to get Nurse Webb to help him to the bathroom already, which he HATED WITH A PASSION, but what else could he do?  He wasn't going to be a hassle and start making demands.  That was a Sebastian sort of move.  He'd have done it if it was FOR Sebastian, but he'd been planning on just suffering.  He'd asked for some crutches or something so that he didn't have to ask for help to the bathroom all the time, and the nurse had set them beside his bed, probably feeling bad for him.  Wouldn't that be a long walk on crutches?

Dragging an IV?

Yeeeeah, right.  If he was going to leave the hospital, he was losing the IV.  Period.  He wasn't dragging that thing around.  He could suffer with the blue pants they'd stuck him in, even if they were baggy and looked like PJ pants and the white t-shirt, but an IV was pushing it.  Hopefully, he wouldn't get reamed for taking it out when they got back later.

He was still assuming that he'd be coming back. 

"I'll use a crutch.  My arm's too messed up for two, but I only really need one on the opposite side, anyway.  If we're gonna go, we should probably go soon.  That nurse said she had to take care of something, so we don't want to wait long enough to run into her on our way out, and Mom said she wouldn't be around until after work," he warned Sebastian.  He didn't want to have to explain to the nurse or their parents why he was as messed up as he was and sneaking out of the hospital.  If they didn't run into anyone, it gave him more time to think up an excuse that wouldn't involve Sebastian. 

He leaned, covering up the wince he wanted to make, and grabbed one of the crutches that had fallen along the wall, just about out of sight, and pulled it close enough that he could start pulling himself out of bed.  Naturally, there were no arguments about being quick out of his younger brother, so he rested the crutch against the bed, slipped his right foot into one of those cheap hospital slippers, and started pulling that sticky medical tape off of his arm to rip the IV out.  Fortunately, it hadn't been pumping him full of anything that he thought was necessary, though he might miss the painkillers in it.  Oh well, they'd just put it back in later.

Finally, he hopped as carefully out of bed as he could, his whole body feeling like one great big ache, and he leaned on his less damaged side.  He offered up an abused version of his usual triumphant grin, and gestured to the door with his less damaged hand.  "After you.  And Sebastian?"

He waited until his brother was actually looking at him before making his next comment.  "Whether this works or not, it's all gonna be okay, I promise.  Got that?"  Sebastian had been adamant with their mother about not making promises like that, though he didn't know it, but Desiré would make that promise.  Sebastian was going to heal just fine, so everything was good.  Desiré knew he was strong enough to handle his own problems, and he remembered his big concern from the crash.  He remembered the way he turned the wheel, and why.  He might have missed the tree entirely if he'd have just risked hitting it on Sebastian's side, and given exactly how he'd hit it on his side, he was now confident that he could have avoided it.  He hadn't been willing to try, though.  If he hadn't made it work, it could be Sebastian in this situation, and that wasn't acceptable.  Everything was going to be okay because he'd made the right choice.  Now, he'd just deal with it, and maybe it would work out for him, as well.

[Martine Liten]

Sebastian watched as Desiré got himself up, nodding along to his warning.  "Alright," he agreed.  Then they would leave now.  The sooner the better, Sebastian thought.  He wasn't sure how Nero was going to work this, but he was fairly certain that the results wouldn't be instantaneous.  That would be too lucky, and Sebastian just wasn't lucky.  He was already pushing his luck, literally, in that department.  He might have to offer a sacrifice to the Luck Monkey to keep this up.

He was looking out of the door was Desiré hailed him, and he slowly turned to face him, curious and unsure.  "...it's gonna be okay, I promise."  His eyes instantly narrowed, color appearing across his cheeks.  Don't make that promise, he wanted to say.  Don't lie to me.  But his lips didn't move, he only stared, hard, at his brother.  Then hurt struck his eyes and he blinked quickly, suddenly threatened by tears.  So he turned away and headed towards the door, not waiting for Desiré to follow.  "Don't say that," he said, tired.  But he stopped at the door, turning around to face his brother again.  He wanted to say something, that much was clear, but he was having trouble forming the words.

Because Sebastian was never good at expressing himself.

His eyes hit the floor and he sighed, shaking his head as he thought better of what he was about to do.  He didn't know how to say it.  He didn't know how to say that he had been so worried about Desiré, that he had cried.  That he blamed himself.  That the guilt was killing him.  So he decided not to even try.  He would probably be misunderstood anyway.  Desiré wouldn't hear him, he would try to make him feel better.  But that wasn't actually listening.  He would tell him that he was wrong, that he shouldn't feel like that, but that wouldn't help him.  So what was even the point?

He didn't bother forcing a smile or reassuring Desiré that, never mind, he was fine.  Instead he slipped out of the door and started down the hall.

[Desiré Alys]

Desiré, as sore and messed up as he was, still had the presence of mind to look around for someone who might stop them, then try to look as much like he belonged limping out of the hospital on that crutch as he could.  They got some looks, but nobody stopped them, so he must have done alright.  Good, since he really didn't want to be focusing on that.  He was more concerned about Sebastian, who had looked like he was going to say something, something painful for one of them (probably Sebastian), and then he'd changed his mind.

They were going to have to have a 'talk' later, to figure all this out.  He didn't need Sebastian blaming himself for something that wasn't his fault.  Distraction or no, Desiré knew how to drive, he'd been told a zillion times not to let his passengers distract him, and he'd made a simple mistake.  He didn't think Sebastian knew that he'd deliberately turned the wheel in the direction that risked himself instead of his younger brother, and that was fine for now.  Sebastian would only guilt himself for that, too.  Surprise, though.  Desiré was realizing that Sebastian must blame himself, which he knew he should have guessed sooner, but why would he have?  That look on his brother's face made him wonder, though.  He wouldn't have thought it, but was that what it was?  They were going to have to talk.

He sucked at those.

Really, Desiré was the one that understood people on an emotional level better, but that was really just because he was a nice guy who had a load of friends with all different sorts of drama.  That didn't mean he was good at talking about 'feelings' or getting into those heart-to-heart talks.  He was just going to have to do his best, and hope it worked.  In the meantime, doing his best was just putting on a brave face and following his brother, even when staying in that bed would have been more comfortable, and easier.

Somehow, that felt right.  If Sebastian was right, and this worked, he should have to work for it.  It should hurt, it should be hard, and he should have to fight for it.  It made sense to him.  Of course, he knew that this probably wasn't going to work, but that was fine.  He'd been wanting to get out of that bed, anyway.

Fortunately, the hospital wasn't as far from Nero's lab at the college as Desiré had thought, though that didn't mean it was a short, happy walk.  It might have been easier if they'd have talked more through it, but walking with a crutch was enough work that Desiré didn't mind the silence so much.  By the time they were inside the college, getting even MORE strange looks, he was definitely ready to just be there and get this over with.

"Go on, I'm right behind you," he urged his brother, trying not to sound breathless or pained.  Almost there...

[Martine Liten]

It was better that Desiré hasn't told Sebastian that he had hit that tree on purpose for his brother.  That would have made it all worse.  He had hurt himself on purpose just to not hurt Sebastian.  How would that make him feel better?  Sure, then it was his fault that he had hit the tree, but it all went down to it being Sebastian's fault.  If Desiré thought that was going to be a problem, Sebastian blaming himself as he was, he was going to have to get over it.  That wouldn't stop the burning guilt that pained him everytime he closed his eyes.

Sebastian, though, was stronger than that.  Sure, it hurt, but he could mask it.  He could just stay silent and never tell anyone a damn thing.  It had worked in the past.

It didn't occur to him that maybe, just maybe, that was where his anger stemmed from.  Humans weren't made to bottle up emotions like that.

He didn't look back at his brother in fear of saying something stupid.  He felt terrible making his brother walk, although he had suggested a wheelchair first, and seeing him in pain like that would make it worse.  Because Sebastian was selfish.  He was a terrible person.

They walked into the college and Sebastian ignored the looks they were given.  He didn't care what other people thought and he never had.  That was why he said the things that he did.  Who gave a shit about other people's thoughts?  They didn't matter.

Desiré's reassurance was nice but unnecessary.  Sebastian would have gone anyway.  So walking down the hallway, he found Nero's laboratory and knocked.  He heard Nero tell him the door was open and nodded, clicking it open and holding it for Desiré.  It was then he looked at his brother, face entirely neutral.  His mask was back on.  Desiré, he noted, looked like hell.

This'd better work.

"Sebastian, welcome back!" Nero greeted, spinning in his chair to face the brothers, a lazy grin in place.  "You must be the brother," he then said as he looked to the older teenager on a crutch.  "Heard about your accident.  Sounds like it was nasty."  He rose, "Lucky for you, I have your solution.  Take a seat and relax, get off of that bad leg."

Sebastian stood back, watching Nero through a calculating gaze as the man walked to the back of the room to get a needle.  "How long should this take to work?"

Nero didn't look up from his preparations.  "Oh, he should notice a difference immediately.  The leg'll take about a week to heal properly, but it will."  He poured the vial into another container with the precision of a professional.  Then he smiled, capping the needle and holding it out for the brothers to see.  "Alright boys, let's fix some damaged goods."

"Wait," Sebastian snapped.

"Second thoughts?  You were all for it about two hours ago."

"I know," he breathed out.  "But you're absolutely sure this will work?  We can't have any maybes or probablys."

"Relax," Nero smiled, intense eyes sparkling.  "I know what I'm doing."

"With your regeneration water?"

"That's right," he agreed.  He walked back to the front of the room and around Desiré, standing in front of him with the needle in hand.  "So, what do you say?"  His eyes read 'you can trust me' but his smile was sharp, poisonous around the edges.

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably before he moved to be behind Nero, looking on anxiously.  This had to work.

[Desiré Alys]

Getting into that lab was simultaneously the best and worst part of the afternoon.  It meant Desiré could sit down and rest for a moment, but it also meant that he had to face Sebastian's miracle cure, which he still wasn't so sure about.  The witch doctor looked pleasant and normal enough, seemed trustworthy.  Sebastian trusted him enough to bring his brother here, so the guy had to be trustworthy, right?

Desiré had seen himself in the mirror that morning.  The accident didn't just sound bad, he made it look bad.  He hadn't been happy seeing what he looked like, since 'hell' about summed it up.

"A week?  You expect all this to heal in a week?  With 'regeneration water'?" he asked, not looking too convinced.  In fact, he was staring at that needle like he didn't trust it, which was exactly the issue.  "What's in that 'regeneration water' of yours that doctors don't know about?"

He had his questions and didn't mind asking them from the chair he'd promptly settled into, but the moment of truth was pretty much right there in his face.  Nero was standing there with the needle he claimed held the 'cure' for all of his hurts, and all Desiré had to do was say 'yes'.  Sebastian was looking on nervously, and it was him that his brother really focused on.  He'd promised he'd try it, despite his doubts and questions.  Realistically, was he really going to turn the scientist down, when his only other option was to lose his leg for certain?

No, he really wasn't.

Answers or no, he finally nodded, then looked away.  He didn't want to watch.

[Martine Liten]

"Yes," Nero answered, his glittering eyes narrowed in minor frustration.  "Yes I expect you to be healed in a week with my regeneration water."  But he was smiling again, pushing the syringe lightly so that the slightest bit of the clear liquid leaked out of the tip.  The substance was thicker than it looked, obviously sticky as it dripped slowly.

Sebastian's pupils tightened as he zeroed in on the liquid, but he didn't say anything at all.

That was for the best.

"I'm a geneticist, kid.  What I do and what the pharmaceutical types do are two completely different things."  His smile turned into a smirk as he leaned over Desiré, grabbing his arm in a tight grip to pull it towards himself in order to feel around for a vein.  "I'm more interested in the how and they're more interested in the why.  I focus on improving lives while they're more. . . showy.  They can't get right down to the nitty-gritty stuff like I can."  Then, without warning, he stuck the needle under Desiré's skin.  "Besides," he said in mild amusement.  "I don't need FDA approval to do what I do."

Sebastian rolled his tongue over his front teeth, stepping forward to lean over Nero while the older man pressed the liquid into Desiré.  "But you know what you're doing," he said for his own benefit.

"That's what I told you, right?" he asked as he turned back to look at him.  "This stuff is relatively safe."

"Relatively?" Sebastian snapped.

Nero pulled the needle out, stepping back and cocking his head a little at Sebastian.  "That's better than potent, isn't it?"

"That's not the point!"

"Look," Nero started slowly, but Sebastian didn't want to hear any of that.

"No, you look.  I swear to God, if anything fucking happens--"

"--Relax, would you?  There are side effects, but the fact of the matter is that your brother won't lose his leg.  I'm not ET, Sebastian.  I can't just touch his wound and make it disappear."

Face stony and eyes calculating, Sebastian shoved past Nero to look at Desiré.  "You alright?"

"He's fine."

"I wasn't asking you!" Sebastian barked before searching Desiré again.

"You're welcome," Nero responded darkly, rolling his eyes and tossing the syringe onto his desk.  "Flu-like symptoms are common side effects, as are heightened senses, quicker reflexes, extra strength. . . meowing. . ." He was just testing to see if they were listening.

"Meowing?"

Oh, so they were.  "Yeah, meowing."  He grinned a little, as if this was all a big inside joke that they just weren't in on.  "Give it a couple of hours.  You'll feel worse before you'll feel better, but when you feel better, it'll be an extreme difference.  You'll be a lot more durable than you were even before the accident.  And hell, maybe you'll even get some cool night vision."

[Desiré Alys]

Maybe Desiré should have refused, specially upon hearing that yes, Nero expected him to heal in a week with his regeneration water.  The stuff didn't look much like water when it oozed out of the top of the needle and slowly dripped down the side, but who was he to point that out? 

Wait.  Geneticist?  Nero was a geneticist?  What could a geneticist possibly do to help him?  If there was anything he could do, did Desiré really want it?  Oh well, too late.  While Dez was busy NOT looking and thinking this mess over, Nero had grabbed his arm, found a vein and pushed the needle in.  No FDA approval.

Well, wasn't that brilliant?

In reality, none of what Desiré was hearing was all that reassuring, except the simple phrase, 'your brother won't lose his leg'.  That was it.  The rest made him worry, but Sebastian looked worried enough for both of them.  That meant that Dez was going to hold back on that bit.  He'd worry about the fact that the stuff was 'relatively safe' later.  He'd also have to think it all over and decide if he thought any of those 'common side effects' were true.  Nero sounded like he meant it when he started off with 'flu-like symptoms' bit, but the rest?  And meowing?  What the hell?  Night-vision?  This guy was off his rocker.

Great, so he'd just been injected with corn syrup or something, and still had to get back to the hospital and hope that surgery worked out.  This was going to be fun.  Sebastian had tried, though.

"I'm fine.  Feel better already," he lied, for Sebastian's sake, of course, and he started pushing himself back to a standing position.  Actually, he was starting to feel worse, but he attributed that to exertion when his body was a mess.  "We better get back.  If mom shows up and the room is empty, she'll have a stroke.  Thanks."

The last was directed at Nero, for at least trying, but he wasn't thinking that it was going to do anything.  They would be better off not mentioning this to their parents, he was thinking, but he waited until they were out of Nero's lab and working their way back to the hospital to mention it.

"Hey, when they ask, I talked you into going for a walk with me, okay?  I'm blaming it on cabin fever," he told his brother, since it was doubtful they'd completely get away with it.  Considering how achy and miserable he was feeling, he was probably going to look half-dead by the time they got back, so Nurse Webb would probably give him an earful for being an idiot.  That'd be fine, so long as he could lay down again.  It was strange, though.  He hadn't noticed how cold it was outside until now.  He shivered a little as he gimped along, even though he remembered sweating on the way over.  It must have cooled off while they were talking to Nero.

[Martine Liten]

Nero didn't look much of anything aside from interested as Desiré stood up and hobbled towards the door.  This interest was far from kind though, no, it was much more like a butterfly collector as they inspected their latest specimen atop the point of a needle.  He was watching from the bottoms of his eyes, head tilted back slightly as he collapsed into his rolling chair, picking up a pen and smiling in mild amusement.

"Have fun at the hospital," he called.  "But if you let them take of your leg, you won't heal it.  It won't regrow itself."  And that was all he had to say about that, offering it as a warning.  Go through the surgery, he said, and you'll lose your leg indefinitely.  Wait it out and your leg will heal.

You'll see.

And Sebastian seemed to catch the undercurrent of what he meant, his bright blue eyes narrowing in a brief flash of curiosity.  He shot an inquisitive look back to Nero before following his brother out, his movements slow and careful as he tried to come up with something to say.  Something snarky, undoubtably, but something meaningful.

Nothing came.

Instead he frowned.  His brother was going to blame this on cabin fever?  Okay, sure, but that wouldn't explain any foreign substance in his bloodstream.  "Desiré," he started.  His jaw clenched a little and his nostrils flared, but he managed a simple, "This will work."  He meant the injection Nero had given him.  "Nero's a lot of things but a liar isn't one of them."  He tried to sound reasonable rather than his usual forcefulness.  He was walking on this subject carefully.

If this was anyone else. . .

"And if he says this will work. . . then it will."  And honestly, he didn't care if Desiré believed him or not.  That was what Sebastian believed and he was sticking by it.  Desiré could lie like he always did, pretend that everything was okay and that he was sure of himself even when he wasn't, but Sebastian wouldn't hear him anyway.  He stopped hearing his lies a while ago.  And that last one of I feel better already was unacceptable.

He wanted to tell his brother that.  He wanted to say, "Desiré, stop lying to me."  He knew it wouldn't stop his brother, but dammit, at least he would know that Sebastian didn't buy any of it.  And that he never did.  Like when he pretended that he wasn't sick when he was, or when he acted like he was happy when he wasn't--Sebastian saw those.

He just never said anything.  Sebastian ignored a lot.

[Desiré Alys]

Nero's warning was noted, but Desiré did nothing more than glance at him for it.  Just hearing about someone 'taking off his leg' was enough to make his stomach want to do a flip, which actually didn't seem all that unlikely right then.  He definitely wasn't feeling his best, even compared to the past two days.  Where had it come from all of a sudden?  Was it getting up after exerting himself and then resting?  Or was it from the injection.

The Injection.  That sounded so dramatic.

If Sebastian would have pointed out the fact that cabin fever wouldn't explain any foreign substances in his bloodstream, Desiré wouldn't have really had any argument for it.  All he was hoping was that he could hold off the surgery long enough to make it look like this stuff had the chance to work, then when it obviously didn't, he could face the music.  He still wasn't even sure what Nero had given him, so 'foreign substance' wasn't something he wanted to think about.  What if it made everything worse?

He really should have thought of that beforehand, he realized.  Sebastian was so certain that it'd work, but Desiré wasn't nearly as easily convinced.  Just because Nero wasn't a liar didn't mean that it'd work.  No FDA approval...  What if it wasn't safe?  Without FDA approval, that meant it was still experimental, didn't it?  That would mean that Nero couldn't really be positive that it'd work.  What had he tested it on?  Lab mice?  Was Dez the first human guinea pig on this one? 

If he'd known what it was, and what that meant, he'd have realized that lab mice wouldn't have been affected.

He thought over what to say, letting the thoughts run through his head as his brother walked and he hobbled, but nothing good came to mind.  Desiré didn't mind white lies like, 'I feel better' or 'It's going to be alright', but he wasn't going to say that he believed the geneticist.  He wouldn't lie on something like that, and he couldn't honestly say that he believed it.  "I trust you."

That was better.  He trusted Sebastian implicitly, despite everything Sebastian might think.  If Sebastian believed in Nero, that didn't mean Desiré did, but he could suspend his disbelief long enough to see, and nothing his brother thought would change any of that.  Time for a shot of truth, though.

"And actually, I lied.  I'm not feeling any better," he said breathlessly, feeling a little colder even than before.  Flu-like symptoms.  Nero had said it'd get worse before it gets better, and it'd start almost instantaneously.  If it was even possible, he'd paled further than he had before, which only had the grotesque effect of making the bruises and stitches on his face stand out even more harshly.  Lovely.  "I think it's starting to do something."

[Martine Liten]

"I trust you."

"But not Nero," he muttered in response.  Sebastian was quiet, barely above a whisper.  The likelihood of Desiré hearing him was slim to none, but that was okay because honestly, he hadn't meant to say that out loud.

Sebastian chewed on the inside of his lip when Desiré told him that he was feeling worse.  That was what Nero had said would happen.  He would feel worse before he felt better.  Sebastian almost wanted to point that out, say that Nero obviously hadn't been lying and maybe that meant it was working after all.  But instead he snorted a little puff of air, his eyes focused forward and into the distance rather than on his brother.

"He must not be full of shit then."  He stopped to glance at Desiré, noticing his lack of color.  Thankfully, the hospital was only moments away and Sebastian didn't have it in him to appear worried.  He was, but he didn't look it.  "Imagine that."  This last bit was said just as quietly as before, sarcastic and cold in irritation.

"What's it feel like?  The flu?"  This wasn't sarcastic at all but rather a curious question.  As they rounded on the hospital, Sebastian opted to take the standard glass door rather than the revolving door.  It would be easier for Desiré.  He then held the door open, not saying anything regarding the fact that he was being helpful nor offering any angry or otherwise snappy comment.  He only waited patiently for Desiré, the image of calm and collected.

Sebastian only had a few switches, it seemed.  Irritated, frustrated, angry, enraged, calm, serene and neutral.  He really didn't hit many of the other emotions, at least not visibly.  It was almost as if he had forgotten how.  But even as far back as he could remember, he had never been the most open individual.  And really, Desiré wasn't very open either, he just acted as if he was.

At least Desiré could pretend, though.

[Desiré Alys]

One had to wonder, considering that both boys had the habit of being rather closed about their emotions, what had caused it.  Certainly not their mother, who mourned the fact that her youngest son wouldn't talk to her about such things and thought her oldest son was happy as a lark, and there was the chance that it was their father, though not likely.  Their father wasn't exactly the most open of individuals, but he wasn't quite like they were.  At least, Dez didn't think so.  Maybe, but really, the most likely of candidates was their uncle.  Uncle Dirk, for as much as Desiré appeared to like him, was a pain in the ass, and he'd done just as much damage to the older boy as to the younger, just in drastically different ways.  Sebastian suffered because Dirk was trying to toughen him up, and Dirk disliked Sebastian for resisting.  Dirk liked Desiré because he hadn't resisted, because he'd always been the 'good little soldier' for his ex-military uncle.  He'd done what he was told, worked until he wanted to break sometimes, and whether Sebastian knew it or not, Dez had taken as much of Dirk's rougher treatment as he could to keep his brother from having to deal with it.  He knew how to handle their uncle better, and he could turn his train of thought to something unpleasantly difficult for him in an attempt to get his uncle's attention off of Sebastian.  It didn't always work, but he tried.

He didn't complain, and it helped him with sports, but Dirk really was an ass.  He'd been the one to enforce the refusal to show pain or bad emotions in Desiré, and he'd been the one who got the boy into telling those white lies about his situation.  Dez didn't get sick, because whenever he was asked, he wasn't.  If he admitted that he was hurt, it was because it was BAD, and again, that was Dirk.  Their Uncle had tormented the hell out of Sebastian, probably being the reason why the boy was as bitter and sarcastic as he was now, and Desiré had suffered in an entirely different manner.  He just put a smile on his face and pretended it wasn't so bad.  No wonder he did well in his drama class.

He wasn't up for pretending right then, though.  Fortunately, that 'enhanced sense' mumbo jumbo that Nero had mentioned hadn't kicked in, so he hadn't heard the less pleasant comments his brother made.  That was definitely for the better, since he didn't have the energy to argue or deal with it.  He'd have just internalized it in a way that would have made it even more painfully clear than it already was that they were brothers, and put a smile on his face.  As for the rest, he merely nodded, and agreed.  "Guess not."

It was true, and Dez himself had noticed.  Nero had said flu-like symptoms, and he wasn't sure that was exactly what it was, but it could have been.  It looked like he was right.  Explaining this to doctors and their parents was going to be difficult.  "I don't know, it could be.  I feel kind of cold, and I've got a hell of a headache building up.  I guess that's what it could be, but I haven't had a fever in a long time, so I really don't know."

He wasn't one of those kids that got the flu every year.  Poor Sebastian got sick more often than he did, which always made him feel bad.  "Thanks," he offered up when his brother held the door for him, appreciating it whether Sebastian wanted to mention that he was being helpful or not.  He didn't have to.  Desiré noticed it and appreciated it without having it pointed out.  Once inside, he tried to keep his face down, so that nobody would really get a good look at him.  If he was looking half as bad as he felt, he was going to be noticed eventually.  Getting back into bed and THEN being found would be much better.

[Martine Liten]

Dirk had dealt Desiré most of the physical damage.  He had pushed him and pushed him, instilled a belief system in his head and made him someone else.  He was tougher and he was a faker.  To Sebastian, he had given him most of the emotional damage.  He had torn through him, berated his every action, called him names and threatened him to high heaven.

Neither had gotten the worst of the damage.  It was fairly even and it had created basically the same problem--neither one of them could express themselves correctly.

Sebastian didn't acknowledge the words of gratitude his brother gave him, he never really did, and followed him carefully.  He was watching out for people who might have been a potential problem, people like the nurse, the doctor or their mother.  Seeing none of them, he made sure to keep his eyes alert as they stepped into the elevator and out again, down the hall and to Desiré's room.

No one was in there, but that didn't mean that it would stay that way.

Moving out of the way, Sebastian stood beside the bed, staying relatively close in case he was needed for whatever reason.  He didn't have to offer because he was sure Desiré knew that he was there to help.  And Desiré wasn't feeling well at all, so if he needed his help, Sebastian was sure he would ask.  And if he didn't, then his brother was more of an idiot than he ever gave him credit for.

He remained silent for a while before he finally asked, "Should I call the nurse?  Maybe you need some more medication.  You look like shit."

Well, at least he was honest.

[Desiré Alys]

Sebastian never really acknowledged it when Desiré thanked him for something, but they were both used to that by now.  Dez really just thought that Sebastian didn't know how to deal with it, so he didn't.  It just wasn't one of those things that they worried about, and life went on.  He could have just as easily thanked him again for the way his brother kept an eye out for trouble while they made their way back to Desiré's room, far too slowly for his tastes.  It was all his fault, too.  Sebastian only kept that pace because Dez was being slow, so if they got caught, it would be his own fault.  Best not to get caught, then.

Amazingly, they made it back to his room without incident, and Desiré suddenly found himself trying to get back into the bed.  That wasn't a problem until he tried lifting his very painful, casted leg in, but he managed without help.  If he'd have needed it for that one, he'd have taken it.  He was already messed up enough without being stubborn and refusing the assistance out of pride.  Even so, he didn't bother with the blanket or sheet, even though he was cold and trying to pretend he wasn't shivering.  He needed a moment to just recover, though. 

"Thanks, glad to hear I'm looking better," he offered, actually grinning at that one.  Sebastian's honesty was sometimes refreshing, and Dez didn't mind.  He knew it was true.  "Lemme get settled first.  Don't you think I've had all the medicine I need, though?"  Maybe they could get over with this one, since nobody had stopped them or come in to yell, yet.

[Martine Liten]

Sebastian made a move to assist Desiré up on the bed, but he stopped himself and chose to look on like a good little brother.  Desiré didn't ask for his help so Sebastian assumed he could do that on his own.  He didn't want to make it any more obvious to Desiré that his leg was absolutely totaled.

Desiré managed on his own anyway.

He did, however, grab the blankets and pull them out from underneath his brother, then covered him with them whether he liked it or not.  If he was having flu-like symptoms then Sebastian was positive that he would get a fever and start getting cold.  He didn't realize that Desiré was already starting with that, but he didn't have to see him shivering to know what it was like.  He remained silent, although he gave Desiré a stern sort of 'take care of yourself' look, and moved around the bed to take his usual seat on the left side.

One thing that never changed, even as the boys aged, was that they took care of each other.  Even when Sebastian was furious with Desiré for one reason or another, and even when Desiré was tired of dealing with Sebastian's attitude, they always looked out for one another.  And because Desiré was the one in the hospital bed, it was Sebastian who rose up and took the role of caregiver.  They were a lot closer than they sometimes acted.

"No," Sebastian answered.  "Not from my end, especially considering that now you're coming down with the flu.  When you get a fever, they're going to give you more anyway."  He then paused thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing at Desiré in a look that may have read hold on a second before he stood and put the back of his hand on his brother's forehead.  When he pulled it away, he frowned and rolled his eyes.  Desiré wasn't burning yet, but he was definitely hotter than he was supposed to be.  "You have a fever."

If this was really Nero's doing then. . .

. . .then he couldn't wait for the medicine to do what it was supposed to.