Mimi's Demons

Chapter 93: A Gentle Fever Dream

Despite what Mimi expected of herself, she was sick for a long time.

If she didn't feel well enough to get up and read or do a bit of studying, she dreamed in spurts separated by brief moments of consciousness brought about by being soaked in sweat or unable to breathe. Demons flittered in and out, watching her, tittering, finding her sickness benign and hardly worth the taste, only to be chased back by dark wings. Sometimes, she'd dream of her mother, her features terribly vivid.

She missed her mom. She never wanted her mom to find her.

Sometimes, she'd wake up to a soft light and her Papa leaning over her, nudging her awake for medicine. He'd stay by her side until she fell back asleep, the circles beneath his eyes especially deep.

Once, she was with Juli. They sat and played, but she couldn't remember what they did. He whispered to her secrets that sounded like the chip bag rustle of stealy demon laughter.

But the time that stood out to her the most was in the deepest night, where she hardly slept at all because every part of her ached with the effort to clear her lungs. At one point her Papa took her out of her bed himself to urge her into a steamy bath with a towel over her head. It was the first time he'd ever bathed her and she tried not to think too much about it, which wasn't hard as she was nodding off as soon as the hot water wrapped around her. The doctor made an appearance, along with more dreadful medicine that didn't taste of grapes, even a shot, then it was just her and Papa.

But then she opened her eyes in the dark and Papa wasn't by her bedside. She hoped he'd finally gone back to bed. She was beginning to worry about the man. It was just a flu. What if someone took him out while he was all sleepy and stuff? Then it would be her fault that she didn't have a Papa anymore. Her first ever Papa. Her only Papa.

Her thoughts vanished as a dark figure shifted in the dark. A cool hand touched her forehead, thinner and cooler than her Papa's.

This wasn't her Papa.

And yet, somehow, she wasn't afraid. Maybe it was the gentle way they brushed back her sweaty hair and ran nails across her scalp. Or perhaps it was something more she couldn't understand.

"Go back to sleep," said a soft voice. A male voice. But definitely not Papa or Juli or Omen.

Mimi fought against her heavy eyes. She tried to ask who they were, but her throat just sort of gargled than gave up.

"There's nothing to fear," they said. "I'll keep the demons away. I'll keep you safe."

She didn't like demons. She'd had so many dreams of them and she was so, so tired. And she missed her mommy. She missed her stuffed lion. She missed her grandpa. She even missed her grouchy uncle who'd let her watch him play videogames but never let her play them herself.

And oh, she felt so awfully sick.

The not-Papa fingers wiped away her tears as though her cheeks had turned to tissue paper he could not tear.

Then the fingers dissapeared and her heart gave a jolt.

"Don't go," she managed to squeak. Suddenly the idea of being alone while feeling this horrible terrified her.

The dark figure hesitated, and for a brief moment she thought she saw a green glow around their face—around their eyes.

"It's okay, it's okay, don't be afraid," his voice had gone higher. He sounded scared.

She whined.

Then the fingers returned, brushing a bit more urgently, and she relaxed. She tried to sniff, failed, and nuzzled the hand. It felt so, so familiar and kind. And while she loved her Papa...

The next thing she knew, weight pinned her down in her blankets on one side as a body settled itself on the otherside of her. She could feel their arm draped over her middle and feel their warm breath puff across the top of her head.

"I won't leave," he said. "Just don't be afraid, okay? You're safe, and you're going to be okay. Being sick sucks, but it's only for a short time and then you'll be better than ever. Nothing's going to happen to you."

Mimi's eyes had already closed. Her wheezy breath settling on a stream through her sore throat and achy lungs that seemed accessible enough. Though her blankets were too thick to feel her visitor's body heat, she thought she could feel something just a little more drape over her, like another blanket...or a wing.

Like her Papa's wings that scared away all the demons come to watch her be miserable.

Soft, cool hair not her own fluttered down on her ear and temple. She felt his breath on her cheek. The arm over her middle gave a gentle squeeze through the blankets.

"I don't want you to be sick anymore," not-Papa whispered, small and sad.

Mimi didn't want to be either.

The sleep that followed was the deepest and longest she'd managed since the night before and devoid of dreams. When she woke up, her visitor was gone as though they were just a dream and Serena was there with her warm hands and warmer tea.

"How are you feeling, chit? You feel up to eating?"

And, for the first time in days, Mimi could actually say she could. Nothing much, but maybe something salty and light. And she had the strongest craving to rewatch some Voltron episodes.

"Could Juli watch them with me?" she asked in her scratchy voice. "I need to educate him."

Serena gave the closest she ever gave to a smile, making Mimi feel like she'd done something especially good.

"Of course. Though he might be coming down with what you have."

Mimi opened her mouth to say something snarky like how he deserved it, but she didn't. That would be just mean. She didn't want Juli to be sick.

At her hesitance, Serena's eyes crinkled with warmth.

"He'll be okay," she said. "Kids get sick. And he's not pushover." Her warm hand brushed back her hair and rubbed her cheek. "You're a good kid. So sweet."

Mimi blamed it on how sick she still felt that her eyes watered at that. Serena's praises were rare, but always spoken with the same kind of warmth as her tea.

So Mimi allowed herself to lean into the touch before it was pulled away.

"That's right," murmured Serena. "You're going to be alright. I'll be back soon with Juli and food. Here's your phone in case you want to text your dad."

She blinked down in a daze at the screen long after Serena had left, her mind a mess of fever dreams and a soft young man who'd touched her face like it was glass and hugged her to sleep.

Slowly, she began to type.

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Now it's my turn to culturally educate the boys...with "BEYBLADE!" :D 25 hours of driving gives me plenty of time to show the boys how to create a black hole and save the world with a top! Oh, and if he didn't know by now, we're in Alabama now. It's...well, it ain't the desert I'm use to, that's for sure. And you're probably not even all that interested about where I live anyway, you're here for entertainment.