She put her thumb over the bead of blood, pressing, and made a noise of disgust. “I /hate/ needles.” She held out her arm to Vex. “Kiss it better?”
The Mesmer smiled sympathetically, completely understanding her issues with needles. He’d personally always hated them as well. Reaching out, he gently took her arm in his hand again, pressing a kiss to where the needle had been. “Poor baby,” he purred quietly.
“I am. I don’t know what I would do without you to rescue me,” Summer teased. “Helpless and fragile and oh so very … ” She paused, looking down at their linked arms. “So very much in love with you.” She shook her head, like chasing away a thought. “So. You need amusing?”
“Of course not. It’s not as though I’m going to drink the stuff.” Summer rubbed her fingers around the IV line, hating the way it felt in her arm. It made her feel vaguely nauseous, on top of the headache. Or maybe that was the headache. “You’re always welcome here, to anything of mine.”
Vex nodded at that, figuring that it made enough sense. Her next words came to a bit more surprise however; blinking in surprise, he gave a small, happy nod of understanding. Noticing that the IV had started to annoy her, he set his coffee down and moved closer to the couch, taking hold of her arm. “Sit still,” he instructed absently as he gently took the IV out of her arm, tossing the needle/IV into a small bio-hazard bucket that the doctor had left for this purpose. ”There.”
She put her thumb over the bead of blood, pressing, and made a noise of disgust. “I /hate/ needles.” She held out her arm to Vex. “Kiss it better?”
“You were just coming to see me, because you wanted to?” Summer bit her lips to hide the pleased smile. “Today’s plans were just house chores anyway; I was taking the trash out earlier.” She took in a deep breath, then laughed a little, ruefully. “Mine just isn’t a very busy life, Vex. You’re more than welcome to keep me company.”
The Mesmer gave an almost nervous nod of his head at her words, shrugging as if it didn’t matter despite the fact that it did. “Alright then,” he decided with a bit of a smile, stretching where he sat as he sipped at his coffee. “‘Ope ya don’t mind I used your coffee-maker,” he told her, referring to the little machine that she’d used when they’d first met. “Was out of coffee at my place. Needed the caffeine,” he added as an explanation.
“Of course not. It’s not as though I’m going to drink the stuff.” Summer rubbed her fingers around the IV line, hating the way it felt in her arm. It made her feel vaguely nauseous, on top of the headache. Or maybe that was the headache. “You’re always welcome here, to anything of mine.”
“Then it’s not someone from around here.” That seemed perfectly logical to her. “It might pass. We might wake up tomorrow and be fine.” She swung her foot and hit him in the side. “Stop that. When am I allowed to take this thing out?”
The Mesmer figured that it made enough sense that somebody from the outside would do this; the question was what their motive for doing it was. “I doubt it, but..it’s possible,” he agreed with a sigh. He jolted in surprise when she hit his side, but nonetheless, he stopped doing what he had been. “Fifteen minutes from now,” he said as he glanced at the nearby clock.
She flopped back against the cushions. “I hope you know what you’re doing with it, because I certainly done.” Gnawing on her lip, she tried to think about what kind of motive there would be for taking away the powers of all the Fae in an area, but another thought kept sneaking in.
“Vex?” Summer fumbled around for the right words. “Why are you here?”
“Yeah, it does. A hex? Yeah.” Summer blew out a matching sigh. “It would have to be almighty powerful, but if a hex could take one of you down, then properly amplified it could cover a huge area.” She rubbed at her forehead. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and bet that the reason I was knocked flat, and why I have such a /fucking/ headache, is that I was near ground zero when it went off.”
Vex nodded at that, a bit disoriented as he thought the situation over. “I s’ppose you’re right. But who around ‘ere is powerful enough to do that?” he asked with a frown of concern. “Nobody I know, not that would do it.” Letting out an annoyed mutter that didn’t really have words, he flopped onto the ground, starring up at her apartment’s ceiling. He put his hand up and flicked it with a frown, waiting for a spark, a jolt, something that showed that his power was still there…but there was nothing.
“Then it’s not someone from around here.” That seemed perfectly logical to her. “It might pass. We might wake up tomorrow and be fine.” She swung her foot and hit him in the side. “Stop that. When am I allowed to take this thing out?”
“Is there anyone who would know more?” Oh god, suicides. She didn’t want to deal with suicides. “You guys live a long time, right? There must be a historian, books, someone whose job it is to remember. What kind of things can take the power away from a Fae?”
Vex let out a heavy sigh as he shook his head. “Summer, I was around the last time this ‘appened, and even I barely made it out alive. There’s nobody that was there that still remembers ‘ow to fix it, because anybody who knew ended up dead first,” he explained with a frown on his face. He was slowly getting more anxious the longer he talked about it, the longer he remembered the lunacy. “Curses, ‘exes, disease, it’s ‘ard to say… But for somebody to get all the Fae in the area? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Yeah, it does. A hex? Yeah.” Summer blew out a matching sigh. “It would have to be almighty powerful, but if a hex could take one of you down, then properly amplified it could cover a huge area.” She rubbed at her forehead. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and bet that the reason I was knocked flat, and why I have such a /fucking/ headache, is that I was near ground zero when it went off.”
“Hey, hey, no.” Summer rubbed her thumb against his skin again. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. I’m going to need to know some things, though, so I need you to stay calm.” It was like a switch was flipped — there’s a problem, and someone can use her help. Her emotions, her needs, get shunted away, for later. What matters is the solution. “Do you know if anything like this has happened before?”
The Mesmer nodded at that, trying to focus on the situation at hand. “Right…” he mumbled, listening to her words. He thought about the question for a moment, trying to think of something more useful, but eventually sighed and said, “Not in the last century. And the last time this ‘appened, it led to mass-suicide in the Fae Community. After a while, it just sort of..disappeared; we still don’t know ‘ow it ‘appened.”
“Is there anyone who would know more?” Oh god, suicides. She didn’t want to deal with suicides. “You guys live a long time, right? There must be a historian, books, someone whose job it is to remember. What kind of things can take the power away from a Fae?”
Summer stilled. “That … doesn’t make sense,” she said softly. “I’m not Fae. My powers aren’t Fae.” She started to go on, and stopped. “I haven’t tried to use my magic, though. Just empathy. Just what’s genetically encoded.” She hesitated. What if it didn’t work?
The Mesmer nodded in response to her disbelief. “I know that, Summer, but that doesn’t explain why none of the Fae I know can use their powers,” he told her, gulping in worry. He got stressed when he couldn’t feed, and very quickly at that; it was what had led to his drug habit all those years ago. He shook his head, banishing the memories as he told her, “I guess that’s a point.. You’re free to try, Summer, but be careful—you’re not in perfect ‘ealth right now.”
“Hey, hey, no.” Summer rubbed her thumb against his skin again. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. I’m going to need to know some things, though, so I need you to stay calm.” It was like a switch was flipped — there’s a problem, and someone can use her help. Her emotions, her needs, get shunted away, for later. What matters is the solution. “Do you know if anything like this has happened before?”
The young soldiers head snapped up from his knees, startled by the sudden intrusion, quickly wiping his eyes – although he doubted it would matter. No one could tell the difference between water and tears. “N-nothing, why?”
“You are tearing yourself apart on the inside.” Summer speaks very quietly, because what she wants to do is get up and shake him until he sees sense. “I don’t want to have to come tearing in here one day because you decided it hurt too much to go on.” She sighs, and looks down at her hands. “Look, here’s the thing. I haven’t been there, but I don’t get to choose knowing about you being there. So I know what it’s like.”
Mordred doesn’t answer her, he dries his hair against the towel before even considering answering her. “And what makes you think it will come to that?” He asks, turning towards her, “I’ve done it for the last twenty one years, I can continue doing it.”
“It’s exactly that that makes me think it.” She rubs her hands together, fingers twisting and knotting around each other. “You can only carry so much. One day you’ll break. You think you have to be strong and alone and not tell anyone, that you’ll seem weak if you let anyone else see, but that’s not how it works. The hardest thing is letting someone in. I’m just saying, it doesn’t have to be me, but someone. Merlin. You love him, you trust him.”
“You’re not normally a worrier,” she pointed out. She rested a hand on his shoulder, absently admiring the length of his legs in leather, and rubbed her thumb against his throat. “Just because I can’t actually sense you lying doesn’t mean I don’t know when you’re doing it, or that I won’t call you on it. So just fess up.”
Alright, so Summer had a point there. He rarely actually worried, but now was an exception. He couldn’t feed, and he wasn’t the only one having this issue today. He sighed softly as she ran her thumb over his throat, voice a bit calmer as he admitted, “It’s just.. Well, you aren’t the only one without their powers. I can’t use mine either, and neither can any of the Fae I’ve called today. Something’s..wrong ‘ere.”
Summer stilled. “That … doesn’t make sense,” she said softly. “I’m not Fae. My powers aren’t Fae.” She started to go on, and stopped. “I haven’t tried to use my magic, though. Just empathy. Just what’s genetically encoded.” She hesitated. What if it didn’t work?