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"He's sick, Louis. Very very sick."
It's the tone. The somber tone that makes Louis' heart drop into his stomach. Fareed hasn't known Lestat for long, certainly not as long as he's known Louis, but the brat had wormed his way into Fareed's heart just like he did with everyone who was privileged enough to spend any length of time with him.
It takes Louis three tries before he can swallow the lump in his throat, and he cringes at how hoarse and fleeting his voice sounds when finally manages to speak.
"How bad?"
"I don't know. I've never seen anything like this in all my practice. His organs, Louis, his organs appear to be shutting down. I honestly don't know what is happening to him. The hallucinations, the vomiting, the dizziness, the heart palpitations, the coughing, the shortness of breath, the pain.....his body is very stressed. That's the only thing I can say definitively. He needs to slow down. He needs rest. He needs to properly feed. He needs to stop abusing the drugs and alcohol—"
"Is he gonna die?"
It's all Louis can manage without collapsing to the floor.
"Such a question," Fareed nervously chuckles. "We are immortal, Louis."
"And yet we can die."
Fareed purses his lips and looks to the floor. Behind the door to the bedroom, Louis hears Lestat's rough cough, and it takes every ounce of strength not to rush immediately back to his side, but Louis has to know what he's up against.
"Louis," Fareed finally sighs with a hesitant glance towards the bedroom, "I don't know. He could. I won't rule it out, because I don't know what is wrong with him. I've never seen anything like this and neither has Seth."
Louis feels the tears coming, but he blinks and looks away from Fareed with a hitching breath.
"He can't die."
His voice is barely more than a whisper.
"I assure you," Fareed moves to place a comforting hand on Louis' crossed arm, "I am doing everything in my power to find a diagnosis. I am doing everything in my power to help him."
Louis can only nod, no longer caring that a lone tear just slid down his cheek.
"I have him on an IV cocktail of pain medicine and vitamin infusions. I don't know if it will work, but the pain in his muscles and joints is terrible for him."
"Thank you," Louis whispers. "He could barely walk when I found him earlier."
"Yes," Fareed agrees. "I also put him on oxygen. His lungs are.....his body is stressed. The oxygen helps, and it will help with the cough."
Louis nods again.
"And Louis? The concerts need to stop for awhile. His heart can't take much more—"
"We've already had this argument," Louis tearfully smiles, "I won."
"Good." Fareed knowingly smiles.
He moves to the door of the hotel suite as Louis moves back to the bedroom door.
"One other thing," Fareed starts and Louis pauses with his hand on the knob, "the other vampires—"
"They won't touch him," Louis states, his voice suddenly ice cold steel. "I will destroy any one of them that dares try to hurt him again."
Fareed feels the shiver run down his spine, because it's the tone. The absolutely chilling, lethal tone that could cut a heart out, which is what the vampires had once tried to do to Lestat, and he still bore the scars from it.
Fareed nervously swallows under Louis' murderous gaze, reminding himself the infamous Louis du Lac wrath isn't aimed at him, but at any vampire who dared be dumb enough to try and harm Louis' Lestat.
"Anything else?" Louis cocks his head and clears his throat, realizing he's terrified the man, and Fareed shakes himself from the spellbound stupor before shaking his head at Louis.
"No. That'll about do it. Only.....be there for him, Louis. He's scared. I can feel it in him. He's scared he's dying, but he only wants you. His focus is you and wanting to ensure you are protected should something happen to him."
"I intend to. He's mine, Bhansali. He wasn't ever anyone else's," Louis says gruffly.
"Yes. Well, good-night, Mr. du Lac."
"So formal all of the sudden?" Louis chuckles. "I almost make you piss your pants, and I'm back to Mr. du Lac again?"
"It is a habit," Fareed warmly smiles. "When it comes to matters of the heart, you are Louis."
"You mean when it comes to Lestat, I am his Louis," he smirks at Fareed.
"Is Monsieur de Lioncourt not a matter of the heart?"
"Yeah," Louis soberly admits with a bite to his lip. "He is my heart."
Fareed nods before turning to make his exit.
"You should tell him that."
And with that, Fareed is gone, the unsaid lingering behind in the air like a heavy, stifling veil of grief and fear.
You should tell him that he's loved before he potentially dies.
Louis squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself against the door with a choked sob. He tries to gather himself before facing Lestat again, but Lestat's choking cough rattles Louis to the core, and he's rushing back to Lestat's bedside just as Lestat feebly calls out for him.
"Louis?" Lestat's voice is ragged, weak.
"I'm here, baby. I'm right here."
Louis tries not to think about how sick Lestat looks, how he's shivering under the blankets, how the tube of oxygen in his nose makes him look so frail, and how his face genuinely lights up when he sees Louis coming to take his cold, trembling hand that is now covered in bruises from his IV.
"Louis," Lestat rasps in reverence with a smile when Louis sits on the side of the bed, holding Lestat's hand and pressing a gentle kiss over his IV.
"Hey," Louis whispers to him, leaning down to kiss his forehead and cradle his face, "you doing okay?"
"I'm tired, Louis," Lestat whispers with slow, sluggish blinks, and Louis feels his gut about to explode with the fear of losing him.
He can't die. He can't.
"I know, sweetheart. You've been working too hard for too long. Carrying all this shit on your own, but I'm here, Lestat. You don't ever have to carry these burdens alone ever again. I'm here."
Lestat just gives him a wistful smile as his eyes fill with tears.
"Don't make promises you can't keep," Lestat slightly coughs again with a shaky little inhale.
"I mean it, baby. I'm not going anywhere. I can't—" Louis' voice breaks, "I can't bear the thought of existence without you by my side."
Lestat's breathing is harsh, labored. Louis can hear each wheezing breath between coughs. He smiles at Louis again, the tears fully coming now.
"Well, then I know the diagnosis wasn't good. I'm dying, aren't I?" Lestat smiles again, and the smile is so fragile it breaks Louis' heart.
"No," Louis assures him, moving more fully into the bed to hold Lestat around his shoulders, "you ain't dying. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, Lestat."
"Don't risk yourself for me, mon cher. I have to know you're safe. All of this—" Lestat breaks off with a hitching cough. "All of this is for you, Louis," Lestat continues with panting breaths. "I have to keep you safe."
He violently coughs then, his body curling up in pain as he struggles for breath in Louis' arms.
"Ssshhh," Louis soothes as he helps Lestat gingerly ease himself back into the pillows, "I know, baby. I know everything."
"But Louis," Lestat softly cries.
"I know, Lestat," Louis states firmly with a kiss to his lips. "We can talk about this later. Right now, you need to rest. Can you do that for me? Just try to rest."
Lestat nods with a whimper. He thickly swallows, his breathing rougher with the exertion from the coughing, and Louis takes the opportunity to stand up from the bed to kick off his shoes.
"Are you leaving?" Lestat asks in alarm, trying and failing to push himself up into a sitting position.
"I told you," Louis softly smiles, "I'm not going anywhere ever again."
Lestat looks at him in wonder as Louis comes to push his unruly blond hair back from his temples. It's still wet from where Louis washed the blood from it earlier, and the natural curls are framing Lestat's face like a golden halo. Even like this, so sick and so weak, Lestat still takes his breath away.
"May I join you?" Louis motions to the bed with a smirk and tilt of his head, and Lestat can only nod, his mouth hung open as he gazes up at Louis in pure worship and devotion.
Louis climbs in as unobtrusively as possible, not wanting to jostle Lestat, and Lestat attempts to feebly scoot over in the bed, but Louis is there, right on top of him before Lestat can muster the strength to make room.
"Are you cold?"
Lestat nods, his eyes lowering in shame. "I'm not running a fever. Bhansali doesn't know what it is."
"I'm gonna warm you up," Louis says, not wanting to acknowledge how small and scared Lestat sounds when talking about his illness.
To Lestat's utter delight, Louis spoons him. He curls his entire body protectively around Lestat, and Lestat is rolling over to his side, pressing his back into Louis' chest and snuggling further into his arms.
Louis' chin rests atop his head as Lestat burrows his head into Louis' neck and chest. He pulls his feet up to snuggle them between Louis' calves as Louis adjusts his oxygen tube and IV tube, and he smiles when he feels Louis chuckling and kissing his temple before bundling them up in the blankets.
"All right. You made your point. It is annoying having feet pushed between your legs."
"It's not annoying to me, mon cher. I love when you sleep with your feet between my legs. It reminds me that I'm able to keep you safe and warm."
The statement is so simple, so sincere, so full of pure love.
It's only when Louis chokes on a sob and Lestat moves in his arms that Louis realizes he's crying.
"Louis? What's wrong?"
Lestat sounds so worried, so alarmed. He's lying in a bed with an unknown illness that could kill him, yet Louis can hear the fierce protection in his voice. The love. The concern. The devotion. All is forgotten to Leatat, because his Louis is in distress.
He clutches Lestat closer, kissing all across his cheek with his heart exploding every time his lips make contact with the tubing of Lestat's oxygen. It's wrong. Lestat shouldn't have to suffer this on top of everything he's already suffered in his lifetime. Louis finally rests his cheek against Lestat's temple, and Lestat laces their arms together across his middle.
"I've got something to tell you, but I don't want you to think I'm saying it just because you're sick," Louis says gruffly.
"Okay," Lestat tentatively nods.
"I just.....I don't know.....how to begin," Louis takes a deep breath with another kiss to Lestat's temple.
"It's only me, Louis," Lestat gently whispers.
"I know. That's the point. It's you. My Lestat. My coal fire."
"Always."
It's so quiet, but Louis hears the reverence in his voice, the unwavering devotion, and the dam busts.
"I love you!" Louis cries, folding himself around Lestat and holding him so tightly that Lestat is taken aback from the shock of Louis' outburst.
"I love you, Lestat! I love you! I love you! I love you!"
He's hysterical, sobbing as he kisses all over Lestat's face against his chest.
"Louis," is all Lestat can manage, the bed beneath them feeling liquid all of the sudden as he allows the magnitude of what Louis is saying to wash over him.
He's loved. Louis loves him. The most important person in existence loves him. Lestat feels something shifting within him, his heart bursting with nothing but bleeding love for Louis. He can't speak. He can't think. He can't move. All he can do is softly cry in overwhelmed happiness as he basks in Louis worshipping him with kisses. He is now irrevocably changed, a different being altogether, because Louis loves him.
"I love you," Louis repeats again. He's moving positions then, gently turning Lestat onto his back, and Lestat lets him.
Suddenly Louis' lips are against his cheeks again, kissing away the silent tears that are trailing down Lestat's cheeks. He's pulling back the blankets, unbuttoning Lestat's pajama shirt, and Louis only semi-stops when Lestat chokes again, but Lestat shakes his head to assure Louis that he's okay. Louis brokenly smiles then and meets his lips with a tearful kiss.
He's moving down Lestat's neck, down his chest. The kisses are frantic now, Louis being so gentle yet so needful.
"These fucking scars," Louis sobs as he rests his head against Lestat's chest, against the huge scar from where they tried to take his heart.
He's kissing the scars then, and Lestat can barely choke out a featherlight "I love you" before Louis is on his mouth again.
"Thought they could take your heart," Louis sobs between breaths into the heat of Lestat's mouth, "thought I wouldn't slaughter them for daring to touch you."
"Yes," Lestat whimpers with a smile. "Foolish of them. They should know.....my heart is always with you."
Louis half sobs and half laughs as he kisses Lestat again. He goes back to Lestat's chest, kissing the scars with slow adoration. Lestat is holding Louis around his back, rubbing soothing circles into his shoulder blades as he allows himself to be treasured with his head thrown back and silent tears of amazement and love leaking down his face. Finally, after several long minutes of kissing the scars, Louis collapses against Lestat's chest, his body trembling from how hard he is still crying. He holds fast to Lestat, clutching himself closer and nuzzling his face into his chest.
"I love you," Louis whimpers, "I can't lose you. I can't live without you."
"Louis," Lestat's voice vibrates in his ear. "Listen to me, mon cher. Whatever happens, I need you to know that I love you. All my love belongs to you—"
"Don't!" Louis wails. He's moving from Lestat's chest to cling to Lestat harder, crawling up his body and pressing his face into Lestat's neck.
"Don't you dare tell me goodbye! I kept that letter, you know! I kept it and read it over and over! You thought you'd die protecting me in New Orleans. That's when you wrote it, right? When all the shit started with the vandals and the break-ins?"
"Yes," Lestat says quietly. "I wanted provisions made for you and her."
Louis' heart clenches when Lestat's voice breaks on "her." Their daughter. Their Claudia.
"I would've laid down my life getting you to safety, Louis, but I wanted you to be assured of my love. Nothing will ever make me stop loving you. Not even death and if that's my fate—"
"I told you to fucking hush," Louis softly cries. "You're not gonna die. You hear me? I won't let you die, Lestat. We'll figure this shit out together, because you can't leave me here alone. You hear? That's an order."
Lestat chuckles at that, running his hand through Louis' coiled hair.
"Will you say it again?" Lestat rasps.
"I love you."
Lestat takes a ragged breath with another sob of happiness, and he pulls Louis closer against his side.
"Well. I guess I have something to live for after all."
"Damn right," Louis finally pulls back to meet his eyes. He cradles Lestat's face, wiping the tears away with his thumb before leaning down to kiss Lestat's lips.
"I love you. You can't die on me now. You've got an eternity to hear me say those words."
"You're really not just saying them?" Lestat asks, sounding so timid and unsure that Louis hates himself anew for depriving this man of knowing he's loved beyond measure.
"It's not lip service, Lestat. Why do you think I could say it so easily to Armand but never you? It's cause it was never genuine with him. With you? Fuck, Lestat! I carried on an imaginary relationship with a dream of you for years after we left you in New Orleans! I just wanted to go home! I just wanted you back! I love you! I've always loved you, and I'm sorry it took me this long to be able to finally fucking tell you!"
"Oh, Louis," Lestat hitches out.
"I'll prove it to you. I'll spend eternity proving to you how loved you are, how you're the entire center of my being, how I'd die without you. So you've gotta get better, sweetheart."
Louis taps his thumb across Lestat's oxygen tube. "You've gotta get better for me."
"For you," Lestat whispers, "for you.....I'd do anything."
"I know," Louis softly smiles. He slumps forward to rest his forehead against Lestat's. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart when Lestat coughs again with a shiver.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have got so carried away. I made you cold again," Louis is moving then, buttoning up Lestat's shirt and covering them with the blankets before snuggling into Lestat's side, his head on his chest.
Lestat coughs a few more times, his arm coming around to hold Louis to him with a kiss to his head.
"Don't be sorry. I liked it," Lestat softly laughs. "Just.....let me sleep for a bit. We'll finish what we started after I sleep."
"We won't," Louis kisses his chest. "You're not exerting yourself for fucking. You're gonna stay in this bed and let me take care of you. The only thing we're doing when you wake up is feeding you."
"It's not fucking."
"Oh?" Louis raises up slightly to look at Lestat's face. "And just what would you say it is?"
"With you.....it's making love. Always with love....." Lestat slurs, sleep already overtaking him.
"Yeah," Louis rasps out after a long moment. He gently adjusts Lestat's oxygen tube before kissing his cheek. He lays back down to rest his head against Lestat's chest, feeling his labored breathing and his heart, albeit weak, beating a lullaby into Louis' ear.
"I love you, Lestat," Louis whispers as he allows himself to fall into a worried, fitful sleep. "Please don't leave me, baby. Please. I need you. I love you."