Fever

Esteban glanced at his watch again; Eli was late. It was already dark, and he was ready to leave the house.

Eli never oversleeps when we're going to get blood.

Esteban got up, went to the cellar door and switched on the light. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he was surprised to see Eli was still sound asleep. Oskar stirred and blinked in the electric light. Esteban waved at him, knelt down next to the mattress and whispered 'Eli.'

Oskar sat up and turned towards his girlfriend.

'Wake up, sleepyhead.'

Eli didn't stir. Oskar yawned, put a hand on Eli's shoulder and gently tried to shake him awake, with no effect. Esteban and Oskar exchanged glances.

Is this the hibernation? But Eli said he would tell us in advance if that was about to happen.

Esteban caressed Eli's cheek, then immediately felt his forehead.

High fever.

He thought of what his parents had done one time his sister, when she was a child, had had a high fever.

'Oskar, Eli has a really high temperature. Has this ever happened before? Do you know anything about it in Eli's case?'

'No, never,' answered Oskar, wide-eyed.

'We need to lower his body temperature to normal levels. Run upstairs and run a bath - the water has to be just barely not cold, not hot at all. Go!'

Oskar ran upstairs. Esteban picked up Eli, who stirred but did not awake. Esteban kissed the top of Eli's head.

Please don't die.

He carried Eli to the bathroom, where Oskar was filling the bathtub. They undressed him and placed him in the water. Esteban washed Eli's face with a sponge.

Eli stirred, half-opened his eyes and mumbled something incomprehensible. He sat up and started coughing, weakly at first, then with increasing violence. Esteban slapped him on the back, and was soon doing it so hard that Oskar squirmed, images of knives flooding his head.

Eli spat out a clot of blood, dyeing water red.

'Sorry...' he mumbled before closing his eyes and losing consciousness again.

***

Eli was lying on the mattress in the basement, and Esteban felt his forehead while Oskar watched in silence.

Warm, but not abnormally so. If his temperature starts rising again I'll get a bag of ice.

He put two fingers on Eli's jugular. His pulse was much too slow for a normal person, but perhaps not for Eli, and it was strong and stable.

'Is Eli going to be alright?'

'I think so. At least the fever seems to be over.'

If I only knew a doctor we could trust. But in any case there are no specialists in Eli's condition. Coughing up blood... tuberculosis? I don't think so. But what? What diseases do vampires catch?

'Oskar, if it's some kind of flu, I don't want you to catch it. I'll sleep on the couch, and you can sleep in my bed tonight.'

Oskar nodded almost imperceptibly.

'You haven't eaten.'

Esteban received no answer.

'Let's eat something.'

'I'm not hungry.'

'Neither am I, but you have to eat. You need to stay healthy, for your sake, for Eli's sake. Come on, let's make some sandwiches.'

They went to the kitchen and did so, and barely spoke while they ate.

***

Esteban could not sleep. Coughing blood can't be good, but if Eli has survived this long, he surely is very resistant to disease. Is it paranoia that I immediately thought of death? But fever can be deadly, and Eli must live. In spite of everything he is a child.

The reward of sin is death, and if we say we do not sin, there is no truth in us.

He couldn't remember where he had read that.

But Eli doesn't deserve death, not when he has had no real chance to truly live, even if he has been alive for centuries, even if he has done everything he's done. Many that die deserve to live, it's true, but still... And Oskar doesn't deserve this, he's given up everything he had to be with Eli. I myself - it's unnatural for the old to live while children die.

***

In the dark, Oskar turned the knob of the cellar door very slowly with his left hand. Then he quickly opened the door, so that it would creak as little as possible. He took the knob on the inside of the door with his right hand, stepped onto the staircase and then released the outside knob. He quickly pulled the door, stopping just before it slammed. He closed it and slowly turned the knob back to its original position. He switched on the light and went downstairs.

Oskar took a razor blade from the pencil case on the nearby shelf, sat next to Eli, and made a small cut on his wrist. He let the blood drip into Eli's half-open mouth.

A couple of drops fell on Eli's upper lip. They almost immediately vanished into the skin, leaving no stain. Oskar did not stir despite hearing the door open and footsteps on the stairs.

'Oskar, what are you doing?'

'Eli needs food.'

'Eli has been sleeping more than usual. You know he needs less food when he sleeps more, like in summer. And you body mass is roughly like his, so you can't feed him enough to make a real difference without harming yourself.'

Esteban a Band-Aid from Eli's kit and put it on Oskar's wrist, who did not resist and made no move to help.

'Look, I can't give Eli as much blood as I normally do more often and still have the strength to go to work and take care of you, but I'll give him a little now, OK?'

Oskar smiled. Esteban took a razor blade, cut his wrist like Oskar had done, and let the blood drip into Eli's mouth. As a drop fell on Eli's lower lip, he saw what Oskar had seen.

But I've seen blood on his lips before, when he drinks from me or from our victims.

'Oskar, did that happen with your blood, too? Eli's skin soaking it up?'

'Yes. Sorry for not telling you.'

'That's fine. But tell me next time if you notice anything strange.'

Esteban let a few more drops fall into Eli's mouth and then bandaged the cut.

'Can I stay with Eli?'

'If I say no, you'll wait until you think I'm asleep and come here anyway.'

Oskar nodded slowly.

'So I guess you can stay here, but promise you at least won't cut yourself again, OK?'

'OK.'

'And give me a shout if anything happens. You're not alone, you know.'

They wished each other good night and, once alone in the dark, Oskar, hugged Eli tightly as he lay next to him. Oskar then felt Eli's forehead as Esteban had done; it did not feel unusually warm. He then gently took Eli's head and kissed his cheek. He took Eli's hand in his, pressed his head against Eli's chest, and began sobbing quietly. He could not see that the tears falling on Eli's skin were absorbed like the blood had been. Eli did not stir, but two tears of blood, one from each eye, rolled down his face, breaking up into a myriad of drops, each breaking up in turn so that thousands of droplet rolled down Eli's face without wetting it, like mercury on glass, but they bruised his skin in their wake.