Making Rafayel suffer again for today's @whumptober fic
Prompts Used: Symptomatic, Fancy Event, Resignation
Fandom: Love and Deepspace
Character: Rafayel
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Ariadne forgot that it was Ebb Day and Rafayel suffers more than usual at a gallery party.
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Drifting with the Tide
The gallery was packed, the party in full swing. I stood off to one side with Rafayel, both of us watching Thomas speak to the guests, showing off Rafayel’s newest pieces.
“Why do you never show off your own work?” I asked him.
“Don’t you think that’s tacky? Why would I have a manager if he didn’t do manger-y things for me?”
“I guess?”
“Besides, Thomas will come up with more marketable concepts,” Rafayel sighed. “It doesn’t matter if they aren’t accurate. Most people don’t care about the artist’s vision anyway. They can’t see beyond the composition and colors.”
“I’m sure some would appreciate it,” I coaxed. “Come on, why don’t you try it for tonight?”
“I already came here, didn’t I? Isn’t that enough for you?” Rafayel sipped at a glass of sparkling wine and tugged at his collar for the umpteenth time that night. “Ugh, isn’t it hot in here?”
“A little,” I said. But I was wearing a sleeveless dress and Rafayel was wearing a suit, so he would definitely be feeling it more.
Rafayel had been irritable all night, even for him. I knew he wasn’t happy to be here, but he didn’t have to be so grumpy.
I poked his cheek teasingly. “Cheer up, you only have to hang around for a couple more hours at least. Then Thomas will be off your back for a few weeks at least before he wants you to finish another project.”
“Oh good, a few weeks to myself,” he replied sarcastically.
I huffed a sigh, starting to feel a little annoyed at his attitude. “Why do you even come to these if you don’t like anything about them?”
He gave me a look. “I wouldn’t have come tonight if you hadn’t ordered me to.”
“What? I did that on Thomas’s behalf—”
“And he knows I can’t say no to you,” Rafayel muttered. “Today of all days too. You do play dirty.”
“What do you mean? You didn’t have to come if you really didn’t want to. You’ve skipped out before, plenty of times.”
He narrowed his eyes accusingly. “Did you miss the part where I said you ordered me to come?”
He loosened his tie and I caught a very brief glint of azure scales on his neck.
“Rafayel, you’re—”
I froze, suddenly remembering the first time I had seen his scales. It had been about this time last year. Did that mean…
“Rafayel,” I took his hand and found that it was clammy, my heart sinking. “Is this…um…because of Ebb Day?”
He gave me a baleful look and drank the rest of his wine. “Forgot?”
“Why didn’t you remind me?!” I demanded. “You should be home resting!”
“Yeah, I know,” Rafayel scoffed. “But you’re the one who ordered me to come, so I had to come.”
I opened my mouth, but remembered earlier when I had shown up at the studio to remind Rafayel that the gallery was that night. He’d refused as usual, saying he had better things to do, so I had put my hands on my hips and told him that he would come and he would stop complaining about it.
Thinking back, the look on his face had been a bit odd, and he had acquiesced rather easily for Rafayel.
I remembered last year when Rafayel had explained about Ebb Day, how he said that Lemurians were weaker, more suggestible, especially ones who held binding pacts with humans. I’d seen it in action before and it was indeed powerful. Well, at least in getting him to do anything but stop complaining, it seemed.
Still, I felt awful about forcing him to leave the house when he was sick.
“Rafayel, I’m sorry. I should have remembered.”
He shrugged, putting the wineglass down on the tray of a passing waiter. “Whatever. You’ll just owe me, I guess.” His face suddenly scrunched up as he staggered, leaning back against the wall rather heavily.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, grabbing his arm to steady him.
“That’s new,” he muttered, hand going to his thigh and rubbing gently.
“Raf?”
He pushed himself off the wall, still a little shaky. “I can’t breathe in here, I need some fresh air.”
He passed me, pushing his way through the crowd, ignoring anyone who called out to him as he made his way toward the back door.
Instead of following him, I decided to give him a couple minutes while I went to find Thomas.
The young gallery manager was currently in a discussion with a couple who seemed interested in one of Rafayel’s pieces.
“Of course, we can have it delivered tomorrow. Thank you so much.”
I stepped up to him as he was putting a sign up to indicate the painting had been bought. He glanced at me, sighing as he saw I was alone.
“Where did he run off to now?”
“Thomas, I need to take Rafayel home,” I told him. “He’s not feeling well.”
“Is he,” Thomas deadpanned. “What excuse did he use this time?”
“No excuse, he’s actually sick, Thomas.”
Sympathy washed the manager’s eyes. “He is? Well, in that case, make sure he rests. I trust you to look after him.”
I nodded and smiled at him in thanks before heading outside to find Rafayel.
He was sitting on a bench that sat on one side of the gallery in a small garden area. He was currently bent over his knees, head propped in one hand.
“Rafayel?” I called.
He looked up, straightening slightly, but I could see the discomfort clear in his eyes.
“I told Thomas I’m taking you home,” I said.
“Finally,” he muttered. “That place was too stuffy—too many people in there.”
He pushed himself up but wobbled and sat back down heavily.
“Are you okay?” I asked, reaching down to grab his arm.
“It’s…my legs. They really hurt,” he admitted, a furrow in his brow.
“Is that not normal?” I asked.
“No, at least it’s never happened to me before. But it’s like…really sharp pain shoots through them every once in a while.”
I offered him my hands so he could stand up. “Maybe a bath will help soothe you when we get home? I’ll ask for the next couple days off so I can take care of you.”
Rafayel leaned against me and I could feel the fever radiating from him. “I guess I’ll accept that as an apology.”
I got him to the car and took the keys from my bag. He leaned against the window, eyes closed. I pursed my lips in worry but made a silent promise that I would care for him and pamper him to make up for my mistake earlier. And for forgetting such an important event. I would make sure to mark it on my calendar next year.
Rafayel’s legs seemed stiffer by the time we got back; he could barely walk into the house and I had to put him on the couch instead of getting him up to his room.
“Do you normally have different symptoms when it comes to Ebb Day?” I asked him as I set up his bath.
“Sometimes it’s worse than others.” Rafayel admitted, unbuttoning his shirt halfway down his chest. I could see how much trouble he was having breathing so I got the water running as quickly as possible.
He groaned, raising and arm to place over his eyes and I bent to gently brush his hair back.
“The bath is ready. I’m gonna go grab a few things. You can get in whenever you want.”
He grunted and I made my way around the large house to collect all the things I would need to take care of Rafayel: thermometer, fever medicine, towels, bottles of water—I wasn’t really sure if any of this would do much, but I figured it was better to try.
By the time I got back, I was surprised to see Rafayel still sitting on the couch. He had stripped his shirt off, random patterns of scales showing across his ribs, making me do a doubletake, feeling my cheeks heat slightly. But it wasn’t time to get flustered, especially with the look of panic Rafayel shot me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I-I can’t move my legs,” he admitted.
“What do you mean? Are they hurting again, or—?”
“I mean they won’t move,” Rafayel snapped, shifting on the couch. “They’re just…aching. But I can’t make them move.”
I didn’t know what to do. “Maybe you need a hospital—”
“No!” Rafayel cut in instantly, eyes wide. “Do you have any idea what they would do to me? I’m not…human and I can’t even pass right now.”
“What about Talia? Could you talk to her?”
“I’m sure she’s going through her own issues right now,” Rafayel replied, jaw tightening with obvious pain and discomfort. “I just…need to get in the water. I can’t breathe enough to deal with this. Can I lean on you?”
“If you can’t move your legs, that’s not going to help,” I told him, walking over, eyeing Rafayel briefly before making my decision. I bent over. “Can you put your arms around my neck?”
He wrapped his arms around my neck loosely. “What are you…hey!”
As soon as his arms were around me, I slid my other arm under his knees and lifted. He was certainly heavier than he looked and I realized that Rafayel’s slim frame was all muscle. Still, I’d done a lot of training and after centering my weight I was able to steady us both.
“P-put me down! How dare you carry me like a princess?!” he demanded, covering his face with a hand, but I could still see how red his ears were.
I smirked a little as I moved over to the tub. “Stop complaining or I’ll just throw you over my shoulder next time.”
Rafayel’s face was blazing under the scales on his cheeks. “You’re too bold. I can see no one bothered to teach you manners. You think you’re one of those old sailors in the stories who would go looking for Lemurians on Ebb Day and steal them off to be their brides? I’m not like that, I bite back!”
“Oh, so you’re my Lemurian bride now?” I teased.
“That not what I meant! Stop bullying me!”
I ignored his indignant babbling and lowered him into the bathtub with a little difficulty, but managed not to drop him.
Rafayel settled back with a groan, reaching for his throat. I quickly grabbed a cloth and wet it, pressing it to his forehead.
“You think I need to steal you away?” I teased. “Aren’t you already bound to me?”
His throat bobbed and I felt my stomach flip a little, realizing the joke had fallen flat.
“Here, drink some water,” I coaxed, opening one of the bottles and handing it to him.
Rafayel grabbed it with shaky hands and drank thirstily.
“How are your legs?” I asked.
“Hurting,” he said. “It’s like, really bad, I don’t get it. Why does it always have to be something new?”
“Are they going to turn back into a tail?”
“What? No! I-I…don’t think so,” he amended.
“Can you even do that?” I asked. “I mean, I never see you change even when you’ve gone underwater, so…”
“You are just full of questions tonight,” he murmured, reaching up to rub his head, his other fist clenching on the side of the tub.
“I’m just trying to figure out how best to help you,” I told him sincerely, sitting down behind his head and making him lean back against a rolled towel before I massaged his temples.
He grunted, but seemed to relax from the motion, eyes fluttering shut.
“It seems to get worse every year I’m on land,” he admitted, reaching down to rub at his thighs, shifting uncomfortably. “I…sometimes wonder if some year I’ll be too weak to move or speak.”
“If you are, then I’ll be there,” I assured him softly, picking up the cloth and running the cool water over his neck and face. He nuzzled into it slightly with a small groan of relief.
“But you forgot what today was,” he said, not accusing but sounding more scared and lost.
I shifted so I could cup his chin, tilting his head back so he could look up at me. “I won’t forget again. I’ll mark it on my calendar every year and take the week off. I’ll make sure Thomas knows not to schedule anything during that time, and I’ll spend it taking care of you.
His eyes seemed to melt a little, but his face soon crumpled with pain, a whimper escaping his throat.
I pursed my lips. “Let me get you some pain medicine.”
I went to get up and he caught my wrist, doe eyes looking up at me. “Ari…”
“I’ll be right back,” I promised.
He reluctantly let me go and I headed upstairs to his room, grabbing pain pills, some comfortable clothes for him and quickly changing into some lounge clothes myself so I could get out of the uncomfortable dress.
As I was coming back down the stairs, I heard a large splash and the sounds indicating Rafayel was in pain. I hurried the rest of the way into his studio only to come to a halt when I saw him in the bath.
Rafayel was gripping the sides of the tub, while over the end, flopped a massive fishtail. It was gorgeous, the iridescent blue scales catching the dim studio lights.
“Rafayel, you…you do actually have a tail,” I managed to say stupidly.
He turned to give me a slightly baleful look. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”
I hurried over, kneeling beside him again, unable to stop catching glances at his tail. “Does it still hurt?”
“Not as much, but I don’t feel good,” Rafayel moaned, looking a little dizzy.
I reached out to stroke his damp hair back from his eyes. “What can I do, Rafayel?”
I was surprised when he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the tub. I let out a shriek. “Rafayel! What are you doing?”
I struggled, but he held me firm, looking up at me with eyes that held distrust and years of hurt, combating his current needs.
“What will you do now that you’ve seen me like this?” he asked, voice slightly hoarse, extremely vulnerable. “I’m no better than a beached whale. You could do anything to me right now.”
“Rafayel…”
“Will you sell me to the highest bidder? Or will you keep me for yourself; put me in a fishtank and make me entertain you?”
I took his chin and his breath hitched as I forced him to look at me.
“Rafayel, I know this is the fever talking, so calm down. You know I will never hurt you.”
His eyes welled, but he looked away before any tears fell. I leaned in to kiss his eyelids and felt him shudder.
“Tell me what you need,” I said more firmly.
A frustrated whine escaped his throat. “I just…need you to stay with me. Don’t leave me. Share your warmth with me.”
He pulled me closer to his chest so that I was laying on top of him, his tail shifting behind me.
I normally would protest, but despite the cool water, he was so warm I didn’t feel cold. It felt…right, like in some universe this hadn’t been the first time we’d laid like this.
“You really won’t take advantage of me while I’m like this?” he murmured, nuzzling my hair.
“Why do you keep asking me that?” I demanded, pulling back slightly.
“Because I can’t say no if you command me to do something,” he admitted. “And I’m afraid you…might make me do something to hurt you.”
“Then I won’t,” I promised. “I will only ask pleasantly, like this:” I cleared my throat. “Dear Rafayel, if you wish, may I kiss your forehead?”
He huffed, cheeks tinting a little, but nodded. “Yes, but that’s not really what I’m talking about…”
I kissed his forehead anyway and pulled back to meet his eyes, seeing them look distant before he took my hand and kissed my palm, pressing it to his cheek.
“Promise me that you won’t ever ask me to do something you know I would never do with my own hands,” he said suddenly.
I frowned, and realized this had never been about Rafayel pretending to be prudish after all. I felt an odd unease in my stomach as if I were forgetting something important. Something I should remember.
“Rafayel…?”
“Never mind, it’s not important,” he said quickly. “Just…promise me?”
I nodded firmly and took his hands in mine. “I promise.”
He seemed to relax slightly, eyes still a little distant and glassy with fever. I stroked his cheek, and decided to tease him a little again to make him feel better.
“So, it looks like I was lucky enough to catch a merman on Ebb Day after all. And quite a handsome one with a very fine tail—and beautiful scales.”
He flushed enormously, his scales becoming more prominent. “Stop saying stuff like that,” he mumbled, genuinely flustered.
I smiled, endeared. It was hard to actually fluster Rafayel since he was usually so cheeky, but he was more vulnerable right now. I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Perhaps I should get a nice big pool for my pretty fishie to swim around it.”
“You’ll be disappointed, I’m most likely to turn into just a man when you wake up tomorrow,” Rafayel replied blandly.
“Well, if that’s the case,” I said, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth, “I will make sure he gets put into bed and pampered until he feels better.”
Rafayel smirked a little. “Oh? So you really are sorry for forgetting.”
“Maybe,” I said as he pulled me closer, hands pressed against the small of my back. “Or maybe I just like taking care of you.”
Rafayel’s breath exhaled with some surprise, but he finally seemed to relax. “I suppose I can allow that then.”
I closed my eyes as I nestled on his chest, feeling Rafayel’s breathing even out as well. Whether I woke to a man or a Lemurian the next morning didn’t really matter—he would still be my Rafayel either way.
~~~~~~~
Tag list: @musicalcellojelly @scullysfraser @packer-chu @kestrelwings-blog @lumi-s-garlic @melpomenelamusa @delulu44uu (if anyone wants to be added or taken off the tag list, see link at top of post)
Summary: There’s no way you’re leaving him behind. Even if it means you die too.
The road stretched on for miles, empty and gray beneath a heavy sky. The world was too quiet now. Even the walkers seemed to have vanished into the trees. That should’ve been a comfort, but it wasn’t. Not when Daryl was burning up with fever in the back of a half-collapsed barn off the side of the highway.
Rick had called for a stop that morning when Daryl stumbled and nearly went down face-first in the dirt. The others had caught him and helped him to the shade, but it hadn’t taken long to see this wasn’t just exhaustion. His skin was hot to the touch, sweat beading at his temples, lips cracked and pale. The cough started soon after, deep and raw.
By nightfall, he couldn’t stand.
Rick paced outside the barn, hands on his hips, jaw tight. “If it’s somethin’ contagious like back at the prison, we can’t risk it spreadin’ through everyone.” He said quietly. “Not with—not with Carl and Judith.”
You stood beside the open doors, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “You wanna just leave him?”
Rick shook his head. “We’ll leave what water and food we can, but if it’s bad, we can’t—”
“I’m not leaving him.” You said before he could finish. The tone in your voice stopped him cold.
He looked at you for a long moment, something like sympathy flickering in his eyes. “You stay, you might get it too.”
“I don’t care.” Inside, Daryl shifted weakly on his bedroll, the motion drawing your eyes. “I get it, Rick. I do.” Dragging your eyes back to Rick, you lifted your chin slightly. “Do what you need to do to keep the kids safe. To keep everyone safe.” You turned to enter, calling back over your shoulder, “I’m staying.”
You knelt beside Daryl, brushing damp hair off his forehead. His skin was burning, his breath shallow. “Ain’t lookin’ too good, huh?” He rasped, voice barely a whisper.
“You’ll pull through.” You said softly.
“Don’t lie to me.” His cracked lips twisted into something that might’ve been a smile if it weren’t so tired. “Ya gotta go with ‘em. Ain’t no sense in both’a us dyin’ out here.”
You shook your head. “Not leaving you, Dixon.” Getting yourself a little more comfortable next to him, you cupped his cheek, patting it softly. “And neither of us are gonna die.”
He stared at you a long while, eyes glassy with fever but still carrying that stubborn fire. Finally, he huffed, too weak to argue more. “Hardheaded damn woman.”
The group left at dawn. Rick said he’d mark a trail ahead every few miles in case you caught up. You watched them disappear into the mist and then turned back to Daryl, your chest tightening.
For days, it was a blur of fever dreams and half-conscious mumbles. You kept him cool with what water you could spare for rags to lay across his skin. He couldn’t seem to swallow solid food, so you drained the liquid from cans of beans to spoon for him. It was likely wretched but he was too far gone to realize or comment. His fever spiked again and again. Each time, you thought it would break him.
At night, when he thrashed and called out for people long gone—Merle and his mother—you whispered to him, grounding him back in the present.
“I’m here, Daryl. I’m right here.”
You barricaded the barn door as best as you could and traveled as far as you dared in every direction to scavenge through old gas stations, risking walkers and worse for anything useful—medicine, canned peaches, even a half-empty bottle of rubbing alcohol that felt like a miracle.
One morning, after nearly a week, the fever finally broke. You woke to find him drenched in sweat but breathing steadily, color creeping back into his cheeks. When his eyes finally opened—clear and sharp again—you nearly cried.
He blinked up at you. “Ya look like hell.” He croaked.
You laughed wetly. “You should see yourself.”
He pushed himself up with a groan, staring at the makeshift camp you’d built inside that dilapidated barn. “Ya did all this?”
You shrugged. “Didn’t have much choice.”
He looked at you then—really looked—and there was something in his eyes that went deeper than words. “Told ya to leave me.”
“And I told you I wouldn’t.”
A week later, the two of you stumbled out onto the main road again, Daryl still pale but strong enough to walk beside you. The trail markers Rick had left led straight towards an old church where the group had set up camp.
When they saw you both coming up the road, Rick’s relief was written all over his face. Carol ran to you first, hugging you so tightly that you could barely breathe.
Daryl leaned against the railing by the steps, arms crossed and smirking faintly. “Ain’t dead yet.” He muttered.
Rick clapped his shoulder. “Guess you’re too damn stubborn.”
You looked at Daryl, smiling tiredly. “Told you neither of us were dying.”
He met your gaze, eyes softer than you’d ever seen. “Yeah.” He said quietly. “Reckon ya did.”
And as the sun dipped low over the ruined world, it felt—for just a moment—like you both might actually survive it.
“Hero!” Villain called as they made their way to the corner of the gala hall. The crimefighter turned, a strange-half smile appearing on their face as they saw who it was.
“Hey, Vil.”
“I haven’t seen you in, what, two weeks? I was starting to get worried,” Villain said, only partly joking as they gave Hero’s outfit a once-over. “This is much better than that stuffy uniform. You look amazing.”
“So do you,” Hero replied quietly, raising their hand to smooth their hair. As they did, Villain saw a flash of black at their wrist, mostly hidden by the fancy gloves Hero wore.
“That’s new,” they remarked, casually taking their hand and shifting Hero’s glove to uncover the mark. “I didn’t know you the Agency let you get tattoos, how come-”
Hero snatched their arm away, pulling the glove up as Villain froze, eyes wide. “It-it’s nothing,” Hero muttered, hiding their hands behind their back.
“No,” Villain breathed. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”
They couldn’t meet the criminal’s horrified gaze. “Don’t. Please, just don’t.”
“I’ll kill them,” Villain said, tone harsh and full of venom. “Hero, I am going to kill them for this.”
“You can’t. They’re too strong for any of us to fight. You know that.”
“I still have to-”
“You’ll die,” Hero whispered forcefully. “Please, for your own sake, leave it alone. I’ll be okay.”
“They branded you-”
“I don’t care. As long as they only hurt me, and not anyone else. That’s all that matters.” “You are what matters to me,” Villain said, voice breaking. They moved closer, cradling Hero’s face in their hands. “Hero. I’m begging you. Let me help you get away from them.”
“I can’t do that.” Hero’s words were gentle, but they sounded distant, as if they were already out of Villain’s reach. “This is how it has to be. It’s my choice. You have to accept it.”
Villain shook their head, tears pricking at their eyes. “I can’t lose you, Hero.”
“Oh, Vil.” Hero covered Villain’s hands with their own, squeezing lightly before pulling them down and taking off their glove. The black mark had only just begun to heal, puckered at the edges and surrounded by angry red. Villain thought that they would rather die than see that symbol on their skin for another second. Hero dropped the glove with an air of awful finality and turned away, towards the door. “You already have.”
