Forgotten childhood memories

The thing about work wasn't because she wanted to hear about it. On the contrary, she was still trying to process what she had heard that night. Looking down at her hands she hummed softly, "Little Cara," she said, closing her eyes as she was still upset about the image. "She used to ... Wear this little flower crown made of plastic and scrap," she said, smiling softly as she wanted to remember that Cara, not the sickly one with glowing eyes. "Her favorite color is blue, but she likes to say it's pink because the boys started teasing her for liking a boy color," it was clear there was so much to that little girl that Raven knew. She knew a lot of kids like that, and she knew all their names too. Knew what they liked, what they loved eating and how they reacted to scary stories. "One year her and Jane, my sister, panted a whole abandoned street in all sorts of chalk ... They were both inconsolable when it started to rain, washing it all away," she chuckled, shaking her head before the corners of her mouth turned downwards in a sad pout. Her lower lip quivered, but she refused to cry in front of Samuel like this. No, that was not something she was ever going to do, she told herself.
Turning her eyes back on the daemon she looked at him. Lifting her hand, she grabbed his wrist, holding it in place where he had been washing her down. "Why do you do it? They are just kids, all they want is just to live and be with the family they have made in the Blocks," she asked rather genuinely. She couldn't believe anyone to be so cruel. "And please don't give me some speech about necessary evil."

It was sort of what she had expected to hear, but she felt so disappointed. He was getting ready to leave, but she wouldn't have it, not yet. "I don't expect anyone to change their minds just from me telling sob stories," she confessed. No, she might not be very well educated, but she wasn't naïve. Telling stories could only do so much, and he was immortal, rich and a man who did as he pleased. Was there really anyone who could change a mind like his? "But this is the first time since talking to you that I haven't been surprised ... And that has sort of disappointed me," she confessed. He had been so impressive, knowing things about her, taking care of her. Doing all sorts of things that made her feel like maybe he had something redeemable about him. Maybe he was just on a twisted path. But no, it seemed as though he was exactly as expected now that he had said the things so simply.
"Tell me a better reason ... Tell me that you are trying to help these kids, I don't know: At least pretend to try and win me over instead of just being such a daemon." It was some harsh words. She reached out to grab the cloth herself, her hand shaking as she tried to wring out the excess water, but she just ended up placing the cloth on her forehead anyways. Her face rather red, her eyes gleaming still. "Or maybe you just want me to believe that you are the villain," she said, laying back down, her head spinning still, the cloth dripping water down on her pillow, but she didn't care. "I can't believe you can sit here and care for me and not at least consider why I'm so special compared to those other kids, - "If I hadn't done what I did to save your life, you wouldn't have cared about me right now."

Her eyes felt heavy, the fever taking over as she spoke, and he was right in leaving her be. She fell in to a deep sleep, her nightmares vivid as if she was reliving every bad thing that had ever happened to her. The servants came to check on her every hour or so. It was quite strange how attached they already felt to her, but perhaps it was because beneath her anger they had seen someone strong.
She slept for what seemed like a whole day, or well she woke up every once in a while, seeing people around her. The doctors said she wasn't getting better. That she would probably die from this infection. Raven couldn't even react as one of the servants lifted her from the bed. This was it, she thought, they were just going to dump her down in the Blocks, not wanting to waste any more on her. But before she knew it, she felt steam all around her. A warm bath had been drawn, a male servant sitting by her feet and rubbing them harshly. "We have to draw the fever away from her head," he had told some of the other servants, and they seemed to trust him. Raven gasped softly for air, feeling how soothing the damp room was to her torn lungs. "Just relax, those fancy doctors never know what they are talking about," the servant said with a small smile. For a second she imagined it was Victor. He had cared for her when she had been sick one time. It was the only time she had seen him crack, so scared of losing her.
The servant finished up massaging her legs and she was already feeling relief. "Tell Mr. Prideux that I'll handle this," the servant said. He was probably going to get punished for this, but he was human and he couldn't fathom anyone hadn't even done this yet. "And that I need some tea brewed on Elderflower ... The fever won't break without us helping," he said.

The servant didn't stop massaging Raven's legs even as Samuel entered. He had been with the Prideux for quite the few years, so he didn't fear getting punished. Even if he was going to. Raven whimpered as Samuel touched her forehead, looking at him with feverish heavy eyes. The male servant hummed, "I've seen this before, and she has been laying still for too long," he said with a worried frown, Raven gasping softly as her limbs felt so stiff and cold, "You're lucky she's a fighter. Most would've passed away by now." It was clear the male servant knew what he was talking about, and he clearly didn't fear the eyes that Samuel was giving him. He knew the daemon as cold and distant, but how he was with this human was almost weird, but he didn't say anything. "Samuel," Raven pleaded, her hand reaching out, trying to reach him, but her depth of perception wasn't good, so she just ended up grasping at the bathtub. Her knuckles white from how hard she was holding on, but she still felt so high on her fever.

The servant was rather surprised to see Samuel act like this. He couldn't recall when he had seen him like this, if ever. Raven felt his hand in her own, it somehow relaxed her and she couldn't tell why. Perhaps because she deep down had grown fond of him in some way? Though in her condition she excused it as just needing someone to be there for her. Everything was just such a fluid mess. She was assured that she could trust the servant, but she didn't trust him, though she trusted Samuel's judgement for whatever reason. The cold daemon asked if he could help and the servant nodded, showing him how to massage her legs and feet, and thereby driving the fever away from her head. "Call for a healer as well; She needs natural remedies," he told another servant, knowing Samuel wouldn't want him to leave just yet. He showed him how to massage her arms as well, anything to force the blood around her body and stiff limbs. "Keep doing that, I'll be back in a second," he promised hurrying out the door, leaving the two alone.
Raven groaned as her blood was being moved around, her eyes looking at Samuel. Why was he doing this? He had staff that could do this. "If I ... If I die ..." she muttered, having a hard time even finishing her own sentence, "I ... I want to be handed back to my family." Brock knew what she wanted done with her body, and she knew that Dove would need time to mourn. And Victor? She wasn't sure if he could comprehend her death, but he would need to see a body before he could find peace.

He sounded like he really believed it. She was starting to feel her toes, moving them carefully, groaning as they still felt so stiff. He kept massaging her arms and they felt tender to the touch, looking at him as he seemed to ask if he trusted her. A small soft scoff left her lips, "of course I don't," she said calmly, turning her eyes to look at the water she was in. She was dressed, but she still felt a little naked. Especially the way he was massaging her limbs. It felt almost intimate in a way she wasn't sure she liked. "But you want me to trust you," she said, looking at how his hands were moving her flesh around. "Is it because you are attracted to me?"

"I'm just trying to figure out why you are so adamant on keeping me alive," she replied, gasping softly for air as she got a small break. Her whole body was spinning a little, but she felt more clearheaded already. He spoke of how she had asked for him, and groaning softly she hummed as he started massaging her again. "But you were the one who started brushing your fingers on my forehead first," she argued. There was no way in hell she was giving him the satisfaction.
The servant returned, "it's good," he told Samuel, urging him to continue as he guided Raven to drink some concoction that smelled rather herbal. Raven drank it, coughing as it was scratching her throat, but it was clear it was already helping with the color in her face. "She needs to get dried off ... The healer is on their way, but it's going to be a rough night for her," he said making Raven grit her teeth, "don't talk about me like I can't hear you."

He spoke of caring for her, but how could she trust that he was capable of that? He didn't seem to care for those poor kids. She was being lifted out of the tub, her head resting against Samuel's chest as the servant brought over a towel. The servant was dismissed, giving his master a confused look before he headed out to prepare for the healer. "Getting possessive I see," she muttered under her breath as he dried her off. She could stand a little on her feet as he dried her off, but her clothes were soaking still. "I can undress myself," she argued, hoping he would get the hint and grab her something dry to wear, being sat down on the edge of the tub. She was gasping softly for air as she started out by pulling the shirt over her head, holding a towel up to cover herself. "What are you staring at?" she asked, frowning as she looked at Samuel if he hadn't left the bathroom yet.

He helped her in to the dry shirt and her whole body was shivering as she used his shoulders to stabilize herself, and yet she couldn't walk just yet. As he spoke she didn't even look at him. Was she hurt by his sudden coldness? Or what was going on with her? She found it hard to wrap it around her head. "When I'm healed I promise you'll never have to see me again," she replied. What she was starting to feel was attachment. And that was the last thing she needed from a guy like Samuel. No, she was better off sticking her arm in the mouth of a lion.
He helped her back in to the bed and she whimpered as her wound was hurting once more. Gasping softly she grabbed on to the linen beneath her, her knuckles turning white as she squeezed so tightly. The servant came in with the healer who had prepared a wrapping for Raven's leg. Tears running down her cheeks as the healer started working on her leg, I have to remove all of the impurities before I can safely wrap it," the healer said. The human cried, whimpering as the pain was indescribably, gasping for air as she started sweating again. "She needs to calm down ... The more she squirms the harder it is to remove all the impurity," the healer told Samuel. The servant offering to help, but it was up to Samuel.

Raven was taken in to Samuel's arms, her hands squeezing rather harshly around his arms as she cried from the pain, whimpering and groaning even if she wanted to scream. "Don't let go," she cried, her eyes looking at the daemon that was holding her. Never had she looked so much in pain. Clinging on to him, she didn't take her eyes off of him as the healer continued to extract the impurities. It took a while, and as the wrap was put on and secured her body fell limb in Samuel's arms, shivering from the pain. The healer inspected the wrap making her grit her teeth, panting as she was already gaining color back in her cheeks. It was slightly bitter sweet, wasn't it? With the wound now taken care of it wouldn't be long before she would heal. And then she would have to leave. "She should get something to eat and then sleep," the healer said to Samuel, looking to the servant who went off to make something to eat for her before he was ordered to it.
It was clear the whole staff was upset about what was going on. The human had somehow started making them like her, and that care seemed to grow the longer she stayed. The rumors about what Samuel had said. How when she was healed she would never return made an impact amongst the servants. One they kept silent, but they had all agreed on making sure the girl who had saved their master be as comfortable while she was here. The servant returned with the food, broth warm and with breadcrumbs in. If Samuel started to move, Raven would grab on to him in panic, her grip not as tight as when she had been hurting, but it was like she had meant what she had said.

The whole time he was holding her close it was the only thing that seemed to ground her. When the food arrived she was practically terrified of being left alone. And for whatever reason he stayed with her. Her hands a little shaky as she ate, but feeling him still holding her, his breath in her hair. It was familiar in a way, and yet so new at the same time. She had gotten about halfway with her bowl as she stopped. Her breath panting, and she was clearly getting drowsy. Lifting the bowl she placed it on the nightstand, leaning back against him. Neither of them said anything, at least not for a while. Was she stupid for wanting to just pretend for a little while? Pretend that he was a guy that cared for her, who didn't hurt others?
"I really can't understand you," she whispered, her eyes heavy and she closed them just to rest them. Not wanting to fall asleep just yet, and still his arms felt so safe. "But I can't understand myself either in this ... So I guess I'm just left with a whole lot of questions neither of us want to answer," she felt sad, her hands moving down, watching where she had ruined his shirt from grabbing on so hard. It was ironic, wasn't it? It had all started with a stained shirt and now she was sitting in his arms like he actually cared for her. But how could he? She was a no-one, a mortal who came from nothing. But worst of all he was not a good man, at least not what she had heard.

Maybe he was right. But in her head nothing was simple, everything was complicated to some degree. He grabbed her chin, softly she turned her face to his, looking at him with curious eyes. This. What was this even? And yet the reminder stung in a way she hadn't felt before. He looked at her like she was something special. Like she meant something to him and it confused her. "And yet I can see the wheels turning in your head," she whispered, looking at his almond shaped eyes, the stern look that seemed less stern the more he looked at her. "You're trying to find an excuse, maybe think of a way to make me heal slower so I stay here longer." Or at least that was her best guesses. He was still very much a mystery to her, but it was like she could understand his eyes. Everything about him was so stoic, but not his grey eyes. No, they had emotion in them, even if he tried to suppress them. "I remind you of someone ... But if it makes it any easier, then know I'm not that person," she said, quite convinced that the sooner he realized, the sooner he could let her go, right? The sooner she would stop falling for what she took as him caring for her.

Her. She concluded it was his wife that he spoke of, and she felt weird again. Even though she knew, it hurt a bit. And his follow up? She shook her head, "just go," she said, moving out of his arms albeit a little lazily like she was already too tired to move. She just couldn't pretend with him. Of course she couldn't mean anything to him. She could never be his and he could never be hers. She had gotten to a point where she couldn't move much and the healer had instructed her to rest.

The next time she woke up it was as if everything had cleared out. Her head felt normal, her limbs warm and the wrap on her leg had been changed. Moving to sit up she looked down, for the first time not feeling dizzy in such a long time. Removing the wrap, she saw the faint scar on her leg. She had healed. It was time to go. Getting up on her legs she still felt a little stiff, but besides that she felt rather normal. Great even. Moving over to the closet she picked out some clothes, feeling the fabric between her fingers she felt like she had never been so awake. Whatever the healer had done, she felt invigorated.