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At 12'o clock on a rainy, freezing night, Lemony Snicket found himself limping onto the porch of the Mallahan lighthouse. He was nursing a couple cracked ribs, and bruises were circling his throat. Lemony couldn't stop coughing, shoulders shaking as he leaned against the doorway. It felt like he had swallowed glass, remembered Stew's hand closing around his throat, remembered being shoved against the wall.
He didn't really remember what else had happened, he only felt the down again, up again nausea rolling through his stomach as Kellar Haines opened the door.
"Lemony!" Kellar caught him as he slumped forward, head spinning, and his surroundings faded into nothing. Cold fragments of things rushed by. Warm arms, soft voices, someone's hand against his cheek. Then the nothing dragged him down completely.
~~~
Everything ached, and he couldn't breathe when he woke up. He choked in a huge breath of air, stomach lurching dangerously as he propped himself up with one arm.
"Lemony, oh shit." He heard Kellar gasp, and he helped him lie back down. His vision cleared, and Kellar's face was hovering over him, dark eyes filled with relief.
"Are you okay? What happened?" Moxie rushed over, and he shook his head. Stars popped across his vision as he coughed harshly, sharp and wet. He tasted blood in the back of his throat and it made him gag. Kellar helped him sit up, rubbing his back gently and whispering soft things that Lemony couldn't quite register but were comforting anyways. He tilted Lemony's chin up gently and looked into his eyes.
"I need you to try and communicate what's wrong so we can try to fix it." Kellar told him softly, and Lemony nodded. He thought for a second, and gestured at his throat, then at his general left side, then his right. But strongly at his left. Kellar frowned at the bruises circling his throat.
"Did somebody try to asphyxiate you? This looks really bad, Setnick." Lemony made an embarrassing noise when Kellar's fingers ghosted feather-light over one of the bruises, his warm, soft hands both hurting and feeling incredibly good against his chilled skin. "Sorry. And your ribs are hurting too, right?" Moxie's eyes had a flicker of something for a second, and Lemony nodded. His left side had already been bruised before; it had only been exacerbated the second time around. His right side was painful too.
"Hey, Kellar, can you go get him some ice, please? Ice and a glass of water." She inquired, and he carefully slid away from Lemony. The second he was out of the room, Moxie looked straight into Lemony's eyes. "You have to get your binder off." She said softly, and he nodded. But how on earth was he going to do that? No one was going to even try and help him. He had layered a sports bra underneath it, so that covered that base. He couldn't stand right now, let alone get a binder off without Kellar noticing.
"I made him some tea, too, I figured it could help his throat a little." Kellar walked back in, toting a bag of ice wrapped in a towel, a steaming mug, and a glass of water. Lemony took the water first, almost dropping it as his fingers shook visibly. He took a cautious sip of water, and then another. It hurt to swallow, but the coolness of it felt nice as he did so. He finished it and set the empty glass down on the table. The mug was pushed into his hands, almost hot, steam curling in little puffs.
Lemony took a sip of the hot, (but not scalding) vaguely sweet liquid, and oh, that felt so incredibly good. The warmth of it soothed the feeling of shards of glass sticking in his trachea, leaving his insides pleasantly warm, and he made a soft little contented noise. The taste of blood was gone, and he was so glad for that.
"T-thank you." He croaked, and his voice was an absolutely horrendous, choked mess. Speaking hurt, very bad, and he shivered despite the warmth of the tea, letting out a choked cough. It felt like something was wrapped around his chest, squeezing all the air out of his lungs, and he almost laughed at the thought. Kellar sat back down beside Lemony.
"Where does it hurt the most?" He inquired gently, and Lemony gestured to his left side. Kellar carefully took the ice and pressed it there, and Lemony gave a soft sigh. The coolness of the ice pressed against his side dulled the pain of his ribs, and it just felt good.
Lemony didn't realize he was shivering until Moxie wrapped a thick, soft blanket around his shoulders, and then he couldn't stop.
"You need to get into dry clothes," She said softly. "You're shaking like a leaf, Lemony Snicket, and you're still absolutely soaked from the rain." It was true, he thought. His jacket was soaked through, and the rest of him wasn't much drier.
He nodded, and hadn't realized Kellar was gone until he came back, holding a dark, charcoal sweatshirt that was likely his.
"Here, think this'll fit." Lemony took it with a soft smile, and Kellar gently helped him to his feet. His vision blanked and suddenly Kellar's arms were firmly wrapped around his middle, holding him up. He had been careful to avoid his ribs, and Lemony was very grateful for that. Lemony looked up and met Kellar's eyes, blush dusting across his ashen, pale face.
He pulled himself out of the awkward embrace, and rushed for the bathroom, managing not to fall. Shutting the door, he sighed, kicking off his shoes and peeling off his disgustingly wet socks. He looked in the mirror. His tired, bruised face looked back, and he winced at just how awful the bruises around his throat looked, how painful.
Carefully but briskly, he unbuttoned his shirt and hung it on the door hook. He winced when he saw the stark, ugly bruises patterning his sides, mottling across his stomach. His fingers brushed his side cautiously, trying to probe and see if there's any broken ribs. It hurt, it hurt too bad for him to handle. Quietly he let out a soft, keening noise of pain. He crossed his arms and grabbed the bottom corners of his binder, and he pulled, hard. It came off and he breathed in, and found it a little easier.
Lemony slipped the sweatshirt over his head. It was warm, and soft, and it smelled a little like books and a little like cinnamon. He pushed open the door and stumbled to the couch, taking little sips of slightly cooled tea. It felt good on his throat, and he was still shivering. Kellar wrapped the blanket back around him, and Lemony took the ice, pressing it against where his side hurt the most.
He took another sip of tea and it made him cough, feeling like daggers were working their way down his throat. His shoulders were shaking still, and Lemony let Kellar close this time. Let him rub his back until the coughing subsided. Moxie had gotten ahold of part of the blanket too, reading a book that he recognized and enjoyed.
"Moxie?" He choked out, and wow, that hurt. Kellar gave him a gentle concerned look.
"Rest your vocal chords, Setnick. Take it easy." Moxie snorted.
"Moxie, you're leaning on my foot." He informed her, voice down to a cracked whisper. She laughed.
"Sorry, Snicket." Moxie moved her hand so she wasn't, and resumed reading her book.
"It's alright." Lemony smiled over at her, and launched into a coughing fit mere milliseconds after. Kellar patted his back, a look of concern on his face. When he was done coughing so hard he almost gagged, he laid back, head resting in Kellar's lap. He hummed something Lemony didn't recognize, running his fingers through his hair. That alone could put him to sleep, honestly.
Lemony pulled the blanket closer around him, shaking a little less, and adjusted his position a little, yawning exhaustedly. That hurt a bit, but not enough to make him any less tired.
"Moxie, could you get Setnick a pillow?" Kellar said quietly, and Lemony heard footsteps. Then a little time passed, and more footsteps, and he jolted into a more awake mindset.
"Come on, just move your head a little, Snicket. You want a pillow, right?" He made a tired, pained noise, and lifted his head slightly. With the pillow there it was much more comfortable. Lemony still felt freezing and weak, sick shivering rolling through him like the tide.
"Get him another blanket. I don't want him getting sick," Kellar's voice was gentle and hushed, and he laid a steadying hand on Lemony's back, like an anchor. Then he was rubbing gentle little circles, the warmth of his fingers a welcome contrast compared to how cold Lemony was. Another blanket, warm and thick and a little rough, was draped across his freezing, shaking form, and he pulled it close around him. He wasn't as freezing anymore, just achy, and so, so tired.
Lemony's eyes slid shut all the way, and he drifted into gentle oblivion.