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For someone who said they were keeping their distance from Apo, Cleo sure seemed to find Apo a lot.
Apo has enough time for this realization to cross her mind right before she bumps into Cleo outside of the doctor’s house. Actually bumps.
“Ah,” Apo lets out, backing up. “Sorry. Didn’t see you.”
There’s a burning headache stemming from an emptiness in Apo’s stomach. No wonder she barreled into Cleo.
“Watch yourself,” Cleo intones.
“I said sorry.” When Cleo’s eyebrows furrow, Apo warbles, “Uh, going to see the doc?”
Thank god Cleo takes the change in topic. She crosses her arms. “Yes. Are you?”
“Just dropping off stuff.” Apo holds up the bundle of oxeye daisies that thankfully didn’t get jostled in the collision.
“What’s that for?” Cleo asks stonily.
“You can use them for healing. Like… poultices and stuff.” At Cleo’s continued stare, Apo adds, “We need stuff to fix the townsfolk up if there’s trouble. Why are you here?”
“I’m here to talk to the doc,” Cleo answers unhelpfully. “Like you should be doing.”
“I… am? Already?” Apo adjusts the flowers in her arms.
Cleo scoffs. “You know what I mean.”
A chill runs through Apo’s corpse of a body. “Uh.”
Why is Cleo talking about… that?
It’s bad enough that Apo was forced to reveal their status as a vampire to the doctor at the ruined tower the other day. Imagine talking about that to the guy! That whole thing never should’ve happened at all. They should all just forget about it and move on. But apparently Cleo already told the doc about her being a vampire, so she clearly saw no problem with it.
Then again, Cleo seemed to be a lot more familiar with vampires than she led on at first. While Apo was still reeling from the weird books about a hypothetical cure – that Apo doubts, but still – Cleo confessed out of nowhere that she came here to kill the “prime vampire,” whatever that meant.
So Cleo knew about vampires the whole time and just said nothing while those bloodsuckers lured random townsfolk into the woods and drank their blood and killed them and-
Ugh, that’s not fair. Apo tried to kill Scott, and it just ended in them becoming a vampire. They know from firsthand experience that killing a vampire isn’t easy. Maybe Cleo didn’t expect multiple vampires, and she probably wasn’t expecting to become one of them.
But then why did she plan on turning Legs before Apo protested? Why was she so willing to help the vampires turn the beacon? Cleo told Apo and Legs that she wanted to get the other vampires “on side,” but Apo isn’t sure what she really means by that. Is she just acting like she’s okay with the vampires? Or… is she acting like she’s okay with the humans?
Cleo is competent. She’s strong. But what’s her plan? Apo has no idea, and they can’t exactly ask. Cleo will just get mad.
Well, it’s looking like Cleo will get mad at Apo no matter what they say.
While Apo’s thinking, she apparently takes too long because Cleo huffs and raps on the doctor’s door.
“You need to talk to him,” Cleo mumbles.
“I don’t know how you can stand that,” Apo replies quietly.
That was supposed to be the last note before the doctor opened the door, but there’s nothing. From the inside, Apo can faintly hear someone moving inside. Doc’s definitely home. He usually opens his door really quick, probably in case of a medical emergency.
“Something’s wrong,” Apo states. She shifts the bundle to one arm and knocks herself.
More moving inside. A thump, then a curse.
Finally, Legs’s voice is close to the door.
“Who is it?” he asks. Even accounting for the muffle, his voice sounds weird.
“It’s Cleo,” answers Cleo. Then, separately, “And Apo.”
A beat before the door creaks open.
Legundo does not stand in the doorway. He hunches in the doorway, flushed and shaky. Missing the robes, he wears a clumsily buttoned shirt and his usual pants. His glass eye is out, leaving the left eye closed. The monocle is stained with droplets of sweat.
He’s as sick as a dog.
“You look like shit,” Apo says instantly.
“Thank-” Legundo can’t even get through the dry retort before he coughs viciously, throwing his head into the crook of his elbow.
Cleo takes a step back, then pulls the moved leg back forward.
Legs eventually finishes coughing and looks back up at Apo and Cleo miserably. “Sorry,” he whispers. Apo has never heard the doc whisper. “Just a little under the weather.”
“A little?” Apo questions flatly.
“I’m fine-” Legs coughs again once he raises his voice a smidge. His sweaty face tightens in annoyance.
“Doc, you have to let us inside,” Cleo says suddenly but quietly. “We shouldn’t linger.”
“I don’t want to get anyone sick, but you two…” The implication is obvious. Apo and Cleo can’t get sick anymore. “...Fine. You two can come in.”
The invitation settles into Apo’s bones, and she hates how it feels. A sentence shouldn’t do something so physical to her.
Leading them into the house, Legs leans on a desk, clearly trying to be subtle. It doesn’t work.
“We were drawing too much attention at the door,” Cleo explains shortly.
Right. Because vampires can be invisible now. As if there wasn’t already enough shit to deal with.
“Good thinking,” Doc says hoarsely. “What did you need?”
Apo presents the bundle. “Just dropping off flowers.”
“The flowers-” Legs violently clears his throat and glares at the floor. He whispers, “In the chest. Thank you, Apo.”
“Yeah, no big deal.” Apo deposits the flowers and wavers, not sure what to do with herself.
“I came to talk, but I don’t think you can now,” Cleo answers. There’s a weird sort of tension in their voice.
“I can-” Legs dives for the crook of his elbow again. “Sorry.”
Now that she’s inside, Apo takes stock of the stench of sickness in the air. Doc should get better if he rests, but…
“Why are you in day clothes?” Apo asks. “Are you not resting?”
With another look at the room, Apo takes a wild guess and assumes no. An inkwell lies on the ground, which must’ve been the thing that Doc knocked over before coming to the door. There’s an open book on the desk. Apo seriously doubts Doc would be able to focus on it like this.
“I’m taking it easy,” Legs assures feebly. “I’m a doctor. Trust me.”
Apo pushes herself forward and puts the back of her hand to Legs’s forehead. It’s scalding. When her hand makes contact, Legs gasps quietly.
“Actually, that might not measure anything now,” Apo theorizes. She’s dead. Her hand would be cold.
Oh, her hand is cold. Maybe that’s why Legs’s eyes flicker shut for a moment. But he pushes himself back awkwardly.
“Apo, I’m fine,” Legundo assures. His legs shake dangerously.
“Can you at least sit on the bed? You’re freaking me out,” Apo argues.
Legundo blinks slowly. His sigh is interrupted by a tender cough. “Fine.”
“What are you sick with?” Cleo asks while Doc – thank god – sits on his bed.
“Nothing serious. I’ll recover soon,” Doc promises.
“Yeah, if you bother to take care of yourself,” Apo mutters. Doc weakly glares at them.
“You’re sure?” Cleo asks Doc inflexibly.
Doc pauses. “I’ll be okay, Cleo. If I bother to take care of myself,” he echoes.
“Would the flowers help?” Apo asks.
At the suggestion, Legundo brightens. “Yes, there should be stew on the desk. If you wouldn’t mi-” A cough punishes him for daring to speak.
Cleo turns on their heel and retrieves a bowl of stew, rigidly handing it to Legundo. They keep their hands on the bowl, and Legundo huffs.
“I can drink it myself, Cleo,” Legs rasps.
“I don’t believe you,” Cleo retorts. “Your hands are shaking.”
With an eye roll, Legs allows Cleo to hold the bowl while he downs the stew. Once he’s finished, Cleo steps back and sets the bowl to the side, their eyes focused and strange.
“It helps with symptoms, but it takes longer than with physical injuries,” Legs explains, the ache in his throat obvious. “It helps to sleep through it.”
After a pause, Apo raises their shoulders listlessly. “So do that.”
“No, no,” Legs shakes his head. “I have work to do.”
“You can’t do your job like this,” Cleo argues.
“Don’t remind me,” Legs bemoans. “I can still-”
The following cough sounds so painful that Apo flinches.
“Doc, we can keep an eye out for you,” Apo offers. “I’m no doctor, but I have basic training. If anyone needs your help, I can do what I can.”
Cleo stands silently, hardly moving.
Legs looks between them lethargically. His teeth are chattering even as he holds his jaw tight. When his blink goes on for a little too long, he presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose.
“...Wake me in a half hour,” he instructs.
Nice.
When Legundo doesn’t move, Apo pushes him to lay down. Legundo coughs into his pillow while Apo raises the black blanket over him. He mumbles something, but Apo can’t make it out. He shouldn’t be talking so much, anyway.
Apo steps back and shudders. It’s so weird seeing Doc like this. And it’s worse, because he’s the town doctor. Probably the worst possible person to get sick. So Apo has to do what they can, because clearly he’s too stubborn to really let himself get better. The town needs Doc.
It’s with the wider view of the room that Apo notices Cleo standing to the side, watching Doc like a hawk. She hovers, and Apo realizes what’s so weird about her. She looks… uncertain. Apo’s never seen her like that.
“Are you okay?” Apo asks.
Immediately, Cleo looks away. “I’m fine.”
Apo glances from Cleo to Doc, then back to Cleo. Wasn’t Cleo always talking about the plague or something? Maybe this was uncomfortable for her. “It’s fine if you don’t want to hang around sick people. You can let the town know that he’s sick.”
“I’m staying,” Cleo informs at once.
“...Okay.”
Doc stirs with a bad cough. Unsure, Apo steps to the bedside and puts their hand on his forehead. Thankfully, he relaxes under them and doesn’t fully wake up.
Cleo hangs over Apo’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”
It doesn’t sound as pointed as usual. There’s more… confusion. Maybe Apo’s reading too much into it.
“He’s feverish, and my hand is cold. It’s supposed to help. My-” Apo cuts themself off. “Someone I know likes it when they’re sick.”
Cleo stares, obviously having caught the slip-up. “Explain. Your what?”
Apo hesitates. “Just… someone from home. My… My loved one. I had to leave them for mandatory military service.” It’s hard enough to confess that much about Cherri. It’s too soon after the crypt, after the chance to see them again was almost taken away.
That’s apparently enough for Cleo, because she hums distantly.
Now Apo’s curious. “What do you do when you get sick?”
“I don’t get sick,” Cleo answers.
“Ever?” Apo tilts her head.
“Neither of us will anymore,” Cleo reminds.
Apo doesn’t want to think about that. “Well, then you can cool him down too, can’t you?”
Dragging over a stool, Apo leaves the bedside open. She’s expecting Cleo to take over right away, since Cleo usually takes authority, but Cleo stalls. They glance down at their hands, but then tilt their head in Apo’s direction. With a narrow stance, Cleo takes the seat and slowly presses the back of their hand to Doc’s forehead.
In his sleep, Doc exhales and lifts a hand vaguely in the direction of Cleo’s arm. His fingers claw, but he seems too weak and unaware to really hold them.
“Yeah, like that,” Apo confirms. Something about Cleo seems really hesitant right now.
Cleo doesn’t take their eyes off Legs’s sleeping body, especially the outstretched hand. Their free fingers hold onto their knee. They aren’t breathing.
Eventually, they mumble, “You don’t tend to last long when you’re sick.”
Apo doesn’t like the way Cleo’s looking at Doc. Like he’s already dying.
Oh, god. If Cleo thinks Doc’s dying, will they go back to the original plan for him? Just to keep him kicking?
“He’s not dying,” Apo says quickly. “No one has to turn anybody.”
Doc is weirdly vulnerable. Anyone could turn him right now.
Anyone could drink from him right now.
Hunger burns. Apo feels sick and pushes it down. They won’t do it. They won’t.
The neck is open.
…Hey wait, why is there a bite mark there?
Cleo’s sharp laugh draws Apo’s attention back from the nonsensical bite mark. “What do you take me for? That’d be a pity turn. You don’t turn out of pity.”
It sounds so recited that Apo scrunches their face. “What is that, some kind of vampire rule?”
Cleo stops. Her head snaps to Apo. Incredulously, she confirms, “Yes?”
…Wait, seriously? Apo was kidding.
“There’s vampire rules?” Apo questions. “Like, actually? How do you know them? Is it because you’re here to kill the prime vampire?”
There’s a lot that Cleo’s not saying, and Apo’s kind of tired of it. Maybe if Apo knew what was going on with Cleo, they wouldn’t misunderstand each other so much!
“No one told-“ Cleo breaks off. “You said Scott turned you?”
Ugh, Apo doesn’t want to think about him. “Yeah?”
“Explain what happened. Because you should know the rules,” Cleo states as if it’s obvious.
Apo shuffles in place before she pulls herself up onto the desk. This is a chance she might not get again. She has to set the precedent of sharing information if she wants Cleo to be honest with her.
She starts, “Okay. Um… Owen went with me to the crypt, because the beacon got desecrated there. But I didn’t really know what that meant at the time. I just knew there was a… dark presence.” As weird as that sounds. God, Apo misses the time when she didn’t think vampires were real.
“And you followed that trail?” Cleo huffs.
Something ugly crawls under Apo’s flesh. “Yeah, Cleo. It’s my job to protect the town. If there was something sketchy happening, it’s my responsibility to stop it.”
“Mhm,” Cleo hums noncommittally.
Not sure what that’s supposed to mean, Apo keeps going, “Then they revealed themselves as vampires. Scott and Pyro drank from me.” They tug at their sleeve to show the bite marks on their wrist. “They were gonna kill me, so I made a deal that I’d bring them someone else tomorrow.”
“You didn’t have to offer anyone.”
“I didn’t! I was just buying time!” Apo protests. She flinches at her own volume, but she didn’t wake Doc.
Cleo doesn’t have to know how much Apo turned the deal over in her head. She never wanted to offer anyone else. Could she have? What if she didn’t decide to fight?
…No, she can’t think like that. Apo has to keep the town safe. When asked to die or find someone else, she chose the previously unknown third option. Even if Scott conned his way into making her pick the first option, in a way.
She’ll keep fighting no matter what.
Apo continues, “I went to kill Scott, but I didn’t know about the stakes. So I made another deal that he’d turn me instead of anyone else. All he really said to me was how I should feel stronger now. And I went to see him the next day to bargain the town’s safety for free meat, and he was just like oh I haven’t hurt anybody when my wrist still hurt thanks to him. So. Yeah, not exactly a mentor figure.”
“Hm.” Cleo turned back to Legs at some point during Apo’s account. “I should’ve known, with the way the other fledglings have been acting. No wonder you’ve been like this.”
Apo kneads the folds of their dress with their hands. “What do you mean by that?”
“Clueless,” Cleo clarifies. “No offense.”
“Yeah, none taken,” Apo replies dryly. Then, she deflates as she takes in Cleo’s lifeless hand on Legs’s forehead. “You got turned right after I made the deal. So… I’m sorry it didn’t work.”
Cleo doesn’t look back. “I don’t need your pity.”
Apo fights back a sigh. They’ll never get anywhere with Cleo.
“You’re supposed to be Scott’s responsibility,” Cleo shares eventually. “As his fledgling.”
“Ew, I’m not his responsibility,” Apo responds with a wrinkled nose. She’s a grown fucking woman. “Fuck that.”
“Well, he’s made it quite clear that he agrees, if he’s letting you run around like this,” Cleo says flippantly. “This is not how things are supposed to work with vampires.”
Apo swallows. “Right, because you know about them. Does that make it easier to be a vampire? If you already knew about them?”
Cleo closes their eyes for a moment. “I suspected this outcome.”
“You have a way of not really answering questions,” Apo grumbles, leaning back on the desk.
There’s an empty tension under Apo’s skin. God, they’re so hungry. They feel the need to get up and do something, so they stand up and mumble something about cleaning the clinic.
First order of business is opening up the windows. It helps a lot with the smell of illness, but it’s also an excuse for Apo to keep her mouth shut. If Cleo’s worried about other vampires listening in on town, they won’t risk anyone overhearing by talking openly. That way, Cleo won’t ask anything that will lead to Apo saying the wrong thing. She feels like she’s making a little progress with Cleo, so it’s best to not fuck that up from here on out.
Next is the spilled inkwell. Poor Legs will have to go get more ink, because now most of it is on a washcloth that needs to get cleaned. Apo only glances at the open book a little bit, but Doc’s handwriting is atrocious, so she doesn’t learn anything from such a quick glance.
It’s good that Apo starts picking things up, because she has easy access to Legs’s medical bag when a few townsfolk come to the door. Nothing serious. Martyn sprained his wrist. Drift cut herself on some sharp rocks. Pearl bruised her knee while wandering around.
That first time, Apo hesitates before leaving Cleo alone with Doc. Apo wants to believe that Cleo wouldn’t actually turn him while he’s incapacitated, since they said they wouldn’t, but… Cleo lied about not knowing vampires were real. Anything goes.
Still, Apo really has no choice but to trust Cleo and go help. She made a promise to Legs that she’d fill in for him. If Cleo really did intend on turning Legs, they probably wouldn’t with the windows open.
And Doc’s open neck is still too visible.
So… Apo plays doctor.
With each patient, Apo just has to let them know the doctor’s out of commission and lead them to a spot just outside the clinic to patch them up. At least it’s all stuff covered by her training.
When Apo fixes Martyn’s wrist, he banters with Apo all the while. It’s good to see that he’s doing okay. Apo doesn't want to remember the sight of him on the side of the river. Not moving.
Vaguely, Apo considers asking Cleo what a human taking in vampire blood could do to them other than heal, but Cleo probably wouldn’t tell them that right now. Maybe if Apo had Legs awake as a buffer. Now that there’s a source of vampire information that – hopefully – isn’t fully sided with the castle, Apo wants to know all they can. They owe that to the town.
The open cut on Drift distracts Apo, but they keep it together by the skin of their teeth. Drift recounts her mission to the Pale Oak while Apo helps her out, so they at least get some news on what the townsfolk have been up to. Drift and Abolish had been looking for books.
“Still no sign of the… you know what,” Drift remarks in an attempt to be clandestine. They’re close enough to the window that Cleo chastises her to be quiet.
The final patient needs less from Apo, but Pearl lingers to chat it up with Cleo through the window. Not loud enough to wake Doc up, at least. Pearl even keeps Apo in the conversation without Cleo looking like she’s going to explode from the chore of talking to Apo.
Cleo seems way more fine with Pearl than she does anyone else in town. Apo can’t even say it’s a roommate thing, because look at them and Pyro. Ugh.
Though, Cleo’s apparently way more okay with Doc than Apo thought. Close enough that Cleo risked telling him about her vampirism.
When Pearl waves goodbye, Cleo maybe looks slightly more at ease, which relaxes Apo in turn. They’re really tired of getting into fights.
By the time Apo’s back in the clinic, the doc is stirring. It’s kind of a shame, since the deeper sleep stopped him from coughing so painfully. At some point during the parade of patients, he properly grabbed onto Cleo’s arm to hold her hand closer. Now that he’s waking up, he dislodges from her and clears his definitely aching throat.
Even sick, Legs wakes with an urgency that Apo finds uncomfortably familiar. It’s hard to acknowledge that someone under her protection used to be a soldier, too.
Cleo doesn’t move from the stool while Legs gets his bearings. Apo stands to the side, hating the wave of hunger that crashes into her.
…That reminds her.
“Why do you have a bite mark?” Apo asks once Doc looks awake enough. “You’re not a vampire.”
Doc raises his eyebrows in surprise. Instead of answering, he coughs wetly and makes a cutting motion over his throat helplessly. Smart ass.
“You will explain that when you can,” Cleo promises, making it sound like a threat. Apo would feel bad if she didn’t agree that he really needs to share what the bite mark is all about. “You said the stew would help your symptoms.”
“It-” Doc has to break off and redirect the sentence into the crook of his elbow. He squares his shoulders in obvious frustration.
Apo retrieves the book and quill from the desk. There’s still a little bit of ink left.
Legs dips his head in gratitude. With slightly-trembling hands, he scrawls out something that Apo can just barely read. It’s not easy between the shaking and the already weird handwriting, but it’s fine.
Still takes time. Also, I said a half hour?
In clear annoyance, Legs gestures at the sun, far removed from the place it had been when he first conked out.
Cleo grins in victory. “I told you, Doc. You don’t tell me what to do.”
Apo doesn’t get the reference, so they focus on getting their canteen for Legs. Once given, Legs glares at Cleo without any real bite while he gratefully takes a swig of water with the expertise of a former soldier.
Handing the canteen back to Apo, he writes something else.
Thank you for the help.
Apo holds her arms. “I mean, you helped me, so…”
“You’re needed,” Cleo agrees vaguely.
I can handle it from here. I need to change.
Right, he looks totally soaked in sweat. Apo can get wanting to be alone after all this, so she looks to the door.
“Just let us know if you need anything. You can use a carrier raven or something,” Apo proposes. Doc’s stubborn. He’ll find a way to communicate if he manages to get over himself and ask for help. “And I’ll check on you in a bit.”
There’s a thumbs up from Doc.
Cleo lingers while Apo gets ready to leave, and Apo relents. If Apo doesn’t want Cleo to hate them, they have to give her an inch. Cleo wants to talk to Doc without Apo there, and Apo will let her.
Apo creaks the door open and spares a glance at the pair. “Bye, Doc. Bye, Cleo.”
Legs waves, and Cleo lowers their head in a way that might be acknowledgement, if Apo’s being generous. And she wants to be generous right now.
Well, Apo can still fill in for Doc. They already let the hurt townsfolk know that she could handle it, so maybe the rest of town can find her if they need her. She should set up in an easy to find spot, like the fountain.
…After she gets something to eat. Preferably raw meat, and not blood. She’s fucking starving.