Nocturnal

I sat in dead silence. A Cambion? No one had ever mentioned that.

It was Cameron's spiked voice that pulled me from the abyss. "You're serious?" in an angry impulse Cam tried to sit up—wincing.

My hands were quick pushing him down on bed, avoiding the un-healing wound. Damn, it was racking my nerves—the silence.

Cameron ignored my pressure, sitting up once again. "You never told us about them! And what do you mean I can't heal from this?" now the situation was registering. Raph was ticking us both off, standing there, crestfallen. "Fucking answer—" his words were cut by savage coughs.

"Cameron!" I cried rubbing his back, tilting his face to mine. The coughs settled into a quiet wheeze as Cam leaned his forehead on my shoulder.

"The more you move the quicker the poison will take effect." Raphael informed shortly, voice clipped. "I never mentioned Cambions because they haven't been sighted for years. We thought they were extinct."

"Obviously not... this pain's quite real." Cam muttered wryly.

Doing his best to look unaffected, Raph carried on, "Cambions are also known as the anti-Christ—" My brain imploded. Anti-Christ. Sweet potatoes... "When they are born, not only does the Fallen become human, but the human parent dies—their child consume their soul. Making them immortal."

"Like you?" I squeaked.

He nodded, "They age until a certain age, normally twenties or thirties, like us. Then their body remains unchanging." He pursed his lips. "When Nephilims were born, Fallens decided to... experiment. The Cambions have a venom inside their bodies, lethal to Nephilims—they were responsible for most wipe outs." That wasn't making me feel any better. Or Cam. "Once a Cambion bites a Nephilim... he has four to five hours. In the first stage, the poison spreads, merging with the blood, enabling Power from working properly."

Again with the silence, I thought grimly. Cameron's breath spread on my neck—making me shiver. My head pressed against his dark hair, mutely.

"What happens after that?" Cam wanted to know as much as I did.

Raph pushed his remarkable blond hair with a heart wrenching sigh.

"What happens..." he began quietly, voice coated with disgust. "Is that the poison will heat up beyond comparison and your organs will liquefy—little by little—and eventually you'll bleed out. And die."

Those words were bullets to the heart. Die. That word, that horrible word. No. Cameron couldn't die—I couldn't lose him. Not him, too. Mom, dad, Nigel... I'd just lost them—I didn't even have time to assimilate it. To grief... everything was so fresh.

"Okay... but if it's a poison there has to be an antidote—like a vaccine or something. Right?" I asked tasting my hopelessness. Cameron shifted uncomfortably, sinking his weight—I helped him laying down. "Well, is there or isn't?" all the gentleness was gone as I looked and spoke to the Archangel.

He blinked at me, surprised. Yeah, I have a backbone get over it.

"Yes," And just when my mind was about to fist-pump— "But there's a problem." This guy was really getting on my bad side, right about now. "To make an antidote we would need Cambion poison—I have no idea where to find another one."

"Then why the hell did you kill him!" I yelled enraged for both me and the guy laying on the bed—dying. Oh my God, Cameron was dying. No. "You knew Cam could only be cured by an antidote and... and that you needed Cambion venom to make it.. and you killed him?"

The Angel looked me squarely in the eye, eyes ablaze. I stood my ground feeling very volatile at the minute.

"Do you think I want him to die? I don't, but when a Cambion injects its poison it takes more than twelve hours to stock up again. I could've kept that one alive, sure, but by the time he had poison for me to extract Cameron would be dead."

My eyes burned. Twelve hours. Cameron had five at most. It would've been too late. My lips trembled—I smacked them. I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't. Maybe there was another way, maybe—

"Phillip..." he caught us both by surprise and when I glanced over my shoulder, Cameron was gazing at the ceiling. Expression unreadable. "I want to see my brother." He professed making it sound like a last request.

"I'll call him—"

Quickly, his eyes traded the ceiling for my gaze. "No—no. Don't... don't go." His gaze penetrated me—seared me. "Raph can take care of it. Stay, please." Cam swallowed.

I sunk beside him once more. All it took was the 'stay' he didn't need to beg me. I wanted to be with him. In fact, I never wanted to leave him which sounded wrong, but felt right.

"I'll get him..." Raphael muttered leaving us alone.

Alone. We truly were by ourselves this once. But now... now Cameron was on his deathbed and I didn't know what to do—what to say. He stayed still, watching me intently. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was memorizing each line of my face.

Tears fell freely, I was so scared—afraid of losing him. He didn't deserve this. It was my fault. I'd gone out looking for him, I'd been baited outside the limits—he was bitten because of me.

It was always because of me.

"Don't cry," he mussed softly, reaching with a shaky hand wiping a tear—I watched in fascination as he tasted it. "Don't cry for me, lovebird. I don't want to see you cry." Cam's hand fell on the mattress. Like he couldn't hold it up. "I don't deserve it."

I shook my head in total denial—why would he say that? His words came back to haunt me. I'm not a good person, Nina. There was so much self-loathing in his words.

There was a time where I would've agreed. But now... he wasn't a bad person—at all. He felt guilt, he was afraid of letting people too close and put up barriers, he loved his brother and... he saved me. Took care of Henry. And here he was, dying, thinking he was a horrible person who wasn't deserving of mourning.

Why did he think that?

Drying my tears, I reached for Cameron's hand—the one with no blood—and kissed his knuckles. Pushing back black strands, I marveled the relaxing effect my touch had on him.

"What you don't deserve is to die, Cam. You're such a drama major." I try to lighten the mood. He smirked subtly, eyes closed. "Phillip did say you were a drama-club member."

He let out a soft sigh, "Phillip's always saying things he shouldn't..." Cam's voice was quiet, velvety—tired. He pushed past his limits, though. "I'm sorry for everything... for hurting you—I'm sorry, you should know that."

My head tilted. Cameron's eyes were a starless midnight, the glint in his pupils duller than most days. I gasped, remembering the light leaving my own mother's eyes. I couldn't stand and see the same happen to this boy. This person, who, for some reason called me, allured me to the darkness and I... liked it.

"I know," I whispered in a broken tone. "I've forgiven you all that. It's not important anymore—it's over." His hand was starting to sweat, it didn't matter. I kept them together—they fit in utter perfection. "There's still hope... maybe there's another way—"

"Nina—don't." He exhaled covering up a hideous cough. Turning his head, Cameron flinched. "That sucker had a real nasty bite..." he said dryly.

Nice pun, I rolled my eyes. How could he joke? He was... dying. My whole blood was drunk with fright—I reached gently, pulling away the torn material. The bite was alive, red and around it, Cam's veins were dark—black. The blackness was on the move, though, up his neck and down the arm.

I got up only to have Cameron's long fingers curve on my wrist, "No... don't go, don't leave—I don't want to be... alone."

My golden irises twinkled with loving care. He was afraid. He didn't want to be alone.

"You're not. I won't leave, Cam." My finger pads brushed the layer of stubble—Cameron shivered at our contact. "I'm just going to get a towel..." his head turned, lips touching my fingers—Cam kissed the pads smoothly. Shaking me to my core.

Lifting feverish eyes, my prince of darkness gave a soft smile, "Okay."

In the bathroom, I grabbed a small washcloth and put it under running water. Wrinkling it, I brushed my tears with my shoulder. I couldn't lose him—but what could I do? Being in that room was so hard... but I wasn't going to leave him. It would be so much easier if Cameron was still the stab-worthy-jackass I'd met on the first day.

Wow. Had it really been that long?

The star necklace hung from the lovely chain, matching my eyes. Walking back inside, I helped Cam lean against the headboard—adding pillows to make him as comfortable as possible.

Comfortable to die. I chomped on my lip.

In the midst of wiping his forehead, I leaned my head on the good shoulder. Cam tilted his own towards mine, our cheeks touched. The appetizing cherry lips were looking paler than ever, and already the poison reached one side of his chin.

Where was Phillip?

"I had fun," he murmured. "Playing that song for you... that was fun." Ah, darn. He had to go and bring that up—my eyes were swimming. "And doing that project... you're really smart, almost as good as me—" at a certain point I had to block him out, grabbing hold of his arm, hiding in his chest.

It was impossible not to cry—

"What do you mean you can't heal him?" Phillip's furious tone boomed from downstairs. Finally. I knew Raphael said he had four, five hours, but when it came to saying good-bye, there was never enough time. "He's my brother—I can't lose my brother!"

Through closed eyes, I felt Cam dip his head, burying closer to me—he radiated loss. For Phillip. I clenched my teeth harder, keeping in sobs.

A blur later, Phillip was kneeling on bed and I lost my wits when I gazed at him. Phillip was... shaking—literally. I was afraid he'd fall apart like Humpty-Dumpty—his eyes were icy, chilling and decisive.

"I'm not going to let you die—"

"Little brother—"

"Shut up. I'm not letting you die, I can't, Cameron. I can't lose you—I can't." I pulled from Cam's side, feeling like an intruder. Phillip barely acknowledged me. I didn't blame him—this was his twin. Dying before his eyes. The only family he had left. "I'm going to find a way, there's still time. I promise," he made their foreheads touch, making me all over-emotional. "I'll get you a cure." There was so much pain, hope and determination lacing his words I dared to believe them.

Cameron chose to say nothing. Opting to let his brother retain faith; he was giving Phillip something to hold on to. Instead, he closed his eyes harboring the sibling love and comfort Phillip was pouring out. Cameron ruffled the sandy hair shortly—Phillip whined in shared suffering, ten times more agonizing then Henry's cries for me.

I shyly gazed at the floor. That gesture spoke higher than any words.

"Phillip—" I abruptly looked up.

Cameron's breathing was outpaced. Phillip never stopped heading out the room, pushing past Raphael—I hadn't even known he was standing there.

"I'll go after him." Raphael left after the younger twin.

***

Time lapsed together. My bones were extremely comfortable beside Cameron Leale. He'd been quiet, still. Our hands were twined, his head on my shoulder as we both leaned on the headboard—his exhales tickled my skin, they came further apart with each passing minute.

The nocturnal bliss of night granted a thrilling, welcome silence.

"...karma's a real..." he inhaled sharply. "—bitch."

Touching his head lovingly, I asked, "Why's that?" I was so glad to hear the melodic voice that made my heart skip beats. Each word could be the last.

The second faze hadn't started—yet. Anytime now, though. I couldn't imagine him bleeding out—I didn't want to. I refused it, but I'd stay until the very last second.

"...hmm..." he convulsed with chills. I rubbed my thumb over his palm. "You wait for... for something... all your life..." Cam whispered, eyes opening for the first time in stretched out hours—they were filled with innocence. "...you find it... and..."

I wiped the fine sheet of sweat dropping down his peaceful, pale face. He looked so haggard. I combed the raven locks in a painstaking motion.

"You find what you're looking for... but then you die..." his breath hitched and he jolted—Cam's lungs were being affected. "...think it's... it's... starting..."

The beginning of the end.

Something deeper than my heart stirred, called out for me, demanded I showed him how I wanted him to stay—how I was desperate to hold on to him.

"Cameron—" I shook my head fresh out of tears. "I don't want you to..." his eyelids continuously fluttered—he wanted to shut off before the real pain set in. Who could blame him? "I'm sorry." A lone tear rolled down, I let it. "I'm sorry for not..." my canine bit down, my head shook.

His eyes weren't pulling me in. There was no energy left. Screw the apologies, I thought setting forward. I cupped Cam's nape, holding him softly in place, my lips trembled brushing his cold ones—

"Oh my God!" I shrieked as a coughing fit assaulted him. "Cameron, it's okay, I'm here—it's alright." I watched all the blood he was throwing up, placing the white, soaked towel to his lips. "Shh, it's okay, I won't leave. I'm here." How could I think of kissing him now?

I just wanted it so much—to show him he wasn't bad. That he deserved love, that I... liked him. I more than liked him and he didn't know and... and he was going—

The door crashed on the wall making a dent. I jumped while Cameron didn't even notice.

"Phillip," I whispered. He ran up with something in his hand—what was it? A flask? "Phillip, what is that?" I asked on edge—he was tipping the orange content inside his brother's mouth.

"What he needs." He forced Cam's lips to part—shaking some awareness into his twin. "Drink up, Cameron—it's me, it's Phillip. Drink it, you need it." There was a slight gag-reflex but Phill shut his brother's lips, tipping the head back. "Swallow," I never heard him speak in such a... a Cameron-like-manner. "It's medicine, suck it up."

Cameron stopped fighting, gulping every last drop of dark orange liquid. When it was finished, Phillip dragged the torn fabric down—and sure enough, we saw skin pulling together, teeth marks slowly fading. What really changed were the bumpy veins, they were drench in dark, prominent liquid. They began changing, looking normal.

Was it... how was this possible? Who cared, a voice whispered, it's happening—he's healing! He's going to live!

I watched Phillip embrace his brother—Cam still flopped limply, exhausted, too much to even know what was happening. His eyes were half-closed, unresponsive.

"I love you, big brother..." I heard and couldn't help a teary-eyed smile.

Until I saw Phillip's wrist poking under his sweatshirt sleeve. Raw lines marred the underside—had he been cutting himself? I reached for his hand, drawing back the sleeve—

"Stop." he ripped away. I looked at him, stunned.

I watched him impassively laying down his brother, gingerly, and it looked like he was doing a big effort just to breathe in. The relief and pain I saw in his crystal eyes—no one should ever feel that way.

What had he done?

"Phillip…" I advanced towards him, and warily asked, "What did you do?" Raphael said there was only one cure—he'd seemed very sure. Speaking of which, where was he? Hadn't he been on Phillip-duty?

"I did what I had to do to save my brother." He thrust his fingers through the copper hair, pinning it. "I did what he'd do for me."

"What—" Phillip zoomed to me rendering me speechless. "Phillip…?" was all I managed.

His hands landed on both my shoulders, and he gazed intently inside my eyes. A wide-open road of emotions spilled. Phillip was at his most vulnerable here—him and Cameron had different coping methods, but once you got past them, they were very similar.

He looked broken. My heart kicked faster—what had he done?

"Take care of my brother. He really likes you, Nina, I know he does—he just… has issues. It's not his fault." Phill gulped a breath as I touched his cheek. "Don't… don't ask me again."

Before I could think of words, he was gone and my hand was cupping air.

Agitation clawed at my heart—my very soul. What was happening? God, my life was a mess. I couldn't focus on my loss—I couldn't say if that was bad or good—I couldn't focus on happiness over Cameron healing before my eyes, I couldn't concentrate on Phillip's miraculous save and then, his incredible dash.

He hadn't just left the room—he'd left—period. I tried calling his phone, it went to voice-mail.

I put my head between my knees. My life was spiraling and I couldn't keep up. My family was dead—gone. I would never see them again. I'd given up Henry. Cameron had nearly died and now… now Phillip was God-knows-where!

My parents… the ache of loss was back with a vengeance. With Cameron things didn't seem as horrible, he turned down my pain levels, distracted me from the bad, and showed me the good. But… he was still knocked out, and I was weeping like a little girl.

I wished my father had never come; wished that my mom was still alive to reassure it would be alright—hell. This was so, so shitty.

"…Nina…?" that voice… that delicious velvet cocooned me in a tingly web, shielding me from the bad—he was waking up. I sprinted for the bed, holding his face. "…am I dead…? 'Cause if I am… doesn't seem so bad."

Blushing a thousand shades of red, I leaned down on his chest—crying. I was so sick of it; I had no idea what was the reason anymore. My family, him, Phillip—no clue. He draped one arm around me, gluing me to his front.

"You're crying… so not heaven…" he murmured still a little out of it. "…Nina—" Cam sat brusquely, but kept a soft hold on me. Joints popped, he sighed with content.

Cameron was confused. He had questions—he never called me off, though. He gave me time, rubbing my shoulders, fondling my hair. He even whispered how sorry he was—for my family, I think.

"Nina," he said headstrong as I wiped the last vestiges of salty water. "How am I… not dead?"

Wasn't that a million dollar question? Another was where had Phillip gotten the cure?

I went around bed, looking for the glass flask. Cameron regarded it for a second. It meant nothing to him.

"Where did this come from?"

"Phillip," I mumbled shortly. "He… he showed just as you coughed blood and… and he shoved whatever was inside down your throat. Probably the antidote—I guess." Cameron went white as a ghost; I thought he was having a relapse. "You started getting better immediately."

Racking his hair with a scrunched expression, he muttered, "Yeah… I think… I think I remember that—someone—and there was a bitter taste, I wanted to throw it up…" I nodded, beaming. "That was Phill?"

"Yes," I confirmed sitting by him. "He burst into the room and gave you the cure." He even left a crack on the wall to prove it.

Cameron didn't allow himself a smile. He was all business as if he knew Phillip had done something stupid.

"Where is he?" I trailed after him—how was he walking so quickly? "Where's my brother, Nina?"

The urgency made me wince. How was I going to tell him… I didn't know? Not waiting for an answer, Cam pushed open his twin's bedroom. Grunting in pure irritability, he whirled to face me. Not a heart beat later, I found myself pushed up a wall.

Holy Mother… this was not the same sweet, gentle, Cameron—or the fragile, dying one.

"Where. Is. My. Brother." He wasn't touching me. His hands on either side of my head prevented me from escaping.

A turmoil loomed behind his glinting obsidian eyes. They were all-consuming once more.

"I don't know."

Jaw muscles jumping, he gritted his teeth backing off. He was so furious, worried and crazy.

"Okay… okay…" he inhaled deep breaths, calming himself. Running his hands through his hair several times, he looked up more controlled. "What about Raph? Any sign of him?" I shook my head. "Fuck," he sent a nearby vase at a wall—that had looked expensive. "Did he say anything to you?"

"Phillip…?" I asked timidly. I hated that I was backing down, I wanted to yell at him just as much, but I was so emotionally wiped. "He didn't say a thing." Except a cryptic message.

Cam grew more aggravated, "Fuck, fuck, fuck…" he muttered over and over—I'd never heard him curse like today.

Then, I remembered Phillip's cut wrists. To me it meant nothing. To Cameron? Who knew.

"His wrist—" Cam's head swiped in my direction, eyes sharp. "His wrist was cut—raw—the healing wasn't finished. He didn't want me touching it and… he told me not to ask what he'd done—again."

Black eyes shone like rare diamonds, like I'd given him gold—then, they fell in a pitfall of hurt and denial.

"Cut up…" he chewed his inferior lip. "No… he wouldn't be that stupid, would he?" I didn't think he was asking me—his head cocked and he held a finger for me to keep quiet. "Shit."

I wanted to stay up in the library. Going down to the cellar gave me the creeps—that door… since I touched it, I didn't want to go back. Cameron wasted no time racing down—great. I followed watching my footing.

I heard shuffling, like shackles, behind the bad-ass, steel, door. Cameron approached it taking the wheel, twisting it about four times 'till it opened. Inside, I didn't find Phillip. I found shackles, a room made completely out of steel, a chair resembling the ones at the dentist—only steel enforced. No windows. The lights were dim, enough to see.

I saw the chains were… golden and there were symbols on them. Ancient-like letters, I'd say. And Raphael had a pair of them on.

"You're alive." Somehow Raphael didn't seem too happy—

"Yeah, I've noticed and you're shackled. If you have any hopes of getting out of them, you better tell me what my little brother did." I didn't understand why Raph needed help getting those off, he was super-strong. "Nina says his wrist was cut—like he'd been cutting time after time."

"Come on, Cameron, you're smart. You know exactly what he did." Raph hissed pulling at the chains. "He knocked me out with Bloodroot ash—locked me up in here. I couldn't stop him." A what with what?

"No…" he took a step back, suddenly vulnerable-looking. "He wouldn't—he wouldn't."

Raphael tilted his head with a sad twist of lips, "Wouldn't he?" Cameron shook his head—I'd never seen him so afraid. What had Phillip done? "What would you have done, Cam? If the situations were reversed, would you have let your brother die?"

No. Of course, he wouldn't. He'd do anything for his twin.

"No," he ended up saying. "I wouldn't. I would go to them… I'd make a deal, in a heartbeat." A deal? Who were them? "But Phillip—" Cameron turned punching the steel—I gasped. The steel seemed to absorb it, nearly unaffected. A trickle of blood ran down before closing up.

"I… I don't understand—" I stammered and was met with rage—Cameron's eyes were crackling—no.

The air around us was. He was gathering up so much… a ticking time bomb. I could already hear the thunder rumbling.

"My brother made a deal, Nina. With a Fallen. They gave him a cure and in return…" Cameron trailed off, body shaking with unrelenting fever. "In return they got him." He couldn't mean what I thought he meant. No. Not Phillip, sweet, caring, smartass, Phillip. "It means my brother's been taken to Hell."

My world spiraled to a splat.