Give Me Envy, Give Me Malice, Give Me Your Attention

Andy was in shock.

Joe was freaking out, pacing circles over and over around the room.

Pete was gnawing his lip helplessly, trying not to break anything else.

Patrick was going insane with guilt.

Ryan was crying and praying that everything would be okay.

Anna was unconscious once again.

They had injected her about a week ago, and after she fainted her body seemed to go out of control. Her eyes had rolled back into her skull and she was frothing at the mouth, her limbs thrashing wildly for no reason and entirely of their own accord, seeing as she had been unconscious. It was a scene from a horror movie, just watching as the girl’s body pushed all boundaries and being completely unable to do anything about it. Thankfully, the terror scene only lasted for about ten minutes until Anna’s body just fell limp on the floor.

She had been out cold for a day, and when she woke up they almost wished she hadn’t. If it was at all possible, her skin was even whiter. Less than white; it was translucent. Her bright green eyes had changed to bloodshot and dark; almost black. Her lips were chapped and dry and barely varied in color from the rest of her sickly skin. Her hair was dead straight, unnaturally so, and was so thin and brittle, completing her breakable picture. Her skin wasn’t cold, the way it should be for a vampire. It was warming up, a thin sheen of sweat breaking on her forehead. She struggled to breathe. Every pump of vampiric blood through her thinning veins felt like custard or cream. She fought to stay awake, every second of consciousness pressing down on her brain like a ton of bricks. Not even Ryan’s loving kisses could distract her from this.

Was it possible for a vampire to be dying?

The answer is yes. Yes it damn well was.

Ryan stayed by her side consistently, every second of every hour of every day and every night. He could tell that it would be too much effort for her to speak. He knew it was too much effort for her to think; the pain was set clearly in the creases of her forehead. So he just told her to sleep, hoping that she didn’t have any nightmares to endure. Sleep seemed to be her only way out of this.

The others came in to check on her every now and then, but not Patrick. Patrick locked himself in his study, pounding his head to punish him for this. What on earth led him to think that that concoction would work? Now that he looked over it, everything that was happening now made perfect sense. But what the hell had made him so sure of such an obvious failure that he would inject his friend with a poison?

It was his fault. She couldn’t survive like this for too much longer. She was getting weaker by the day. In a month or so her brain would shut down completely. And he would be made her murderer.

“Patrick!” Pete slammed his fist repeatedly against the door to Patrick’s study, frustration in his actions and voice.

“What?” Patrick croaked, his voice hoarse from lack of use and the sobs he’d so willingly unleashed.

“Let me in. We need to talk.”

Patrick didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to talk. He already knew that the others should pin this on him; it was his fault, after all! He just wanted to postpone the blame for as long as he could.

“If you don’t let me in,” Pete threatened. “Then I’m going to break in of my own accord!”

Knowing that Pete fully intended on following through with his threat, Patrick still stayed where he was. He had no desire whatsoever to open the door and be reacquainted with his fatal mistake.

When Pete broke the door off its hinges, walked into the room and placed it behind him, he saw Patrick looking worse than he ever had. His strawberry blonde hair was sticking up in all different directions, dripping in sweat. His glasses and hat were both askew, his cheeks flushed and eyes red from crying. Patrick was sitting with his back against a wooden cupboard, knees tucked to his stomach and spine hunched over. His head was held hopelessly in his hands, and his arms shook as if the head they were supporting was made of lead.

“Oh Patrick…” he sighed, making his way over to his friend.

“I don’t know what to do, Pete,” Patrick managed, choking on his sobs.

“Pat…”

“No, listen to me!” Patrick’s wrecked face stared intently at Pete, his head snapping up and arms dropping into his lap. “This is my fault! It’s so obvious! That was a poison, nothing more, nothing less. Not even disguised as a cure. I have no idea in the world why I ever thought that it would help solve the problem. It doesn’t add up. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with y…”

“I said listen to me!” Patrick screamed hysterically. “Anna’s dying. My friend is dying. Our friend is dying. I poisoned her. I’ll become a murderer. I don’t deserve to have a life if she doesn’t have one. And don’t make any of your ridiculous cracks about how she’s a vampire and she doesn’t have one anyway, because I’m not in the mood to complicate my thoughts any more than they already are.”

Patrick finished, breathing heavily, and stressfully ran his fingers through his hair, spiking it up even more and making his look even madder. Pete crouched beside his friend and, without warning, slapped him sharply across the face. Patrick welcomed the pain, welcomed the first of his payment, hoping that he’d start bleeding. He waited for Pete to start yelling at him, blaming him, but it didn’t come.

“Snap out of it, man!” Pete bellowed.

Patrick looked up at him in shock. Now it was Pete’s turn to talk.

“Get a grip, Patrick, for God’s sake! Stop wallowing in your own self-pity and misery and do something about it! We’re not going to let her die. We’re going to work our asses off to save her. It’s not over yet!”

Patrick gulped as he looked up at Pete’s determined face. After a few moments, he nodded slowly.

“Yeah… okay…”

“Thank you,” Pete straightened up and adjusted his dark blue shirt before holding a hand out and helping Patrick to his feet. “Now, I’m going to go and call Beckett…” he shuddered slightly. “To tell him what’s been going on. I’ll get Joe and Andy to make sure that Anna’s friend Bella and her other friends at the Dandy mansion know what’s going on.”

Patrick nodded.

“And you,” Pete finished. “Are going to stay here and try to find a cure for this poison, okay?”

“Okay,” Patrick confirmed.

“Good. I’ll see you a bit later.”

Patrick waved a small goodbye to his friend before turning back to his desk, scattered with books and liquids in small vials. He took a seat and a deep breath, cleaning his glasses on his shirt. He read and wrote for god only knows how long, completely absorbed in his task.

He could do this. He had to.

“Patrick?”

He was abruptly startled by the sound of a voice behind him, and spun suddenly to see a tired and distraught looking Ryan Ross standing at the door. He was shocked. Ryan hadn’t spoken to anyone but Anna since… since it happened, let alone left her side for any purpose.

“Y-yeah?” he asked, slightly scared. Ryan probably hated him.

“Pete told me that you’re trying to save her,” Ryan said quietly.

Patrick couldn’t do anything but nod.

“Do you think you’ll be able to do it?”

Patrick bit his lip. Did he? He had the will, but did he have the skill? Was it even possible? Most human poisons had a cure. He would have thought that the same would go for vampire ones. And most poisons had cures. He hoped he could figure it out in time. But the thing is, they had no idea how much time they really had. Patrick estimated a month or so, but he could be wrong. What if he couldn’t do this? He cleared his throat. He needed to give Ryan an answer.

“I-I think so. I want to. I should be able to. I have to.”

But there was the possibility that he couldn’t. Ryan knew that. He didn’t need to voice it. Ryan nodded solemnly before turning around to go back to Anna, but Patrick’s voice made him pause.

“I’m sorry, Ryan. I’m so sorry.”

Ryan stroked the edge of the concrete wall gently, not looking back when he spoke.

“That’s okay, Patrick. You’re forgiven.”

He left without glancing back and after a few minutes Patrick got back to his work, trying not to dwell on whether or not he deserved forgiveness for this, and whether or not Ryan’s forgiveness was true.