Try, Please Try For Me

Why So Blue?

But he is so, so tired.

He should sleep, his eyelids are heavy. And Geralt is holding him so he feels warm and safe. If only everything didn't hurt so much.

But Geralt is saying something to him, he has been for a while, though it sounds so far away.

He can close his eyes for a bit, can't he?

Slowly Geralt's words fade into silence and Jaskier is surrounded by darkness.

In the darkness the pain is dulled. Like it's somewhere far under his skin, still throbbing persistently, but tolerable.

The next thing he knows something bittersweet and sticky is against his lips, his jaw is forced open, and something is being poured into his mouth. And then there's a light coming from somewhere. It's so bright against his eyes, even though he shuts them as tight as he can. Then the pain comes back and everything hurts, but it's slowly being numbed by the cold feeling that spreads somewhere in his stomach.

He can't sleep like this, Jaskier thinks.

The sap needs time to take effect. There's no telling how long it will be.

Someone's talking. They sound close by, but Jaskier feels like his head has been shoved underwater.

The infection spread far. You brought him at just the right time.

There's a pause and then a second voice speaks.

Will he be alright?

That voice is different from the first, deeper, and rich, like honey. It sounds familiar.

He will live. But his magic will be suppressed for a while.

When will he wake up?

He will wake when he is ready.

Then the voices go away, and Jaskier is left surrounded by silence for a long time.

He's still tired, but that light in the corner won't go away. It keeps getting bigger.

At some point he hears the sound of birds. He hears the whistling of wind and the ruffling of leaves.

Then sometimes there's that familiar voice again.

Jaskier, I'm sorry I did this to you.

It sounds so sad. Jaskier doesn't want them to feel sad.

I broke the promise I made to you.

The voice makes Jaskier feel warm and safe. Warm and safe. Like Geralt. Geralt makes him feel warm and safe.

A hand grabs his, laces their fingers together and squeezes tightly.

Please wake up. Please come back to me.

Geralt. The voice is Geralt.

Jaskier opens his eyes.

Geralt is hovering over him, a look of concern etched on his face. All of a sudden Geralt's arms are around him and he's being pulled into a gentle embrace. "Jaskier," the witcher breathes, burying face in the crook of his neck. "You're awake."

Jaskier lets out a sharp hiss as pain laces up his side and Geralt quickly lowers him back down onto the bed he's lying on. "Ah, shit," Jaskier huffs, "why does everything hurt?"

"You were shot by a crossbow bolt," Geralt says.

Jaskier groans. "Right. Yeah, that. Feels like someone carved me up as if I were a banquet pheasant."