(chapter twenty-four.) hey sweets
❝ YOU NEED TO STAY AWAKE. ❞
☂
POET AND KLAUS WERE LISTENING TO EACH OF THE SPIRITS, eager to hear what they had to say. They were currently listening to a man whose hands were bloody and didn't look like... hands.
"She chopped my hands off and let me bleed to death in the bathtub," the man said, causing Poet to wince in pain at the feeling and thought. Klaus just looked disgusted at the sight as well.
"He took me to a temple," a woman said but in a different language, her fingers pulling down the collar of her shirt where the two got to see her throat sliced open. Poet crinkled her nose, "slashed my throat, watched me bleed out."
Another woman came out, a pillow held in her hands. "She crept in my room, put a pillow over my face, and told me not to bother praying."
"That's terrible," Poet said in the same language the woman spoke. Klaus looked at her in surprise, wondering in how many other languages the Capulet could speak in.
"They attached jumper cables to my nipples and shocked me for hours," Klaus and Poet looked around to find the person talking, coming to find a man bleeding. Poet gulped.
"He pretended to have car trouble," the two looked away from the bleeding man holding jumper cables to the man that was currently speaking, "And when I stopped to help, he ran me over. Uh... forward, reverse. Then he saw my wife waiting for me in the car. She ran."
"Just shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up," Klaus repeatedly said. "Everybody, just... Everybody just shut up, please shut up. Jesus, you guys are worse than the drugs."
"How could they possibly know about Zoya Popova?" Poet heard the man say. She let out short pants, grunting in pain as the pain from the bullets now came and hit her in the face. She heard the woman answer, but the ringing in her ears made it hard to listen.
"Pull it together, now!"
"Swiss Alps, huh?" Klaus glanced at Poet, kicking her to keep her awake. The spirits stared at the girl and looked at the man, each of their empty eyes staring at him with sympathy.
Poet opened her eyes as soon as she felt herself being turned. She saw the two people standing in front of her and Klaus, staring at them with glares.
"Which one are you? Cha Cha or Hazel?" Klaus asked the man. Poet stared at them and tried to focus on their thoughts, but just as she was doing that, she felt herself slump more in her chair, ignoring the pieces of hair getting stuck in her sweat and the blood.
"Hazel."
"Jan Mueller," Poet panted out.
"Remember him?" Klaus continued. "Swiss Alps. Him and his wife were coming back from a ski trip."
Silence surrounded them and Poet noticed Hazel making a face while Cha Cha looked at her partner.
"I remember. Forward. Reverse!" Cha Cha answered. Poet looked at Klaus who smiled a bright smile. She shook her head, a smile on her own lips.
"Yeah, that's it!" Klaus said. "Yeah! And his wife... escaped down an alleyway. He says to say thank you."
"What's he talking about?"
"I don't know."
"He was so grateful to you," Poet spoke. "Hazel, for having sparred his wife. You know, there may be hope for him yet. Don't you think?"
"Bathroom," Cha Cha said sternly. "Now."
As they walked away, Klaus and Poet looked at each other, sighing. Poet turned her her gaze from him to her lap and Klaus still looked at her, worried for her. He didn't want her to die. He didn't. She was too helpful and she seemed to be the only person that cared for him and understood him. He also didn't want Diego to get all sad. He may say that he doesn't care but, hell all siblings knew him.
"Nicely done," Ben said, with a smile.
"Thank you."
"Shut up, Ben," Poet groaned out. "I'm saying it in the nicest way possible."
"Jan says you're a real mensch, Hazel," Klaus said after the two. The Capulet heard footsteps and she looked up to find Cha Chas heading towards the two. "He said you were such a great... No. No! No!"
Covering his mouth in tape, Poet sighed, waiting for Cha Cha to cover her mouth next. Poet watched the woman with an intense stare and Cha Cha looked up at her, patting her cheek.
"Too sad seeing a life be wasted."
She walked away and as soon as she closed the bathroom door behind her, Klaus moved as quickly as he could towards the table not so far away from him. Poet perked up immediately as she heard heels and she looked at Klaus.
She raised her hands up with all the strength she had and she clenched her fists, getting rid of the tape. She grunted softly, her wrists burning and her chest hurting.
"Klaus," she mumbled when the tape was gone. Klaus looked at her over her shoulder. "Klaus turn around so I could get you out of the tape."
"You're gonna die faster, Poet," Klaus said in his head. Poet shrugged, a small smirk on her face.
"Just do it."
Klaus held his breath in before he turned around and saw her already facing him. She raised her hands up again, focusing on the tape around Klaus' wrists. She almost got rid of them but not enough when she felt herself go dizzy and she saw him twisting his hands. The heels clicking on the floor got louder and Klaus turned around immediately to the table. He moved his hands around and he heard Poet's continuous grunts of pain.
"Bang your head on the table, Klaus," Poet instructed as quietly as she could. "I'll try to protect you from those two."
She stood up slowly, her legs giving out for a second before she fixed herself and raised her hands up towards the bathroom. She heard Klaus hitting himself on the table and winced when she heard the noise. She looked down at her shirt, her shirt stained with a huge amount of blood. She raised her shirt up, gulping and sighing when she saw the wound still oozing out blood.
She immediately looked over her shoulder when she heard the motel door being opened and sighed in relief when she saw a familiar face. "Patch. Thank God."
"Poet," Patch said in a relieved tone before she turned to look at Klaus. "Are you Diego's brother?" Klaus nodded. "I'm Detective Patch."
"Patch take him with you and leave," Poet said rapidly. "Hurry up before they find out he's missing and you're here."
"What about you?" Patch whispered, cutting away the tape. The door from the bathroom opened and Poet raised her hand up immediately, a red glow on her hands. Patch stared at them in shock and Poet turned to look at Klaus.
"Klaus, go through the vent," Poet said. "Go." He did so, not without grabbing his coat from the bed, and Poet turned to look at Patch again. "Go."
"I'm a Detective, Poet," Patch said. "I need to help."
"What you need to do is to call Diego. Look for him and tell him to come here. He has my nephew and I need to say goodbye," Poet said. Patch stared at her in confusion and Poet lifted her shirt up. "Please."
"Okay."
Patch immediately ran out and Poet turned to stare at the bathroom again. She took her hand out when she noticed Hazel peeking his hand out and send the knife, that was lying on the bed, towards him.
"Drop the gun, Hazel," Poet said. "Please."
Noticing him only in the bathroom, she stuck out her other hand at the other door.
"I'm coming out."
He came out and Poet sighed. "You asshole."
"I'm sorry."
"Not enough."
"Just don't throw me another knife, please. Your boyfriend is already enough."
There was silence and feeling another person come from behind the shield that she put up. She immediately got the knife from Hazel's side and threw it to Cha Cha. It struck her shoulder and Cha Cha groaned.
"Bitch."
"I can do worse."
Sending a red orb towards the two, their eyes turned red and they looked in a trance. Poet panted slightly, tumbling. She headed towards the door and closed it behind her when she saw the moon. She ran towards where Patch did and saw her waiting.
"Patch."
Poet landed on her knees and coughed. Coughed. Coughed. And coughed. Blood was spilling from her lips and Patch sighed sadly.
"I need to call 911."
"No," Poet said. "If my nephew gets here sooner, he might be able to heal me. And if he doesn't, then it's fine. I don't like riding in an ambulance."
"Poet..." Patch trailed off, shaking her head. Poet smiled a little.
"Please."
☂
"What do you want, Al?" Diego asked as he opened the door. Paris raised his head up, coming to find an older man staring at Diego.
"I ain't your secretary," the man said.
"Yeah."
Diego walked away and the man continued to talk. "Some lady called for you, said she needs your help."
Diego walked down the stairs. "What lady?"
"I dunno," the man answered, glancing at the boys whose eyes were staring intensely at him. Paris looked away. "Some, uh, Detective. I think she said her name was, uh, Blotch or somethin'."
"Patch?" The man shrugged. "She needs my help."
Diego went up the stairs, followed by the brunette Capulet, and grabbed the piece of paper the man gave him. "But she said she needs you to meet her at that motel, a dump on Calhoun."
"When?"
"About half an hour ago," the man answered. "Uh, said she found your brother and girlfriend."
Diego turned to look at Five. "Well, that didn't make sense."
Paris sighed, opening his mouth to say who it was. But the Hargreeves already figured out as Klaus' name slipped from their mouths.
"Here I'll speed us over there."
Without uttering a word, Paris grabbed the man's arm and sped him towards the motel that he saw on his way to the Hargreeves house.
Diego leaned on the boy, feeling nauseous and Paris winced. "Sorry, beginners tend to throw up."
They headed towards the loud coughing and stopped in their tracks when they noticed a woman on another woman's arms.
"Poet," Diego let out before he and Paris headed towards the woman. He and Paris dropped themselves at their knees and stood over the girl who was letting out short pants. "Hey, sweets. You need to stay awake. Okay? You hear me? You need to stay awake."
"Hold on," Paris sighed, placing his hand on the wound that was on her stomach as it was calling out for him like a magnet. He closed his eyes, feeling veins going uo his arms and he heard his aunt's breath going back to normal. "You can't leave me, Aunt Poet. You can't."
"Don't close your eyes, Poet," Patch said, slapping her cheek gently. Poet did so, making eye contact with Diego's eyes. He held her hand and even though they only met for two or three days, she was just as understanding. Maybe it was the fact that she could read his mind, literally, or because she simply listened.
"Come on, sweetheart," Diego said, holding her hand tightly. "Don't close your eyes."
"Okay."
The pain was gone but her shoulder ached and Paris looked at her and then at her shoulder. He placed his hand on it and did the same thing as he did to the other wound. He heard her take a shaky breath and just like that, the pain was gone. Her wounds were gone and she smiled at them. Diego sighed in relief and Paris as well. He grabbed his aunt's hand and held it. He smiled at her.
"You're okay, sweets. You're okay."