Thirty seconds later, and they're talking.

"So, I know some scientists, kind of…I know people who know scientists. And I also know there's some Fever research thingie in the desert somewhere," Scream says.

"…so?" Revenge asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Um…we have to save my brother, or at least try, I mean I kind of figured it wasn't worth it, but I can't see him like that."

"Yeah, scientists can't save him. I've heard Prince and Doc talking, it's not possible to cure the Fever."

"No, it has to be possible. There has to be a way. I can't just accept that," Scream says, cold in his nerves and panic building behind his skull.

"And you figure, the version your brother has is probably mutated. One of the earlier forms. If someone actually has a cure, it's probably impossibly expensive and for a newer version of the Fever," Revenge says.


There's nothing that Scream hates more than logic.

"And you know that this is just Prince luring you back, don't you?" Revenge asks.

That hits Scream like a golf club between the eyes. He's right. Doc, being the one who gave Fever the Fever, would logically be the only person who could cure him.

And Prince would bargain with Scream, be ever so generous seeming but in reality would be buying Scream's soul.

"I can't…I can't let him die," Scream says, in an extremely mild state of shock. "I can't let my brother die."

"But Prince," Revenge says, snapping his fingers in front of Scream's face, trying to remind him of all the horrors encountered.

"But my brother."

"But Prince."

"He's worth it," Scream says.

"Who, Prince?" Revenge asks, visibly confused.

"No, Fever," Scream says, sighing in slight exasperation.

"Okay, well…here, I have a cunning plan," Revenge says. That was always what Prince would say, as a joke. He never understood why it was a joke, but Prince always found it funny.

"Don't say that."

"Alright. So, you…you can go on your suicide mission with Prince, if that's really what you want to do. And I'll…I'll look around the desert and city for anyone who can help," Revenge says.

"Why would you do that for me?" Scream asks, happy that Revenge will help, but confused as to why.

"You understand."

And those two words are all Scream needs.

He smiles, and holds out his hand. Revenge shakes it, very solemnly.

"Good luck," Revenge says.

"You too."

"You need it a hell of a lot more than I do."

They let go of each other's hands.

It's two minutes later, and Scream's saying goodbye to Fever.

Scream had to shake him awake, which made him feel bad, but the sooner Scream could get to the cure the better.

"I'm leaving," Scream says.

"Where and why?" Fever asks, voice so soft it's almost inaudible.

"Versailles, and to save you."

"You're going back? No, no, Caleb, don't. Please," Fever says. "They'll torture you, they'll kill you. I need you."


Scream's name.

It kinda stings that Fever remembers Scream's name, but Scream can't remember Fever's.

"Well, I need you," Scream says. "And Revenge is right, I'll only be able to save you by going back. He'll be staying."

Fever nods. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Good luck."

"You too. Stay strong for me, kay?" Scream asks, squeezing one of Fever's hands.

"Okay," Fever says, smiling weakly. "I'll try."



There are tears in Scream's eyes as he takes what might be his last look at his brother and turns the light out.

It's three hours later, and Scream's kind of lost.

He knows the general direction of Versailles, but it's kind of hard to tell general directions when the terrain all looks the same.

He just keeps walking, refusing to admit defeat and starting to sweat really heavily as the sun gets brighter.

It's so hot and it's getting unbearable and Scream takes a few steps before falling on his knees, curling in a ball, and giving up hope.

He forgot how much he hates the desert.

How much it reminds him of the first time he was in it.

Fifteen's shoulder felt like it was on fire, like every second he was getting shot again and again. The heat was driving daggers into his skull, as was the pain of betrayal.

It was like a drumbeat. Getting shot every second, feeling the daggers go deeper…all at the same time.

His brother was a few steps ahead of him, veering sharply to the side every few seconds, barely able to stay on his feet.

Fifteen was feeling much the same way, so it didn't really matter.

The helplessness was overpowering, the feeling of being in complete emptiness with no one to hear your screams.

And he tapped his brother, who turned, pain and lack of hope written all over his face.

Fifteen grabbed his brother's hand and opened his mouth, trying to communicate that they should just give up, but his voice wasn't responding to him, wouldn't come.

But his brother understood.

Fifteen laid down, and his brother laid on top of him, and they breathed together and waited for the end to come.

Scream is almost in exactly the same position he was in then, eyes closed and hands behind his head.

Then something kicks him.

He starts to think he's going back to his memories, but no—this is different.

There's another kick, and Scream opens an eye.

It's definitely a person, but his features are obscured.

That doesn't matter; Scream knows who it is the minute he starts speaking.

"Fifteen!" the kicker says. "You came back! Oh, I have missed you so. We are going to have a splendid time together, wouldn't you agree?"

When he hears that voice, the voice that haunts his nightmares, he wants to scream fuck you, wants to hurt Prince so badly.

But it triggers something else inside him, a Stockholm Syndrome of sorts.

And all he can say is "I missed you."

A/N: All feedback is appreciated!