The latest coughing fit had Kirsty gasping for breath as her hands dug themselves into her sheets as pain and panic intertwined. Darkness stained the edges of her vision. Her entire body ached without remorse.

Her head throbbed as her already bad headache turned into a raging migraine.

Her lungs burned with each breath, her sides hurt from the non-stop coughing. Kirsty was honestly surprised, and thankful, that her ribs hadn't cracked.

Yet.

Her throat being even worse in her mind as everytime she swallowed - even water - felt as though she was gulping down a thousand razors. Coughing definitely didn't help in the least.

She was exhausted.

She was cold,; yet hot at the same time.

Nothing she did gave Kirsty any sort of respite. Even with sipping on neocitran, and continuously gargling with warm salt water and then mouthwash seemed to help anymore like it had in the past.

At least it hadn't gotten any worse, she mused, feeling as though she was grasping at flayed straws, trying to see the good in her situation.

She whimpered pathetically as she turned her head to look at the clock beside her bed.

2:57am.

Kirsty closed her eyes, feeling tears stinging behind her eyelids, her throat feeling heavy. All she wanted to do was sleep.

It has been a rough thirty something hours with barely getting any rest. Sure she had gotten antibiotics and inhalers for the bronchitis - turned pneumonia - and the strep throat, as well as pain medication.

It felt like nothing was helping.

Just have to let it run its course, she remembered the doctors saying, though she knew that the strep; to her anyway, would fade a lot sooner than the infection in her lungs.

In that moment, Kirsty wondered if torture in hell would be less brutal than what her body was inflicting on her currently.

A familiar scent assaulted her nose and Kirsty froze, her thoughts immediately fading, her entire body now on alert as she opened her eyes.

Directly across from her, she was met with the opening to hell, the bluish-white mist emanating from the deepest depths of the Labyrinth, to her, it was as though it was beckoning her to enter. To enter hell.

Where she would see him.

Kirsty winced, swallowing thickly as she struggled to sit up straighter. Her eyes studying the scene before her, wondering when he, the Hell Priest, would appear.

Her gaze then darted to her desk, right where the Lament Configuration was located. How did the gateway open when she physically did not open it?

"It was your desire that allowed the gateway between my domain and yours to open, Kirsty." Came the voice that she dreaded, yet eagerly, awaited to hear. Her eyes swept back and watched as he placed his hands behind his back, slowly making his way towards her.

Normally, she would've felt fear. She'd even feel anger and hatred towards the Cenobite that had turned her world upside down so those years ago. But now, oddly, she felt comforted by his presence.

Her lips parted so she could speak but was met with a violent coughing fit that had, once again, left her gripping the bedding and gasping for air.

The Hell Priest, she finally noticed, was now at the foot of her bed. His dark, obsidian gaze locked with hers while her chest heaved with exertion. Usually, he would be the face of pure stoicism, but right in that moment, to Kirsty, she could see concern swirling in his eyes.

"What are you...doing here?" She eventually croaked out.

The Hell Priest took a few more steps until he was directly beside her, looking down at her, and then to her bedside table where he saw the glass of water, the medication, and the inhalers.

His eyes finally made their way back to hers, "it was your desires that called out, begging for me to come. So I came."

She shook her head, trying to deny his claims, but deep down, it was true. Kirsty did, indeed, want the Cenobite leader there. However, she was in no mood to argue. Tears welled in her eyes again. "I just want sleep." She mumbled out, not caring that she may sound childish. "I want to breathe properly. I want to eat and drink without feeling like I'm swallowing something sharp."

The Hell Priest tilted his head slightly before reaching a pale, partially gloved hand down to Kirsty's forehead. Her eyes closed at the icy coolness of his skin against her fevered flesh, feeling slight relief by that alone.

His hand trailed down her temple and then to cupping her cheek. Kirsty was enamoured by his gentle touch that she couldn't stop herself as she leaned into his hand.

Both remained silent before another coughing fit interrupted them. After it was said and done, and after Kirsty regained her breath, she bitterly stated that he must've enjoyed seeing her suffering in such a state.

His response startled her, "No. The pain that you are experiencing by your own body is something that I wish I could take away." He admitted, pausing before adding, "As it's nothing but a waste; it does naught to heighten your experience of what pure pain and pleasure truly is."

She didn't know what she was going to say, but she held her hand up when her eyes widened, feeling saliva pool under her tongue and she jumped out of bed, pushing past the Cenobite as she ran desperately for the bathroom.

She had just made it before she emptied the contents of her stomach. She whined pathetically as she dropped down to the floor from her knees, leaning against the doorframe as her eyes closed. Her entire body shook, tears rolling down her face.

God, she felt so pathetic. So...very human.

Kirsty didn't move or acknowledge the Hell Priest as he entered into the bathroom. She felt the leather of his clothing brushing up against her bare legs as he stepped over her.

The sound of the toilet bowl lid closing made her frown, her eyes opening, only slightly while she watched with curiosity as the otherworldly being wordlessly flushed the contents of her sickness. Then, he turned to the bathtub, removing the outer fabric curtain to the outside of the tub out, the inner one was moved slightly to the side, giving him access to the faucet. He bent down, turned the water on, waiting a couple of moments before he pulled the knob for the water to make its way to the shower.

It only took about a minute for all to be said and done, but Kirsty was surprised once more when she found herself being picked up so easily; so gently, and placed onto her feet.

She whimpered, feeling panic well up inside her when she saw him gingerly grabbing the hem of her nightgown, pulling it up. She put her hand on his, stilling his movements. He did so without question. She looked up at him and he down at her.

That's when Kirsty nodded, slowly removing her hand and allowing him to do what he was doing, which was removing the article of clothing and tossing it haphazardly onto the counter. She was bare, with the exception of her underwear, and though she felt a bit of unease, she also felt... Safe.

Kirsty stilled again, her breath hitching when his hands went to her hips, his thumbs hooking onto the inside of her underwear. She didn't meet his gaze, but he also didn't make any attempts to move. It was a silent request for permission. And, Kirsty gave him a slight nod. With that, he pulled the garment down, and with her help, stepped out of it.

Now, she was completely bare, and even in her sickened state, she felt that familiar heat pooling in her lower half. What he did wasn't meant to be alluring; or captivating. It wasn't supposed to feel...erotic. And yet, she felt aroused.

Kirsty's cheeks flushed when she looked up and saw the knowing smirk on his face. The asshole knew exactly what he was doing, he knew the effect it had on her body, and yet he made no attempt to do anything about it, except to take her hand within his larger one, his other hand on the small of her back and guided her to the tub where he removed his hand from her back and pulled the plastic inner curtain back to give her access to the steaming water coming down.

It looked so inviting to her, and yet she paused... There was one other thing missing. Kirsty turned to the Hell Priest, her cheeks flushing again as she spoke, her voice sounding small as she asked, "Could you... Join me?"

If he was surprised, he didn't show, but he did nod in acceptance, and slowly reached down to remove his boots, but kept the remaining pieces of his uniform on as he followed her into the tub.

She sighed in contentment when the water hit her. She moved closer to him, and then wrapped her arms around his neck as her head fell to his chest. Kirsty was careful to not touch the six wounds that were painfully integrated into his tunic. "Thank you."

The Hell Priest wrapped his arms around her small frame, bringing her in closer as he caressed her back soothingly. Her body began to relax against him, the fatigue that Kirsty felt for what seemed like decades caught up with her. Her eyes felt heavy as she fought to remain awake in his arms.

"Rest, Kirsty." The Hell Priest's voice was quiet as he spoke, "Your body and your mind are in great need of it."

"Stay?" She whispered.

"For as long as you desire."

A small smile formed on her face as darkness this time surrounded her like a comfortable blanket, and before she succumbed to sleep, she couldn't help but think...

Who knew that her greatest foe would become her greatest comfort.