Devastation (Open to anyone who knows Jane casual)

[JANE EYRE]

It had just been headache, Jane didn't think anything of it. Her neck was stiff and sore, her head throbbed, and she had a hard time focusing on things. She had assumed a migraine until she woke up in the hospital, weak and well medicated. She had collapsed on the street, running a 104.7 degree fever.

Jane woke up later that day, still with a headache but feeling considerably better. She had an IV feeding her antibiotics and another IV keeping her hydrated. It was exhausting and yet painfully boring at the same time. Jane wanted to get up and move around but she always felt too weak to do anything. Her first night in the hospital her nurse had her walk down the corridor and back; Jane was embarassed to find that her legs were pitifully weak and could barely support her weight.

It was the next day and Jane's strength was mostly back. Her legs were still feeble and flimsy but everything else felt fine. Her headache was gone but her neck was still sore.

The doctor told her earlier in the morning that she had meningitis and should be dead. It was by some miracle that she was still breathing and functioning at full capacity.

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

Claudius had been engaged in his usual Sunday morning pursuit of drinking an espresso and reading the paper, leaning back in his chair with his feet on the table, when he learned what had happened. The paper did not go into great detail about what had occurred concerning the young heiress but to Claudius this mattered little. She was...well, in all honesty, Claudius himself couldn't define their relationship. He thought of himself and Jane as being friends, and also business associates due to his purchasing of some of her paintings. And yet there was something else about what was going on that couldn't be properly defined - Claudius had offered to take Jane to the opera, for example, something which doesn't routinely fall into the friendship category and instead into another one altogether.

The exact definition of Claudius and Jane's relationship, unusual as it was, was not of the utmost importance at this moment in time. What did matter, in Claudius' mind, was going to see Jane, to check she was getting better. As any friend would do. But then, most friends didn't buy their friends ridiculously expensive bouquets of flowers when they only had the slightest idea of the severity of the situation.

It therefore made quite a strange scene; Claudius Chandler, Hamlet Enterprises CEO, large bouquet in hand, hurrying towards Jane's hospital bed. Despite the fact Jane was probably in no fit state to deal with his exuberant greetings, Claudius bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek before addressing her properly, tone surprisingly but understandably anxious.

"Jane, I came as soon as I heard...well, read....what happened?"

[JANE EYRE]

Jane had been dozing in her bed, the news playing on the television. Part of being so sick was being tired all the time, as well as being heavily medicated to deal with the pain and the virus. She paid no mind when the news, yet again, covered her collapse on the street. It hadn't occurred to Jane that she was news worthy but ever since her inheritance, she was. She honestly couldn't understand why people were so interested in her. Jane didn't realize that a young woman inheriting so much money from an uncle she never knew existed was a big deal and a huge story. To her, it was just part of life.

She was ready to fall asleep again when her hospital room door and Claudius Chandler rushed in, a bouquet in his arms. Already quite used to his greetings, Jane tilted her cheek to him as he sweeped down and didn't even bother getting upset about it. That was what Claudius Chandler was like and she had accepted that a long time ago.

"Jane, I came as soon as I heard...well, read....what happened?"

Jane took the bouquet and raised to her face, inhaling the delicate perfume. "These are lovely, Claudius, thank you," Jane stretched to set the flowers aside and settled back into her pillows. She rearranged her blanket, pulling it up a little bit higher. She was in her own pajamas that weren't dreadfully thin but she felt exposed anyway.

"Apparently, I had...or rather...have meningitis. I was running a fever and passed out and ended up here. I'm fine now,"

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

It was clear that Jane had gotten used to Claudius' manner of greetings as she did not protest as she might have done before. Instead she admired the bouquet (Claudius' acknowledging her thanks with a smile and a nod before drawing up a chair to sit by Jane's bedside).

"Apparently, I had...or rather...have meningitis. I was running a fever and passed out and ended up here. I'm fine now,"

Claudius' eyes widened at the news; it was indeed a shock to hear when all he'd read was about her collapse; that in itself being serious enough.

"Meningitis, good God...." he exclaimed, somehow managing to tone down his usual exuberant tone in light of Jane's ill health and the fact he was in a hospital ward. "I hope you'll forgive me for saying this, but it's a miracle you're still alive to say so."

[JANE EYRE]

"I hope you'll forgive me for saying this, but it's a miracle you're still alive to say so."

Jane nodded and picked at her hospital blanket. "I know," Her best, and only, friend from her childhood had died to something far less serious than meningitis. Helen had been taken by pneumonia, an illness that should have been cured with a couple of doses of antibiotics. Jane knew that she was the farthest thing from a normal, happy, healthy adult female but she was stronger than that. She had already survived the pneumonia and influenza outbreak at Lowood and she was receiving the best treatment in the city. Jane knew that she could, and would survive this. It had been caught early enough for there to be hope.

"The doctor's all say that I should be fine; back on my feet in a week or so," She didn't share that the doctors strongly suspected that her legs were never be quite as strong as before or that there might be other, internal problems. The first one the doctor had expressed concern for was her ability to reproduce. He never said it would be impossible, he simply said there could, and probably would, be more complications than with a normal pregnancy. Another doctor warned her of heart disease and about six months after being released Jane was to see a cardiologist for a full check up.

Jane was touched that Claudius seemed so concerned. She genuinely did not realize that he cared that much for her.

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

"The doctor's all say that I should be fine; back on my feet in a week or so,"

Claudius grinned, pleased at this news and, he had to admit it, relieved. He presumed it was because he thought of Jane as a friend, and yet he had to admit, even to himself, it was strange for him to be so concerned. He didn't care a jot about his own nephew and his grief, but he was relieved that Jane would be well again soon...?

He refocussed his attention on Jane in order to make a suitable reply, not wanting to dwell on Harry at this particular moment in time.

"I'm glad, Jane," the CEO said, still smiling. "I know this may be a weird thing for me to say, but you seem like a fighter. You'll pull through just fine."

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

Erik had never particularly cared about world news, or even New York's news, much less local news. The bigger picture didn't really matter to him when it was filled with the trite commentary of the mindless melancholy of human failure. Nothing really interested him, but he'd turned on the television to play as background noise as he made himself a late breakfast, nothing special. Just a toasted bagel and a strong black coffee.

The news interested him this normal and mundane morning. He felt his jaw drop and himself sit down, staring at the newscast which contained his friend's (friend? a foreign concept, but she considered them friends) face and a rather disturbing message.

First the news sunk in, then the sprinklers dissolved the smoke crowding his kitchen as his toaster oven burst into flames from neglect. The poor toaster oven.

It was just the kitchen, thank God, and none of his music was ruined, but it took him a good thirty minutes for it all to stop. Then another hour or so for the damn firemen to clear his apartment, the ridiculous folk that they were, fretting over a destroyed toaster oven. Again, poor toaster oven for receiving such abuse.

It wasn't until two hours after receiving the news of Jane's illness that he finally made his way to the hospital to pay her a visit. Flowers were customary, yes? No, those wouldn't due. Flowers were for women you loved, and Erik did not love Jane. He... tolerated her... Perhaps liked her? Not in that sense, no of course not. Just enough to worry, he supposed.

Worry? That was a new concept for a person such as himself. But nonetheless, he felt the need... No no, he did not need to. He felt he was obligated to see her. She would want that.

He decided flowers were necessary, though they were small and quaint, like his "friend."

He knocked and entered the room, worried, of course, but then a bit frightened and disturbed.

What was that rather suspicious looking man doing by Jane's beside?

"H-hello..." he said demurely. He had prepared a rather grandiose and long worried speech to give to the sickly woman, but now he fell into a fit of jealousy on the inside.

"I... Well, I just... You're sick, so I..."

A boyfriend, of course. Quite stupid for him to think she was alone, but he'd thought as much before, with the way she talked of herself.

He rubbed the back of his head with a blush, thankfully unrecognizable through all his makeup. "You're alright, I pressume?"

[JANE EYRE]

"I know this may be a weird thing for me to say, but you seem like a fighter. You'll pull through just fine."

Jane let out a small, breathy laugh. She had never been called a fighter before. It was a startlingly accurate description though. She had fought through many hardships and had always survived. Jane smiled and reached for her water. She took a moment to take a drink as she figured out how to reply to Claudius.

As she opened her mouth to speak, however, someone else joined them in the room. "Erik!" Jane chirped rather brightly, setting her water aside. "I wasn't expecting you!" She truly hadn't. While Jane considered Erik one of her better friends she was more or less aware of the fact that he didn't return the sentiment. At most, she though he might send a card or give her a ring on the phone. But, she wasn't going to question it. It was a lovely surprise.

Naturally, true to her rather oblivious nature, Jane didn't pick up on how uncomfortable he was about the situation.

"Come in, don't worry, I'm not contagious," Jane smiled at her own joke and carefully waved a hand at the other chair. She couldn't move too fast because of the IVs sticking out of her.

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

Claudius wasn't sure how Jane would react to his comment, and therefore he wasn't surprised when she took awhile to respond. He was surprised, however, when the door opened and someone else entered the room.

"Erik! I wasn't expecting you!"

Chandler turned to see the man whom Jane addressed. He had to admit he found it rather strange that it was another man and not some female friend of Jane's who had turned up...but then, he of all people, had apparently been the first.


"H-hello...I... Well, I just... You're sick, so I..."

What was this guy so nervous about? Surely it couldn't be Jane?

"Come in, don't worry, I'm not contagious,"

Although Claudius wasn't the sort of person to feel awkward, it was clear this Erik guy felt that way. As if in an attempt to relieve this, Claudius got to his feet and moved towards him, extending a hand for him to shake.

"Erik, isn't it? I'm Claudius Chandler, it's great to meet you. You're a friend of Jane's, I'm guessing?"

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

Erik stepped hesitantly into the room, glancing quickly from Jane to the mystery man, hoping there would be some indication as to his relationship to the woman.

He rather stepped back, however, when the man who introduced himself as Claudius Chandler (familiar name) held his hand out to him. He stared at it for a good long moment, then one of his eyebrows quirked downward, in a "I don't do handshakes," gesture. He rubbed his hands (which were free due to him hiding the flowers in his jacket, for entertainment purposes) close to his chest, cracking his knuckles lightly and noddind to the hand outstretched toward him.

"Close acquaintance of Mademoiselle's, yes." The word friend refused to escape his lips. "And you are related to her how, Monsieur... Chandler?"

He glanced toward Jane, a bit unnerved that this man, who looked so slimy and staunchly snobbish, had worked their way into Jane's rather small social circle. At least he thought it was small since she had clearly been desperate enough to make friends with him. No one who actually had friends could bear to associate with him. He frightened people who functioned on a normal spectrum, yet he didn't seem to frighten Jane.

[JANE EYRE]

Jane was rather used to this behavior from Erik. He was just as socially awkward and she was, if not more, and was certainly a far deal more standoffish. Him not shaking Claudius's hand wasn't a surprise, Jane knew had such an aversion to touch. Also, true to herself, Jane didn't notice the almost palatable uncomfortably stiff air in the room. Instead, she got distracted by the tape of her IV itching and set about scratching it very carefully so she didn't disturb her antibiotics. She hated how much the IVs itched but couldn't anything about it.

Her night nurse had taught her a trick where she ran ice over the itching area and Jane decided to go ahead and do that. She reached a hand into her cup of ice water and pulled out a single cube. As she returned her attention to the men, Jane ran the cube over the itching area.

"Forgive his manners, Claudius. His name is Erik Spectre, he's a magician and a brilliant musician," Jane smiled at Erik and remotioned for him to take a seat. "And Claudius is a friend as well as business partner. He buys my paintings on occasion,"

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

The look Erik gave him as he shook his hand -or, actually, didn't, perturbed Claudius. What sort of man was he to turn down a friendly handshake, and give him a look like that? Who did he think he was?

"Close acquaintance of Mademoiselle's, yes. And you are related to her how, Monsieur... Chandler?"

Before Claudius could come up with appropriate words to try and define the relationship he and Jane had, Jane spoke for him. Claudius was glad she had apologized for Erik's behaviour (it was unexpected for the CEO, to be certain) and also for how she decided to phrase their relationship. Much simpler and less confusing than how he would have tried to term it.

"Forgive his manners, Claudius. His name is Erik Spectre, he's a magician and a brilliant musician. And Claudius is a friend as well as business partner. He buys my paintings on occasion,"

Claudius nodded to back up Jane's words and flashed her a quick smile, but his gaze soon returned to the mysterious Erik Spectre.

"A musician?" Claudius said, admittedly interested. "That sounds like much more fun than my job." He laughed. Then, "What sort of music do you play? I get the feeling you aren't a rock and roll kind of guy."

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

"Forgive his manners, Claudius."

Ashamed, Jane, for your unethical friend who brought you worry and flowers?

Erik wished to throw the bouquet he'd hidden up his sleeve (to surprise her with a magic trick, of course) away. Forgive his manners, indeed! No ones manner's should be forgiven by someone else, least of all Erik's! He felt another knuckle pop beneath his other hand, and he straighted himself entirely. He did not address his "friend's" comment, instead turning his full attention to her "other friend."

He didn't trust CEO's of any huge corporation. They were all complete arses.

He narrowed his eyes at the man's forced attempt at humor. Pathetic, really. "Does being a musician infer that I only play in this day and age? Can I not compose as well as fiddle or sing? It is a sad day indeed when the only musicians in the world merely play, rather than write music."

Harsh words, but justified. Always justified.

Ah yes. He realized he must "keep up appearences," so to speak, when dealing with people. He quickly righted himself, rolling his eyes inwardly, and attempted being somewhat normal.

"I compose and play classical music, Monsieur Chandler, and I've written a few musicals," he explained. "Perhaps you've heard of them. I'm sure a man of your stature often visits the theatre, non?"

He doubted he did. The man didn't seem the type to patronize the arts, even if he did buy Jane's paintings.

"If not my musicals, then my operas, surely, monsieur. I've had three premiere at the Met, and another in the works."

This must all have gone right over his head.

Just the way Erik liked it.

[JANE EYRE]

Jane didn't even try to hide her glare aimed at Erik. Really now, that was incredibly rude and uncalled for. Claudius was simply trying to be friendly. Jane looked up at her excessively tall friend and gave him a look that clearly read as unimpressed. "Erik's very talented," She told Claudius without look away from Erik. Her voice had a slight edge of annoyance to it. Normally, she didn't mind it when Erik was like this because it was only ever her that had to deal with it. It was entirely unfair to Claudius, though.

Jane tossed the ice cube back into the cup and itched at the tape again. Shifting around on the bed, Jane stretched her legs. They shook a little and she couldn't really do anything for that. If Claudius and Erik weren't there she would ring someone to come and help her. It was sort of pathetic that she needed someone's help to stretch but that was a small trade off for being alive.

Glancing out the window, Jane pinched the bridge of her nose. There was a headache that was threatening to start and take over. She sighed quietly to herself and turned back to face Erik and Claudius.

"I'm very glad the two of you found time to visit me," She offered up a small, slightly pained smile. It was time to change the subject, she though. "It was getting terribly boring in here by myself. I wish I had thought to put a book in my bag before I left home," A sad attempt at a joke.

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

"Does being a musician infer that I only play in this day and age? Can I not compose as well as fiddle or sing? It is a sad day indeed when the only musicians in the world merely play, rather than write music."

Oh. He was one of those types of musicians. The really crazy ones who devoted their entire life to art and nothing else. That might go some way as to explaining this Spectre character's odd behaviour thus far in the proceedings. Claudius reckoned he was the type to spend days on end holed up in an attic somewhere, writing and living on coffee.

His job certainly sounded far more appealing than that.

"I compose and play classical music, Monsieur Chandler, and I've written a few musicals. Perhaps you've heard of them. I'm sure a man of your stature often visits the theatre, non?"

Claudius was about to make his reply; he was in fact a frequent visitor of the theatre, though not nearly so much as his nephew, when Erik spoke again.

"If not my musicals, then my operas, surely, monsieur. I've had three premiere at the Met, and another in the works."

Before Claudius could express the fact he was impressed (which wouldn't be a polite lie; the fact this guy had had three premieres at the Met was pretty impressive), Jane chipped in again. Claudius couldn't help but notice the look she gave Erik and smirked inwardly.

"Erik's very talented,"

Claudius smiled again and nodded before re-taking his seat.

"He clearly is,"

"I'm very glad the two of you found time to visit me. It was getting terribly boring in here by myself. I wish I had thought to put a book in my bag before I left home,"

Personally Claudius thought the television would be diversion enough, but as if it wasn't obvious already, his and Jane's personalities and tastes varied a great deal.

"Well, you never anticipated this happening," Claudius said, with a sweep of his hand to indicate the room. "Though I'd have thought you'd be the type to always carry a book around, if I'm honest."