Chapter Text
Nate scanned the charts in front of him, using his fingers to roughly walk out the distances. If he was right about which of the little islands off the Sinai Peninsula that old diary had used for a bearing...
"Do you have to look so damn comfortable?"
Sully sounded like his mood from earlier was far from lifted. Nate couldn't understand why he didn't just head back to the docks if he was so concerned about getting out of here, or else decide to enjoy the enforced break. Egypt in the winter was still the closest thing to a holiday Nate had ever really had, normally he'd been too busy surviving with Sam or keeping up with Sully to really appreciate his surroundings.
"Hey, at least we aren't stuck here in the height of summer. You were complaining we didn't know exactly where we should be looking, think of this as a excuse to do some of that 'planning' you're always going on about." He scribbled down a set of coordinates, hoping the layout of the reefs hadn't changed much since the 1800's.
"I know what I said and it would do you good not to fly by the seat of your pants the whole damn time. Still doesn't mean you have to be so energetic, at least have the decency to sweat or laze around like the rest of us."
The hoarse, scratchy quality of Sully's voice finally registered with Nate. He looked over, taking in the sheen of sweat on the older man's forehead and the patchy flush on his cheeks despite the cooling breeze coming through the open window. "Seriously? It can't be more than 65 degrees out there, I didn't have you pegged for such a delicate flower. Are you feeling ok?"
Sully glared in response, causing Nate's stomach to knot uneasily. He'd never seen that kind of look directed at him and he fought the impulse to just slink out of the room. Come on, this was Sully...who right now looked like he was halfway to falling back into the seat he just stood up from. He came round the table hesitantly, not happy that part of him still saw Sully as a potential threat.
Ruthlessly pushing that away he searched for something normal to say, something a concerned friend wouldn't even have to think about. "Are you sure you're ok? Do you need me to head out to the market and grab you anything?"
The next moment Sully was barging through him. Nate flinched away reflexively, then felt the table pushing into his back.
Sully's voice was all snarl. "I'm fine. What I need is for you to mind your own business and stop treating me like I've got one foot in the grave."
With adrenaline thrumming through him, Nate snarled back. Sliding around the table he forced himself to turn his back, hating Sully for reminding him how screwed up he was. "Good to hear. I'll stay out of your hair until you stop acting like such a total dick!"
Slamming the door gave him a certain amount of satisfaction. He stomped down the stairs, shoving hands deep into his trouser pockets to hide the shake in them. Heading for the beach he resolutely refused to look back towards the house. It would serve Sully right if he thought Nate might bolt, let him take a share of feeling stupid and ashamed and guilty all in one!
He managed to keep feeling angry about as far as the water. Looking up he saw the water beginning to take on a deeper hue as the light dropped below the buildings behind him, the sky kissed with the gold said to give the city its name. Nate felt a sigh loosen in his chest. Sully was obviously sick but somehow he was the one in a sulk, like he would have been all sweetness and light if the positions had been reversed.
He half-heartedly scuffed a pattern in the sand as he thought. Ok, no problem; head to the local drug store and pick up some supplies, get a local doctor's number just in case...he'd be back at the apartment after dark so if Sully wasn't up waiting for him he could surprise him with breakfast instead. While he was down by the water he could even leave their temporary address with a couple of the dive shops, they would be the first to know if a boat was going cheap. Nate huffed an amused breath - this would even be a good thing to bring up next time Sully was going on about 'thinking ahead'. It was only a shame they were in Egypt, Nate thought with a grin. If he could have been frying bacon when Sully woke up it would cure just about anything.
*
Coming back to the flat in darkness wasn't entirely unexpected, but Nate felt a shiver that was more unease than temperature. It was definitely verging on the bad side of chilly with the window open and he suspected Sully's room would be much the same.
He tapped on the door, half expecting Sully to be awake when he couldn't hear snoring. "Sully, how are you feeling?" He paused, hoping for a response. "Sully I swear to God if you sleep naked I will be scarred for life..."
Just enough light still came through the open curtains for him to see. He was right, with the window open the room was freezing, not that Sully had got the message with the way the sheets were kicked down around his feet. Nate snuck across the room, sliding the window shut with exaggerated care. He paused on the way back, not liking the minute shivers causing Sully to twitch and shudder even in his sleep.
"If you wake up I'll deny everything," Nate whispered, freeing a sheet and pulling it over him before silently leaving the room, closing the door behind him.
Back in the main room he took the doctor's number out of his pocket, fidgeting with the corner of the paper where it had started to curl. Realistically he knew the chance of a house-call after hours was ridiculously small and that Sully wouldn't thank him for overreacting, he just had a bad feeling that he couldn't quite shake. Maybe it was the smell of the room, fever sweat and sour air that reminded him of the infirmary room of the orphanage. He tucked the number under the corner of the phone, just in case.
Hearing movement in the bedroom he looked up, half expecting Sully to open the door and bawl him out for coming back late. Just in case Nate moved into the kitchen, making a bit of extra clatter getting out a glass of water and the paracetamol he'd managed to convince the pharmacist he was old enough to buy. "Feeling any better Sully? If you don't you can't be grumpy, I brought drugs which you can't have unless you admit you're sick."
There was no reply, Nate came back in to see the bedroom door firmly closed. "Never mind, must be hearing things," he muttered to himself with an uncertain shake of the head. Putting the glass and pills in easy reach he went back to the work he had left spread over the table. Something about the phrasing of the Captain's last entry was odd, and based on what some locals had told him Nate thought he might not be imagining it.
A loud thump that rattled the door on its hinges startled him out of his thoughts. "Ok, definitely didn't imagine that." He paused with a hand on the doorknob, pictures of Sully passed out on the floor flashing through his head. A pillow was so prosaic that for a crazy second he was almost disappointed. Stepping over it he looked toward the huddled shape on the bed. "Sully?"
When there was no response he crossed hesitantly over, not wanting to move Sully he propped the pillow against the headboard. In doing so Nate's forearm brushed against the man's shoulder, the heat radiating from it made him pull back with a curse. "Dammit Sullivan, you couldn't have just got a cold! That's it, I'm getting that Tylenol and you are gonna wake up and swallow it if I have to tip the glass of water over your head."
Sully murmured in his sleep, whipping his head from side to side before curling convulsively into the foetal position again. For a fleeting second Nate wished for Sam, who always seemed to know what to do when he or one of the other boys at St. Francis' were sick. Hell, at this point he would settle for one of the nuns. The important thing was he wasn't panicking, or babbling, or thinking of anything at all to ignore the face that Sully might be dying in the next room and...
Nate dug his nails hard into his palm. Sam was thousands of miles away and in prison, he would rather cut off his right foot than see Sister Catherine again and Sully was going to be fine. He lent over Sully with a fresh glass of water in one hand and shook him lightly with the other.
"Sully?"
Sully blinked and mumbled indistinctly, pulling back as Nate went to feel his forehead. The next moment his eyes snapped open, not focusing at all as he lunged up and swung out. Nate wasn't expecting a need to dodge anything, he caught Sully's backhand full across the face, dimly aware of the glass breaking somewhere beside him as he sprawled on the floor. Momentarily dazed Nate shook his head, wincing and spitting out a mouthful of blood. "Oh crap, didn't see that one coming."
He got shakily to his feet in time to see Sully slump back onto the bed, eyes moving restlessly under his lids. Nate touched his lip gingerly, feeling lucky it was only a split. "Great, so that went well." He rubbed the back of his head where it had glanced off the floor. "You wait here then, I'll get a cloth."
He'd barely made it back to the kitchen when he heard more thumps from the bedroom and a low moan. He hurriedly filled another glass, soaking the dishcloth in a sudden flash of inspiration. Nate got back to see Sully trying to get up, hands clutching at the blankets in uncoordinated spasms.
Nate hesitated for a long second but the distress written on Sully's face made up his mind. Placing the glass and cloth safely of harm's way he grasped the older man's shoulders, hating how easily he could push him back to the bed. "Sully please, it's fine, I'm here!"
He finally stilled, resting his burning cheek against Nate's forearm with a sigh. His eyelids fluttered again as Nate placed a damp cloth on his forehead, when they opened they roamed around the room for far too long before finally focusing.
"Is hot.."
Nate tried to ignore the slur in his voice for the fact Sully actually seemed to be making sense. He tried to keep his voice casual. "Thanks for the heads up, I would never have guessed with that fever you're running."
"Thirsty."
"I got you another glass of water, but how 'bout you help me sit you up this time Sully, what do you think?" Nate slipped a arm behind his back, the cloth slipping off as Sully awkwardly shuffled up. He was daring to think the worst might be over when Sully frowned, confusion fighting through the general haze.
"Mom, since when do you call me by my nickname?"
Nate froze, desperately searching for a glimmer of recognition in Sully's face. His first instinct was to protest but he stifled it, at least Sully wasn't fighting even if he wasn't all there. Nate just raised the glass, not trusting himself to speak in case he broke whatever delusion this was. Before he could even start to think of how to get pills involved Sully was slumping back, one hand groping vaguely in Nate's direction.
The teenager felt a half-hysterical laugh bubbling up at the absurdity of the situation. Trying to suppress it, not entirely successfully, Nate reached out and squeezed gently. "Relax, I'm not going anywhere...though I draw the line at a lullaby. Try and get some sleep."
When Sully's eyes drifted closed Nate had an irrational urge to shake him awake again. He sat there for a long time, watching the older man's face for any changes until his own eyes started to feel heavy. Unwilling to drift off he carefully let go of Sully's hand, busying himself with clearing up the broken glass and spilt water but leaving the bedroom door propped open...just in case. At some point he began talking to Sully in a low voice, not expecting a response but needing something to fill the quiet.
"I don't like being on my own Sully. It never seems to bother Sam but, I don't know sometimes I think I'd rather go to prison with him than stay outside waiting. I hate this, I hate that you're sick and part of me is just worried about how I would get back to South America without you, or if I left enough messages for Sam that he could find me when he gets out. At some point you two are gonna have to find out about each other, you'll either hate him or think you picked the wrong Drake...or I'll have you ganging up with him about what's best for me, not sure which would be worst."
Some time after midnight Nate finally broke and tried the phone, by some miracle there was an answer. The doctor was reassuring, but too busy covering the clinic to do a house call until the morning and at some point in the conversation Nate realised he didn't even have a thermometer, should he be asked what Sully's temperature actually was. Still, the advice was what he had expected; get water and pills into him if possible and find a way to get to the clinic if things got worse. After hanging up Nate rested his head in his hands, taking measured breaths as he got control of the helpless feeling that had only become greater as the night wore on.
A couple of hours later Sully stirred again, never more than half awake as Nate finally managed to coax him into taking some tablets with more sips of water. He had no idea if Sully recognised him or even properly knew there was someone in the room. Nate pulled a chair up beside the bed rather than leave the room again, keeping himself awake by mentally translating the Tylenol instructions into Latin while he watched for any changes.
When Sully's fever finally broke, in the early hours of the morning, Nate let his head drop forward to the covers. Trusting that any movement of Sully's would wake him, he eventually surrendered to an uneasy sleep.
*
In the end it was an insistent shaft of sunlight on his face that finally woke him, as he raised his head he could see Sully starting to stir as well. "Sully?"
The other man's eyes gradually focused, then he frowned. "What the hell happened to your face, you get into a fight after you left last night?"
Nate couldn't help grinning, despite the accompanying sting. He never thought Sully's typical before-coffee tone would be so welcome. "Don't worry, I'm not banned from any bars. How're you feeling? If the fever hadn't broken this morning I was going to kidnap your very own, personal doctor." He decided if Sully didn't remember the night there was no point bringing it up, no point making him feel guilty for something that wasn't his fault.
"I'm in no hurry to leap out of bed," Sully replied as he sat up, "but better. Sorry for snapping at you last night, I guess being sick is good practice for when I turn into a grumpy old man."
Nate found he couldn't quite bring himself to keep up the usual banter. The worry of last night was still a looming shade to close behind him and he just stayed silent, picking a loose thread from the sheet with his bitten fingernails. He should have know Sully would notice the quiet.
"Kid, are you ok?"
Nate was unable meet Sully's eye. "You were really out of it last night, are you sure I shouldn't get someone anyway?"
."I really do feel better, but if that changes you can call for someone."
Or call a taxi and drag you to the nearest hospital, Nate thought privately. He stifled a yawn as he stood, folding his arms so he didn't fidget with sleeves in a habit that had taken him years to break. "Great, I'm sure that'll help when you didn't even realise you were sick the first time. You lie here like a good invalid, I'll get some coffee - some of us have been up all night."
" If you get cranky later you can always take a nap."
Sully's soft chuckle reassured Nate in a way his bravado hadn't. "Thanks a lot Sully, next time you can fluff your own pillows." He couldn't quite resist the urge to look back before he left the room, as if Sully would slip back into delirium if left unattended. "Don't go anywhere, ok?"
He tried to ignore Sully's parting mutter, focusing on better things like the smell of coffee, the reassuring bustle of the street below waking up, the fact that Sully had missed his so-called 'capable' partner panicking and falling apart like a little kid. They just needed to get this job done and get back across the ocean, he had another year to worry about what happened when Sam finished serving time.
Nate yawned and headed back to Sully's room with two steaming mugs, snagging his notebook on the way.
"Talking of plans..."