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Wash woke to a pitch dark room. He was immediately on high alert, sitting up straight and listening intently for the source of the noise that must have disturbed him, his pale blue sheets pooling around his waist. He was a light sleeper. Had been for a while. As he listened there was a soft sound of movement and a slight shift in the covers as a body sitting on the floor moved to lean further into the side of the bed. As his eyes adjusted he was able to make out a familiar shock of messy black hair.
"Caboose?" He mumbled, half standing, half falling out of bed to crouch beside his most childish flatmate. At this distance he was able to pick up the sound of laboured breathing and feel the heat that emanated from the other's body.
"Caboose?" he questioned again. Fear was starting to creep up on him, and he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, shaking him gently.
"Caboose!" Caboose woke then, groggy and confused.
"Ah, Wash..? I didn't feel good so I came here... but you were asleep and I was very tired so I sat on the floor..." he explained, haltingly, slurring a bit and tripping over words. Wash shook his head affectionately, hooking an arm around Caboose's waist and hoisted him to his feet.
"Right. Come on then, let's get you back to bed." He guided him back to his own room, making sure to sit him on his bed and tuck him in. In the light of Caboose's bedside lamp it was clear that his face was flushed and that he was uncomfortable.
"Wash...?" He questioned softly, "Can you stay?" The glassy appearance of his eyes sort of took away from his usual puppy-face, but Wash gave in anyway, nodding and moving to sit on the edge of Caboose's bright blue, Thomas the Tank Engine themed bed. The younger man smiled dazedly.
Tucker poked his head around the door frame then, teal t-shirt slipping off one shoulder, obviously having just rolled out of bed himself. His expression was concerned however, and he moved into the room as well, taking up a position on Caboose's other side, sliding up beside him leaning against the wall the bed was touching.
"Not feeling good buddy?" He asked sympathetically. Caboose shook his head in response.
"Nooo...."
"He was on the floor next to my bed when I woke up" Wash informed him, stifling a yawn. Tucker nodded, shifting to brush a stay hair out of his sick team mate's eyes. His eyes widened with worry and he turned sharply to look at Wash, hand pulling back abruptly.
"He's burning up!" he blurted, clearly apprehensive about the situation now that he knew how bad it could be.
"Caboose has a fever?" came a voice from the hallway.
Doc ducked into the room as well, moving to examine the other man, purple silk pajamas rustling softly as he moved.
"What are you doing up?" Wash asked. Doc shrugged as he looked down Caboose's throat.
"I was going to the bathroom." The bathroom was located directly across from Caboose's room so the young man wouldn't get lost trying to find it in the dark and end up in the attic of the apartment next door. No one could ever explain how that had even happened. The medic had moved, going across the hall to the bathroom to root through the medicine cabinet for cold medication.
"It's nothing serious" he called across to the other room,"But he's not going to be up to much for a few days!" Finding what he was looking for, he also grabbed a cup and a bowl both filled with cool water and a face cloth. He set everything on Caboose's bedside table once he crossed the hall again, then grabbed the chair from the childish man’s small coloring desk and moved it next to his bed close to his head. It took a bit of coaxing to get Caboose to take the pills; Wash had to promise to tell him more stories, like he sometimes did on nights when he couldn't get to sleep and Caboose was awake enough to listen.
That's how the rest of the night went. With Wash telling them all tales about his freelancer days, and even some times before that; Tucker offering some much-needed physical contact in the form of snuggles (not that he would ever admit it), and Doc wiping his fevered forehead with a the damp cloth.
The next morning the reds would get involved too, curiosity (and a little bit of worry) getting the better of them when no one from the neighbouring house came outside like usual. Donut would cook them breakfast, and serve it in Caboose's room so no one would have to move. Grif and Simmons would be in his room too, both knowing but neither admitting that they had grown to care for the goofball as much as anyone on their own team. Sarge would eventually wander in, when the house started to feel too empty without his three noisy charges. He would pretend to not care but quickly hover over Doc’s shoulder, making sure he did everything right.
Eventually morning would come, and in a few days Caboose would be back to his old self; but for now he had his family with him, and that was enough.