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Simon Blackquill coughs, his lungs heavy with mucus, and has to fight back a wince of pain when the action hurts his already sore throat. He hasn’t had a chest infection like this since he was in the clink, and he certainly doesn’t miss them.
He slumps forward at his desk in the study, the fountain pen gripped in his hand slipping against sweaty fingers, and attempts once again to focus on his notes. A simple illness will not stop him preparing for a court case, a court case he will win because Wright-dono’s client is clearly guilty. Still, even with his Blackquill Family Determination (a term named by Athena, who noted that both Simon and Aura are both determined to an almost stubborn degree when they have a goal in mind), reading his case file and taking notes seems to drag on forever.
Just as he is making progress, his lungs ache and his throat tickles. Simon barely has time to shove a tissue in front of his mouth before the next coughing fit begins. He gasps for breath, coughing up foul tasting phlegm as his lungs burn and his throat aches and his head throbs with the desperate effort of coughing. Simon’s eyes screw up on reflex, but he can tell what is happening when a heavy weight settles on his shoulder; that blasted hawk of his is clearly worried about him.
When it is finally over, Taka nudges Simon’s head and he throws the tissue into the rubbish bin. He breathes slowly, lungs protesting, intercostal muscles strained and twinging with every breath, and hangs his head forwards, longing for his pounding headache to subside.
It is fair to say that Simon feels absolutely dreadful.
Athena dashes out of the pharmacy, Widget blurting out the ‘thank you’ she forgets to say, and clutches her bag to her chest. She hurries to the car and heads back home, not caring that she just spent fifteen dollars on three things that probably won’t help very much, because this is for Simon.
Her wonderfully stubborn idiot of a boyfriend is sick with a chest infection. He came down with it two days ago, but it really hit its stride in court earlier. Poor Simon couldn’t stop coughing, slumping against the bench, and his normally confident cries of ‘objection’ were weak. Of course, Athena is glad she won the trial, but she has to wonder how it would have gone if the prosecutor on the case wasn’t sick.
Simon is refusing to see a doctor, so they compromised, explaining Athena’s trip to the pharmacy. Even if they don’t do much, these throat lozenges, cough medicine and painkillers should help Simon feel a little bit better. At least, she hopes so.
When they both got home from the courthouse, Athena ordered Simon to go to bed, but he probably ignored her. Yes, he’s almost certainly in the study right now, forcing himself to work on his new case. Honestly, his own stubbornness will be the death of him, it really will.
So upon her arrival at their modest apartment, Athena isn’t remotely shocked to find Simon slumped in the study, Taka on his shoulder and his bleary eyes focused on his notebook.
“Simon,” she says in a warning tone, raising an eyebrow.
Simon glances at her, offering a tiny, forced smile. “Welcome back, Athena. I trust your journey was successful.”
“Yeah, of course it was. Now go back to bed so you can use this stuff.”
“Yeah, you need to rest,” Widget adds.
He stares at her, eyes slightly unfocused, and rolls his eyes. “At what point were you appointed as my doctor?”
“When you refused to see a real one,” Athena says. She pulls the pack of throat lozenges out of the paper bag. “Now put one of these in your mouth and go to bed.”
Simon coughs slightly, but takes the packet. “Yes, doctor.”
And it’s Athena’s turn to roll her eyes as she leads him into the bedroom, determined to make him rest.