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It’s Elena that alerts him to the problem.
She whines. High and sharp in exactly the way that he has learned, in the past twelve hours, means that she is abruptly cold. And if Elena is abruptly cold then...
Rude is fast when he needs to be, whatever the general perception of him might be. And this time, he is only just fast enough to catch Reno around the waist and fling him back into the living room before the skinny bastard gets the bathroom door closed behind him.
Reno’s answering whine, on tumbling back over the arm of the couch and back into his place next to Elena, is several times more pathetic.
“Bucket.” Hisses Rude.
“But I-” Reno starts, before the wave of nausea that must have driven him towards the bathroom seems to wash over him anew, and he doubles.
“Bucket,” Rude instructs again. “You’ve locked yourself in the bathroom before. You won’t get better lying in the tub for three days. You stay out here.”
“But-”
Elena whines again. This time guttural, even angry, and even Rude is left wincing. Reno has the good sense to look apologetic for the approximate half second before the nausea hits again, and this time does truly start him retching.
He is at least, Rude notes, gratefully, thoughtful enough to actually reach for the bucket, that has in fact been left there for this purpose.
They’d been caught out in the rain on an extended stakeout four days ago. Rude Knew precisely that it was four days ago because he does not forget that much complaining from both of them easily.
They had been caught early yesterday in Reno’s office, clearly too sick to work -Elena shivering too hard to type properly, Reno’s palor turned a troubling greenish - and both far to stubborn to admit it. So. Rude had left a note on Tseng’s door, and dragged them to his place for safe-keeping.
Reno, because he knew better than to trust the jackass to take care of himself. Elena because he couldn’t stand to send her home alone looking so miserable.
So here the three of them are now - Rude’s two friends huddled together miserably on his fold out couch, and Rude himself almost. Maybe. Starting to regret his hospitality.
When Reno finishes emptying his stomach this time, Elena grabs him, pulls him more properly under the blankets with her again, and wipes her nose on the back of his shirt. Reno allows this without complaint.
Yeah. Definitely starting to regret it.
Rude takes the bucket and dumps it out and rinses it again anyway. Then he checks one more time that the bathroom door is locked, sans whiny, paranoid second-in-command, and goes to make himself a cup of tea. Ramuh’s sake.
They can suffer without the TV on for a little while. Maybe they will actually go to sleep, and stay that way.
-
It is Elena that alerts him to the next problem too, though, inadvertently. Rude has spent the last two hours in surprisingly quiet contentment. Himself, and the newspaper and his favorite chair and the only real sounds; something quiet and classical from the radio and occasional grumbling snuffles from the fold out. He keeps his cup of tea hot, and brimming. Maybe the hydration will help shield him from whatever the other two had gotten. Even if not, It tastes good. This more normal day-off ritual is soothing.
It’s nice.
It’s nice until he hears the distinct sound of glasses being moved around in a kitchen cupboard. Warily, Rude raises his head, looks to the couch. Reno is still there, snoring gently. Elena however…
With a sigh, Rude folds his paper, sets down it and the tea. Stands, and with no little annoyance that he can indeed see a trail of used tissues, leading a path from living room down hallway and to kitchen. Like unsanitary breadcrumbs. Whatever she is looking for, she hasn’t found it, because he can still hear her in there.
May as well follow.
Sure enough, she’s halfway up on a counter, balanced shakily on one hand, the other rooting through his coffee-mug drawer. He approaches quietly, speaks only when he’s close enough to catch her if she startles. She’s certainly trembling enough that it isn’t an impossibility.
“Which one?”
She freezes. But at least she doesn’t fall.
“...The green one. With the stickmen.” Ah.
“Come down.” She hesitates another moment, before shifting her balance. She does allow him to help her safely back to the floor, and follows the direction in the jerk of his head to settle at the kitchen table. “Thirsty, cold, or hungry?”
“Thirsty. And also cold.” Clearly. She’s still shaking like a leaf, in her table chair. Probably because she left the couch without taking any blankets with her.
He nods. He sets the mug down. He slides his button-up off over his shoulders, and drops it over hers. Then he returns, to the mug, fills it with apple-juice, and sticks it in the microwave. Something his baby sister had liked too. Figures it would work with Elena.
He joins her at the table. And she doesn’t say anything, but she does brighten - eyes a little less glassy and mouth turned down in slightly less misery as she puts the mug to her lips.
Behind them again, he hears the bathroom door open. Then close. Then the painful sound of retching.
Fuck.
Figures.
Well, if the lock doesn’t cut it, he’ll just take the door off the hinges, for a while.
-
It takes him less than five minutes to remove the lock and the hinges and the door from the frame all together. It takes significantly more than that to coax Reno out from behind the shower glass door and back to living space, where there is food, and vitamin water, and tv to watch and people to talk to, and in the end the only thing that does it is Elena complaining that the couch is comfy enough on her own and she won’t get better either if she can’t sleep. Smart girl, he thinks. She’s always learning.
It didn’t help negotiations that Reno had smuggled a blanket into the bathroom with him this time. A lost bargaining chip. Unfortunately, that one keeps learning too.
-
Feeding them is easy. At least feeding them is always easy. Rude isn’t much of a cook, not the kind of thing for which he has patience. But he’s prepared for occasions such as this, the ability to just pull a bag of carrot-ginger soup from the freezer and toss it into a saucepan to heat reminds him that his partner isn’t actually all annoyance, all the time. His dedication to keeping his family fed, and especially the tradition of ‘sick soup’ is one Rude is currently grateful for.
And they continue like this, in various iterations, for the next two and half days. Until finally Elena feels well enough to actually pick up her tissues and put them in the trash, and spends more time awake watching television than unconscious on the couch, and Reno starts communicating with actual human words again. By Thursday, they’ve almost returned to being pleasant company.
And then Rude sneezes.