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“Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.” (#18)
There were many things that Anders was increasingly beginning to find were endearing traits in Fenris. And while he was still trying to wrap his head around using ‘Fenris’ and ‘endearing’ in the same sentence, it was easier than trying to confront his feelings for the other man head on.
Anders could tell as soon as he’d seen Fenris the other man was sick. The fevered look in his eyes, the way he used every building, wall, post, they came across as a crutch. It was the clinician in him he supposed.
Always observing.
He watched Fenris suddenly jerk, and shift on his feet.
A shiver, Anders summarized.
He was not looking good.
“What do you say, Anders?”
“Pardon?” Anders looked over at Hawke and blinked.
“We call it a night, get some drinks at the Hanged Man?” Hawke answered.
“Oh, I think I’ll pass this evening,” Anders replied. “I thought I might have the clinic open this evening. With the weather…” He trailed off and briefly glanced at Fenris before looking back at Hawke.
“Do you need a hand?” Hawke offered.
“I think I’ll be okay,” Anders chuckled. “Go, drink, I’ll be fine.”
“What about you Fenris?” Hawke asked. “Drinks?”
“I think I might call it an early night myself,” Fenris crossed his arms over his chest.
“Alright, suit yourselves,” Hawke shrugged. “I will have a drink in both of your honors. Don’t work yourself too hard Anders alright?”
Anders waited until he was sure Hawke was out of view, and earshot. He wondered if Fenris was doing the same, but judging from the way he was swaying on his feet it was for an entirely different reason.
“Come on then,” Anders walked over and wrapped an arm around Fenris shouldering some of his weight.
“I’m fine,” Fenris protested and started to pull away.
He stumbled and Anders quickly uprighted him before he face planted the ground.
“Oh yes, so very very fine,” Anders made sure he had a secure hold on him.
“Where are we going?” Fenris asked.
Anders could practically feel the heat radiating from his body. He had to give Fenris credit, he was very good at letting on that he was fine.
“My clinic,” Anders answered. “Watch your step.”
“The mansion is the other way,” Fenris frowned.
“True, but I highly doubt I’ll find anything of substance there,” Anders told him. “You look like you’re barely holding on. And as a doctor I can’t let that stand.”
Fenris only grunted in response. Or coughed.
Or both.
Maker, he really was burning up. Walking was not going to cut it.
“Fenris, I’m going to do something, and I know you’re not going to like it, but, it’s going to happen,” Anders said in warning.
He waited for a response and when none came took that as a sign to continue and picked Fenris up. He was lighter than he looked, armor and all and he grabbed onto Anders.
“What are you doing?” Fenris glared at him.
Not as intensive given his feverish appearance. Anders adjusted his hold and began walking again, being mindful of the stairs.
“I’m carrying you,” Anders answered. “At the rate we were going, it’d be close to morning by the time we reached my clinic. Don’t worry I’ll put you down soon enough.”
“S’warm,” Fenris coughed and shivered.
“You’re burning up, everything feels warm,” Anders replied.
The walk to Darktown took longer than Anders would have liked, but they made it in one piece. He was careful not to jostle Fenris too much as he laid him down on one of the empty makeshift beds and covered him with a blanket.
He boiled some water, and then cooled it down before dipping a cloth in to get it wet and laid it on Fenris’s forehead. Next he set about mixing up some medicine. He checked on Fenris every so often, rewetting the towel when it began to dry up, cooling him off.
He was startled out of the comfortable silence as Fenris suddenly jerked away, the tattoo’s of is body glowing brightly, hands clenched tightly into fists.
“Woah, easy,” Anders held his hands up as he moved towards Fenris slowly.
“Anders…” Fenris broke out into a coughing fit.
Curling in on himself as he shivered under the blanket. Anders brought him over some water and rubbed his back.
“Why are you doing this?” Fenris asked hoarsely.
That was a good question. Anders supposed he could play the doctor card. As big as their differences were, he couldn’t let Fenris suffer. But he knew, and maybe Fenris knew. It was more than that.
“Here,” Anders went back to the table and brought over the medicine he’d made “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”
Fenris eyed it, briefly, before taking the cup and downing the liquid in one go. He coughed again, partially from the illness, partially from the taste, and handed the cup back.
“Just rest alright?” Anders tucked the covers around Fenris again.
“What about your clinic?” Fenris looked at him bleary eyed.
“Don’t worry about it,” Anders answered. “Just rest.”
He reached down and smoothed his fingers through Fenris’s hair. Rewet the towel and settled in for the night to work on his manifesto.