Work Text:
Phyllis clutched the tray hard. Her forceful steps echoed as she ascended the staircase, muttering to herself.
The door to Julienne’s room was closed but for a small gap. Phyllis used her foot to push it open, using a little more force than was strictly necessary.
Julienne was sitting up in bed, propped up by several pillows. Her habit and wimple lay neatly folded on a chair, as they had since she had taken to her bed the previous week, struck down by the flu which had worked its way through the inhabitants of Nonnatus House. Her skin was waxy and her face pale, apart from the dark circles under her eyes and an irritated redness around her nose from frequent nose blowing.
She was wearing her nightie and cap, but was also wrapped in her dressing gown and tucked in under several thick blankets.
She was reading, but looked up as Phyllis entered. Phyllis’s brow furrowed as she laid eyes on Julienne, frustration quickly morphing into concern. “Are you cold?” she asked, while also making a mental note to fetch some Vaseline to soothe Julienne’s chapped nose and lips.
Julienne gave a genuine but tired smile. “Just a little chilled. But it will pass.” Her voice was hoarse and congested from the illness that had wracked her body for well over a week now.
“I’ll make you up a hot water bottle once you’ve eaten,” Phyllis said decisively. “How are you feeling?” she then asked, placing the tray over Julienne’s lap.
Julienne eyed the tray, frowning. “Certainly well enough that dinner in bed is not required.”
“Not that I don’t appreciate the gesture,” she continued, “but if you’ll recall, I’ve had both breakfast and lunch downstairs today.”
“I do,” Phyllis said. “I also recall you coughing up a lung while making it up the stairs afterwards. Something I would like to avoid seeing repeated,” she continued dryly, adjusting the cutlery on the tray in a slightly passive aggressive manner. “And besides, we both know that the only reason you were downstairs in the first place is because of our visitor,” she added, unable to hide her contempt when uttering the final word.
Julienne did not respond. She averted her eyes, plucking at the blanket until Phyllis finally broke the silence with a sigh.
“Go on, eat. Before it gets cold.” Her tone was softer and she managed a small smile. Julienne smiled back and gave a small nod.
As Julienne reached to put away her book on the nightstand, Phyllis gently pressed the back of her hand against Julienne’s forehead.
Julienne made a sound of incredulity and swatted her hand away, but couldn’t suppress a smile. “I am feeling much better. I promise.”
“Mmh. I’ll believe that when I see you taking more than ten steps without getting winded,” Phyllis retorted, arching an eyebrow.
“I’m-” Julienne began, but her voice cracked, and she turned to the side and coughed.
“I’m on the mend,” she managed once she’d shifted the congestion slightly.
“That may very well be the case, but you have been quite unwell. And you’ve not recovered as much, or as quickly, as the rest of us,” Phyllis said seriously.
Julienne’s expression was somewhere between stricken and ashamed, as if the reason she wasn’t getting better was that she hadn’t tried hard enough to do so.
“Go on, eat your dinner,” Phyllis said, pulling up a chair to the side of the bed. Julienne picked up the cutlery and slowly started cutting into the meat and potatoes. “I won’t leave until that plate is empty,” Phyllis said, her tone more joking than she felt. Julienne really did need to build her strength back up.
They sat mostly in silence as Julienne ate, as Phyllis didn’t want to distract her. But when she caught sight of the book on the bedside table she grinned and couldn’t stop herself from making a comment.
“The Garcia Lorca I lent you?” Phyllis said, surprised. She picked up the book, turning it over and flicking through the pages before putting it back. “I didn’t expect you to actually read it,” she admitted.
Julienne chewed and swallowed before she answered. “I hadn’t, until now. But I’ve been having trouble concentrating for any length of time, so the bite-size nature of the poems works well. And I must admit they have been a nice distraction,” she said with a hint of a smile.
They sat in companionable silence while Julienne slowly but surely worked her way through her meal. Towards the end, progress was only made at a snail’s pace, and it was also clear that Julienne was flagging. Phyllis decided to put her out of her misery.
“I think that’s enough for now,” she said. Julienne looked relieved, placing the cutlery neatly together on the plate. Phyllis moved the tray over to the desk. Julienne reached for a handkerchief and blew her nose, before turning to cough. Phyllis winced at the sound of the chesty cough, as she could practically hear how painful it was.
“I can’t believe you’re even contemplating going,” Phyllis snapped.
Julienne grew serious. “It isn’t my choice. You are well aware that I have taken religious vows. And in case you’ve forgotten, that also includes the vow of obedience. I must go where I am called.”
“Yes, but it’s not you being called to the Outer Hebrides, is it? It’s all because of-” Phyllis said, but was interrupted by more coughing.
Julienne turned her head and coughed harshly. She had only just turned back to face Phyllis when she had to do it again. Then it happened once more, until the coughs strung together into a fit. She raised her arm to cough into a closed fist, while the other hand was pressed firmly against her sternum.
Phyllis looked on feeling helpless, her heart clenching.
As the coughs ebbed away however, rage rose within her. “That’s it. I’m going to talk some sense into Mother Mildred,” she growled, storming off in the direction of the door.
“Phyllis. Please,” Julienne pleaded, her voice breaking.
Phyllis halted and looked over to Julienne.
Julienne reached out and put her hand on the blankets, gently patting the empty spot next to her on the bed.
“Please,” she repeated. “Could you just hold me?”
Phyllis let out a deep, quiet sigh. Her shoulders relaxed as anger melted away, giving way to a much more overpowering feeling.
She threw a glance at the door to ensure it was closed, then nodded, softly saying, “Yes. Of course.”
She walked up to the bed, peeling back the blankets. Stepping out of her shoes, she sat on the bed and swung her legs up under the covers, scooting nearer Julienne and wrapping her arms around her. She leaned in and kissed Julienne’s feverish temple, before Julienne shifted down the bed slightly and rested her head against her shoulder.
“I’m just worried about you,” Phyllis said, gently resting her chin on top of Julienne’s head.
“I know.”
“I want to look after you.”
Julienne leaned her head back and met Phyllis’s gaze. “I know. And you are.”
Julienne rested back against Phyllis, nestling in close. Phyllis wrapped her arms tighter around her, wishing she could shield her from all harm.
After several moments of silence, Julienne spoke, her voice quiet and sleepy. “Could you read to me? Please?”
Phyllis felt overwhelmed by the warmth that flooded her chest. She tilted her head down, placing a kiss on top of Julienne’s head before reaching for the book on the nightstand. “Of course I will.” She opened the book to where the bookmark had been placed, whispering, “I would do anything for you.”