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The worst part is, Vex was really looking forward to this date.
It had been less than 24 hours since she went out with Percy the first time, and while that evening had ended perfectly wonderfully, she couldn’t deny that the idea of going out with him on a proper date, one that both of them knew and agreed was a date from the beginning, filled her stomach with something disgustingly akin to butterflies. Vax claimed she spent the evening in a twitterpated haze, but really, he was one to talk. The third time Vex caught herself rereading a text from Percy and smiling, however, she had to concede that her brother may have a point. Still, she couldn’t help but look forward to the coming dinner with an anticipation she hadn’t felt in a good long while.
So when Vex woke up the next morning with a cough like a Victorian consumptive and a fever of 101.5 degrees Fahrenheit, she was understandably put out.
Her first step was calling in sick to work. Asum had been her boss for long enough that he was fine with her taking off, assuring her that yes, the army surplus could manage without her for one day, which was true. It wasn’t like Asum couldn’t stock the shelves himself, if worst came to worst.
Her second step was convincing her brother not to call in sick for work. “I don’t have to go,” Vax said. He’d already felt her forehead, taken her temperature, and made her soup. This after she spent five minutes insisting that no, she didn’t need to go to an emergency room. He had proceeded to spend most of the day keeping her wrapped in blankets on the couch, running back and forth from the kitchen to get her more water or crackers, and generally acting like a mother hen until it was close to the time when he usually left.
Vex rolled her eyes. “Go to work, Vax,” she said, her voice hoarse. “You only just started at the museum, you can’t take off this soon after getting hired, they’ll fire you.” Working the night shift as a security guard wasn’t the most thrilling opportunity for Vax, but it paid well, despite the odd hours, and Vex knew her brother found the steady income as much of a comfort as she did. They’d both spent too much of their lives struggling to make ends meet to take gainful employment for granted.
Vax frowned. “I could get one of the others to cover my shift. Thorbir, maybe, or Aldor. I’d owe them a favor, but-”
Vex cut him off. “Honestly, brother, it’s just a cold, it’s not like I’m about to drop dead. Trinket and I’ll be fine while you’re gone, I promise.” Hearing his name, Trinket came over and shoved his nose under her hand to demand pets. She obliged, causing Trinket’s tail to begin flapping back and forth, smacking into the side of Vax’s leg.
Vax stepped out of the range of destruction, his brow still furrowed. “Are you sure?” he asked.
Vex flapped an arm at him “Get out of here, go get paid. I’ll be right here when you get back.”
Still frowning, Vax sighed. “Alright. But if you get worse, if anything happens-”
Vex groaned. “I’ll call you, get out, Jesus Christ.”
And Vax went to work. Which left Vax with her last task before she ate soup and binge watched documentaries until she passed out: cancelling her plans with Percy. She had hoped, faintly, that taking the day off would mean she was recovered enough to go out by the evening, but if the cough still wracking her body and her lethargy were any indication, she would make a terrible date. Groaning, Vex grabbed her phone and typed out a text.
not feeling well, gonna have 2 cancel 2nite. try again later this wk?
Vex bit her lip. Was that too abrupt? Should she try and sound more disappointed? Or was that too desperate?
Next to her on the couch, Trinket woofed. Vex shook her head. “You’re right, buddy, I’m overthinking.” Before she could second guess herself, she pressed send.
She sat for several minutes, ostensibly watching the next episode of “How It’s Made” in her Netflix queue, and definitely not checking her phone every thirty seconds to see if Percy had replied. When five minutes had passed with no response, she snorted.
“Whatever,” she told Trinket, tossing her phone to the other side of the couch. “If he doesn’t want to go out anymore, that’s his problem. It’s fine.”
Trinket looked unconvinced by Vex’s feigned indifference. She distracted him with head scratches.
Fifteen minutes into the segment on frying pans, there was a knock on her apartment door. Vex paused the episode, slowly rising from cocoon of blankets on the couch. She padded over to the door, peering through the peephole. Her eyes widened at the figure on the other side, and she yanked the door open.
Standing in the hallway outside of Vex’s apartment was Percy. He had a plastic bag in each hand. Vex blinked at him.
“What are you doing here?”
Percy held up the bags. “I brought food. And medicine. And movies.”
Vex blinked again. Then she stepped aside. “Come on in.”
He did, toeing off his shoes as Vex shut the door behind him. “You’ve met Trinket before, yeah?”
Percy eyed Trinket, who was sitting a few feet away, head tilted as he took in this unexpected development. “Ah, yes.” He pushed his glasses up his nose, blinking a few times. “We’ve been introduced.” Still holding the bags, he extended one hand in Trinket’s direction. After a moment’s consideration, Trinket stood and walked over to sniff Percy’s hand. His tail began to wag, and he whuffed in approval before heading over to jump back up onto the couch.
Vex crossed her arms and leaned back against the closed door. She watched as Percy took in the nest of blankets on the couch, the empty bowls scattered on the end table, and the veritable pharmacy of cold and flu medicine on the kitchen counter. “I had hoped to bring some things to make you feel better,” he said, moving to the counter to set down his bags, “but you seem to have it well in hand.”
Vex shrugged. “My brother worries.”
Percy nodded. “I imagine he does.”
There was a moment of silence as Vex looked at Percy and Percy didn’t look at Vex. He coughed, pushed his glasses further up his nose. “Well, I should probably-”
“Why are you here, Percival?”
He blinked, hands settling from their nervous tics. “What do you mean?”
She sighed. “Why did you come? This-” she waved a hand at the scattered used tissues, the detritus from a full day of illness, “-can’t be your idea of a good time.”
“Well, you canceled our date.” Vex knew he said it as a joke, his voice that arch dry tone that he always used when he was stalling or trying to steer someone away from a sensitive topic, but the hint of blame, however unfounded, still made her swallow hard and look away. She hoped for a moment that Percy hadn’t noticed her reaction, but of course, Percy was nothing if not perceptive.
“Honestly, Vex-” he moved to face her, hand reaching out towards her face for a moment before settling on her shoulder instead. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He smiled, a little self-deprecating. “I’m no good at this bedside manner thing, I apologize, but… I just wanted to see you.”
Vex thought for a moment. She looked back at Trinket, flopped down across the entire couch, and raised an eyebrow. Trinket tilted his head consideringly, tail wagging faintly in contemplation, before giving her a soft whuff of approval.
Vex nodded. “Alright. You can stay.”
Percy blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“You can stay.” Walking back to the couch, she shoved Trinket’s butt until he hopped down to the floor, heaving a great doggy sigh and giving her big weepy eyes at his mistreatment. She ignored him and sat down, patting the now empty cushions next to her. “But you can’t complain about what we’re watching, and you have to make me soup if I ask.”
Gingerly, Percy sat down next to her. “Very well. But I warn you, my soup-making skills have, historically, left something to be desired.”
Vex rolled her eyes. “Relax, Percy. I’m not going to kick you out if you fuck up making soup.” She glanced over to find Percy sitting ramrod straight, hands folded in his lap. She leaned over, bumping his shoulder with hers until he looked at her. “Hey. I’m not asking you to Florence Nightingale me or anything. No pressure.”
Percy smiled. “I know. It’s just…” He trailed off, searching for words. Without thinking, Vex reached over and took his hand. He squeezed gently, a thanks for the support, before continuing. “It was always my mother or my older brother who took care of things when one of us was sick. I’m afraid I don’t really know what to do, myself.”
It was the most Percy had ever said to her about his family. She hadn’t even known he had an older brother.
“When I was little our mother used to make us soup.” She didn’t know why she said it. It wasn’t like Percy needed her trying to one up him in tragic backstory revelations. But looking at him, she could tell it cost him something to be open with her, the same way it had cost him something to tell her how he felt. She wanted to give him something in return, but more than that, she wanted him to know things about her, too, for no better reason than knowing them. From the softness in his expression as she talked, she thought he understood.
“When we were small, I got sick all the time,” she said. “Vax never did, which I still don’t understand, because shouldn’t we have the same immune system-” Percy chuckled at that. Vex allowed herself a grin. “But I got everything. Strep throat, measles, whooping cough once. All the classics. And Mother had this soup she made, she said her mother used to make it for her, and hers for her, and on and on and on.” She shrugged. “I mean, who knows, she might have just gotten a recipe off the back of a can, but she always made it whenever I got sick.” She chuckled, a memory coming to her. “Vax was always bugging her, trying to get her to tell him how to make it, but she never did. She always said she would, when he was older, but…”
She trailed off. Slowly, Percy let go of her hand and put his arm around her. She leaned into the half-embrace, dropping her head to his shoulder with a sigh. “I’m tired,” she said. She didn’t have to say it was more than just the weariness of an illness running its course. Percy understood.
Percy’s arm tightened around her, and she looked down to see Trinket resting his head in her lap. She scratched behind his ears, feeling the rumble in his chest pressed against her legs. “Well,” she said, picking up the controller and restarting the episode, “I hope you’re interested in frying pans.”
Percy settled back against the couch, arm still wrapped around her shoulder. “I haven’t given much thought to them, honestly, but…” She felt a slight pressure against her hair as Percy dropped a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I could be persuaded.”
Vex fell asleep sometime in the middle of the third episode. She woke to Percy nudging her shoulder. “Hey,” he said, voice soft in a way she hardly ever heard. “What say we get you to bed?”
Vex nodded blearily, leaning into Percy’s arm around her waist as they made their way slowly back to Vex’s bedroom. She flopped onto the bed with a sigh, burrowing into the covers. From the door, Percy coughed, a polite little sound. “Well, then,” he said, and she couldn’t see him, but she’d bet all the money she had that he was slowly turning pink, “I should probably- I mean, now that you’re- You don’t need me to-”
With a bit of struggle, Vex extricated herself from her blanket burrito enough to roll over to face him. “You can stay,” she said, drowsiness bringing the words to her easily. “If you want.”
In the dim light bleeding in from the other room, his hair was almost glowing. She reached a hand out towards him, pleased to see that it wavered only a little before he took it in his. “Alright,” he said. “Budge over.”
Vax returned to the apartment at 7:30 the next morning to find the TV paused and Trinket asleep on the couch. He toed off his shoes, then crept back to his sister’s room to check on her. Peering in the door, he found Vex curled around Percy, nose buried in his white hair, both of them fast asleep.
Vax sighed and closed the door. He turned to find Trinket standing behind him, head tilted inquiringly. “You’re right, buddy,” Vax said, leaning down to give Trinket a quick scratch behind the ears. “At least it’s not Scanlan.” And with that, he went to the kitchen. He was thinking pancakes for breakfast.