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James knew something was wrong the second he woke up and felt that Regulus was warm.
Regulus had never been warm a day in his life. He was a literal walking and breathing ice pack who just planted his hands on James’ stomach in search for warmth as he never created any of his own.
So, when the cracks in the blinds let the light from the sunrise bleed into their bedroom to rouse James awake, and there was a warm, sweaty Regulus laying on his bare chest, James was sure in an instant that Regulus was sick.
The day before, Regulus had mentioned a migraine and feeling a little colder than usual with harsh chills over his body, but he barely complained about them, so James had forgotten about them entirely. He’d just assumed they’d either gone away or would go away in the coming hours after he’d taken some ibuprofen.
James could hear Harry start to rustle and whine in his crib from the next room over, but he wasn’t sure how to get up without waking Regulus. Regulus was one of the lightest sleepers James knew, so he was sure to wake up without James under him.
That was another blaring sign of concern; Regulus was still asleep. James doesn’t remember the last time he out slept Regulus. He had always been the early riser out of the two.
When the noises from their son's nursery only progressed, he'd decided quickly that Regulus would probably rather be awoken by some light shifting rather than a full on screaming and crying baby.
With that, he carefully made his way out from under Regulus’ head and arm.
It took him a minute or two to extract himself from the bed, but he was surprised to find that he did so successfully without waking Regulus.
But it also just so happened to be red flag number three.
James took one more look at Regulus before leaving the room to go get Harry before he inevitably started crying. Regulus’ sleep-mused black curls stuck to his forehead with sweat and his brows were furrowed deeply (which wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary, but it wasn’t so common to do in his sleep). His under eyes were dark and his skin paler than usual, which was alarming. He was quite pale already.
With a frown, he left the room, opening and closing the door slowly as not to let it creak, and made his way to Harry’s nursery.
He opened the door while rubbing the sleep from his eyes and smiled when he saw Harry standing up in his crib, gripping the edges and smiling brightly when he saw James.
James cooed quietly as he walked across the room in quick strides to Harry, picking him up with ease as he kissed all over his baby’s face. Harry giggled insistently in response, binky in his mouth.
He made Harry a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and cut up strawberries, setting aside some of the eggs for Regulus in case he would be up soon. James himself usually had a protein smoothie for breakfast, but he, for obvious reasons, couldn’t start the blender, so he would just have to wait.
He sat with Harry at the dining table as Harry threw his food in all directions, getting eggs stuck in crevices of his high chair that James didn’t even know were possible to reach. James made faces to make Harry laugh while Harry tried to touch his cheeks with his wet strawberry juice and egg-covered fingers. They went on like this for some minutes before James heard thundering footsteps from across the house followed by a loud retching sound.
His head whipping toward the noise, unmistakably puking, he quickly checked that Harry was secured and strapped in his high chair, whispering an ‘I’ll be right back’ as if Harry could understand him before running to his and Regulus’ bathroom.
Upon entering, he found Regulus hunched over the toilet, arms wrapped around it in a way that would make a non-sick/germaphobic Regulus gag. His hair was damper than it was when James left the bedroom and his shirt was clinging to his back. James ran a soft hand over his shoulder when Regulus retched again, his shoulders twitching in quiet sobs.
They both waited a few minutes, Regulus still over the toilet and James’ hand still on his back, before they were sure he was done. Regulus sagged against the wall.
James ripped some toilet paper from the roll and gently wiped off some of the bile from his mouth before throwing it in the toilet. He took another piece to soak of up some of the sweat clinging to Regulus’ forehead as younger man caught his breath.
James flushed the toilet before crouching down in a position to lift Regulus from the floor.
He placed his hands under Regulus’ arms and helped him to stand. He whined in discontent and James shushed him quietly as he carried him back to their bed, setting him down on the edge.
He pressed a kiss to Regulus’ sweaty hairline. “Be right back, love. Gotta get Harry out of his chair.”
Regulus mumbled something incoherently as James exited the room, walking quickly to where he’d left Harry in the dining room. Perfectly fine and without injury, Harry stared up at James with big eyes, his tray empty.
“Look at you, finishing all your food,” James praised with a smile as he unbuckled Harry from his highchair, running him to the sink to wash his hands and taking off his bib only to throw it somewhere on the counter. He had more pressing matters to attend to. Such as his ill, fraile, Victorian husband.
He hastily carried Harry over to the bedroom and saw Regulus flopped over in what was probably a very uncomfortable position; his legs hanging off the bed while he was face down into the sheets.
James huffed and set Harry down in the center of the bed, ensuring he wouldn’t fall, before walking over to Regulus’ side of the bed and picking up his legs, gently setting them on the bed. Regulus groaned in response.
“You alive, baby?” James asked as he combed through Regulus’ knotted curls with his fingers.
James wasn’t quite sure what his response was, but it might have been something along the lines of ‘barely’.
He gave a sympathetic smile despite the fact that Regulus couldn’t see him.
He went over and fixed the blinds that had gotten tangled up, leaving the room in darkness aside from the open bedroom door filtering in light from the rest of the house.
“I’ll get you some medicine then you can go back to sleep, okay?”
There was a moan in response. James kissed his head before grabbing Harry once more.
He’d returned not a minute later and practically force fed Regulus some Tylenol and placed a glass of water on the night stand. James then removed the sweaty shirt from Regulus’ back, changing him into a new one, and ran a damp cloth over his warm, flushed face. This drew an appreciative noise out of him.
Harry, curious about his father’s ailment, crawled clumsily across the bed to pat his father’s face, babbling nonsense at him.
Regulus’ eyes cracked open, red and glassy, and he smiled weakly at Harry, running a hand over his hair.
James gave Harry about thirty seconds of curious patting before extracting him from the bed and into his arms. Even though James was just trying to keep him from getting sick, seeing that his immunity as a twelve-month-old baby was absolute garbage, Harry was none too pleased about being taken away. James rolled his eyes.
“Need anything else?” James whispered as he swept the hair away from Regulus’ forehead.
There was the barest of shakes from Regulus’ head, his curls barely even moving with how small the gesture.
“Alright. Get some rest, okay?” James caressed his cheekbone. Harry was still on his hip, quite upset that he’d been taken from Regulus’ personal space.
There was a moan of what James assumed was affirmation, and James left the man to his sleep swiftly, softly closing the bedroom door behind him.
—————————
By the time the two hour mark rolled around, James had threw away the eggs he set aside for Regulus, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stomach them, he cleaned Harry’s high chair, played with him and his toys plenty, and took Harry to the grocery store for food. Or, more specifically, soup.
Now, James wasn’t a great cook. He wasn’t terrible, but he felt like something always went wrong when he was in the kitchen. And he thought it would be nice to make the Regulus soup his maan used to make for him when he got sick as a child, but the recipe was lost with her when she passed, so he had no idea what he was doing. But hey, it was just some chicken rasam! How hard could it be?
At the market, he grabbed some ingredients he vaguely remembered were in the soup; some onion, some tomatoes and a few spices. Though, most of the spices they needed for the recipe were already at home, courtesy of James and definitely not courtesy of his French husband.
He set Harry down nearby as his little helper, taking out some chicken from the fridge that Regulus had defrosted for dinner tonight as he most likely wouldn’t be well enough to make it, and got to work.
It was extremely humbling to try and make food from scratch, even something as simple as soup, but he and Harry did their best. And by that, he means Harry knocked everything over while James frantically tried to get the proportions right. He figured he’d tone down some of the spices for Regulus’ sake, but was definitely adding them back in for him and Harry after Regulus had gotten his fill. He wouldn’t raise their son on that low spice tolerance nonsense.
Once finished, he and Harry taste tested after James blew on the spoon. It definitely wasn’t identical to what his maan would make him, but he figured it was close enough and sent a silent apology up to his mother for not having her every recipe down to a T.
He’d toasted a single slice of bread for Regulus, put a ladle-full of soup in the bowl as he suspected Regulus probably wouldn’t finished it all, and took the food to their bedroom, Harry wobbling enthusiastically behind him like the little helper he was.
He quietly entered the dark room, the loud ass fan blowing toward Regulus at full blast while the man in question looked miserable and pitiful in his sleep. His poor, dramatic baby.
James put the plate and bowl down on Regulus' meticulously clean nightstand and put a hand to Regulus’ forehead; the heat from it seeping into James’ hand.
“Reg,” he coaxed gently. He’d had to shake him a bit to rouse the man from his deep slumber. Regulus groaned in great distaste at being awoken if the glares he was giving James were anything to go by. James was quick to equip Harry in his arms, knowing Regulus could never send such a look in the direction of their baby. He was right, and Regulus’ face went slack on impact. “We made you some food, baby.”
“Yeah?” Regulus whispered with a raspy voice as Harry’s body weight went heavy on one side as he reached for Regulus. Now, James hated keeping Harry from his papa, but, again, his immune system was totally shite as a baby, and James wasn’t taking any chances of a sick baby. A sick baby was not a fun baby.
“Yeah,” James whispered as he settled Harry back on his hip to distribute his weight, using his other hand to assist Regulus into maneuvering into a sitting position. “We made you some rasam. Without most of the spices. So, I don’t know if it’s even really still rasam…”
Regulus was too delirious to follow along, but he hummed anyway. He tried to take the bowl from the night stand, but James intercepted.
He sat on the edge of the bed near Regulus’ knees, Harry still on his hip, and grabbed the bowl and placed it into his lap. He took the spoon and held it up to Regulus’ mouth.
Regulus stared at him with unimpressed brows, but James didn’t back down an inch. Eventually, Regulus gave in and ate (drank?) the spoonful. James watched his expressions carefully.
“Is it alright?” He asked as he held up another spoonful, feeling a distinct amount of deja vu from feeding Harry when he was even younger than he was now.
Regulus hummed again. “It’s good,” he said, voice still raspy. “Very good.”
James smiled widely, Regulus taking the spoon to his lips. “Good. Thank Harry, he did all the work.”
This garnered a laugh and smile from Regulus, and James laughed too.
He’d eventually set Harry down on the bed when he got too squirmy, and the little one obviously found his way to Regulus’ lap immediately while James continued to feed Regulus, despite Regulus’ protests.
The bowl was finished within a few minutes, the toast with a few bites taken out of it. Regulus declined any more than that by shaking his head lightly.
“Okay. Get some more rest, sweetheart,” James said as he stood with the dishes, pressing a quick kiss to Regulus’ sweaty forehead. “And drink some more water.”
“Yes, mum,” Regulus sighed as he laid back down against the pillows, Harry still clambering all over him before James plucked him up.
James rolled his eyes and pressed one more kiss to his nose despite his sass. Harry had also insisted on pressing a slobbery kiss to Regulus’ cheek. Regulus wrinkled his nose with a smile before petting Harry’s untamed hair.
James, with dishes in one hand and a baby in the other, closed the door behind him with his wrist as he and Harry left poor Regulus to sleep.
“Now,” James said after he threw the dishes in the sink and set Harry on the floor next to him. “Let’s add those spices back in before our ancestors curse our bloodline for the next four generations.”
Harry clapped in response.