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Kevin woke up with his throat trying to kill him, a headache to make even God cry, and a horrible, tickly feeling in his chest.
He groaned, shoving his face into his pillow for a few seconds. This was going to make practice miserable.
No one else was up yet. Even with Kevin up later than usual, there was still an hour until morning practice at six. Nicky wouldn't drag himself out of bed until absolutely necessary, though Andrew and Neil were light enough sleepers that they'd be woken when Kevin got dressed.
Today, that task stabbed his head repeatedly. Raising his arms to slip his shirt on made both his headache and his chest worse, nearly sending him into a coughing fit. Kevin stumbled his way out into the kitchen, filling a glass with water and searching for food that didn't make his stomach turn. Andrew's revolting sugary cereal looked even worse than usual, and even normal smoothie ingredients made him taste bile preemptively.
...Maybe Kevin didn't need breakfast.
It was still dark when they left the dorms, once everyone struggled through blinking awake and brushing their teeth. Another morning Kevin might have commented on the fact they should be used to this by now, but instead he just bundled into the car with the rest of them.
As they drove, Kevin could feel the horrible clamminess that came with sickness, sticking his shirt to his skin. Looking out of the window just made his head worse, so he pressed his eyes shut until they arrived.
In the locker room, Kevin got a few strange looks from his team as he put his protective gear on. They probably didn't want to catch whatever he had, but he was already on the far side of the room, coughing away from them. What more could he do?
The noise of exy sticks colliding and balls hitting the plexiglass usually made Kevin feel alive. He dreamed of that sound sometimes. But now it drove nails through his head, dizzying in its volume.
"-evin?"
Kevin breathed quickly, the court before him blurring.
"Kevin!"
Neil's hands were on his arms, pushing him to lean against the plexiglass. Kevin tried to shove him away, but found himself dropping to one knee instead, body alarmingly uncooperative. Neil fumbled with Kevin's helmet straps, cursing.
Then Andrew was there too, hand on Kevin's forehead just as soon as Neil removed his helmet. His expression didn't change much but Kevin could see the frown in his eyes.
"Overachiever in everything, are you? That's a high fever."
That would explain why Kevin was already sweating so much when practice had barely started.
"Its fine. I can play."
"The hell you can!" Wymack stood near the three of them, much more blatant frown on his face. "You shouldn't even have come here when you're sick!"
Kevin's heartrate picked up, and he snatched his helmet back from Neil, dragging himself to his feet. "I'm not that sick. I can play."
"He was coughing his lungs up in the locker room!" Matt yelled from across the court.
"And he didn't eat breakfast!" Nicky added.
They were abhorrent fucking snitches.
"I'm not that sick," Kevin insisted anyway. "I can stand."
"Any amount of sick is too sick for contact sport training."
"I can do a half-session, then." Kevin compromised.
Wymack sighed. "Minyard, get him off my court."
"You don't ask for anything easy, do you Coach?"
It might have been harder for Andrew to drag Kevin back to the locker room, if pulling too hard against him didn't make Kevin's head swim. He pushed Kevin onto a bench, attacking his neck guard to get it off.
"I can't believe you thought you could play with the flu," Neil said, working on Kevin's arm guards. "Actually, yes I can."
"I thought I could play with the flu because I can play with the flu. Its not that hard."
Neil and Andrew just shared an exasperated look.
They were opening the door to their dorm before it occured to Kevin that the two of them were also missing practice. Had Wymack signed off on that? Why? Hell, why had Neil? He lived to be on that court.
"You should be at practice." Kevin told them.
"Shut up and lie down." Was all Andrew said.
Kevin did, which felt wrong on so many levels. His bed was as comfy as it ever was, but it didn't feel that way under the knowledge that Kevin shouldn't be here, that he was supposed to be in practice-
Ravens didn't skip training because they had the sniffles. The mere idea was absurd.
"Hold that there." Neil said, putting a cold, wet cloth on Kevin's forehead. "And if you try and get up I'll sit on you."
"Body heat would just make my fever worse."
In response, Neil forced him to drink some water. Rude.
Several hours later, Kevin felt even worse than before, throat aching from all the coughing and coughing worsening because of his agitated throat. He laid on his side, trying to breathe properly.
"Here. Eat." Andrew put a bowl of something on his bedside cabinet, and Kevin turned away, nauseous just thinking about it.
"You'd only have to clean up the puke." Kevin mumbled.
"It's not like I haven't before." Kevin always puked in the toilet after drinking, thank you very much. "It'll settle your stomach. Come on."
The bowl contained some sort of broth or soup. Kevin didn't really taste it, just forced down a few spoonfulls under Andrew's insistent gaze.
"Don't you have classes?"
"Oh no. All three of us have the flu. Its awful."
Kevin barely ate anything, but it must have been enough to pass Andrew's requirements, since he let him drop back down onto the mattress. His eyes were heavy enough to sleep, but between the stress in his veins and the coughing, that wasn't going to happen any time soon.
For a while, the dorm was quiet, filled only with Kevin's interrupted breathing and the click of Neil's laptop as he got some studying done. It was nice, maybe, to have him and Andrew nearby.
"You don't have to keel over practicing, you know?" Neil looked at his laptop screen as he spoke. "No one expects you to train when you're sick or injured. In fact, please don't."
Kevin ignored the lump in his throat. "Training is important."
"Yeah. But you get more out of it if you rest and recover first. Right?"
"...Maybe."
Objectively, it was true. The most efficient practices were when you were fed and well and had an appropriate amount of sleep. The Ravens were wrong about the sleep thing, Kevin knew that now, even if it felt sacriligious to admit it.
"So you won't sulk when you're banned from practice tomorrow too?" Andrew asked.
"Shut up." Kevin said. "I'll be better by then."
"Sure you will."
Eventually, Kevin fell asleep, head throbbing, sweaty, and miserable. But he was at home and not collapsed on an exy court, which was... Better.