Archive of Our Own

“Ahh, drat.” Green complained, as they began to feel little pellets of water dropping down onto them from above. Rain. 

They were midway through collecting their worm’s castings as it went from lightly raining to properly heaving in the span of a couple minutes.

And in retrospect, they probably should have taken this as a sign that they should go inside. Collect the castings later, once all the rain had dried up, and just accept the fact that this was going to put a little delay in their work schedule. But then they worried that if they started delaying one thing, then they would start delaying other things, and before they knew it their families whole business had been affected.

(Their father sold fertilisers, made from the castings collected from their own worms. It wasn’t a particularly bustling business, but it was able to feed and clothe all seven of their children. And Green did their part, too, occasionally helping around the shop whenever they were asked to. But mostly they just helped with the worms, collecting their castings so that the other people in the family could do the rest of the work. They assured their father that they were going to get the castings to them, so they sure as hell were going to do it.)

They really, really didn’t want that. They were well aware that their parents wouldn’t react the way that they did in their head. “That’s alright, as long as you’re okay.” They would say, rubbing an arm down their child’s shoulder. But they didn’t want to set things back for the sake of their own comfort, cause disruptions without a particularly valid reason. 

Comfort? Who needed comfort? They were perfectly fine without it. 

They resolved to keeping up the rate that they were going. It wasn’t like a little bit of rainwater was doing them any harm, though it was definitely making the casts muddy and more complicated to deal with. And besides, then they wouldn’t have to worry about it later, whining as they stared out the window like a dog not allowed to go outside. It sounded like a pretty obvious sacrifice to make, at least in their determined mind, as they nodded resolutely dipped their head back down. 

This had taken a little longer than they expected. Though they weren't explicitly aware of the passage of time, considering the fact they weren’t wearing a watch, the gradual sagging of their clothes betrayed the progression of time all the same. Too long.

Or maybe there wasn’t anything different with the way that time passed. Because there was one important factor in the matter.

“...wow.” They breathed, looking a little taken aback, “I hadn’t realised how many I had left. It’s… that’s alright.”

They’d been closer to starting than to finishing when the rain had started up. As if the rain had forgotten that it was meant to come down before Green had decided to come out to work, therefore inhibiting them from working, and decided that later was better than never. Or maybe this was meant to be the consequence of attempting to farm while there were dark clouds rolled over the sky. But the work stopped for no one. 

They hummed with idle contemplation, dedicating themselves to working a little faster. One of their hands reached up to push wet hair out of their face as their bangs started to become stringy, slicking back behind their hairline without any need for gel. At least the rain was giving them something.

At some point, their mother had called at them from the patio, asking them when they were planning to come inside. The children had already scattered inside, making them the only one that they had to worry about. They eased their mother’s nerves by telling them that they were going to be done any minute now, though by the time that they had filled up their first batch of castings, they were sure that the interval of time they could have walked in to prevent that from happening was long gone. 

They stashed the batch away and headed back into their home. Their parents simultaneously tried to both help them peel off their wet clothes and get them to sit down so they could have a hot drink, and Green eventually opted to getting changed, and then having the drink afterwards. Their parents seemed perfectly alright with that compromise. 

They had felt fine that evening. Maybe they were still a little shivery even in their new clothes, but that hadn’t been that big of a deal, not when their dad had put on a fire in the fireplace that they were able to sit close by. But the time that the morning had come, Green had started to feel a little different than normal.

They woke up with a sore throat. One that gulping down a large cup of water when they practically sleepwalked to the kitchen hadn’t been able to remedy, one that swallowing made obvious wasn’t just a regular sore throat. They tried to think back to the days before, if they had perhaps talked too much for too long, and they were starting to lose their voice.

They hoped not. Green was a few days out from getting to spend time with White again, and they were super excited. They hadn’t wanted anything to go wrong, and a sore throat slash missing voice was definitely not going to help. How would they be able to talk to White if they weren’t able to speak? They would have to write everything down, or make hand gestures hoping that White was able to make an educated guess on what they were trying to say.

Green hadn’t really considered that there were any other options. They had a pretty good immune system– spending all that time around dirt and worms had given them the kick that they needed to power through cold seasons. And they would have thought that more symptoms would emerge than just a sore throat. Well, other than the muscle aches, but that was probably because they slept weird. Anyway, it just meant that they continued with their regular functioning without batting an eye.

They didn’t think to mention it to White, either. Even if they weren’t all the way there, they were sure that they would be all right by the time that they were going to go and see White. It would be like nothing ever happened. 

Unfortunately for them, it hadn’t gotten any better. 

The night before their time with White, their throat felt like it had almost been completely scratched away. Even worse still, their nose had clogged up, so they sounded like a 40 year chain smoker whenever they talked. The aching feeling had intensified, spread out throughout their whole body. And on top of all that, they were coughing. 

They found themselves wanting to sleep a lot more than usual. They took naps throughout the day without even planning to. But no matter how long they slept for, they weren't able to shake that bone deep exhaustion they had carried throughout the days. Nausea spells began coming over them.

Green learned much too late that they had gotten sick. And it really, really had been a shame. 

Green was proud of White. 

Of course they were. They’d been doing so well for themselves. 

They’d been working hard to be more attentive to other people. And Green was one of the first people that they tried to be more attentive to, which made them feel nothing short of spoiled. Trying to listen more to what they had to say, doing things that Green knew they didn’t want to do but sucked up anyway because Green had wanted them to do it. They had even let Green benefit from the things that they were fortunate for. 

Such as their memory. It had become a well known fact in their relationship that Green’s memory was not particularly great. They would forget things that they were told not even a couple of minutes beforehand, and would need to be told again. This was probably great for keeping secrets, but not for when there were important things that they actually had to remember. White, fortunately, had begun reminding them of things on their behalf. 

“My chauffeur will be picking you up at 10 AM tomorrow.” White told Green over the phone, “You should be ready before then.”

“Got it. 10 A.M.” Green croaked, solidifying the reminder in their mind. 

“Everything alright?” White asked, “Your voice sounds a little funny.” 

Green was briefly horrified upon being caught. They forced out a laugh to try and mask their throat clearing.

"Yeah." They answered, willing themselves to sounding as normal as possible, "My phone might just be breaking up, that's all."

"The phone signal outside your farm isn't particularly good…" White commented thoughtfully, trying to decide whether they accepted the answer or not.

"Nope! It's really hard to get a good connection out here." Green responded, suddenly feeling sweaty on top of their recurring heat flashes.

"I suppose that makes sense." White relented. Thank gosh for them, "I can still hear you, at least."

"Well, thanks for the heads up." Green hummed, "I'll be waiting at the door sharp at 10!"

"Good." White spoke, "I'm looking forward to seeing you."

Throughout their conversation, Green had to mute their microphone a couple of times so that White wouldn't be able to hear them cough. There was this nervous feeling inside of them that White hearing them cough would cause them to postpone or even cancel their time together, and that was the furthest thing from what they wanted. They simply told White that there were a lot of people walking around their house whenever they were muted for too long, and chugged some more water from the cup beside their bed whenever White was talking.

They were still telling themselves that they were going to be fine the time that they got into the limousine they'd be picked up in, even though the whole thing had been looking a little bleak. There hadn't been a single break in their symptoms— a single day where they had been feeling better instead of worse. Not even a couple hours, other than when they just woke up from one of their naps and the aches and pains hadn't started kicking in yet.

But they would be fine, they were sure of it! As long as they got a good night's rest, maybe drank some water and took some painkillers before they went to bed, they would be feeling right as rain when they woke up! Because that was definitely, definitely how… whatever they were ailed with worked.

They spoke with White until they had decided that it was time for them to start getting ready for bed, listening to them list off things they got to do that day that sure sounded a lot nicer than Green's did. They responded with gasps and 'woah's until they told White they wanted to go, to which they didn't give much protest. Apparently, them being 'sleepy' had been obvious, and their go to answer had been, "You got me."

Green had gone to bed early that night. White hadn't been entirely wrong— they had been sleepy, even if they weren't chatty for other reasons. As soon as they had gotten into their pyjamas (or what they considered their 'pyjamas', though they were just a pair of lounge pants and a t-shirt) and finished a quick brush of their teeth (in the dark, when the lights had been too painful), they collapsed onto their bed and fell asleep within a couple of minutes.

Green woke up in the middle of the night, disoriented. And not just once, several times. They found themselves not being able to breathe, trapped in a cycle of snuffling and choking when they inhaled through their blocked nose, and coughing whenever they tried to exhale. They went to find some tissues one time, wandering in circles when apparently someone had moved them without telling them, but nothing had come out once they snorted into the tissue. So they were just stuck— not being able to breathe.

They retreated back to bed, laying on their back and staring at the ceiling. There were a couple times where they fell asleep, but then woke back up within the hour when they found themselves struggling to breathe. A headache slowly began to form, agitated by the constant stopping and starting of their sleep cycle. The kind of headache in the middle of their head that they could just feel painkillers wouldn't be able to mend, like their mind was throwing a tantrum. And at some point, it had been becoming increasingly difficult to not start getting frustrated themselves, holding one hand over their forehead.

"Come on… I need to be up early tomorrow." They murmured to themselves, staring up at the ceiling as though the ceiling was going to be able to do anything to help. They received no response as they whined and rolled onto their side, "Alright… I've still got..."

They stared at the clock beside their bed, telling them that it was a couple of minutes past one.

"…a couple of hours until I need to wake up. I can do this." They resolved, shutting their eyes once more.

At that point, falling asleep started getting… weird. It had stopped being the process of closing their eyes and breathing deeply, and they had started waking up right before they fell asleep for apparently no reason at all. Their mind was starting to tell them that they were 'sleeping wrong'. but every time that they moved into a different position and tried again, it just kept on happening. Their brain wasn't letting them to go sleep at all, as they forced out more coughs or tried to remedy the soreness pounding on their skull like a hammer.

Green was not able to tell you the time that they actually fell asleep. And stayed asleep, that is. They had been in this limbo state between the real world and the dream world, and time felt like it passed differently. Like they were back in their school days, where it felt like time stretched on forever until they were able to be dismissed.

Green was a relatively good student as far as school was concerned, but they still happened to make small, almost entirely unintentional, mistakes.

Because they woke up to someone knocking on their bedroom door. There was some light spilling in through their window and underneath their bedroom door, but they had initially chalked it up to the fact that they had slept a little later in than they usually did. A little make-up for all the struggles that just getting to sleep that night had given them.

But then they heard a voice call out to them, and their blood had ran cold.

"Green, your partner's here." Said their father.

…

Oh my god, seriously?

They finally snapped their head towards their clock, where they saw that it was somehow 10:05 AM.

How had they slept that long?? How could this have even happened??

"O-out in a sec!" They squeaked out, tossing their bedsheets off and scrambling out of bed.

Their vision started going black at the sudden movement, but they didn't let that stop them from standing up. They didn't have time— they could rest when they were back home from their meet-up, not right now! They hurried over to their dresser, where they pulled on the first things that they were able to tug out of the respective compartments.

They were out their bedroom door before they were even fully in their clothes; they were still trying to pull up their trousers and get the fly up as they were staggering towards the front door. They passed by their father as they were moving back into the living room, who let out a startled sound as they had to side-step out of the way of their child's bulldozing stride. Then there was a pause in their pacing that Green couldn't look back and inquire about.

When they arrived to the door, grabbing the handle and pulling it open, they were panting. Their posture was sagged as their legs started feeling too weak to hold up the rest of their body, and their chest felt like it was being crushed by an invisible weight.

"White!" They greeted, sounding utterly out of breath and not to mention worse than they did yesterday.

"Woah." White stared, momentarily looking bewildered. Green glanced up at White to see that they were dressed as prestigiously as usual, moments before the sun suddenly beat down on their skull. They quickly looked down, unable to handle it, "That's… a look you've got there."

"I…" Green trailed off as they stared at their outfit, noticing how bad it actually looked. None of their articles of clothing matched, and they were only wearing one sock somehow. They see themselves in their own reflection through a mirror and realise that their hair is obscenely greasy, streaking back in unbrushed clumps, "I…um…"

Tears began to fill in their eyes.

Everything hurt. Every single fibre in their body was aching, like they were playing jump rope with their feelings and losing substantially. And they looked far less gross than they actually felt on the inside, crusty and groggy and all around very ill.

"I'm sorry!" They wailed, all of their emotions bursting out at once. They spotted in the corner of their eye that White's posture appeared to change, but everything was too blurry to figure out what was going on. White wasn't mad, were they? Please don't be mad, "I tried so hard to be up and ready on time. But nothing worked, nothings going the way I want it to, and I can't— do anything about the pounding in my head! It hurts so bad!"

"Oh, gosh— okay, c'mere." White instructed awkwardly. Green collapsed into their arms, sobbing like a child. At the very least, Green managed to wipe the snot on their sleeve, as to prevent it from getting on White's designer shirt. But the tears were uncontrollable, "Did you just wake up?"

"Mhm." Green whimpered, "I never wake up this late. 'M sorry-"

"-I wasn't accusing you of anything." White intercepted, which meant to say 'don't apologise'. They pat their back weakly a couple of times, "What's wrong with your head?"

"I don't know— it's just sore no matter what I do. I've slept, I've had water, I've had painkillers, it won't—!" Green broke off from White to turn away and cough into their sleeve. Several times.

"You're sick?" White asked, their voice unreadable. They were worried about germs, probably— whether or not Green would infect them with whatever germ was festering inside of them, "Why didn't you just say that?"

"I didn't want to worry you." Green sniffled loudly, wet enough that it made Green wince a little, "Cause then you'd feel bad, and I'd feel bad, and we'd both feel bad!"

"But I do feel bad." White blinked.

Green whimpered, "Well then now I feel bad!"

"Green— oooh. Eugh. Nope— alright." White attempted to cup Green's cheeks, but they were so tearful and sweaty that they weren't able to do it. They instead placed their hand down on Green's shoulder, where they idly lifted up the lopsided fabric to adjust it. One of their shoulders had been spilling from the side of their hoodie, "I feel bad because you didn't feel like you could tell me."

"What would you be able to do about it?" They murmured, "Other than cancel… but I didn't want that!"

"I've got a private doctor on call." White stated casually, as if this was a normal thing to say, "I could get them to take a look at you. On me."

"I… don't know if I really need a doctor." Green wiped the tears from their face, "It's probably just a cold, or something. I just don't know what to do about this headache."

"That's exactly why you need a doctor." White said with finality, "Go on, get your shoes on."

"Why? Shouldn't I just stay here?" Green asked, confused.

"I'm not going to let my partner sleep on flat pillows while they're congested. You're supposed to keep your head elevated, remember?" White explained. Oh. Green supposed they were the one who was involved in pharmaceuticals, "So get your shoes on. You okay?"

"Yeah." Green sniffled, scuffling over to the shoe rack by the door and fumbling to put their trainers on.

"You really aren't doing well, are you?" White commented, watching the entire process with something close to pity.

"Not really." Green coughed, wobbling back onto their feet, "Sorry. I know this definitely isn't the way you thought your day was going to go."

"It can't be helped." White held onto Green's elbow, helping them to keep up, "Any idea how you could have caught it?"

Green pressed their lips together, silent for a couple moments before something came to mind, "I did stay out in the rain for an hour a couple days ago."

"…ah. Well that's probably got something to do with it." White stifled a grimace.

They lead Green out the house, into the shining sun.

Green yelped like a wounded animal. Their head pounded harder.

"What's wrong?" White asked quickly, looking over to them.

"The sun is… really bright today." Green squinted, lowering their gaze.

"Then, you should borrow these." White plucked the sunglasses that were folded over the collar of their shirt.

"Are you sure?" Green glanced between the sunglasses and their partners face.

"Of course I'm sure. I wasn't using them, anyway." White held the sunglasses a little higher.

"'kay." Green murmured, placing the sunglasses over their eyes. The world was plunged into a much more manageable darkness, their headache briefly retreating, "This is a lot better."

Green and White kept moving in the direction of the parked limousine, with the driver standing just outside the door with a trained patience. The two of them moved almost gratingly slowly, Green holding onto White like they were a lifeline, but no one commented on it- made Green feel any more embarrassed than they had to.

Green did not remember anything after sitting down on one of the sofas beside White. White hadn't moved very far away once they got settled, and hadn't even said anything about the proximity between them. Or if they had said anything, Green just hadn't picked up on it, their senses gradually becoming more dull.

Green woke up when they were shrugged off White's shoulder.

"We've arrived." White said, standing up as much as they could with the roof above them.

Had they slept through the whole trip?

And were they asleep on White? Why weren't they saying anything? Green would have at least expected some grumbled commentary about how they were intruding on their personal space.

But then they remembered who their White was.

Green stood up a few moments later, wiping their face as well as some of the lingering embarrassment. They push up the sunglasses that had been slowly slipping down their face, bracing themselves for the sunlight that they would soon be coming back into. White's limousine had been a lot darker and more comfortable, which probably explained the impromptu nap.

White walked a little ahead of them, pausing to glance back when they noticed that Green was sagging behind, hacking what sounded like it could have been a hairball of phlegm up their throat.

"Alright, we'll get you set up in bed, then see what the doctor thinks." White mentioned, waiting for their partner to catch up.

Green stopped beside them, "Bed? I thought I was going to sleep on your sofa."

"Don't be silly, Greenie." They scoffed, "You deserve a bed to rest in. Besides, it would be really inconvenient to bring down a pillow and blanket just to bring it back up again."

"Don't you have someone to do that?" Green asked, as the two began walking beside each other again.

"I mean to say that I'm not letting you sleep on my sofa. That's unbecoming." White corrected, a little exasperated.

"Ah, alright."

White hadn't explicitly clarified to Green that when they were borrowing a bed, they were borrowing their bed. As in, the master bedroom bed. They had them laying down on the opposite side of the bed that White appeared to use, plumping up the pillows underneath their head.

"Your bed is massive, White." Green mentioned, their eyes raising to their partner's chest while being half-glazed. Staying alert felt increasingly difficult today.

"You say this every time that you're in my bed. I'm aware." White spoke lightly, and Green blinked tiredly as the reminder came to them sluggishly. That was right. They'd slept in White's bed enough times that they surely should be used to the size of it, but every time they acted like it was the first time they had seen it.

"Do I? Whoops." Green smiled bashfully.

"You do." White responded, stepping back and reaching their hand into one of their pockets, "I'll go call my doctor. I don't want to see you getting out of bed until anyone says you can."

"What if I need to go to the bathroom?" Green called after White as they left into the hallway, watching as they stopped, their shoulders raising and falling tensely.

"Then go." They answered simply.

"But I thought you said I can't leav—"

"—You know what I meant. Unless you need to get anything out of yourself. Especially if it's vomit."

"Duly noted."

White took the opportunity to finally leave the room, as Green's gaze gradually drifted to the ceiling.

Silence followed between each cough, sniffle and sneeze. Not really awkward, just… supple? Malleable? White's mood was wafting through the door which was still open just a crack, quick to swing one way or the other based on the way that their phone call went.

"I need you to get over here as soon as you can." They spoke, presumably to the person over the phone. Unless they were changing their mind again, "It's an emergency. …no, my partner's sick. You need to check them."

A pause. White sounded a little more agitated, "So what? This is what I pay you to do. If you won't, then I have no issue finding another doctor. I have plenty of connections."

Another pause. Green wondered what the doctor was saying. "It doesn't matter how much it costs, you and I both know I have the money for it. They're already fine with it, so you don't need to worry about that. Just get over here. Thank you."

White groaned after a moment, signifying the end of their phone call. Within a few moments White had re-entered the room, holding a small, digital thermometer in their hand that they approached Green with.

They pressed it against Green's forehead, staring intently at the little screen and waiting for it to beep. Green smiled dopily all the while, their head feeling a little fuzzy but still feeling happy.

"I feel better already." They commented, just as the thermometer beeped.

White pulled it away, reading off the screen and then looking sceptical at Green, "I don't think you do. You have a fever."

"I really do," Green answered dreamily, "I love you so much."

"Why all of a sudden?" White stared, placing down the thermometer on the bedside table, "You're not delirious, are you?"

Green hoped they weren't. Because they wanted to have just heard White fight for them against some doctor that they didn't even know the name of, wanted them to love them so much that they did that for them without asking. It meant that they were right by their side, looking out for them, and that made them feel really special.

"I don't think so." Green fiddled with the bedsheets, "Can I get back to you on that? Either way… I just wanted to say it."

"I love you t-"

Green sneezed in the middle of their sentence. White stopped completely, a little caught of guard. They'd clearly been trying not to be grossed out by their partner being sick, all for the sake of helping them, but watching them sneeze onto their bed was definitely testing them.

"—wait, wait. Keep going." They sniffed.

"I love you, Green." White repeated, wavered, "I'll go get you some tissues."

And yet somehow, White hadn't gotten sick of them.

A doctor had arrived about half an hour later. An older person that really looked the part, with drooping facial hair and a dull expression on their face. They were polite to Green when they examined them, though, which was just a little surprising. But they didn't protest to the gentle handling.

As they examined their symptoms and asked them questions about how they were feeling, White lingered by the door supervising. The doctor had asked them for a little space while they were checking over their partner, and this had been the compromise that they had come to, observing Green and then averting their eyes whenever they were caught staring for too long. Even then, Green was able to tell that they were worried. And their chest panged a little, trying to give them a smile the next time that they caught their eye.

Apparently they got the flu. That was what they picked up on when the Doctor reported back to White. Their concern seemed to at least slightly remedy when White learned that it wasn't anything bad, though they still looked at their partner with a conflicting gaze as they laid in bed.

That didn't mean that they were doing well. In the small period of time that White had allowed Green to raid their tissue box, they had already used and crumpled up enough tissues that they were falling off the bedside table, and yet still weren't particularly able to breathe. They kept moving around restlessly, moving the satin bedsheets on and off their body when they got too hot, then too cold, repeat cycle every couple minutes. And they kept trying to find a way to lay their head down on the pillow, but despite the luxurious quality, they frequently found their position to be causing them pain.

"It feels like there are little needles stabbing my head." Green said, the one time that White rested their hand on Green's shoulder to try and get them to at least somewhat settle down.

"Really? This is very comfortable material." White answered, their hand going to the pillow to check the fabric just in case. Smooth and silky, like they expected.

"But my head isn't comfortable right now!" Green whinged. Their eyes flickered up to White like a sad dog, then down, "Sorry… I don't know what came over me."

While love made the symptoms a little more manageable, they did not make them go away.

"Do your eyes hurt?" Green squinted.

"…wait there." White left the room without saying anything, and Green was oddly unbothered. They heard the sound of rushing water from a tap before their partner returned shortly afterwards, wearing gloves, "You're gonna take a bath."

They're not asking them, they're telling them.

"Why?" Green tried to sit up, but began struggling shortly after, "Lil help—"

White placed their hands on Green's back and helped them to prop themselves up against the bed frame, "Why not would be a better question. You're drenched in sweat and you're sore. Sounds to me like you need a bath."

"That sounds like too much work…" Green murmured as White's hands slowly slipped off them.

"That's why I'm gonna help you." White answered, "Obviously."

"Then…" Green started, eyeing the gloves, "What are those for?"

"I'm offering to bathe you, not getting anything on my hands. You know I love you, but you gotta work with me here, dear." White said blankly, holding their gloves up. It was better than nothing, at least.

Once the bath was filled up enough, the pair began a slow trek to the bathroom. Green had disposed of their hoodie a little while ago, pulling it off when they started getting too hot. But now that the air was hitting their exposed skin, they began shivering.

"It's freezing." They complained, huddling closer to White.

"Your skin's burning up." White argued back with their hand on Green's arm. Green found that incredibly hard to believe.

"Am I? No…" Green felt their own arm, just below where White's hand was, "No, I'm definitely cold."

"I'm telling you, you're hot." White answered, fixing Green with a firm look, "You 

"Maybe you're right, I… I don't know. Can you make sure the bath is warm?" Green pleaded pitifully, their hand dropping to their side.

"As long as it's not too warm." White answered, pushing open the bathroom door once they arrived, "You'll make your fever worse."

"Awhh…" Green whined.

"I know, I know. I love a warm bath too." White shushed, patting their shoulder.

Inside the bathroom, a towel was heating on the radiator. The bath was about half full with mounds of bubbles. The fluffy things caught Green's eye once they had tugged their shirt off.

"Are those bubbles?" Green asked.

"Lavender infused bubble bath, naturally." White responded, with just a little cockiness, "Only the best for you."

"Gee, I don't know what to say." Green murmured, flattered.

"You could get in the bath." White suggested, gesturing to the ever-tempting body of water.

Green hummed, removing their bottoms and their socks before slowly stepping into the bath. They had to balance themselves on the wall for support, lowering down until the bubbles were up to their chest.

White knelt down and squeezed out a slightly generous amount of shampoo onto their hand, "You know, this stuff is formulated for hair repair."

"Oh." Green's head bobbed as fingers in their hair lightly started caressing in soap, "I didn't realise my hair was broken."

White snickered, "I just meant that your hair will feel pretty good when it's dried. This is the good stuff."

"And you're letting me use it? Wow…" Green marvelled.

Gloves aside, this was a very pleasant experience. White had delicate hands, and their light massage work made a simple groggy bath time into a spa experience.

"It's the least I could do. Can you lean back?" White guided them down to the water, washing the soap from their hair. Streaks seeped into the water, "Don't you get it by now?"

"Get what?" Green echoed confusedly, shimmying back up the edge of the bath once White removed their hands.

"I'm not just giving you things because I'm nice… even though I am pretty nice," White continued before Green could pipe up with their affirmations, "I'm trying to take care of you. But you still act like I'm just lending you things while you're around."

"Is that not it?" Green questioned.

"Of course that's not it! Do I have to spell everything out for you?" White sighed, reaching out for a loofa, "You're lucky you're so adorable. Do you want the vanilla or the citrus body wash?"

"Citrus, please." They requested. White picked up the respective bottle, applying the body wash onto the loofa.

"You can keep this." White said, taking Green's arm and scrubbing it with the loofa, "Loofas are one of the few things I cannot share. That's too unhygenic."

"Isn't it yours?" Green inquired, and White tsked.

"I use a different one. I have plenty in my cupboard. You know, as you do. You never know when you'll need more." White accounted. Green can't exactly relate, but they supposed they could see the logic in it. That was like them and their dozens of hoodies.

Green took a deep breath out as White progressed on their body. They move whenever they're asked to, not particularly bothered by the gentle nudging, Though they definitely sunk a little when they were left there too long, looking like a melting bean.

The water was making their muscles feel a lot more relaxed. And them, too. Man, they were tired.

"Back to bed with you." White announced after some time, towel in their hand as they eased their partner up.

When the water disappeared from around them, that freezing chill came back full swing. They allowed their partner to wrap the towel around them as they stood their pathetically, not feeling all the way there and trusting White to help them out. Their touch was so intimate despite Green feeling far away, the care reaching them all the way from— wherever they were in that moment in time.

White helped them back to the bed, where they laid on top of the sheets in their towel. White removed the gloves from their hands, putting them in the nearby bin without second thought, as though Green has encapsulated all of their consideration at the moment.

"Stay put." They reminded, firm but not unkind, "There's a couple things the Doctor said I need to get for you. Then I'll have my chef cook you some soup."

Eugh… eating.

Green hadn't thought about food once this whole morning, even when they hadn't eaten any breakfast or lunch. They knew that they needed to eat something, but considering their stomach had not been spared from the body pains, they couldn't get behind the idea of it.

"I don't know if I'm able to eat right now." Green spoke as they weakly began to curl up into themselves.

"You have to eat something. Oh, but it doesn't have to be limited to soup. My chef can make anything. But, just letting you know, they do make really good soups. Almost makes having a fever worth it." White explained, though Green's expression hadn't changed.

"I've not got any appetite…" They murmured, and White must have tuned into the pain that was in their voice, as they looked briefly conflicted. Have things their way, which they perceived to be the right way, or listen to their partner's needs as they came.

"Okay…" They muttered, their tone sounding like they were about to present a business deal, "But, medicine on an empty stomach may make you feel worse. So how about my chef makes you some soup, and you just try some?"

"Why does nothing ever work out for me?" Green whinged, "But… I do want some painkillers for my head. Can they make carrot soup?"

"I can make them make carrot soup." White assured, "Nevermind the best carrot soup you've ever tasted. Or they're fired."

"I wouldn't go that fa—" White was already gone before Green could finish.

Huh. So threatening to fire people was something that they did a lot, wasn't it? Maybe that was a top of the food chain thing, as they just sat there in a towel waiting for their next meal. During the wait, they'd been given a fresh, iced cup of water, and aided into a pair of White's pyjamas, just as silky as the bedsheets were. A cold compress was pressed onto their forehead, subtly luring out the headache from their skull.

A tray with some soup and some painkillers were brought into the bedroom and placed on their lap. The presentation of it was mouth watering, but their mouth may have been watering from other reasons. Smooth and creamy, with a little herb placed on top. They really, really would have been fine with just some soup from a can, poured into a bowl and shoved into the microwave for a couple minutes. But they knew that White wasn't going to settle for anything as trivial as that. Of course the soup had to be home made, with ingredients White could ensure the highest quality of. Also, did White HAVE a microwave?

As Green began to struggle with holding and scooping the spoon, worried to drop soup anywhere on the bedsheets, White surprised them by taking the spoon from them.

"Let me help you with that." They said, swirling the spoon around in the soup before lifting up a spoonful and extending it out to them. White looked offended by Green's confusion, "What? I'm perfectly capable of holding the spoon. So I can do it for you."

"N'aww, thanks." Green crooned, before turning their head to cough. Their expression contorted uncomfortably, "I think you should put the gloves back on, actually."

"Yep." White didn't even protest, moving to collect another pair of disposable gloves. At least that gave the soup a little more time to cool down as it continued to sit on Green's lap, which they occasionally blowed on to speed up the process.

Hands now protected from cough germs, White made another attempt at feeding Green a spoonful of soup. This time, they closed their lips around the spoonful and swallowed it down without protest from their immune system, albeit still with an upset stomach.

"Ooh. You were totally right— this is good. Do you want some?" They waved the spoon towards White.

White onlooked quietly, not bringing the spoon any closer to their mouth, most likely because Green had already ate off it.

"It's yours." They decided upon instead, "Maybe I'll have some made for me later."

"Mm. Well, ask them to make carrot." Green encouraged, claiming the next bite.

This process continued until they had eaten about half the soup, declaring that their stomach was really not able to manage any more. Though despite that, they'd taken about three more bites, saying that they felt bad about wasting any more food than they had to. White insisted that it was fine, that this was hardly wasting, but until the soup had essentially been pried from their hands as they whined about their stomach hurting, they hadn't really listened.

They were handed their painkillers instead. Like two extra little helping hands to combat their illness, that they swallowed down with large gulps of water.

And between the cosy remnants of their bath (White was right that they would feel good) and the dulling of the painkillers, they found themselves dozing off before they knew it. They were still relatively congested, but it was like the medicine had helped to compromise with their brain at least this once.

Before they fell asleep, they thought about the comfort that they had been surrounded in, by White and everything White had done for them. This had been a whole lot better than wallowing in their own self misery back in the farm house.

Maybe they did need comfort, after all.

White returned from disposing of their tray to see that Green was already fast asleep. It hadn't even been five minutes.

They were sprawled on their back, and every so often they were snuffling.

They stared at their partner's bangs as damp strings adhered to their forehead. They would have offered to blow dry it for them, trying to support their head in the process as they sat there dazedly. It probably would have been complicated and aggravating, but they would have still done it anyway. But that seemed like it was out of the window now.

They didn't want to disturb them.

White stepped closer, one hand reaching out, and they slowly sweept Green's hair from their face. They didn't stir, though they let out a small sigh.

And carefully, with lingering hesitance—

they planted a small kiss on the top of their partner's head.

"Rest up, Greenie." They whispered, pulling the bedsheets a little higher over them.