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Rain viciously battered the dirty window. It was a miracle Henry hadn’t been roused by the crashing thunder or the steady hum of the fan that had lulled him to sleep in the first place. Dystopian storms were punishing, like everything else in the city, and Jasper supposed sleep was a precious commodity not offered to him tonight.
The walls were thin, so Jasper knew Charlotte wasn’t sleeping either. He’d texted her an hour ago, when the tossing and turning hadn’t stopped, and her curt response – “fine”, told Jasper she most certainly was not. He’d made a point to not hear her head to the bathroom, but noted the faint, unmistakable sound of retching over the cacophony outside. That was strike two. Now, Jasper was almost positive, fifteen minutes after she’d returned to bed, that he could hear crying. Enough was enough.
Jasper rolled off his side of the bed as quietly as possible. He glanced back at Henry, who remained still, before he padded into the hallway using the glow of his phone screen as his guide. He knocked softly on the next door.
“Hey Char? Can I come in?” No response, although he could hear her breath hitch in a futile exercise of control.
Jasper took his chances.
“I’m coming in, okay?” he half-whispered, before opening the door. His heart sank as he saw Charlotte curled up into a half-crescent across her mattress, her blankets pushed to the side. Her hair was pulled up and wrapped pineapple style, and her face was clammy and contorted in agony as she took shallow breaths.
“S-sorry-” she muttered, her breathing labored. “Did I wake you?”
Jasper ignored her. “What can I do to help?” he asked.
“Actually, hold that thought.” He took note of her surroundings and left her briefly, before returning with a refilled glass of water. He took up space at the foot of her bed, where she eyed him tiredly.
“Are you good to sit up?” Jasper asked, concerned. He slid towards Charlotte and pulled her up so she leaned against him before handing her the cup of water. He reached toward her nightstand.
“It’s been at least four hours since you took one of these, right?” Charlotte nodded, and he handed her a pill.
When she swigged it down, Jasper sat quietly by her side and let her lean against him, reaching over to rub her back.
“I’m good,” she said, through gritted teeth.
Jasper almost laughed. “What are you, Henry? Come on, Char. You were throwing up earlier, and now you’re in so much pain it’s making you cry.”
“You heard that?” she groaned. “Sorry, I-”
“-Stop,” he said gently. “We’re not doing ‘I’m sorries’ right now, okay?…has it always been this bad?”
Charlotte shook her head.
“It’s ramped up since we got here. Probably the stress and lack of sleep,” she mused. Here was the Charlotte he knew, always trying to rationalize things and pathologize her suffering. Jasper stroked her cheek.
“You look like you have the plague,” he said simply.
“I feel like I have the plague,” she retorted, a smile flashing through her pained expression. “I feel like my organs are being put through a meat grinder.”
“I do not envy you,” Jasper cringed at the imagery. That didn’t sound good.
“Do you want me to stay?” he asked.
“No, God, Jasper, I’m fine. It’s just a period. I’ve been doing this for like, five years now.”
“I know I can’t help with anything,” Jasper said quickly. Charlotte was brilliant and self-sufficient. There was so little he could do for her most of the time. “But... you just said it’s gotten way worse these past few months, right?” Charlotte didn’t answer.
“The sheets are a mess,” she groaned. “And I like, need the whole bed,” she answered rationally.
“That’s fine. I’ll wash the sheets in the morning, no biggie,” Jasper answered breezily. Compared to what he had seen in the elevator and downtown time and time again, this blood was nothing.
“And, okay. I’ll just hang out here until you fall asleep.”
“But-”
“Think about it,” Jasper interrupted gently. He pried the lukewarm water bottle from her hands.
“I’ll be right back,” he answered her feeble protests, as he tucked the bottle under his arm and lowered Charlotte carefully back down onto the bed. He tied up the takeout bag that lined her small trash can. Charlotte groaned, mortified.
“You’re good,” Jasper reassured her. “Look, it’s all contained. Plus, if you get sick again, which, knock on wood, you don’t, I want you to have a clean bag to throw up in.” Charlotte whimpered. It was so unlike her that Jasper grimaced in sympathy. She must have hated this. Jasper retreated, giving her a moment to regroup.
The water on the stove was close to boiling, so Jasper refilled the rubber bottle and grabbed a sleeve of saltines from on top of the fridge. When he got back to Charlotte’s room, he replaced the trash bag, handed her back her hot water bottle, and wiped her face with a cool, damp paper towel.
“That feels nice,” she murmured, as her box fan blew onto them both. Jasper laid at the very edge of her bed, giving her maximum space as they gazed at each other.
“Look, Char, I know I’m not an expert on these things, but you shouldn’t be puking and crying all night. Maybe we can go to the clinic together and-”
“-can we not right now?”
“Sure,” he said warmly. “But, maybe in the morning, after we both get some sleep. Deal?”
“Deal,” she sighed.
“Jasp, unlike Sleeping Beauty next door, you haven’t gotten any sleep yet,” Charlotte whispered, giggling a bit as the medication gave her some reprieve.
“Neither have you,” Jasper whisper-retorted back, relieved that Charlotte looked slightly less in pain.
Jasper remembered something.
“Hey, do you want me to find your little lobster buddy?” he asked.
Charlotte rolled her eyes fondly. “No, I don't need you to get up and find my Menstruation Crustacean right now,” she insisted. “Water bottle’s good enough. Thanks for refilling it.”
“We’ll grab him tomorrow. I know you like him because the beads are heavier and he stays warmer longer.”
Charlotte smiled and shook her head.
“Go back to bed,” she whispered.
“I will,” Jasper promised. He didn’t want Charlotte to have to worry about taking up less space for him. “Can I hang out until you fall asleep?” he asked.
There had been more vulnerability shared between them over the past year than the thirteen years that preceded it.
“Permission granted,” she breathed, her eyelids beginning to droop. “You don’t have to, though.”
“Char, I want to.”
When she reached for him, Jasper moved closer and rubbed circles onto her back until she fell asleep. True to his word, Jasper let her have the entire bed. It didn’t stop him from sleeping on the floor next to her, though, in case she woke up and needed something.