[pfsb+new mexico] achoo

[porcupineliz]

It's morning on the third day of a four-day visit, and they seem to actually be still enjoying each other's company. For a miracle. Today they're supposed to go exploring one of the nearby neighborhoods, and Liz went to bed last night in happy anticipation.

... and can't seem to pull herself out of the guest bed this morning.

Maybe it's got something to do with the cough and headache she seems to have developed overnight.

Comments

[porcupineliz]

"Okay."

She sits down on the bed to toe her shoes off. Changing back into her pajamas seems like an unbearable amount of work; maybe she'll just take off her jeans and sweater and crawl into bed in her thermals. Or maybe crawl into bed and then take them off.

[dr_j]

Meanwhile, Jordie has edged out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

He tosses his backpack on the couch and goes into the bathroom, picking up a clean glass from the side table as he goes.

[porcupineliz]

By the time he returns, Liz has shed jeans and sweater and is burrowed under the blankets.

She's starting to regret the sweater, as it feels colder in here than it should.

[dr_j]

Jordie fusses over by the tray -- and brings Liz two cups: one water, one hot tea.

Light: "You might want to drink the tea first, so it doesn't get cold."

[porcupineliz]

"Thanks," she murmurs, and reaches to close one cold hand around the hot tea, propping herself up on one elbow to drink it.

The heat is soothing against her sore throat, and warming once she's swallowed it, but she's still shivering a little.

[dr_j]

Jordie watches this.

And goes to the closet, to pull out the spare blanket. He unfolds it, and starts to arrange it over her, fussily.

[porcupineliz]

Liz swallows some more tea, and blinks hard.

"'S better."

[dr_j]

"Yeah?" Quiet. "Good."

His hand lingers on her shoulder.

[porcupineliz]

It feels like she's going to cry in a moment. Which is stupid, there's no reason for it, but she's just so damn tired --

She drinks some more tea, almost finishing it. Tries not to let her voice wobble too badly. "C'n you ... put the cup back?"

[dr_j]

"You bet." He takes it. "Can I get you anything else?"

[porcupineliz]

"... think 'm just gonna sleep now."

She wants him to stay until she's asleep; she's a little afraid to ask for that.

[dr_j]

It's presuming a little much, he thinks, to offer to stay until she's asleep. It might make things awkward.

So he gives her a crooked smile. "See you soon."

[porcupineliz]

She swallows.



"Could ..."

It's easier if she doesn't look at him.

"C'd you stay a little?"

[dr_j]

Oh.

Jordie blinks.

"Sure." He sounds a little surprised. "Where do you want me?"

[porcupineliz]

"... 's there a chair?"

There is: a small armchair around on the other side of the bed, between it and the curtained window.

[dr_j]

"You'll have your back to me." Light. "But I can be there, sure." He's already moving.

[porcupineliz]

"'s okay," she mumbles.

But as he circles the bed, she struggles to roll over so as to face him.

[dr_j]

Jordie settles in the armchair, tilting his head back, eyes closing.

[porcupineliz]

She thinks she says thank you again before she falls asleep. She's not sure whether or not she remembers in time not to say it out loud.

Sleep drags her down like an undertow.



Some hours later she's still asleep, but not quietly; she's been tossing for some time now.

[dr_j]

The door to the bedroom is cracked.

Jordie's got reading material out front; he's curled up on the couch, half-dozing. The remains of a sandwich are on a plate on the coffee table.

[porcupineliz]

She's been sitting too close to the fire. Her face is hot and red and so are her hands, and when she looks at them they shimmer with flames; the fire's gotten inside her somehow and is spreading there, licking at her chin and cheeks, catching in her hair.

They never actually burned witches in this country, Gran says, that was Europe. Why isn't she doing something about the fire, instead of talking history? Liz tries to ask her, but when she opens her mouth the fire curls into it and chokes her off.


(A whimper, just audible from the front room.)

[dr_j]

Jordie's head lifts.




After a moment he knocks gently, then sticks his head into the bedroom.

[porcupineliz]

In the bed, the blankets seem to have wound themselves into a cocoon around her; Liz is thrashing, apparently trying to shove the tangle of covers away.

(In the dream she struggles, but the fire's everywhere now; it's all she can see, and soon it will burn its way through her eyes and into her brain, and she can't breathe --)

Another moan; this one has the word no in it somewhere.

[dr_j]

Jordie goes straight for the bathroom, running cold water over a washcloth.

"Shh." He touches the cloth to her forehead, holding her shoulder gently with his other hand. "Liz. Wake up. Liz."

[porcupineliz]

The sound she makes is somewhere between a groan and a wail, as she struggles up through layers of fevered sleep.

Her shoulder is palpably hot, under the fabric of her thermal undershirt.