Chaotic Creative

It is in this that Tessa, perhaps more than anything else, has to ask for Pero’s trust. He may not be able to understand the mountain of knowledge that underpins why and how, for example, vaccines work and are safe. Tessa and Henry do their best to explain, but in the end, Pero’s consent to get a flu shot relies on trusting that the Walshes are telling him the truth.

That trust gets easier to give over time, not only because Pero comes to trust Tessa in all things as he grows to love her, but also because his experiences with modern medicine start to accumulate.

He slowly comes to realize he doesn’t have to suffer through aches and ailments like he used to. The first time Tessa notices he has a headache, she offers him two white tablets and a glass of water. And it works. His pain eases. He didn’t even know he could ask for something to treat it.

He cuts his hand helping Tessa make dinner one night. (He may or may not have been distracted by how attractive he found Tessa deftly wielding her own knife against an array of vegetables.) Tessa calmly walks him through cleaning the wound (modern hygiene has been its own set of important lessons for Pero), then places some ointment and a bandage on it. In his time, he would have worried about the cut festering. At the very least, he would expect to add a new pink scar to the collection that already covers his body. But instead, the cut heals far faster than he’d have anticipated, and his skin heals without a permanent mark.

As for illness, Pero has muscled his way through a fair number of them in his life. He didn’t have much of a choice. He’s not afraid of dying from illness; death was a daily possibility in his time, and he’d learned to live with that. The risk of his being sick is not that he’d fall to pieces, but rather that he’d be the silent suffering type who wouldn’t ask for help.

So what truly scares him isn’t the first time he gets sick. It’s the first time Tessa gets sick.

It happens not terribly long after he decides to stay. Winter is, after all, cold and flu season. And while Tessa no longer works in an office environment or has to take public transportation to downtown Chicago every day or interact much with other people on a daily basis, she does interact quite often with her niece and nephews.

Kids are germ magnets. It’s just the way it is. And when one of them gets sick, they all get sick. And when Molly, Toby, and Finn have to stay home from school, and neither Amie nor Thom can take a day off from work, and Uncle Henry is busy with his own patients, guess who comes over to take care of them?

Aunt Tessa.

And she’s happy to do it, don’t get her wrong! And she does her absolute best not to catch the nasty flu that’s currently going around their school and that they’ve brought home. But there’s really only so much one can do.

It’s a bad one this year. Despite getting her flu shot (and making sure Pero gets his), after three days of helping to look after three extremely contagious kids she wakes up the next morning feeling like she got hit by a truck. Fever, chills, aches, the whole shebang. It sucks, but hey, that’s how it goes. She’ll take her meds, consume a steady diet of soup and Gatorade, and watch daytime tv for a few days.

Pero, on the other hand, panics.

Fevers are not things that are easy to fight off in his time. Imagine what seeing the woman he loves struck down with what he only knows as plague would do to him. It doesn’t matter what Tessa and Henry have explained to him about modern understandings of illness and how to treat them. This is not an unfortunate but routine occurrence in his eyes. This is something that could kill Tessa.

She spends most of the first day asleep, her fever lowered but not broken by the leftover meds she had from the last time she’d gotten sick the previous winter. Despite trying to both reassure Pero and convince him to stay away lest he catch this bug too, Pero refuses to leave her side.

He steps out of their bedroom only once, to make his very first phone call.

Tessa had shown him how to use her phone to contact her family in case of an emergency, but he’s never felt a reason to use it until now. Every aspect of it is completely strange, each time the screen responds to his touch making him flinch the tiniest bit in surprise. But he manages to call Henry.

“Tess?” her brother says when he picks up.

“Henry. I - it’s - hello.” Pero stumbles over the greeting, remembering at the last second that he needs to hold the phone against his cheek to hear and be heard.

“Pero?” Henry’s voice turns sharp, concerned. “What’s wrong? Tessa okay?”

“She’s ill. The same pestilence as the children.”

“Ah. Same symptoms? Fever, chills, all that?”

“Yes. She’s been sleeping for a while. Tried to tell me she was alright, but she’s…Henry, she’s burning up.”

“She will be alright, Pero,” Henry says gently. “She just needs to take some medicine and stay hydrated, and she’ll-”

“You don’t know that!” Pero barks, fear making it come out harsher than he intends. “Henry, please, just - will you come? She’s your sister, and she is…she’s my…”

He takes a deep, shaky breath.

“Please. I don’t know how to help her. I don’t know what to do. But you do. I need you to make sure she’s okay.”

Henry is silent for a moment, and seems to grasp the larger context of Pero’s fear.

“Of course I’ll come to check on her. And I’ll bring over some things that will help. Give me an hour or so.”

“Thank you.” Relief laces Pero’s voice. Henry snorts.

“Please, she hasn’t let anyone properly take care of her while she’s been sick in years. Now I have an excuse to baby my stubborn baby sister. I should be the one thanking you.”

Henry arrives with his arms laden with soups, sports drinks, ice cream, and several boxes of meds. Tessa grumbles first at being roused from her nap, then at the sight of her brother.

“Fuck’s sake, Hank,” she groans into her pillow. “It’s just the flu.”

“Good afternoon to you too, dear sister. What a pleasure it always is to see your lovely face.”

Tessa rolls over just enough to glare at him with one glassy, fever-glazed eye.

“It’s just. The. Flu. Courtesy of those little gremlins we’re related to. It’s gonna suck for a few days but then I’ll be fine. You should be taking care of your actual patients who really do need your help.”

Henry cajoles her into sitting up a bit, then slips both his stethoscope and a thermometer from a coat pocket.

“Really, Hank, there’s no need – ”

“Tessa,” he says lowly, and the serious note in his voice makes her pay attention. “I’m here because Pero called me. He’s worried, Tee. I think you’re scaring your boyfriend a little.”

Tessa’s gaze jumps to Pero, who’s lingering in the doorway. The way her expression completely softens would make Henry roll his eyes if he weren’t so damn happy his sister had finally found someone who loved her the way Pero did.

“I’m sorry, Pero,” she croaks. He shakes his head vigorously and comes to sit on the other side of the bed.

“Do not apologize, mi amor.” He tenderly pushes her hair back from her sweaty forehead. “Just please let your brother do what he must. I will not take chances when it comes to you.”

The fight instantly goes out of her. Henry checks her vitals and makes her take another dose of medicine, letting his healing Gift soothe the worst of the body aches and calming her chills. Once she’s drifting off to sleep again he briefs Pero in the kitchen.

“Meds every four hours, check her temperature as often as she’ll allow you. Make sure she keeps drinking, and try to get her to eat something when she wakes up. If her fever doesn’t break in the next 36 hours, or suddenly spikes, call me.”

Pero nods, looking more serious than Henry has ever seen him, which is saying quite a lot about a man who essentially invented resting bitch face a thousand years before anyone else.

Henry gives the other man’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“I appreciate you calling me, Pero. But I promise Tessa is not in any danger. We just live with these things now; we don’t die from them.”

Pero shifts his weight from one foot to another.

“It is…difficult. After a lifetime of seeing people die from what starts as the smallest wound or barest cough…but I trust in your knowledge.”

“As I trust that you would do anything to keep my sister safe,” Henry returns warmly, gathering his things. “You better just hope that those protective instincts don’t drive you completely insane once you two have kids.”

Henry is out the door before Pero can think of a response.

Tessa sleeps fitfully that night, but Pero is even more restless, hyper aware of every time his love tosses and turns. Her fever breaks sometime in the early morning, and she wakes completely drenched in sweat. He helps her into the shower, settling her onto the bench on the far end of the glass-enclosed stall. She’s still paler than she should be, but her eyes when she looks up at him are clear.

A smile tugs at her lips as he gently washes her hair, then her body. His large hands remove evidence of her sickness from her skin, and the tight knot of anxiety in his chest loosens as he rubs a soapy cloth along each part of her.

“You know,” she says wryly, “under slightly different circumstances I’d be two seconds away from jumping your bones right now.”

Pero huffs at the unfamiliar phrase.

“If that means what I think it means, you have a few days at least before you are up for such things again, mi amor.”

He coaxes her to lean forward against his chest so he can wash her back.

“Pero?”

“Mm?”

She loops her arms around his neck, stilling his movements.

“I love you.”

The knot in his chest unravels.

“As I love you, angel.”

“Thanks for taking care of me.”

He pulls back to look at her.

“You do not have to thank me for such a thing, Tessa. I will always take care of you.”

She nuzzles back into his chest, fatigue starting to wear at her again.

“I’ll always take care of you too, Pero,” she mumbles sleepily into his skin. He feels it sink into his bones like a vow. He resumes his task, mindful of finishing before the water runs cold.