#fragolinaa

“I know, Bug,” Aaron said gently, pulling Spencer closer to him as his eyes stayed locked on the field. It was getting colder as the season went on, and Spencer was shivering, so some extra snuggles were in order.

“I wanna go home,” Spencer whined, flopping down so his head could lay in Aaron’s lap. 

Aaron ruffled his hair. “I know, Bug,” he echoed. “The game’s almost over. I told Derek we’d try to stay for the whole thing. There’s four minutes left.”

“That could take a million years,” Spencer mumbled, and when Aaron’s hand paused against Spencer’s scalp, he noticed how warm his ‘little brother’ felt. 

His mouth tugged down into a frown, and he looked over at Alex, but she wasn’t watching them. She was buried in her book, her back against James’ side while he watched with rapt attention. James liked to give Derek specific praise after his games – something he said that Ned always did for him – and while it was sweet, it made him oblivious to the world for the two hours they were on the bleachers.

“Bug?”

“Mhm?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Spencer nestled further into Aaron’s lap, the tip of his thumb between his teeth. “Mm. ‘m cold.”

Aaron sighed. Spencer ran mystery fevers all the time, and they usually found out the cause later in the night, or the next day. Some cold, or flu, or worse, a stomach bug that reared its ugly head and made them all stressed out for a week, and usually got Aaron sick, too, in the process.

He thought for a second before stripping off his hoodie, and then laying it over Spencer like a blanket. Spencer sighed in relief, snuggling into it and balling his fists in the soft, blue fabric.

“That help?” Aaron asked, and Spencer nodded sleepily, closing his eyes as he turned his face into Aaron’s stomach. 

“Uh huh. Thanks, Bubba.” __________

Alex

They’d been fighting about it for five entire minutes.

“Birdy, come on.”

“I’m fine, Aaron. Leave me alone.”

Aaron, not Bubba. I really must have done it this time.

“I won’t,” Aaron said, moving to try to stop her as she marched down the sidewalk. “You’ve been trying to dodge us all day, I barely caught you now, and I had to ask Penelope for your work schedule.”

“How did Penelope get my work schedule?”

Aaron gestured vaguely, moving again so he was in front of his pseudo-twin. “Penelope could find the president’s schedule if she wanted to.”

Alex rolled her eyes, not moving to push back the hair that was blocking some of her face from his view. She always pulled her hair away from her face, she’d said once that it was a sensory nightmare, but she didn’t have a headband or a clip pulling it back, and it wasn’t in a ponytail or a braid like she usually did.

“Are you mad at me? Is this about Spencer? Because if you’re mad at me, you shouldn’t be avoiding everyone, just tell me what I did.”

Alex huffed, pushing past him again. “I’m not mad at you, you’re reading into it.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, but then used his lank to his advantage, stepping in front of her again. He put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her in place, and bent a little to look her in the face.

“Birdy, please, come on. Spencer’s worried, he doesn’t know why you’re avoiding him.” When he said it he knew it was a low blow, but he was starting to feel anxiety like bubbles popping in his chest. “I told him I’d make sure you were at dinner.”

Alex looked up at him after a second, some of her face still blocked by her hair,, and if looks could kill, he would have been six feet under.

“Let go of me, Aaron.”

“Alex–”

“I have homework to do. I’ve got too many things–”

Her words cut off as she shuddered under his hands, goosebumps erupting on her arms as she shivered in weather that was already too warm for him to be wearing his hoodie in the first place.

“Woah,” he said reflexively, “Are you… cold?”

She shook her head quickly and shivered again, before tucking her face away from him, and he didn’t even think as he reached out and gently grabbed her chin, turning her head so he could actually see her face.

When he did, everything clicked into place.

“Holy shit, Alex, you look awful.”

She frowned, and to his horror, her lower lip started trembling. “Stop, Aaron–”

“No way, Bird,” he said, the popping of anxiety in his chest going from slow moving bubbles to sparks like fireworks. “No wonder you’ve been a ghost today, you should be in bed, not running around trying to dodge us.”

“I’m fine,” she tried to say, but it was painfully obvious she wasn’t, and Aaron took a second to breathe before he was rubbing his hands up and down her arms, trying to help somehow. He was good at taking care of Spencer, but Spencer was ten.

Plus, Alex was usually the one taking care of him, and Spencer, so how was he supposed to do anything to help her?

“We should… find James. I’ll text James. He can meet us back at my room, and he’ll know what to do.”

She started to protest, but as she shivered harshly again, all of the fight seemed to go out of her. Her eyes started to fill with tears, and she nodded slowly. 

“Okay.”

He thought for a second before unzipping his hoodie, and he helped her thread her arms through the sleeves before zipping it for her. It hung like a dress down to the middle of her thighs, but she didn’t seem to notice, or felt too awful to care.

After a moment she leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his torso and burying her face in the fabric of his shirt. 

“Thanks, Bubba.”

“Of course,” he said automatically. “Of course, Birdy.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, too.” __________

Haley

“You don’t have to do this, Ari. It’s sweet, but you’re gonna–”

“Hay, James said you probably should be with someone to watch your fever. It’s fine, I don’t care about getting sick. I care about you.”

Haley sat next to him on the bench outside of Roosevelt house, her head laying against his arm as he tried to coax her into following him back to Lincoln house. He’d thought she was acting weird at dinner, and by the time she’d finally admitted to him that she wasn’t feeling all that great, Alex and James had taken Spencer back with them and the others, granting them enough privacy for him to convince her to let him help.

She’d fought going to the nurse harder than he thought she would, but he’d been able to convince her to on the thermometer in his backpack, normally reserved for Spencer. After that he’d called James, and she’d already gone inside and grabbed a tote bag with the things she thought she might need.

When she’d gone in she’d been wearing his hoodie, which he’d given her even after she’d protested that she was going to get germs on it, and he’d fully scoffed. Odds were he was going to get sick anyway. When she’d come out with her bag and was still wearing it, he’d told the bees in his stomach to knock it the fuck off.

“Harper just…” she turned and muffled a cough into her elbow, but he finished the thought for her. “Is the worst?”

She laughed and shook her head, clearing her throat before speaking again.

“She just gets really freaked out about getting sick and missing class, and missing cheer. It’s like, she would rather die.”

“That’s a little dramatic,” Aaron said simply, rubbing Haley’s back. She’d started shivering again, and it was making him anxious. “People get sick all the time. Spencer and I get sick all the time. You’ve got like, a cold virus or something, and it’ll go away.”

Haley turned and raised a weak eyebrow at him. “A cold virus, or something?”

“I don’t want to be a doctor,” he said simply. “I want to be a lawyer.”

“A man with ambition,” she said, teasing him, but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it. She was more miserable than she was letting on. “I like that.”

“And I like you feeling well,” he said, standing up and offering her his hand. “Come on, Haley. It’s alright, I promise.”

She looked up at him, glassy eyed and fever flushed, and sniffled quietly before taking his hand and letting him help her up. He grabbed her bag, even though she protested, and couldn’t help but feel a swell of fondness at the fact that his hoodie dwarfed her, the sleeve pooling around their connected hands while the other completely covered her hand. He nodded towards it, giving her a shy smile.

“When JJ’s cardigans do that to Spencer’s hands, she calls it ‘Sweater Paws,’ like he’s a kitten.”

“Are you calling me a baby?” She said, but she laughed listlessly, so he knew she wasn’t serious.

“It’s cute,” he said, trying and failing to not blush like a moron.

“Well, maybe I should wear your jackets more often. Not just because I’m so cold.”

“You’re hot.”

“Wow. Forward.”

“I mean–!” He blushed darker, fumbling for the right words. “You know what I meant! You have a fever!”

“I know, I shouldn’t be giving you a hard time,” she said, leaning her head against his arm as they walked. “Thanks for letting me stay. I feel silly about it.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I already said it, I don’t care about getting sick. I care about you.” ___________

James

James was raising an eyebrow at him, though it looked misplaced on his pale yet darkly flushed face.

“Your hoodie won’t fit me.”

“Try me,” Aaron said, holding it out to him. “Or do I need to help you put it on?”

James grumbled, taking it from him. “This is silly.”

“You’re the one that tried to hide in a study room to finish homework instead of calling your dad and telling him to pick you up in the first place.”

“I didn’t know Penelope had tagged us.”

“Well,” Aaron said, “Yeah, the ethics on that are sketchy. But how else was Alex supposed to find you when you didn’t show up after classes let out? And then no one could find you for two hours until Penny finally ratted on herself!”

He hadn’t meant to get a little loud, and only noticed when James winced and rubbed at his temples, but James was usually their rock. The fact that he’d been the one to go MIA hadn’t sat right, and he’d been fighting off the anxiety ever since.

“I didn’t mean to worry everyone,” James said quietly. He’d pulled Aaron’s hoodie on, which had stopped the fever chills a little bit, and had fit, which Aaron had known it would. It was just baggy enough in the shoulders to fit James’ broader ones. “I wanted the opposite.”

“Well you got the not-opposite,” Aaron said, way too flustered to think of a good retort. Instead he stared at James longer than was appropriate, and was startled when someone honked their car horn.

“Shit,” he said at the same time that James said, “Stars,” like they were in a southern sitcom.

“Jeff, cut it out!”

Ned was walking up to them, concern etched onto his face, while Jeff, his best friend and bakery partner, was sitting in the driver’s seat of the van, sheepishly waving and mouthing “sorry.”

Aaron liked Ned. Ned was a good dad.

“Mini, why in the world would you have stayed here feeling bad when you know I would’a come to get you right quick had you called? Alex sounded worried out of her mind.”

“That’s just Alex,” James said, but Aaron watched him quickly wilt as he laid eyes on his dad. “It’s not that bad.”

“He’s got a fever over a hundred n’ one,” Aaron said, his accent strengthening the second he heard Ned talk. “He’s full’a crap.”

Ned nodded at Aaron, ruffling his hair before he grabbed James’ backpack off the ground. “Thanks, Bubba. Charlie’s anxious to get him back. Mama’s worried.”

He said it in James’ direction, but didn’t take his eyes off Aaron, and it made him feel warm inside.

James got up to walk with him back to the car, mumbling a thanks to Aaron, but was half way there when he turned around.

“Oh, Aaron, this is your hoodie.” He started moving sluggishly to take it off, but Aaron shook his head. 

“It’s fine. I’m not worried about it.”

“Didn’t your brother pick it for you, though? It’s important.”

Aaron nodded, taking a beat before shrugging. “It is. A, um. A different brother needs it right now.”

When she found him he was clinging to his flint striker, but it took a second to figure out what he was doing. “Haymitch Abernathy, stop what you’re doing-” a voice boomed from on high, and then a shockwave rumbled through the ground. She couldn’t keep her footing and fell onto her hands and knees, gasping from the pain, but that was nothing compared to the sight of Haymitch crumpling into the grass, his hand falling away red from the gaping wound in his belly but the flint striker still clutched to his chest.

“Hay-” she called, and then he started to seize, his limbs tight and shaking. “Haymitch!”

She crawled towards him, ripping up the bright green grass in her desperate clutches, dragging her injured leg behind her. The world spun around her in dizzy circles; she could smell the crisp plasticky smell of an electrical fire but she wasn’t quite sure where it was coming from. She was only sure of Haymitch’s body seizing, broken little noises escaping from his slack mouth. 

“Come on,” she said as she pressed her hand against the deep wound in his stomach. Blood oozed over her fingers and the dizziness pounding in her head increased tenfold; she didn’t dare look at the sight. She forced herself to focus on his face, his dark lashes against his pale cheek and his gray slack lips. “Come back. Come back!”

It seemed like an eternity before he began to quiet down, his body going limp and still. “Come on, wake up,” she muttered. If he wasn’t hurt so badly she would shake him. “Wake up, dammit. You’re not allowed to die on me.”

She was so distracted that she didn’t notice the chopper until it was on top of them, and suddenly she was being forcibly pulled away from him. “Let me go,” she spat through her teeth. “Let me go!”

Maysilee clutched at his limp unconscious body, snarling like a feral thing, but they wrenched him out of her grasp and forced her away. They pushed her down to lie in the grass and she pulled at their clutches, trying to escape. 

Already there were people in pristine uniforms working over Haymitch, blocking her view of him, but her hand was still hot and wet with his blood. “Let me go!” she shouted, but no one was paying any attention to her, they were talking amongst themselves in brisk clipped tones and taking inventory of her injuries. 

“Haymitch!” she screamed, anger and adrenaline swelling through her ribcage, pulling away from them, and she nearly made it back to him when they caught her and yanked her away from his limp body. Something sharp pierced her upper arm, and her vision blurred for a second before it went completely black. 

The next time she opened her eyes she was lying in a neatly made bed, tucked in nicely under clean starched sheets. Monitors beeped gently and an IV was taped to the back of her hand. 

She took a slow shaky breath, willing her brain to catch up and take stock of what was happening, and it all flooded back to her. Haymitch. She needed to find Haymitch.

Slowly she shuffled around until she could slide out of the bed. Her bad ankle was in a crisp plaster cast but she still winced when her heel made contact with the ground. After a moment she tested her weight gingerly; she couldn’t do much but she could hobble slowly. Her legs felt weak and wobbly, like a newborn calf’s. How long had she been lying in that bed? 

Haymitch. She needed to find Haymitch.

She let herself carefully out of the room and found herself in a sleek hospital corridor. The hall seemed to stretch on forever, flanked in identical doors. Desperation made a lump swell in her throat. How was she supposed to find him?

She hobbled down the hall trying different doors, peeking in on empty beds and vacant rooms. Aching pain began to shoot through her legs, her wasted muscles screaming at her to stop. But she couldn’t stop. 

Finally, finally, she opened a door and there he was. 

Relief flooded her chest like cool water. He was pale as a wraith, lying on his back with his arms at his side, palms turned up. There were more monitors and tubes and wires hooked up to him than she’d had, but then again they probably had had to stuff his intestines back inside his body and stitch him back up.

Maysilee crept closer, her knees all but collapsing under her as she leaned her hands on his bed. “I found you,” she rasped. She pulled herself up, grabbing at her thigh to help hoist her injured leg. Haymitch didn’t wake, didn’t even blink. An oxygen cannula was strapped over his face and his lips were parted, his breathing sluggish. 

She eased herself down carefully, trying not to jostle him too much. “You’re not allowed to leave me, Haymitch Abernathy,” she said. “You hear me?”

He didn’t answer. She curled herself around him, draping her arm over his chest, avoiding the swath of bandages around his stomach. “You can’t break promises, especially not promises you made to your sister.”

She shifted around until his head was tilted towards her shoulder, and for the first time since she came to she let herself think. They made it. They were going to go home. They both survived.

“You’re my brother now, that’s not changing,” she told him. “I’m going to look after you. Keep you from doing anything stupid. That’s what sisters are for.” 

Not that he cared much for his birthday anyway. He didn’t actually know what his birthday was, since his parents had left him at the doorstep of the orphanage when he was a baby. They’d picked a date five months before, since that’s how old the doctor said he probably was, and Cuersaar 6th it was.

And Cuersaar 6th it was, and he was sick, and he needed to get up for work before his second alarm went off and he was super behind for the morning.

Thankfully, Caduceus wasn’t into grand gestures of affection in general, but instead small, intimate gestures. So, when he sat down to shove some toast in his mouth, which scraped his already irritated and painful throat going down, and sniffled pitifully, all that met him was a warm cup of tea, and an affectionate hand on his forehead.

“Good morning, Fjord,” Caduceus said, giving him a knowing smile. “Happy birthday. Are you sick?”

“S’ a cold,” Fjord rasped. “Probably got it off Luc.”

Veth’s son loved Fjord, much to her dismay and his delight, but he’d parked himself in Fjord’s lap for all of movie night while his nose ran and he coughed quietly into the elbow of his sweatshirt. Veth and Yeza had said they’d just stay home with him, but no one in their friend group cared about a little cold.

Now, Fjord almost wished he had.

Caduceus hummed knowingly. “Ah, he was real snotty on Friday. Probably. Sorry, friend. I’ll put some tea I think will help in a travel mug for you to take with us.”

Fjord didn’t go a day without feeling like he was so desperately lucky to have a friend like Caduceus. “Thanks, Cad.”

“Mhm. I think there’s some soup left from a few nights ago. I can put that in a thermos for you, if you’d like? For lunch?”

It would have been easy to brush Cad off and tell him that it was fine. He probably wasn’t going to be hungry, anyway. He didn’t even want the toast he was currently choking down, but he knew that he needed something to get him through his classes. 

“I–”

“Let me? Since it’s a day about you?”

That stopped him from declining, and Fjord nodded slowly after a second. Cad knew the mixed emotions that came with his birthday; he had for years. 

“Okay,” he rasped, wincing and taking another sip of tea. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Sure,” Cad said, smiling widely at Fjord, and making him feel a little warmer inside. “I think there’s some cold medicine under the sink. Why don’t you go get some before we leave while I pack this up?”

Fjord nodded, obeying like a child. Regardless of the fact that he was a thirty-one, no, thirty-two year old man, he wished the same thing he’d wished every time he felt poorly since he could remember. He wanted to be comforted, and taken care of, not because it was someone’s job, but because they wanted to. Because they loved him.

And Cad did. He really did. Fjord knew that. But like a friend, or even a brother, and that was different.

He rustled through their bin of medicine that Cad kept stocked with natural and chemical remedies, and found a few blister packs of bright orange cold and flu medicine. He swallowed one pack, and stored the others in his pocket, wishing that he was staying home in a sweatshirt and joggers instead of the khakis and polo he had on for his job. The fact that Cad got to wear whatever he wanted only frustrated him until he remembered that Cad wasn’t going to be teaching Biology, but Culinary and Agriculture. He’d spend half the day outside in the crisp, early Cuersaar wind.

The thought of it made him shiver, or maybe that was the fact that he was decently sure he was sporting a mild fever, but he didn’t let himself dwell too long. He needed to drive to school.

“Cad?” He called, wincing and sniffling quietly as he pulled a jacket over his polo and pulled his keys off the hook.

Gods, he felt awful.

“Coming!” Caduceus rounded the corner with his school bag, already in a coat, and with both their lunch boxes in his hand. He smiled widely, giving Fjord an encouraging nod, and holding out his other hand, which held the travel mug of tea. “Oh, and don’t forget this.”

Fjord managed a small smile, taking the cup from Cad with a nod. “Thanks.”

“Oh sure. It’s a chilly morning, and by the sound of your voice, I’d say your throat needs it.”

It did, and when it was gone before his first period prep was over, he wished it wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t strep – he’d had that enough times in his life to know the feeling – but it was enough that he wished he had a days supply of the warm tea to keep him from rasping so badly while he taught his first two blocks of AP Bio. Several students looked at him with worry, ones that he knew were prone to anxious thinking, and he tried to give them a reassuring look as he explained the circulatory system.

By the end of his third period the cough had started, and the sniffling was getting annoying enough that Fjord had just grabbed a box of tissues from his cabinet and parked it on his desk. He’d already figured he was going to have to restructure his afternoon classes plans to be independent work, as opposed to teacher-led, but he knew his AP students were already worrying about Thunsheer’s test, and he owed it to them to give them everything they needed.

Even if it was at his own destruction.

When the bell for his lunch period rang, he audibly sighed, and when he turned to make sure his kids hadn’t left anything behind, he nearly jumped.

“Shoot! Oh, Orym. You startled me.”

The senior was looking at him with drawn eyebrows. “Sorry. Coach, are you okay?”

Orym had a heart of gold. Fjord noticed too, now, that Dorian was hanging in the doorway. It was unusual to see one without the other, and Fjord sighed, running a hand through his hair that desperately needed a trim.

“I’m fine,” Fjord said, like a liar. He didn’t want to worry Orym more than he already was, especially with the heaviness he already bore. “Just a cold. Annoying, but bearable.”

Orym nodded, and so did Dorian from his sentinel’s post. “Okay. You should see if Nurse Jester has anything that can help. She showed up in Herr Widogast’s room earlier with cough drops.” He smirked a little. “Someone might have narked.”

Ah, Caleb. Caleb’s immune system was made of tissue paper, and as Luc’s uncle, he tended to pick up anything on the kindergartener immediately. 

“Herr too, huh? Good to know. Thanks, Orym.”

“Are we still having practice?”

Crap. Fjord did not want to have practice out in the crisp wind. He forgot they even had soccer that day. Why would he schedule a practice the day after a game? They didn’t have another one until the next week.

“Right, um. Let me get back to you, okay? Come see me after lunch. This is your lunch period, right?”

Orym nodded. “Okay. And then I’ll let the team know in the groupchat?”

“Perfect. I’ll write you a note to show up to fifth period a little late so we can figure it out. Now, go eat.”

Orym smiled, looking back at Dorian and nodding so the other boy would open the door, and they scrambled out to go find Imogen, no doubt. The three of them were a motley crew, but a favorite among his friend group of teachers. He could help but chuckle watching them go, and then sigh when the door closed and his headache reminded him that he was, indeed, sick.

The only good thing was that none of their friends knew when his birthday was. They didn’t know that it was, supposedly and legally, that day, and wouldn’t fret at him about being ill on a day that was supposed to be happy.

It wasn’t particularly happy, anyway.

The first one in his room was Beau, rage in her eyes, and he knew that the peaceful lunch he’d hoped for to let himself feel like crap was not happening.

“Do you know how ridiculous Kaylie can be?!”

Fjord sighed, sitting down at his desk and pulling out his hidden box of crackers, his water, and another blister pack of cold medicine.

Caleb had filtered in after that, looking pale and sucking on what Fjord assumed was a cough drop. He took a look at Fjord, and under Beau’s rant quietly said in a voice that matched his own rasp, “You as well then?”

Fjord gave a tired smile and nodded. “Yup.”

“Isn’t anyone listening to me?!”

“Kaylie is being a menace today because she spent the weekend with her mother, and then yesterday back with her father, so she is having the emotional whiplash,” Caleb said easily, and raspily, but Beau didn’t seem to notice.

“She still doesn’t have to be a monster–”

“Calm down, Beau. She’s seventeen and her home life is a wreck. Well, her mom’s home is a wreck. Let it roll.”

Beau looked at Fjord silently after he was finished, and then sighed, flopping down at her desk and basically throwing her lunchbox down.

The rest of their group filtered in, Cad bringing Fjord his lunchbox when he did, and Fjord savored the way the warm soup coated his stinging throat, and let conversation wash into the background as he settled a little bit into misery. He’d perk himself up when he needed to teach his next class, especially if he’d be dealing with a pissed off Kaylie, but for the time they sat in comfortable companionship, he simply let himself wallow a little.

Jester was eyeing him with worry, he knew that, and it embarrassed him, especially since he’d realized that he was very much in love with her, and she very much still had a shitty boyfriend. He tried not to make eye contact, but when the lunch bell rang and everyone started cleaning up their things to get ready for their next class, she was standing at his desk, holding a bottle of ibuprofen and a bag of cough drops.

“Here. I already gave Caleb what he needs for the rest of the day. You can come to me too, you know? I’m basically here for the students and the teachers. Having a cold while you’re teaching sucks so bad. Let me make it easier.” She leaned in and whispered to him, so no one else would hear what she said next. “Especially on your birthday.”

He felt like he was going to melt under the sincerity of her gaze, and he couldn’t do anything but give a little nod, his heart doing some sort of anxious tap dance when he took the bottle from her and their fingers brushed. 

“Thanks, Jessie. I know, I just… didn’t want to bother anyone.”

“Cad told me that you don’t want anyone to know about today. And I won’t tell anyone, but, maybe on Folsen I’ll bring a cake to Molly and Yasha’s for family dinner. Just because. Not for any reason.”

Her eyes were sparkling, and she was looking at him with no pity whatsoever. She wanted to do it, he could tell, and she wanted to help him, and all those things made it really hard to focus on what he was going to say next.

“I– Alright. Can it be strawberry?”

“Of course it can. And, I know you’re going to say no, but I’m going to get you a present. Don’t tell me no, I’ve made up my mind. You deserve something better than a cold for your birthday.”

She nodded, speaking in a normal voice again. “Also you should cancel practice, since you’re sick.”

“Oh,” Beau said, whipping around at the word ‘practice.’ “I can take the boys today. You should go home and sleep, you look like you need it.”

They were the only ones left in the room, everyone else having left, Cad with a small wave as he’d gone while Fjord had been talking to Jester.

“I–”

“Say yes,” Jester said simply, and shrugged. “Or else.”

“Or… else?”

“Or else.” She turned, her hair nearly smacking him in the face as she skipped out of the room, her pink scrubs a whirl as she spun out the door, and around Orym as he walked in.

Orym looked confused, but shook it off as he faced both Fjord and Beau.

“Hi, Coach Lionette. Coach Stone, did you figure out practice?”

“You guys are going to practice with me and the girls today. Let your team know.”

Orym looked between Beau and Fjord for a moment before groaning quietly. “They’re gonna kick our butts.”

He sat up slowly, his head pounding in time with his heartbeat. It felt like all of his muscles were screaming at him to lay his head back down, but he didn’t like the way Rosie’s face pulled into worry.

“I don’t think so,” he said, and when he swallowed, it felt like there was shrapnel in his throat. “What time is it?”

“Almost lights out,” Rosie said, brushing his bangs back to press a hand against his forehead. “You look awful, Ev. And you feel like you’re on fire.”

“S’always hot in here,” Evan mumbled, rubbing at his eyes to try to make them stop aching. “An’ we run warm. God of the forge, and everything.”

“This is way more than that,” Rosie said, and the next thing he knew, he was being hauled to his feet. The world swam a bit, and he had to reach out a hand to steady himself on the edge of his desk.

“Woah, Posie, slow down.”

She stilled, eyebrows furrowing at her step-brother of sorts. Their godly parents were married, which had always meant more to Rosie than it had to the rest of her siblings, and his. But, she took it seriously, and so did he.

“Sorry, sorry. I just– you need to go see Cady. You’re definitely sick, you’re all pale and flushed and weak looking.”

“How can I look pale and flushed,” Evan asked quietly, putting his warm face in his freezing hands for a second.

That’s probably not a good sign, he thought.

“I don’t know! Like, pale on your whole face, but your cheeks are flushed. Like when someone has a fever. You know?”

“Not really,” he mumbled. The more he spoke, the more his throat hurt, and it sounded like he’d decided to swallow screws instead of using them for the… something he’d been building. He couldn’t really remember what he’d been in the forge for, anyway. Everything was foggy and disrupted, what with how badly his head was throbbing. And, now that he was thinking about it, he sort of felt like he was made of jello. His muscles were all protesting being upright.

“I’m gonna sit back down,” he said, and Rosie grabbed his arm.

“No way, Ev. You’re going with me to the infirmary. Cady can fix you up and then you can go to bed. Probably in there, she’s going to want to watch you. You know how she worries.”

“Mhm,” Evan said, though he didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted to stay in the forge, where it was warm. “Are you sure I can’t stay here?”

“Evan Knight, you come with me right now.”

Oop, full name. Better listen.

He knew better than to fight with Rosie when she was set on something, and followed her as she started to pull him out of the forge and into the night air. As soon as they crossed the threshold he shivered, crossing his arms over his chest as he pulled out of Rosie’s grip.

“Gods, it’s cold.”

“It’s not,” Rosie said, worry inching back onto her face. “It’s actually really nice tonight.”

“Can I grab my sweatshirt?”

“No,” she said seriously, grabbing one of his arms, but letting him keep it crossed over his chest. “You don’t need to be any warmer than you already are. You’re going to melt your brain or something, or die from fever poisoning.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” Evan said, frowning as Rosie marched him toward the Big House. “I don’t think fever poisons you.”

“Well what do I look like to you? A healer? An expert on fevers? That’s why we're going to see Cady.”

“Cady can’t fix everything, Posie. Maybe she won’t be able to do anything about it.”

“She absolutely can,” Rosie said with such conviction that Evan’s next comment was stopped in its tracks. 

“Okay, Rosie Posie,” he said softly, trudging along with her even as each step made his muscles scream. “I believe you.”

As it turned out, Cady could do something about it. 

“Did you know you didn’t feel well when you went into the forge?” She asked, a hand against his forehead, and another on the back of his neck. She had her eyes closed as she concentrated on his body systems.

Or, at least that’s what she said she was doing.

He liked the way Cady talked when she was working. It made more sense to him; sharp and clinical, without all the emotions and niceties that made communication… difficult for him at times.

“No,” he said honestly. “But I’ve been really focused on this problem with my helicopter backpack thing, so I’ve sort of had my mind on that.”

She nodded. Cady understood that sometimes when he was focused on a project, his body cues went by the wayside. Maybe he had been feeling sick – he’d never know, and he’d never be able to tell her.

“Sounds about right,” she said, pulling her hands away and settling them on her hips. “That’s a pretty nasty cold. I can do some things right now, but sleep is really what’s going to help. In the morning when Will gets in, he’ll be able to deal with the rest of it. But, I can ease some stuff. Take the fever down. Help you sleep and stay asleep. Okay?”

He nodded, hoping that the sleep part would come sooner rather than later. The longer he was awake, the more miserable he felt.

Rosie was sitting next to him, worry literally radiating off of her, and Evan tried to give her a small smile.

“See, Posie? Sleep.”

“And other stuff!” she said, exasperated. “She literally said other stuff too. She’s gonna fix it. I told you, Cady can fix anything.”

Cady’s cheeks darkened, and she pulled at the navy scrub pants she wore during her shifts. “Gosh, Ros, you’ve got way too much faith in me.”

“No! You don’t have enough faith in yourself.” Rosie turned on Evan, pointing a finger at him. “And you don’t have enough faith in your friends. We love you. Let us love you and take care of you. I’m your big sister, damn it, and I’m going to act like it!”

Evan stared at her for a moment, the passion and fire in her eyes making him forget how awful he felt, until he had to turn away to stifle a bone-rattling cough into his elbow.

A hand was on his back in a second, rubbing gentle circles until the coughing fit passed, and when he looked up and shivered, Rosie was there, giving him a concerned and pitying expression. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, barely audible, and she shook her head.

“No, don’t apologize. Just let us take care of you instead of bruising it off as not a big deal. Sometimes things are a big deal, and that’s fine.” She nodded at him. “You’re allowed to be a big deal.”

They’d told him that before. That he was allowed to take up space and ask for help, and that he needed to take better care of himself, but he usually fell back into the old habits he’d gotten used to as a young kid. Fend for yourself, don’t take up space, and stay out of the way. 

But, it didn’t seem like Cady or Rosie minded that he was sick, or that he was going to take up their time, so maybe he could let himself have some attention. Just this once.

“Okay,” he said quietly, shifting so he could lay his head on Rosie’s shoulder. 

She stiffened for a moment, maybe surprised that he was actually listening for once, and then relaxed, pulling him close to her side. 

“Cady’s gonna do some stuff, and then you can go to sleep, okay?”

He nodded, closing his eyes against the harsh fluorescent of the infirmary, and snuggling a little closer to her side.

“Uh huh. Thanks, sis.”

She stood in the middle of the parking lot as they walked away. “Guys, I won’t get in trouble, right?” she called. “Guys?”

“Come on, Pen, you’re standing in the middle of the road.”

She hurried to catch up; the other half of the group was waiting on the sidewalk. “There you guys are,” James said. “Whoa, Penny. That’s…that's a big bag.”

“It’s not that noticeable, is it?” she said. 

“Spencer could use that as a sleeping bag,” Aaron said dryly. 

Spencer made a face. “I’m not that little,” he said. 

“We should probably go if we want to get popcorn before the movie,” Alex said. 

“Are we going to need any?” JJ said. “With all the stuff Penelope is sneaking in for us?”

“Oh, definitely,” Derek said. 

Penelope’s heart was beating so loudly she was sure the theater employees could hear it. Maybe she had a glowing neon sign above her head- ask me about the illegal candy in my bag! 

“Penny, stop looking so guilty,” Dave whispered. 

“But I am guilty,” she whispered back. 

“It was your idea to bring all this candy.”

“Stop talking about it!”

“Well, then stop looking so guilty!”

She hugged the bag to her chest and hid herself behind Derek. He shook his head, grinning, and handed her ticket to the bored employee along with his. 

Once they were safely into the theater she exhaled loudly. “I was not cut out for a life of crime,” she said. 

“I don’t think that counts as a crime,” JJ said. “Besides…haven’t you gotten in trouble like a million times for hacking computers?”

“That’s different,” Penelope said. “I’m going to go sit in the theater. Can somebody come with me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I will,” Emily said. “I’ll be your fall guy if they catch you. I’d do better in prison than you would.” Penelope’s eyes widened. “They’re not going to send you to prison, Pen, it’s a joke.”

Still, she didn’t feel completely secure until she was safely seated in the theater, her bag of contraband settled on her lap. She waited for the rest of the kids to make their way to their seats with their popcorn, half watching the preshow on the screen and half scanning for theater employees. 

“Dave, I think you have more butter than popcorn,” Aaron said. 

“What’s the point of getting movie theater popcorn if you don’t dump a ton of extra movie theater butter on it?” Dave protested. 

“It’s not really butter, most theaters use a coconut oil blend,” Spencer said. 

“Yeah, well, it’s still delicious.”

Alex sat down, and Spencer immediately plunked down in the seat beside her, nudging James out of his way. “Uh…could I sit next to Alex, please?” he said. 

“No, thank you, I’d like to sit here,” Spencer said. 

Penelope bit back a giggle at the look of tragic desperation on his face. “Do you want to sit on her other side, so you can be between the twins?” James suggested. 

“Yeah, you can sit over here, Bug,” Aaron said. 

“No, thank you,” Spencer said. 

Alex covered Spencer’s ears. “Don’t worry, babe, he’ll fall asleep twenty minutes into the movie and then I can give him to Aaron,” she whispered. 

Spencer squirmed around and frowned at her. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, darling.”

Penelope opened up her bag. “All right, I think we’re safe,” she said. “I think I have everything. I’ve got Milk Duds for Derek-“

JJ made a face. “I think we need to start calling you Grandpa instead of Dave.”

“Hey!” Derek protested. 

“Thank god,” Dave said. 

“Junior Mints for JJ-“

“Ew, that’s like eating chocolate covered toothpaste,” Derek said. 

“Milk Duds are basically chocolate covered cement, so who’s the real loser here?”

Penelope kept digging around in her bag. “Black licorice for Emily…”

Dave, JJ, and Derek stared at her. She shrugged. “It’ll turn my mouth black,” she said. 

“I’ve got a single can of ginger ale for Hotch, which…that’s just very sad,” Penelope said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Aaron said. 

“His tummy hurts and he’s being very brave about it,” Alex said. He huffed in annoyance. 

Penelope held up two packets of candy. “Skittles for Spencer and M&Ms for James,” she said. 

“Thanks, Pen,” James said as he ripped it open and poured it into his popcorn. 

Spencer’s eyes went wide. “You can do that?” he said.

“Yeah, Bug, you want to try it?” James asked. He held it out and Spencer took a small handful. 

Penelope pulled out her bag of Hi-Chews and set her tote on the empty seat next to her. “So since you guys have terrible taste in candy, I have backups,” she said. “I have starbursts, sour patch kids, Hershey kisses, Reese’s cups-“

Derek shook his empty Milk Duds box. “Can you toss me something?” he said. “I finished mine.”