#fuss

“Tommy, stop fussing. It’s alright. I’m fine.” 

The harsh rasp that her voice had taken on since that morning greatly undercut her argument. She winced at the way that speaking strained the inside of her already extremely tender throat.

At her bedside, Tommy pursed his lips, hand reaching out to brush a few loose locks of hair off of her forehead, palm coming to rest on it. His frown only deepened, further testing her temperature by pressing the back of his hand to her cheek. 

“You have a fever.”

No shit, Lily thought, a few more chills wracking through her body. Despite being buried under a substantial pile of blankets and swaddled in one of his shirts.

She had been in bed since late that morning. After she finally sneezed a few too many times and Tommy deemed her too ill to so much as lift a finger. Shepherding her to their room and into bed. He’d been hovering over her ever since, fussing and monitoring her every movement, sneeze, and cough.   

Really, it wasn’t anything all that serious. Just a bad cold that she probably picked up from one of the kids or someone in parliament. She felt icky, but not too bad that she needed to be in bed all day.

But Tommy insisted, as he always did. And she simply didn’t have the heart to fight him too hard on it. Not when she knew the root reason for why he lost his damn mind a little every single time she got sick. 

Greta’s death had done a number on him.

“You have a phone call with the MP from Wellington in ten minutes,” she reminded him after looking over at the clock. Then sneezed into her blankets.

The furrow in Tommy’s brow deepened. 

“Go on. I’ll be fine,” she croaked. 

“I could have Frances or one of the maids come sit with you.”

She shook her head. “It’s alright. I don’t want to get any of them sick. I think I’m just going to try to go to sleep, anyway.”

He looked her over, resigning himself to having to leave her side.

“I won’t be long.”

“I know. I’ll be okay.”

He bent down to kiss her forehead. Lily tried to turn her head away.

“No, you’ll get sick–”

His lips touched stubbornly to just above her brows, retracting after a second to look down at her sternly. “I don’t get sick, sweetheart. You know that.”

It was true. Despite all their years spent together, Lily still wasn’t quite sure how he managed it. Either he knew some sort of black magic that kept him from ever falling ill, or he was simply too stubborn to allow himself to ever get truly sick.

She assumed it was the latter of the two. If he knew magic that was able to prevent himself from becoming ill, he would have shared it with her. 

Tommy pecked her cheek, pulling the comforter up more securely to her chin. “I’ll be back soon. Stay in bed.”

“Sir yes sir.”

That got a ghost of a smile twitching at his lips, eyes rolling fondly. Lily signed once he was gone, shifting against her pillows and sniffing irritably against her bunged up nose. 

She managed to doze for a little while. The room was dark and she was very tired. A headache throbbed behind her eyes and her muscles ached a little. Every once in a while, a chill wracked through her and she would clutch the blankets even tighter around herself. Her throat was absolutely killing her. Every swallow was agony, leaving her to feel as though she’d gulped down a mouthful of glass shards.

She was left suddenly deeply missing Tommy. Wanting his warmth beside her, his strong arms holding her close, his presence comforting her through the pain and discomfort that she was in. 

Much as she tried not to make a big deal of it when she got sick, she did secretly enjoy it when he doted on her. 

She grimaced, letting out a small little whine of discomfort when she swallowed again and her throat ached. A cup of hot tea and honey would have done wonders in helping to soothe her sore throat. Maybe enough that she could actually properly fall asleep.

Keeping the comforter from the bed wrapped tightly around her, she got up and shuffled to the door and down the hall to the stairs. By the time she got to the kitchen, she was somewhat regretting her decision to get the tea herself rather than call for Frances or one of the maids. The trek downstairs had been tiring. 

The kitchen staff wouldn’t be in until it was time to prepare dinner. A good hour or so still away. So the room was empty when she entered it. It didn’t take long for her to have a kettle heating on the stove, a teacup prepared with her favorite cinnamon tea along with a healthy helping of honey. 

Just as the kettle was starting to whistle, a voice rumbled out from behind her.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

She nearly screamed–which would have done horrid things to her throat considering the state it was already in–and dropped the honey she was putting back in the cupboard. 

Tommy was standing in the doorway behind her, brow raised. But looking more exasperated than genuinely angry. 

“You’re supposed to be in bed.”

Lily met his expression with wide eyes. She probably looked like a kid who had just been caught doing something particularly naughty. 

“I wanted tea.” It took her a few tries of clearing her throat before she was able to actually get the words out. 

Tommy took a step forward. “I’ll get it.”

“I can do it–”

“Go back to bed,” he ordered, his voice soft as he kissed the top of her head. Lily pouted up at him, sniffling and wiping her nose with the edge of the blanket still wrapped around her. “Go on. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Make sure to stir it enough.”

“Of course.”

She shuffled back to bed, muscles tired and even more achy by the time she made her way back to the room she shared with Tommy. Resituating herself with the rest of the blankets pulled up, she fumbled for the handkerchief on her nightstand to sneeze into. 

Ugh. Much as it pained her to admit it, Tommy was probably right to have ordered her to bed. Both times. She felt tired and awful and gross.

She hated being sick.

Tommy came back in just as she was getting her head situated on the pillow, teacup cradled in his hands.

“Careful,” he warned when she took it from him. “It’s really hot.”

She nodded, blowing on it. The last thing that she needed on top of everything else was a burnt tongue. 

“You don’t have to sit around here with me,” she told him, taking a sip, letting out a soft, relieved sigh at the way the warm liquid felt against her throat. Her eyes landed on the stack of papers on his nightstand that hadn’t been there when she wandered out. He must have brought them up from his office after his phone call. 

Tommy brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. Probably trying to subtly check her temperature again. 

“I want to.” 

Lily felt herself nearly melt into a puddle of goo at the sentiment, face leaning into his touch. 

“Now,” one of his eyebrows quirked up, “I have a few more things I need to get from my office. Can I trust you to stay in bed this time?” 

She snorted, which hurt her heavily congested nasal passages a little. “What if I don’t?”

His eyes narrowed, even as they sparked with amusement. “I will chain you to this bed if I have to, Callaghan.”

“Kinky.”

He poked her in the shoulder, muscles in his jaw jumping in that way she recognized as him trying to keep his stern facade in place despite the desire to laugh. “I mean it. Stay put. Finish your tea. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

She snuggled deeper into the mattress with her teacup clutched between her palms. “‘Kay.”

He eyed her to make sure she actually meant it, then got up and went for the door. Lily took another long sip, watching him slip out the door. Immediately wanting him back as soon as he was gone. 

Just two minutes.

She finished off what was left of her tea, then laid down more heavily into the pillows. 

By the time he made his way back upstairs, she was asleep. 

* * *

Tommy climbed carefully into his spot in the bed beside Lily. Taking care not to jostle her too much so he wouldn’t wake her. He had changed from his suit into one of his shirts and underwear, getting comfortable under the blankets before reaching for his lover. 

He drew her in gingerly to his chest, smiling a little to himself at her immediately snuggling into him even in her sleep. She was snoring, ever so slightly. A cute little buzzing that reminded him a little of a bumblebee. 

Tommy eyed her, assessing. Taking in the slight red hue around the tip of her nose and blotching both cheeks. The hand he had around her went to her side, feeling the way that her ribs moved with every steady breath. Outside of the light snoring, there was no wheezing. No indication that she was struggling to breathe. 

His gaze drifted over to the slightly crumpled handkerchief on her bedside table that she’d been coughing and sneezing into earlier. No signs of blood. He felt himself relax. He always checked. Ever since Greta. 

It didn’t matter how many times she got sick but then got better. Each time he heard Lily let out those ragged, barking coughs of illness, he felt his heart stutter with fear in his chest. Memories of Greta coughing like that, of her breaths growing ragged and weaker with each passing day, of her hand going limp and cold in his, all flashed on a loop within his head. 

Throat suddenly dry, he swallowed harshly, reaching down to feel at Lily’s forehead. She still felt a little warmer than usual, and he decided that if her fever hadn’t broken by tomorrow, he would send for the doctor. Just to check her over.  

Making sure she was still snuggled comfortably against him, Tommy picked up some of the papers he’d set on his nightstand, sliding his glasses on and setting to work.

* * *

She slept through most of the afternoon. A few times, she stirred or made little noises of discomfort, but each time Tommy managed to soothe her enough that she didn’t wake. When she finally did rouse, it was followed almost immediately with a fit of harsh coughing that had his nerves peaking. She pulled the bed sheets up to try to capture the coughs, little back hunching and sides straining with the force of each one. 

“Sweetheart…” Tommy fretted. Tossing aside his paperwork, he reached for her, settling a hand on her back, rubbing his palm up and down while the other helped support her and keep her upright. 

“‘M okay,” she rasped out once the coughing ceased. 

“Are you sure?”  

She nodded, leaning back into the pillows. “Sounds worse than it is.”

The skin of her forehead still felt warm when he brushed his fingers across it, but her eyes didn’t look as glassed over as they had earlier. That had to be a good sign. “If you’re sure…”

Lily smiled at him kindly. “Yes, love, I’m sure. Don’t fuss.”

But I like to fuss over you. Scooching closer, he cradled the side of her face in his hand, dropping his forehead to rest against hers. 

Lily sniffled loudly, wiping at her nose and grimacing. “Ugh.”

“What?”

“I feel so gross.”

“You’re not.”

She gave him an unconvinced look, and he rolled his eyes. 

“I’ve seen you shit yourself, remember? When you had that horrid stomach bug a few years ago? This is nothing.”

She whimpered and pulled the blankets up over her head. “Why did you bring that up? I’ve spent years trying to forget it ever happened.”

He felt his lips twitch upwards. “It wasn’t nearly as bad as I think you’ve made it out to be.” 

“It was the most mortifying moment of my life.” Her voice was muffled by the blankets. A single brown eye peeked out of her cocoon at him. “I can’t believe you still love me after that.”

“I’d love you no matter what. Now stop hoarding all the blankets before I freeze.”

She opened up the blankets so that he could pull them properly back over himself and draw her into his arms, head on his chest with her dark red hair spread out. Practically begging him to run his fingers through it. 

There was a soft meow, and then Trouble jumped up on the bed, emerging from wherever it was she’d been hiding. 

“Hey girl,” Tommy greeted the cat. She gingerly picked her way over to them. Lily lifted the blankets, and she immediately climbed under them and curled up against her. Tommy smiled a little, giving the small cat a few scratches under the chin and reaching for his paperwork. 

“Tommy?”

“Hm?” He glanced back over at his lover. Her lip was caught between her teeth, looking up at him timidly. 

“Don’t leave me alone, okay?”

He felt himself soften, tightening his grip on her. She must have been feeling pretty damn wretched. Even more than she cared to admit. 

He kissed her between her brows. “I won’t leave your side,” he promised. Lily nodded, cheek squishing against his chest and letting herself rest more heavily against him. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she mumbled, beginning to doze off again.  

“Always, my darling,” he murmured into her hair. “Always.”