He knows she's right, and he manages to eventually get up after a moment, letting her lead him to the bathroom. He hates the cold water, but he knows he needs it, and once he sinks into the tub, it does feel good against his warm skin. He settles his head back, closing his eyes as he sinks into the water.
That pulls a soft chuckle from him, but his eyes stay closed. His head does turn towards her, though. "I know I'm real damn sick 'cause I don't even feel like foolin' around right now."
He's still coughing badly, but as she holds him and he warms up a little - without being too warm - he finally feels like he can get some sleep, which is what his body needs. Eventually, he drifts off to sleep, snoring because he's so congested.
When he does wake up again, he actually feels even worse now, but that just means he's more compliant, and he goes to the steamy bathroom easily with her. He barely speaks, just grunts at times until they're back in bed. Once he's managed to eat and drink a little, he just wants to sleep again.
"I know, baby," she whispers softly, stroking his hair.
"I know, and all I can do is treat your fever. I'm sorry. I know it sucks," she tells him gently, knowing that if his fever hasn't gone down in about another day, she needs to get him to the infirmary.
"I wish I could give you something to make it better."
The next two days, his cough just gets worse and worse, his fever still lingering but not getting worse at least. Finally, on the fifth day of being sick, his fever breaks. When he wakes up in the morning, he's drenched in sweat but he's cool to the touch, and his coughing has started to ease.
Juliet's been about eight hours away from calling Horace and telling him the sub needs to be ready for an emergency trip. That's how long she waits after one more does of Tylenol, knowing if it doesn't help, then they need to go before his fever does decide to climb when his body can't fight the virus anymore.
But finally just after sunrise, she's awake and reading when she hears him sigh in his sleep. Reaching over, she can feel the damp coolness on his forehead and she finally relaxes. Still, she only dozes and is awake when he is, ready with warm tea with a little honey to help soothe.
"Fever broke," she says with a soft smile, sitting on the edge of the bed. She'll get him into a bath to wash him soon, but for now, she wants to assess how he is.
His eyes open fully to look at her, his hand wrapping around her wrist for a moment. For the first time since he got sick, his eyes are actually clear, not glassy and foggy. "Saved my life," he grunts out. Is he being over-dramatic? Probably, but he sure felt like death.
"Kinda want one now," he mumbles, starting to push himself up. He just feels sticky and gross. "You get in first." Yes, he definitely wants to be held and he's not ashamed to admit that.
He nods a little, then slips into the tub, letting her get comfortable behind him. Once they're both in the tub together, he sinks back against her. He's still so damn exhausted, so he doesn't say anything, just closes his eyes as she holds him.
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"How can you be so sick, but look so good?" she asks rhetorically.
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"We have plenty of time for that. You just let me take care of you now, okay? I'm a retired doctor."
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She keeps him in the back a few more minutes before helping him out and back into bed.
"How do you feel right now? Hot or cold?"
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"I like being your personal furnace."
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He's still coughing badly, but as she holds him and he warms up a little - without being too warm - he finally feels like he can get some sleep, which is what his body needs. Eventually, he drifts off to sleep, snoring because he's so congested.
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She'll get him some food, make sure he drinks water, and then hold him as long as he wants.
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"I feel like shit, Juliet."
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"I know, and all I can do is treat your fever. I'm sorry. I know it sucks," she tells him gently, knowing that if his fever hasn't gone down in about another day, she needs to get him to the infirmary.
"I wish I could give you something to make it better."
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She rotates advil and tylenol, tries to help him breathe and keep him comfortable. It hurts to see him hurting and not being able to do more.
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But finally just after sunrise, she's awake and reading when she hears him sigh in his sleep. Reaching over, she can feel the damp coolness on his forehead and she finally relaxes. Still, she only dozes and is awake when he is, ready with warm tea with a little honey to help soothe.
"Fever broke," she says with a soft smile, sitting on the edge of the bed. She'll get him into a bath to wash him soon, but for now, she wants to assess how he is.
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"I was worried," Juliet admits, bending down to kiss his forehead tenderly.
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"Whenever you want, I can help you into a bath," Juliet offers.
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Juliet gets up and steps up to help him gently to the bathroom, kissing his shoulder softly before turning on the hot water in the bath.
"Ready?"
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