Sickly Sides

8

Remus:
     Logan's fidgeting with his tie, loosening it, shaking his head, then tightening it again. We're laying on his bed, his head leaning against my side while I card my fingers through his hair.

"Why don't we take that off," I reach over to help him.

He shakes his head, "No, it's a part of my outfit. Without it, I'll look ridiculous."

I frown, "No you won't," I say gently, "And you'll probably feel more comfortable."

He shakes his head again, "It's fine."

     I sit up to look him in the eye, "How about we get our jammies on?" I ask invitingly.

     He rolls his eyes, "It is far too early for sleepwear."

     I cock my head to the side, "Maybe, but you get a pass because you're sickly."

He shakes his head again, "I would rather wait."

I sigh, "Okay, Lo. How about I go get you something to eat? It's almost dinner time."

"Already? It feels like we just had lunch."

I nod, "It's probably because you slept most of the day."

     He sighs, "Yes, that would explain it."

     "Hey," I press a soft kiss to his forehead, "No more sour faces, we're in one of the happiest of places!"

     He groans, "No rhyming."

     "Awww, okay, but only for you."

     He rolls his eyes again.

"Aww, stop it." My grin grows wider, "You know you love me."

He blushes lightly, "I am aware of that fact."

     I kiss him sweetly, "Yeah you are, baby."

Patton:
     I head up to Roman's room, carrying blankets and a thermometer. I knock on the door softly, "Hey, kiddo?"

     "Come in, Pat!" Virgil calls back.

     I open the door, Virgil's laying on the bed, scrolling through his phone.

     "Hey, Virge, I brought you some more blankets," I say, brandishing the bundle in my arms.

"Thanks, Pops," he sits up.

"Can I take your temp?" I ask, waving the thermometer.

"Yeah, okay."

     He reaches for the thermometer when I come closer, but I push his hand away, "I got it, kiddo. Lift your tongue."

     He does as I ask, we wait for the thermometer to beep. When it does he lets me take it from his mouth. I look at the number, 99.1.

     "Yep, you've got a fever."

     He sighs, "Figures."

     I frown, "It'll be okay, Vee. Maybe it won't last long."

     "Logan doesn't seem to be doing so well with it," he mutters.

I put my hand on my hip, "Logan made things harder on himself."

Virgil laughs, then goes really quiet, "He didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Pat," he mumbles softly.

I sigh, "I know, I just can't help it. It's my job to take care of you guys. If you don't want me to do that, what am I even here for?"

Virgil stands up and wraps his arms around me, "We love you, Patton. Not because you take care of us, but because you care about us. And we care about you, you're so nice and generous and you're like my dad. I don't know what I'd do without you, Pat. And Logan's just too used to being productive, I'm sure when he's better he'll feel bad and apologize for being rude to you."

I'm tearing up a little, "Th-thanks, kiddo. That helps a lot."

He smiles at me, "Good, because I mean all of it."

     I step back from him, "You still have to get back into bed," I tell him sternly.

     He laughs, "Alright, Pat."