simon_doctor | (no subject)

A hand reaches around and puts a cup of tea on the side table.

Kaylee bends and plants a kiss on the top of his head.

He looks up, smiling. "Xiexie, ai ren."

A quick smile, and Kaylee heads back to the kitchen.

Simon takes a careful sip of the tea, and sets it aside to cool for a little.

Close to fifteen minutes later he reaches for it again, blinks in mild surprise at finding it cold, shrugs, and takes a drink of it anyway. It still tastes good, and it's still caffeinated.

His throat protests a little at the acidity without the warmth to compensate; he ignores it.

A little while after that she finishes up with the dishes, and picks up her terrible shoujo manga and heads for the balcony with a beer. It's a nice spring evening, and she doesn't have to study.

A brief but violent bout of coughing punctuates the quiet as Kaylee opens the balcony door.

Simon's waving a hand to indicate that he's fine, despite for the moment not being able to get out a word between coughs.

Kaylee stops just barely long enough to take in what's going on. Then she's off to the kitchen for a glass of water.

She sits beside him, and holds it out.

He reaches for it, suppresses the next cough and the next one, and takes a deep drink.

"I'm all right," he manages, wheezing slightly as he gets his breath back. "Thank you."

Another cough scrapes at the bottom of his throat, and he suppresses that one too.

She presses a hand to his back, brow furrowing.

"Gonna make it?"

Simon nods, with a reassuring smile. "Just a cough. I think some of the tea went down the wrong way."

He's hoping that's all it is. This would be an inconvenient time to come down with a cold.

"I thought doctors was supposed to be able to not do that." With a small, teasing smile.

"No," he admits readily, "that's just propaganda."

(A cold, or -- but no; he was immunized against that as a kid.)

"Mm." She leans against him for a moment. "Well. If you're gonna make it. I think I'm gonna take a nice long bath and turn in a little early." A small, sidelong smile. "Company'd be nice, but if you got too much to do, I'll take no for an answer."

Simon hesitates, then regretfully shakes his head. "Duìbùqĭ," he says. "I really shouldn't."

He does, however, lean in to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth before she moves away.

She lets her hand linger on his shoulder. "I'll just make it twice as good Friday night." Raised eyebrows, smile a little more pronouncedly a come-on, she heads for their room.

Shortly thereafter, the sound of running water.

It's close to an hour later when Simon finally shakes his head, presses his fingers to the corners of his eyes, and shuts down the datareader. He hasn't gotten anywhere near as far as he was hoping to get tonight, but he's ridiculously exhausted and can feel that cough waiting at the bottom of his chest. It probably is a cold.

Another cup of tea (drunk while it's still hot, this time) and bed early, he decides. And a fresh start tomorrow, once he's slept. He sets down the reader and gets to his feet, wincing a little -- he's been sitting too long in the same position, and his back and legs have gone stiff and achy.

The wave of exhaustion rolls over him as he stands up, and he decides to forego the tea.

The bathroom light is on with the door halfway closed, and Kaylee's turned away on her side, one hand curled by her face.

It takes him longer than it should to change into his pajamas and get ready for bed, and twice he has to fight back another bout of coughing so as not to wake Kaylee. The second time he makes for the bathroom and closes the door, hoping that'll be enough in the way of soundproofing.

The tap water feels colder than it should on his hands, on his face, while he washes up; the residual dampness in his hair after he's done feels almost icy.

By the time Simon slides under the covers, he's starting to shiver.

Kaylee turns over with a soft sigh. She doesn't wake.

A half-doze is the closest to sleep he can get, eyes closed against an ache that starts behind his temples and spreads slowly. The shivering subsides once he's under the covers.

And starts again a few hours later, and gets worse.

When he tries to crawl out of bed to find a second blanket, the ensuing coughing fit is too sudden and violent to suppress, and leaves him in a crumpled huddle on the floor next to the bed.

Kaylee shifts, protesting, and reaches out --

There's nothing there.

Nothing but coughing.

She sits up and reaches to turn on the lamp.

"Hey." She's crouched beside him. "Simon."

(She sounds scared.)

There is a chesty, heavy sound to the coughing that doesn't sound good at all.

A damp sound.

"H-hey." He passes a hand over his eyes and blinks blearily at her. "Sorry I ... woke you."

"You're sick."

Kaylee's kneeling in front of him, her hands resting on his shoulders. "Simon -- come on. Let's get you up."

Simon never gets sick. It's the middle of the night. And considering --

The damp-lung is worse in adults than it is in kids.

"Think so," he whispers, "yes."

He reaches out one unsteady hand to clutch the edge of the bed for support.

"Okay." She shifts a little, working her arm under his shoulder blades. "Come on -- up we go -- "

She settles him on the edge of the bed, and makes herself take a deep breath.

What's the first thing Mama would do.

(The thought is only visible as one mouthed word: mama.)

Keeping a hand on his shoulder, she reaches behind him for the pillows on her side of the bed, and adds them to his, setting up a quasi-backrest on an incline. "Let's get you to lie back. You want another blanket?"

"Please." He nods, shaky but definite. "I was ... going to get one. Cold."

"Okay." Gently. "All right. Go on and lie down and I'll pull it down."

Kaylee helps him lie back and pulls the covers over him, then goes for the closet. Over her shoulder, as she unfolds the blanket: "Simon, I think you got the damp-lung."

She spreads it over him, and sits on the edge of the bed. "Only I never seen it take anybody this fast. How long've you been feelin' off at all?"

"Only since ... this evening. Few hours."

He turns toward her and onto his side, pulling the blanket close around his shoulders, curling into a position halfway to fetal. Still shivering.

"This is bad," he whispers.

"Well." Kaylee keeps her voice light. "Reckon you're lucky you got somebody around who's seen it a fair amount and who's got a lot of time on her hands."

She strokes the damp hair on his forehead. (He's burning up.) "I'll take care of you. Long as I can. We'll get you a couple paracetes and see how you're doing in a couple hours."

"...mmknow how 's even possible," he mumbles, sounding vaguely indignant.

Leaning his head against her hand, with a sigh that rasps in his chest, he adds "Xiexie."

I really want some coffee, she thinks. With real cream, and real sugar.

This is going to be bad.

"You know." Soft. "I had it when I was a kid. So I know what's to come. You're gonna be just fine. Might get a little unpleasant in the meanwhile, but it'll be okay." She keeps stroking his hair. "I'm gonna go get you the blanket from the couch, and then I want you to take those pills. After that, you can sleep. Okay?"

"All right."

Sleep sounds really attractive right now.

She lets her hand slide to his shoulder and fall away as she rises. "I'll be right back."

And it doesn't take her long to fold the blanket over one arm, and fetch a glass of water. The paracetamol live in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. She shakes out two in her hand, puts the vial back, and comes out. "Simon, can you sit up? Just long enough to take these and drink that glass of water."

He's already trying to sit up before she finishes speaking. It's a significant effort, and he's coughing again by the time he's upright.

The fit subsides, and Simon struggles to catch his breath.

"...cào."

"Well, Simon Tam." Kaylee makes herself sound amused, makes herself smile, as she sits back on the edge of the bed. "This must be bad."

She reaches out and touches his knee. "Take it slow, sweetheart. Not in any rush."

Her smile draws a reluctant answering smile from him, as he steadies himself against the pillows.

"Sorry," he murmurs ruefully, and holds out a hand for the pills.

"You're allowed to swear," she tells him as she places the pills in his hand and reaches for the glass of water. "It's the middle of the night and you feel awful. That's grounds."

"Seemed appropriate," and if the glance he gives her when he says it is any indication, that's a deliberate joke.

He swallows the pills, chases them with water.

The glass is cold against his hand, and he half expects to see it beading over with condensation. It isn't.

Kaylee reaches behind her for the blanket and starts to unfold it. "You go on and finish that off. Don't want you dryin' out."

"Bed rest and plenty of fluids," he agrees, still wry, and takes another swallow.

The shivering is starting to come back again.

Kaylee reaches for his free hand; it's not clear exactly whom the gesture's meant to reassure.

His hand curls around hers as he tilts his head back to drink the last of the water, and sinks back against the pillows.

"At least I ... don't have t' get up early."

"Honey, you might want to count on stayin' in bed altogether." Gently wry. "I'm gonna get you up in a couple hours and make you drink some more, okay?"

It's a measure of just how exhausted he is that he isn't inclined to protest at the thought of staying in bed all day.

(Besides, if need be he can study in bed.)

He nods, and his eyes drift closed.

She shifts her hand from his, and stands up to draw the last brightly colored blanket over him.

Whispered: "I won't go further'n the kitchen." Kaylee bends and kisses his forehead. "I'll be right here."

"Mkay." Without opening his eyes.

He barely moves, except to burrow deeper under the blankets.

A list. Kaylee needs a list.

Kaylee needs a way to make the room as humid as possible.

Out in the kitchen, she starts to pace while water heats up for tea. To herself: "In the tub, till I get what I need."

She picks up Simon's datapad, and starts to make a list. On it are items for an allergic reaction, to help with a cough, to put in a bath to help with aches, to reduce a fever, and to rig up a rudimentary humidifier.

Also on the list: soup, tea, crackers, salt and sugar, coffee, and many, many romance novels.

"How'm I gonna get all this." She rubs her eyes with her hand, and goes to the window. The night sky is dark, and for all intents and purposes, Osiris is still sleeping -- it's about two-thirty in the morning.

Some of what she wants she only knows by a certain name. Some of it she doesn't even know where to find.

She looks out in the living room.

It doesn't take her long to make up a rude bed out of the couch cushions on the floor in the bedroom. Tired as she is, she lies awake, staring at the ceiling, covered by two sheets.

She listens to him breathe.

Beside her, the alarm on the datapad is set for 5:30.

Kaylee's scared.