There was muffled noise before finally the door opened up and two people came walking into the house. A woman with long dark brown hair, pulled back into a braid, wearing a black jacket, jeans, and a blue tank-top was with a man who's arm was slung around her shoulder as he limped along with her, holding his stomach. Standing upright, he was taller than her, not counting the large fire-shaped red hair he had on top of his head. He wore a dark brown jacket with a light tan-colored shirt underneath and jeans and had a big bushy mustache. The two were in an argument as they came walking into the woman's home.

"Oh, just admit it Robert! You're sick and that's final!", the woman was saying.

"Ugggh.. And a stomach ache to boot, but I don't need you to baby me..", the man, Robert, grumbled. "I can get back to my house, it's just across from here, Lyla."

"You've got a high fever. You're burning hot to the touch.", she insisted, helping him to her guest room. "You try to walk to your house on your own, and you're only gonna get more sick."

Robert was NOT one to take orders. And he had been fighting with her about this since she caught notice of his fever, while they were out walking. He stood straight up, though his stomach lurched and hurt painfully deep down inside of him, and he glared down at the Canadian.

"I can take care of myself.", he growled before coughing into his shoulder.

She merely narrowed her eyes at him, and gave a push, knocking him backwards into the bed of the guest room. Robert looked at the bed and then started to get up, but she pushed him back onto the pillow, held him there, and pulled up the covers while she talked.

"Robert, you may feel fine right now, but your body needs rest, nourishment, and darn it, I'M gonna make sure you get it!", she growled back. "You watch, come not but half an hour from now, you're gonna crash and burn HARD."

Robert sighed in his annoyance, but there was no getting out of it. He crossed his arms and laid there, silently giving himself up. Lyla smiles after a moment, finding her success, and stood up.

"Well what do ya know?", she said. "I've finally got the great and powerful Robert Bloodpudding, to bend to my will."

"For now..", he warned.

She giggled and went out to make soup. So Robert was left alone in bed. As he waited, he closed his eyes, and crossed his arms, opening his ears and mind to the silence around him, hoping to find some peace in this.

The soup was done in a short time, and Lyla came into the room to find Robert in his introverted peace. She mistook him to be asleep, and he did not find it absolutely necessary to open his eyes until she spoke first, so she walked to the other side of the room with the hot bowl, and sat it on the dresser opposite of him.

Robert could hear the bowl being sat down and her walking back across the room and finally decided to look up, puzzled why she had not said anything or tried to make him eat it. She looked back in time to see him look up, and gasped a bit.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up.", she whispered.

Robert put his arms behind his head and shrugged.

"I wasn't ever asleep. I was just keeping quiet and thinking.", he replied. "But I'll go ahead and get the bowl."

"Oh no no no no no. You're burning with a fever. You need to stay in bed.", she said, coming over.

"Lyla Loliberry it's JUST a bowl of soup on the other end of the room!", he snapped back. "I am NOT incapacitated by a stupid fever!"

"Oh! Oh really?", she scoffed. "Robert, you have a fever and I've seen plenty of them. You walk over there to get that soup, and you're gonna pass out and spill it all over you, trust me."

"How do you know if that will actually happen?", he argued back. "You haven't took my temperature, you don't know how bad it actually is. I will NOT be stuck in this bed for a day, because of YOUR paranoia! I can take care of myself!"

Lyla scowled down at him and for once, looked intimidating to him, but he kept his ground and she folded her arms across her chest.

"...you're so confident that you can take care of yourself? FINE. Walk over there. PROVE to me I'm wrong. But so help me, Robert Bloodpudding, unlike you I actually HAVE a heart for other humans and if you pass out and get soup all over your clothes, you're just gonna have to get better in wet clothes and under MY watch."

"Fine. It's a deal.", he smirked, knowing he was gonna win.

He threw off the covers and hopped right out of the bed. He knew he could make it. Even if he was burning up, he knew it. He walked over to the dresser in brisk steps. He touched the bowl.

And then everything went black.