Shelagh awoke at four am with a headache that could only be likened to shards of lead being drilled through her skull. Patrick was still asleep of cause, but he must've felt her stir as in his unconscious state he reached out for her. Careful not to wake her husband she got out of bed. Angela was still asleep so that was one less thing for her to think about.

Once in the kitchen it became more apparent to her that her breathing wasn't normal. It felt as though there was a heavy weight on her chest and it made her breathing slower.

She coughed, and she admitted it sounded bad. 'Just what I need' she thought, she didn't have time to be ill. She was taking care of other people, she couldn't do that if she was feeling like death warmed up.

She made herself some tea and slowly sipped it hoping the warm drink would ease her chestiness. It didn't.

"Morning my love." Patrick walked into the kitchen.

She looked up from the spot on the table she'd been staring at. How long has she been sat there if he was up already?

"Shelagh?" He said concerned. "Are you okay? You don't look well."

"I'm fine." She lied but her own voice sounded too loud for her and she winced in pain at the sound of it.

Patrick out his hand to her forehead. "Your burning up."

"I feel freezing." She pulled her dressing gown tighter around.

"Go back to bed, Shelagh. You're obviously not very well. Get some rest."

"No I'll be fine, there's a lot to do."

"I can manage." She protested before running her hand over her face.

"Are you really going to argue with me about this?" He asked putting his hand on her cheek. "Shelagh, you're only going to get worse if you try and carry on."

She sighed giving in. "Okay..."

He placed a kiss on her lips before standing up straight.

Shelagh laughed slightly. "You're probably going to get ill too now you know?"

He gave her a small smile. "You're worth it. Now come on, back to bed."

"Yes doctor..." She mumbled slowly getting to her feet and walking back to their bedroom.

Patrick ran a hand over his face once she was out of sight. He hated seeing her ill, the months she'd been gone recovering from TB were the longest of his life so he always worried when she got ill. 'It's probably just a cold or something' he told himself before pulling himself together and going to wake Timothy up.