Sick

Disclaimer: I don't own Wilfred it belongs to its creator and so do the characters.

Summary: Ryan is sick and Wilfred is there to help by making things worse.

"The sick do not ask if the hand that smoothes their pillow is pure, nor the dying care if the lips that touch their brow have known the kiss of sin."

-Oscar Wilde

"I can't believe your sick Ryan. It seems so sudden." Jenna said her voice full of concern.

Ryan rolled his eyes subtly and glared at Wilfred who was next to him on the couch with his shoe in his mouth. "Yeah, I wonder how I got sick."

Wilfred glared right back, "Hey! I didn't know that your immune system was such a bitch."

"If you hadn't come in the house wet and shook it all over me I wouldn't be so sick." Ryan muttered low enough not to alarm Jenna.

"Are you sure you can handle Wilfred, you can't even stand."

"No, it's okay. He's not much trouble, besides I need some good company."

Jenna smiled and petted Wilfred on the way out, "Okay I'll be back around six, have fun boys!" Jenna cheered and closed the door.

Wilfred turned to Ryan who looked a little green, "So wanna play, mate?"

Ryan groaned and rolled over on his stomach his face in the cushions. "No."

"Ryyyyan!" Wilfred whined, "I'm bored…..borrred!"

"Sucks. I don't feel up to playing." Ryan groaned his head was throbbing and his mouth was dry. His body felt like it was burning. "I think I'm dying."

"Do I get your house when you die?"

"No." Ryan responded his voice raspy. "Urgg…" Ryan groaned as he tried lifting himself up, his throat was killing him, he needed something to drink. Slowly making his way to the kitchen Ryan pulled out a pitcher of ice cold water and began to drink it and then poured some down his shirt. Feeling dizzy from standing Ryan decided it was best to sit. Wilfred was making a mess of his trash and kept gleefully yelling. It was killing his head, "WILFRED! STOP!" Ryan yelled his voice seemed to be getting smaller and more raspy.

"Ryan. What am I supposed to do while you're sick?"

"I don't know but keep it down. My head feels like its split in two."

"Urrrg!" Wilfred groaned as he walked downstairs.

Ryan sighed as he lay on the cool kitchen floor, his fever seem to get higher and higher. He needed to call for his sister Kristen but he didn't need her worrying now. Maybe the fever will burn itself out? Ryan could feel a wave of nausea hit him. Not wanting to throw up on his floor he got up quickly causing him to stumble as he rushed for the bathroom. Where he threw up whatever was left in his stomach. Feeling sleepy Ryan passed out on the bathroom floor.

"Ryan…..Ryan! Oh no no no no no no! Please don't die on me Ryan. I know I say I want you to die but I was just being playful!" Wilfred cried.

Ryan slowly opened his eyes and saw the man-dog with a concern look in his eyes. "Wilfred?" Ryan asked weakly. "Wha…..what happened."

"I went upstairs to rub my ass across the floor and I saw you and you were barely breathing. So I pulled you to your bed and placed a cold washcloth on your head and made you some chili."

Ryan looked at the bowl on the tray in front of him it was a bowl of chili that was on the counter from last night. "Thank you, Wilfred." Ryan began to eat the cold chili, and saw the gleeful look on his friend's eyes.

"You're not going to die on me Ryan. I can't lose you, mate. You're the only person who sees me for who I am." Wilfred said as he snuggled next to Ryan sharing his warmth.

Ryan smiled as he finished the chili and slowly slept. It's been a while since he had someone take care of him while he was sick and he was glad that someone is Wilfred.