"Artie, are you awake?"
He stirred slightly, hearing the faint whisper coming from just outside his door.
"Quinn?" he said, reaching for his glasses. "You're not supposed to be in here!"
"Gee, thanks," she said, marching into the room and sitting down on the bed, careful not to disturb Lindsay, who was curled up in a blanket with her head near Artie's feet. "It's nice to see you too."
"Ok, that didn't come out right," he said. "What I meant was, I don't want you to get sick like last time."
She rolled her eyes, smiling slightly at the concerned tone of his voice. "Artie, half of town is sick, I've probably already got it."
"This isn't just sick...this is the plague 2.0!" he said, resting his head back on his pillow. "I feel like someone ran over me with a rhino!"
She grinned at his description. "So…I guess I don't need to ask how you're feeling. Why are you making Linds sleep at your feet?"
He chuckled quietly. "I'm not 'making' her sleep there. She tried out about five different places before she decided that was the most comfortable. She's spent most of the last two days there. And I'm probably not going to accidentally kick her in the face, so it's fine," he added, grinning.
"Oh, well if you're probably not going to kick her in the face, then it's all good," she replied quietly, noticing that Lindsay had opened her eyes a little, looked at her, and closed them again.
He shrugged. "I can't be held responsible for any muscle spasms that may result in me kicking her in the face. But she knows that, and apparently it's not an issue. I'm more worried about HER kicking ME in the face, with the way she's lying right now."
Quinn was about to respond, when Lindsay sat up.
"I won't kick you in the face!" she said, her eyes wide. "That wouldn't be very nice."
Artie grinned. "I know, Linds, I was just joking. How're you feeling?"
The little girl rubbed her eyes. "Sleepy, and my throat still hurts," she said, lying down beside her brother. "Can I go get the Little Mermaid? You said we could watch it again."
"We've watched it four times in the last two days," he said. "But fine. Go get it. I guess resistance is futile," he added, sighing.
Lindsay grinned, and hopped off the bed. "You're my best brother ever!"
After Lindsay had walked quietly out of the room, Quinn turned to him. "Four times in the last two days? Why don't you just keep the DVD in here?"
He rolled his eyes, grinning. "She has this thing where she has to put it back on the shelf in the living room, every time. And yes…four times. I already had it memorized, but now…" he trailed off.
She giggled. "Linds is right. You are the best brother ever."
"I try," he said, grinning at her. "Mom said you came by yesterday, but she wouldn't let you in?"
Quinn nodded. "I told her it was fine, but apparently that didn't matter."
"I'm surprised she let you in today," he said, rearranging his quilt. "She wouldn't even let Michael near either of us this morning."
She grinned. "Michael answered the door. He said he was pretty sure your mom wouldn't let me in, but I told him I was already sick."
He laughed. "Oh, right…I forgot. She's not even here. She's at some work thing."
"Artie, I have it!" Lindsay announced, turning on the tv and opening the DVD case. "Quinn, are you going to watch too?"
Quinn grinned. "Sure, Linds," she said. "I love this movie."
Lindsay grinned back. "It's my favourite! You can sit beside Artie. I can go on the floor."
"Linds, you're not going on the floor," Quinn said. "You're sick. Besides, I think there's enough space for everybody. Artie's just going to have to move over."
"You shouldn't be that close to me," he said, moving himself over. "Wait…that didn't sound right. I meant because I have the plague, not because I don't want you closer to me. Because I do want you closer to me, I just…" he trailed off. "Can you hand me that shovel, please? I'd like to dig myself an even bigger hole."
She giggled. "As I said, if I'm going to get it, I've got it already."
After the three of them were settled, Quinn sitting next to Artie resting against his headboard, and Linds sitting in Quinn's lap, covered in a blanket, they started the movie.
Quinn reached under the quilt with her right hand, entwining her fingers with Artie's.
He looked over at her, smiling softly. "I'm really glad you came," he said.
She smiled back. "Me too."
By the time the movie was over, both Artie and Lindsay were fast asleep, and Quinn was getting there herself. She couldn't really move, because Lindsay was sprawled out in her lap. As she shifted a little to try and get more comfortable, her leg bumped into Artie's. She worried for a second that she might wake him, before realizing that he wouldn't have felt it.
She was almost asleep, when a quiet voice from beside her said, "She's asleep. You can move her, and she won't wake up."
She looked over, and saw that Artie's eyes were open.
"Did I wake you?" she said. "I was just trying to move a bit without waking either of you up. You both look so cute when you're sleeping."
"Well, you really shouldn't hit people in the legs when they're sleeping if you want them to stay asleep," he said, a small, mischievous grin spreading across his face.
Her eyes widened slightly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" she trailed off, noticing the grin on his face. "Artie!"
He chuckled. "I was awake, and was trying to figure out if you were asleep or awake…I couldn't really see your face, but I could see your leg hit something, which I assumed was my leg."
"I've been awake the whole time," she said. "Has anyone ever told you that you and Linds sound exactly the same when you're snoring?"
He gasped quietly. "I don't snore, woman! Those are just normal sleep noises. And my sinuses are full of what I'm assuming must be porcupines or something, judging from the way they feel! If I was 'snoring' then I have a valid excuse…snarling porcupine rage!"
She grinned. "Whatever. You were snoring."
"I resent that," he muttered, preparing to sit up. "I'll be right back…you can put her in my spot if you want, I should probably spend more than half an hour out of my bed today."
Once he was in his chair, he reached over, helping Quinn move the sleeping girl over to where he had been. Noticing the bright red flush of her cheeks, he placed a hand gently on her forehead.
"No wonder she's passed out. She has a fever again," he said, handing a thermometer to Quinn. "Can you take her temperature while I'm gone?"
Quinn nodded, moving carefully so she didn't wake her up.
When Artie came back into the room, Quinn glanced up at him. "Her temperature is almost 103…Artie, are you ok? You look terrible," she said, sitting up.
He nodded. "I'm fine…just a little light-headed and dizzy. She needs Tylenol," he said, turning his wheels. "I'll go get it."
She stood up. "Where is it? I'll go get it. You should lie back down."
He shook his head. "No, it's fine, I'll get it."
"Artie," she said, walking over to him. "I'm going to go get it, and when I come back we're going to move her over, and you're going to lie back down."
He was about to protest, before he decided that there was no point in putting up a fight. "Ok, fine. It should be on the counter by the toaster. I think that's where Mom said she left it."
As Quinn left the room, Artie rolled up to the bed.
"Linds," he said, quietly. "You have to wake up for a minute, ok? It's medicine time."
The little girl rubbed her eyes, and rolled over to face him. "I can't. I'm too tired," she said. "I'm sleeping now."
He grinned. "Linds…it's just for a minute, ok? After you take it, you can go right back to sleep."
"Promise?" the little voice said from underneath the quilt that she'd pulled over her head.
He nodded. "Promise. You have to sit up, ok?"
She was sitting up when Quinn came back into the room. "Here you go," she said, handing the medicine spoon to the little girl.
After Lindsay had swallowed it, making a face indicating that it definitely did not have a "pleasant and delightful taste" as the package had indicated, she moved over to the far side of the bed.
"Artie, will you come back now?" she said. "Your bed is lonely without you."
"I will in a bit," he said quietly.
Quinn glanced over, noticing that he was leaning forward and holding his head.
"Um…how about you do that now?" she said, standing up. "Artie, are you sure you're ok?"
He nodded. "I'm fine. It just feels like some rams are butting heads inside my skull. I should probably take something."
She reached out, touching his cheek. "Artie, you're on fire," she said. "You should definitely take something."
He grinned. "It's because I'm too hot to handle, not because I'm sick."
She giggled. "It's nice to know that, even when you're sick, your ego is still in tact. Now. Get in the bed."
"I love it when you're forceful like that," he said, smirking at her.
"Artie!" she hissed. "Lindsay is lying right there!"
"And snoring loudly," he said. "Besides…I do love it when you're forceful. And she takes charge all the time, and I bug her about it. Everyone just thinks I'm a pushover," he added, grinning at her.
She rolled her eyes. "Well, if you are, then it won't be a problem for you to get in that bed right now!"
"Fine," he said. "I just feel like I'm wasting time when I lie there for hours."
"Well, you're sick, so wasting time is fine," she said. "I really need you to get better asap!"
He grinned. "I'll get right on that."
"Do you want me to make you some food?" she asked, as he transferred himself back onto the bed.
"Um…no, I think it's ok," he said. "I don't really feel like eating anything. Or doing anything. Or…ok, fine. I feel terrible."
"Just in case that wasn't obvious by the expression on your face right now?" she asked, sitting down beside him. "You should really take something, and then sleep."
He nodded. "I'm just going to stop trying to put up a fight," he said, reaching for the bottle of Advil on his nightstand. "It takes too much effort."
She grinned. "Did you, Artie Abrams, just admit defeat? Because if you did, I think this might be an epically awesome moment in history."
He grinned back. "Losing when you're sick doesn't count."
She rolled her eyes. "Of course it counts. You lose, and I win!"
He rolled his eyes back at her, resting his head back on his pillow in defeat. "Fine. This time, you win. It won't happen again."
She was just about to respond, when they heard the front door open.
"I'm home," they heard Beth say, as she walked down the hall, stopping at Artie's door.
"Quinn!" she said, leaning against the doorframe. "Didn't we have a little chat yesterday about you not coming in so you wouldn't get sick? What are you doing here?"
Quinn grinned sheepishly. "Everybody's sick. I figured that I've already got it if I'm going to get it, so no harm…right?"
Beth chuckled. "I guess that's true. It looks like Linds is passed out…Artie, honey, how are you feeling?"
"Fine," he said. "A little tired, but otherwise fine."
Beth rolled her eyes, walking into the room. "Right, because you know I believe that. In your entire life, you've never once told me you weren't 'fine,' even when it was clear that you weren't."
He smiled. "Ok, so my head hurts a little, and I'm a little dizzy, but really…I'm fine. I've been worse. I just took some Advil. Linds has a fever, but we just gave her Tylenol."
Beth placed one hand on her son's forehead, and the other on her daughter's.
"Did you stay in bed and sleep today?" she asked.
He nodded.
Beth glanced over at Quinn, who nodded as well.
Satisfied that Quinn wouldn't have nodded if he hadn't actually slept, she turned to leave the room.
"Quinn, honey, do you want to stay for dinner?"
"That would be nice, thank you," she said. "Can I help with something?"
Beth shook her head. "If you just stay in here and make sure those two get some rest, that'll be help enough."
Quinn smiled. "I don't think that'll be too hard," she said, glancing over at Artie, who was almost asleep again.
Beth smiled back, and headed down the hall.
Later that evening, Artie was sitting up in his bed, and Quinn was sitting beside him.
"I can't believe Linds was still asleep when Dad came to get her," he said. "I just hope she doesn't wake up in the middle of the night and can't get back to sleep."
"I think she'll be ok," she said. "I'm glad her fever went down."
He nodded. "Me too. I always worry about stuff like that."
She leaned towards him. "I'm really glad you're feeling a bit better too," she said. "I was worried this afternoon.
"Sorry for falling asleep on you like that," he said. "I guess I really needed it."
"Don't apologize," she said. "You're sick…it's allowed."
He grinned. "I'm pretty sure I have the best girlfriend ever," he said quietly. "I would kiss you right now, but I'm pretty sure that guarantees a plague 2.0 download into your system."
She burst out laughing. "Only you could say something like that and have it sound totally normal and like something people say all the time."
He laughed too. "Well, it's true."
"As much as I would like to be all over you right now, you're probably right," she said. "Can you please hurry up and get better so we can resume normal programming?"
He grinned. "I'll try. In the mean time…let me tell you about the wheelchair-accessible, germ-free bubble that I'm going to patent as soon as I'm out of here."
As she settled in beside him, and he described his plan in detail, she thought about how she was probably going to get sick. And how it would totally be worth it.