Everyone knew she was sick. Or rather, becoming so. But stubborn as she was, she refused to stay home.
So Hank dumped an Airborne in her Orange Juice when she wasn't looking and they went on with their days.
Still, Hank was a worrier, so he called her every two hours. Around four, she got so bad that she avoided his phone calls and texted him later. Sorry, I was in a meeting or How can the ER fill up so fast? He saw right through it though, and planned accordingly.
When he got home, he out her favorite, warmest pajamas and a clean pair of the fuzzy socks she loved. He threw an extra comforter over the bed. He got her favorite blanket, the one of his mother's that made her cry when he gave it to her, and put water on to boil for her favorite tea, pouring in cough syrup as it heated and grabbing a half dozen pills from his bag to help her and taking them upstairs, setting them on her bedside table.
Fifty seven minutes later, tires crunched over gravel, and he knew Jill was home.
He poured the hot water into a mug, dropping a tea bag in it and making a grab for the blanket before walking out the door.
Sure enough, she was sitting in her parked car, gathering her work. Hank snuck up to her car and knocked on the window.
Jill jumped in surprise and Hank opened the door, snatching the manila folders from her hand and trading them for the tea. She smiled and climbed from the car, her smile growing when he slung the blanket around her drooping shoulders.
She held the mug in both hands, warming her freezing fingers and leaned on Hank for support as she walked into the house. She sipped the tea, coughing and sniffling between drinks. Once inside, she kicked off her shoes and stumbled up the stairs.
She missed half the stairs, almost spilling hot tea all over herself more than once. To keep her from falling, Hank slid one hand up her back and gently held one of her forearms.
When she reached the bed, she sighed contentedly at her folded pajamas, shedding the blanket to change into them. Hank took her clothes to the laundry and pulled back the blankets on the bed.
She hummed in appriciation and slid into the bed, sitting upright to finish her tea. She made a face when Hank held out the pills, but he encoraged her to take them, simply saying, "Come on," and moving to dump the pills in her hand. She sighed and oblidged, swallowing all the pills.
Once she gulped the last of her tea, she slid down, burrying herself under the blankets, but shivering notheless.
"C-Cold," She stuttered, curling up as she pulled the covers to her chin.
"I know," Hank reassured, climbing in behind her. He did his best to warm her freezing frame, covering her frigid one with his own. He pressed his stomach to her back and slowly rubbed the goosebumps, forming from cold, off her arms. Hank tangled his legs with her stiff ones and positoned his head so his warm breath would defrost her neck.
What seemed like forever later, Jill's breathing slowed as she slipped to sleep. Only then realizing how exausted he was, a combination of his day at work and preparing the sick house, Hank soon followed her example, sinking into sleep.