Story originally made for the May Mini Challenge of Hurt and Comfort Bingo, on LJ. Hope you all like it!

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Disclaimer: Revenge does not belong to me.


Soup

"Ems, are you in there?" Nolan walked in as he always would, much like he owned the place. "I'm having a hell of a headache and I just found out I don't own any medication. And when I say 'any', I really mean 'any'."

As no answer came, he stopped on his feet.

"Ems?"

"Shut it down, Nolan. Your voice is echoing through the walls."

He almost jumped in fright. Under a mini mountain of covers, he caught a glimpse of Emily's chocolate brown eyes.

"Are you alright?" he approached the couch, kneeling beside it.

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I?"

"Ems, you're burning." He said, touching her forehead with the back of his hand.

She rolled her eyes.

"I'm fine, I'm just resting for a little bit."

"Where do you keep your medicines?"

"On the cabinet under the bathroom's sink."

He nodded and got up, heading to the bathroom. Her white box was filled with all kind of medication, including antipsychotic drugs. With his own headache forgotten, he grabbed an antipyretic and quickly got back to her.

Emily was still hidden under her covers when he reached the living room.

"Come on, Ems. You're stronger than a fever."

He went to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, and got back to her once again. Delicately, he helped her sit.

"I'm just tired, Nolan. The fever is not winning me."

"Yeah, Ems. You tell yourself whatever you need to."

Once again, she rolled her eyes at him, to what he just smiled. He knew very well how tired she was. He, more than anyone, should know. However, it was just too difficult to bare the sight of her knocked down on her couch, defeated by the most ancient of human enemies: the cold – one more terrible than the Greysons, apparently.

"Just swallow it." He handed her the pill and the glass of water.

Without even questioning, Emily did as he told, and Nolan thought he never felt more pleased in his entire life. When was the last time Emily hadn't questioned him? Oh, yeah, that's right, it had never happened before.

"Do you want a soup or something?"

Emily couldn't help but laugh.

"And since when can you make soup, Nolan?"

"Since always, silly. I had to eat, hadn't I?"

"Well, I guessed you just called the delivery services."

"After I was rich, sure. Before that, no."

"Okay, Nolan. Show me this great soup of yours."

He chuckled and got up, heading to the kitchen. It had been a while since he last did his aunt soup recipe, but he still remembered it well enough. It was just like riding a bicycle. Less than half an hour later, he was holding a steaming bowl of delicious scented soup.

Emily couldn't believe her nose, neither her eyes when Nolan placed the bowl in front of her. His soup smelled and looked absolutely delicious. Really, who could know a nerd like him would be able to cook?

She dived the spoon and blew it delicately, afraid the liquid was too hot. It tasted wonderful. It was chicken soup, but she could feel the paprika and a flickering suggestion of curry.

"This is really good, Nolan. Thank you."

And she meant every word, what could only make him smile from ear to ear. Emily was the closest thing he had to a family, and he always enjoyed when he could help her with something, even if it was something as small as making her soup.

"Hope you get better, Ems."

He was ready to get up and leave. He knew her rules. She didn't like extended company.

"Nolan." She called before he could reach the door.

"Yes?"

"You didn't take anything for your headache."

"Oh, yeah. I had forgotten about that."

"Then go there and fetch it. I don't want you complaining on my ears any longer."

He just smiled and nodded, heading back to the bathroom's cabinet. Maybe he was needed after all.