Thomas woke up to a sandpaper tongue and a sore throat. There was no saliva in his mouth. Thomas groaned as he smacked his lips unhappily. He sat up and rubbed his face. His clock told him he had another hour of sleep before he needed to get up. The under-butler sighed before sliding out of his warm bed. There was no way he was going to be able to relax when his throat felt like it was cracking. Might as well get up and grab some tea before breakfast. Thomas dressed himself in his standard tail coat. He stepped into the hall and headed towards the kitchen. The kitchen was already alive, even this early in the morning. Mrs. Patmore was bustled about, Daisy and Ivy easily dodging her as they did their own chores. Mrs. Patmore looked up as he entered the doorway.

"Mr. Barrow! You're up early. Well, good mornin' to you all the same."

"Good morning Mrs. Patmore. Ms. Daisy, Ms. Ivy."

Thomas winced as his throat protested. His voice was scratchy and raw sounding. Mrs. Patmore stopped her work and turned fully to him.

"Oh dear, Mr. Barrow. You sound awful. You best go talk to Mr. Carson. Or better yet, Mrs. Hughes."

Thomas tried to clear his throat, but cringed at the pain it caused. The elder cook tsked at him.

"Go on now. Daisy, take him to Mrs. Hughes. Knowing him, he'll try to work today. Stubborn you are Mr. Barrow."

Daisy smiled kindly at him as they were herded out of the kitchen by Beryl. The under-butler just scowled back. Turning back down the hall, Thomas headed back toward the servant dorms. He could read a book while he waited for breakfast. Daisy grabbed his elbow, hands surprisingly strong.

"Come on Thomas. It best you do talk to Mrs. Hughes."

Daisy pulled on his arm until he followed her to where Mrs. Hughes was setting up the table in the downstairs dining room.

"Mrs. Hughes!"

Mrs. Hughes looked up and smiled at the two of them.

"Good morning Daisy. Good morning Thomas."

Thomas frown grew even more. Why did all the women that work here always call him by his first name? Daisy nodded politely.

"Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Barrow is sick!"

Elsie looked Thomas over.

"He is?"

Thomas opened his mouth to reply that no, he wasn't sick. Daisy beat him to it.

"Oh yes. He sounds like a dying swan or something!"

Thomas growled.

"I do not sound like-"

Mrs. Hughes quickly stepped forward, placing the back of her hand on his cheek.

"Thomas, that sounds retched. And you have a fever! No, no. Off to bed. We can't have you working while sick. Go on, go! I'll talk to Mr. Carson for you. Someone will bring you up some breakfast later."

Thomas sighed. There was no point in arguing with her, it would do no good. However, a day off might. He nodded and started back to his room. His reflex forced him to swallow, but it was dry and painful. Entering his room, Thomas decided his parched throat could not wait for breakfast or tea. On his bed side table was a glass and pitcher of water. Not exactly the earl grey tea he wanted, but it would suffice. Thomas poured the water and lifted the glass to his dry lips. He took a sip, expecting the smooth cool relief it would give to his throat.

Thomas dropped the glass as he coughed out the water. It felt like liquid fire as it sat in his stomach. It tasted like a bitter lemon skin. His stomach turned in protest. Thomas swayed and dropped down on his knee, ignoring the broken glass on the floor. He gagged as his body heaved. The water coming up was worse then it was going down. However, it was not water and stomach acid that came up. Blood splattered to the floor as Thomas groaned. He slammed his hands down to steady himself. The glass dug into the palm of his hands. The under-butler sputtered as blood dripped from his parted lips. A knock was on his door.

"Barrow. Mr. Carson told me to bring you some breakfast."

Bates. Of all the people to come, it had to be Bates. Thomas whimpered as he coughed, a glob of blood joining the small pool in front of him. Mr. Bates knocked on the door again.

"Barrow? Barrow, are you alright? . . . Thomas?"

Mr. Bates opened the door slowly and peaked in.

"Dear god!"

Mr. Bates dropped the tray as he limped over to the younger man. John grabbed Thomas's shoulders and sat him up straight. Mr. Bates sliced his hand open on a shard of glass, but he ignored it.

"Someone! Someone call a doctor!"

Mr. Carson arrived in the doorway. Mrs. Hughes, Alfred, and Jimmy on his heels.

"What is going- oh lord!"

Mr. Carson took in the scene with shock before reeling in his emotions.

"Alfred, go call for an ambulance. Jimmy, help me move him to his bed."

Mr. Bates moved out of the way as Mr. Carson and Jimmy moved Thomas to his bed. Mr. Carson rolled the bloody man on his side so he would not choke on his blood. Alfred reappeared, eyes wide.

"Mr. Carson! I-I called for an ambulance. They'll be here shortly. Daisy's waiting outside to direct them here."

Charles acknowledged the young man before turning to Thomas.

"Mr. Barrow! Thomas! If you can hear me, do not fall asleep! Do you understand?! That is an order!"

Thomas blinked through bleary eyes. He opened his mouth, mumbling through the blood.

"M'sorry Mr -rson. 'm jus so tir'd"

Thomas closed his eyes as his world went back. Mr. Bates slapped Thomas on his cheek, trying to wake him.

"Come on man, don't fall asleep!"

Mr. Carson turned to the doorway, screaming.

"Where the bloody hell is that ambulance?!"