Even before he was fully awake, Jamie knew that he was sick. His stomach was twisted up and clenching, he was sweating, his cheeks felt like they were on fire, his head was pounding and his mind was hazy and thick with fog.

He opened his eyes to look at the time but clenched them shut immediately to block out the light from his window. He involuntary let out a groan as there was a piercing pain behind his eyes.

Taking a few deep breaths, Jamie prepared himself for the blinding light as he opened his eyes again. He was squinting and blinking a lot, but he was able to look at his clock. The movement made his vision swim, and it took a moment for him to read the time. 9:22. Well, so much for school today. Mason would probably wonder why he wasn't there. He would get worried when Jamie won't answer, because, honestly, he didn't think he'd be able to handle the bright screen enough to send a text of any kind.

Feeling his stomach clench sharply, Jamie leapt up from the bed and almost fell over, but he managed to brace himself against his desk. Then his door and walls in the hallway as he ran for the bathroom, reaching it in time to throw up into the toilet and not all over the floor.

Jamie's cold frame shook as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the bowl over and over again until he was dry heaving. Wearily, he pressed a fiery cheek to the toilet seat as he lifted a heavy arm to grab some toilet paper to wipe his mouth before dropping it in the bowl and flushing it all away.

He lay there with his head resting against the cold porcelain, for how long he didn't know, until he heard his mom's voice from downstairs. "Jamie? Are you okay up there?"

Jamie almost instinctively said 'fine' but knew that he needed her help, because honestly, he wasn't the best at taking care of himself (worse even when he was sick). So he groaned out a 'No,' and secretly hoped she would come to take care of him like when he was little. No matter how old he was, he would always be a momma's boy at heart. Not that he'd admit it, though.

He heard her come up the stairs and from down the hall he could see her through the still open door. From his place on the floor, he watched blearily as she raced over to him.

"Oh, honey, baby, what happened? What's wrong?" She put the back of a hand to his forehead and Jamie closed his eyes at her cool touch. "Oh, honey, you're sick. I'm going to take your temperature, okay?"

Jamie kept his eyes closed as he nodded. He did open them, though, when she helped him up from where he was slouched limply over the toilet to get him leaning back against the wall. She grabbed the thermometer from the cupboard and put it in his mouth before wetting a washcloth and wiping down his face.

"102.6. That's not good, honey. How about we get you out of those sweaty clothes and into some dry ones before you go back to bed, hmm? How's that sound?"

Jamie frowned and mumbled, "Sweaty?" before looking down and seeing that, yes, his clothes were soaked through.

"Oh, honey," he heard his mom sigh sadly (why was she sad?) before a glass of water that he didn't know when she'd gotten was being pushed into his hands. "Drink this, and I'll go set some clean clothes."

Jamie took a few sips of the cool drink before tipping his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. He was grateful that his mom left the lights off. He didn't know if he could handle the bright lights with his head pulsing like it was.

Jamie felt like he'd just closed his eyes when his mom was back.

"C'mon, baby," she said as she grabbed his hands. Wait, where was his cup of water? "I got out a shirt and pants and put them on your bed." He saw it on the counter. When had it gotten there? "Your sheets were also damp so I changed them as well." Suddenly he noticed that she had pulled his arms over her shoulders and wrapped her own around his chest. "Your old ones are in a laundry basket and I'll wash them after you're settled."

"The whole bed?" He asked as he wrapped his arms around her as firmly as he could (which was not a lot) and leaned into her, his face in the crook of her neck.

"Yes, your whole bed."

"But you were gone, like, five seconds," he mumbled sleepily.

"Jamie?"

She pulled him back slightly and he reluctantly opened his eyes to see her watching him worriedly. "Jamie, honey, I was gone about five minutes."

"Oh."

She pursed her lips.

"'M tired."

"I know you're tired, so let's get you to your room, then you can sleep, okay?"

"What about school? You should probably call in. And call Mason. He'll be worried when I don't show up. And he'll have to get my homework for me," Jamie let himself ramble sleepily.

"Jamie, sweetie, it's Saturday. There is no school," his mom said softly.

"Oh."

"Now, you need to sleep, okay? I can't lift you on my own, so you're going to have to help. Can you try to stand up for me?"

Leaning heavily on her, Jamie managed to stand up and walk the short distance to his room where he saw his bed freshly made and clean clothes at the foot. He noticed that his room was considerably darker than before and he saw that his blinds were closed. His mom really was a blessing.

Energy drained, Jamie flopped onto the bed and just looked at the clothing. The effort needed to change was too much for the little energy he had, but he knew he would feel better wearing them, so he just sat there pouting at them until his mom spoke up.

"Are you wanting me to leave you to change or are you wanting help?"

Jamie just turned his pouting up to her.

Her lips twitched into a small fond smile and she brushed his hair out of his face.

It took a few minutes more than it should have to get out of the sweaty clothes because his body didn't seem to want to cooperate. But he was soon sitting there in just his boxers as his mom put his old shirt and pants in the laundry basket with his sheets.

"Alright," she held up the clean clothes. "Step two: getting these on."

Getting the clean shirt on didn't take as much time, but when she went to put on the pants he whined.

"No pants."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Hot."

"Okay, if you're sure."

Jamie flopped down to lay down, and immediately let out a loud groan as his head throbbed.

"Oh, sweetie," her fingers through his hair helped make the pain go away.

When it was more bearable, she helped him pull the covers out from under him and got him tucked in.

"I'm going to go get some medicine, but I'll be right back okay?"

Jamie nodded and she pressed a kiss to his forehead before she left the room.

"Here," his mom said as she came back in his room a few moments later with a small bottle and a plastic tub in her hands. "Take this and it should help you feel better."

Jamie let out a whine when he saw which bottle of medicine it was.

"I know, I know, but it'll help you, I promise," she said sympathetically as she sat on the edge of his bed. "This," she held up the tub, "is for if you have to throw up again, okay?" She put it on the ground.

Jamie watched warily as she poured the medicine in the cap and held it out to him. He reluctantly took it from her, took a deep breath before downing it as quickly as he could. As soon as he finished swallowing he started coughing, lightly at first, but soon it turned into a violent coughing fit.

When it calmed down he lay back on his pillow, panting, as his mom rubbed his chest and ran her fingers through his sweaty hair soothingly.

After a few moments, Jamie mumbled out "'m cold."

"I'll go scrounge up some more blankets. Are you hungry? I can go make some soup for you."

"Chicken noodle?" Jamie rasped out wanting the comfort of his favourite soup.

"Of course," she smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair one last time before getting up.

"Thank you. I love you," Jamie said as she picked up the laundry basket.

"I love you, too," she said as she kissed his forehead before leaving his room.

While waiting for his mom to come back with the blankets and soup, Jamie felt himself slide in and out of consciousness as he dozed.

"Hey, man." Jamie started awake when he heard a voice coming from his doorway. Jamie flopped his head over to see Mason walk in with a bowl in his hands. "Are you okay? How are you feeling? Your mom said you're sick with a really high fever and gave me this soup to bring you. She wasn't sure if you were awake, though. You were asleep when she brought the blankets. So I guess we're not seeing that movie tonight. But that's okay. Are you feeling better after your nap?"

"Mmm," Jamie mumbled as most of what Mason said went in one ear and out the other.

He pulled his arms out from the many layers of blankets. He stared at them until Mason's words sunk in and he realized that these were the blankets that his mom brought. Huh, he didn't think he fell asleep long enough or deep enough to not even notice when she came in. Deciding to ignore that, he continued to sit up when an ice pack fell from his head. He stopped to look at it, then slowly managed to get himself sitting upright and leaning against the headboard. That was uncomfortable and hard against his back so he leaned forward and tried awkwardly to prop a pillow up in between.

After a few moments of struggling, a hand came out of nowhere to help him, and he realized, embarrassingly, that when his clouded mind could only focus if he concentrated on the task at hand, he'd forgotten about the other person in the room.

He was finally settled, though, and he yawned as he rubbed his eyes before blinking a few times to focusing on the boy in front of him.

"Is that my shirt?"

"...what?" Jamie croaked out, his foggy mind not processing the words spoken to him as he was caught off guard.

Mason pointed at him. "Is that my favourite shirt that I've been looking for the past week?"

"Umm," Jamie looked down to see a super soft, light gray, vintage shirt. "Maybe?"

His voice was still scratchy and he put a hand to his chest as he tried to clear his throat a few times, but that just made it tingle, which in turn made him start coughing again.

A hand was pressed to his forehead as a glass of water was pushed into his hands and he managed to get in a few sips between coughs. The water was soothing for his parched throat.

"When your mom said you were sick, I didn't expect you to be this bad."

"I feel like 'm dying," Jamie groaned.

Mason chuckled but his eyes betrayed how worried he felt. "You're not that bad."

"How d'y'know?" He slurred.

Mason just gave him a blank stare.

Jamie just groaned.

"Here," Mason was picking up the bowl of soup from Jamie's side table. "Have some of this."

Jamie picked up the spoon, but when he almost dropped it, Mason took it from him. "Here, let me."

"What? I c'n eat."

"Sure, if you consider spilling soup all over your bed as eating."

Jamie tried to glare at the Latino, but his stare was broken when he sneezed.

"Jamie," Mason said firmly.

Jamie thought about how weak his arms felt and "...fine," reluctantly let the other feed him his soup.

Mason had this odd look on his face the few times Jamie was able to gather enough courage to look at his face. He couldn't meet his eyes, though.

It didn't take too long for Jamie to finish his soup, but he was embarrassed about being fed like a child, and he could only hope that it would look like his cheeks were only red from his fever.

When the bowl was back on his table, Jamie nestled his way back down into his nest of blankets, wanting nothing more than to hide from Mason. That was a new feeling, and one he didn't like.

As he was getting settled in, Jamie felt his eyes starting to droop, so he got settled in for a nap. When he realized that he didn't hear Mason leave he peeked over his blankets he was surprised to see Mason making himself comfortable at his desk and taking a book and a binder out of his bag.

"You don't have to stay."

"I'm not leaving."

"But-"

"Jamie. I'll be fine. 'Sides, I've got this book that I need to read for AP English."

Jamie tried to get comfortable but found it difficult with how hot it was under all the blankets.

They were sitting there in silence, minus for Jamie's shifting around when the blond suddenly flung the blankets off of himself.

Mason looked up from the book. "Jamie?"

"'M hot," he groaned out.

"Well, that's too bad," Mason said as he got up and fixed the blankets back to where they were draped over him. "You're going to have to suffer through it until your fever breaks."

Jamie let out a high whine.

He shuffled around until his feet were propped against the wall, out from under the blankets, and his head was at the edge of the mattress.

It was quiet again for a few moments until Jamie huffed.

Mason looked up. "Yes?"

"'M bored," Jamie complained as he pouted, looking at the other as his head hung upside down off the edge.

"Well, you're not leaving your bed, so," he trailed off as he shrugged. "You shouldn't hang your head like that. It'll hurt your head even more."

He was right, of course, so Jamie flipped over (slowly, cause his head was still pounding) to properly look at Mason. They just stared at each other for a few seconds before Jamie blurted out; "Read me some of your book."

"What?" Mason sounded caught off guard. "You sure? I thought you didn't like Shakespeare."

"I don't," Jamie shrugged as he kept looking at Mason expectantly.

"Um, okay. You want me to start from the beginning, I guess?"

"Doesn't matter," Jamie shrugged again. "Continue where you are, you'll get further that way."

"Even though you'll be lost?"

"I'd be lost anyway."

"Okay." Mason started reading from the page he was on, and he was right (again), because Jamie was totally lost, more than if he started from the beginning. So, instead of trying to figure it out, Jamie closed his eyes, tuned out what Mason was saying, and just listened to the sound of Mason's voice.


When Jamie next had a coherent thought, he noticed that Mason wasn't reading out loud anymore.

He wanted to lift his head, wanted to open his eyes to check the time or to look at Mason, check if he was still there, but found both his head and eyelids too heavy to lift or open. So he nuzzled into his pillow and let himself drift off again.


The next time Jamie woke up, he was more awake than the last time.

He was facing the wall when he opened his eyes, so he rolled over, only to find Mason already looking at him. Jamie felt himself jerk back at the unexpected stare.

"Sorry, I heard your breath lighten up, so I knew you were awake."

Jamie wasn't sure if he heard him right. "Dude, what?" His voice thick with sleep. Then he noticed that his nose was stuffed up. "Aw, shit."

Mason raised an eyebrow.

"Can't breath through my nose," he explained.

"Ah, okay. Yeah, definitely sound like it." He grabbed a tissue box and passed it to Jamie along with his garbage can. "Here."

"Thanks," Jamie accepted the items and blew his nose a couple times before giving up after dirtying a bunch of tissues without successfully clearing his nose.

He groaned as he dropped the dirty tissues in the trash and put the box beside him on the bed.

"How long was I asleep?" Jamie asked as he turned back to Mason who shrugged.

"About an hour and a half."

"Waz the time?"

"Almost one." Mason put a bookmark in his AP book. He was a lot further than when he started to read to Jamie.

Jamie closed his eyes and groaned as he felt a stabbing-like pain forming just above his eyes. He rubbed his forehead, but it just made it worse.

"What's wrong?"

"Headache."

"I'll go get you something to help."

Jamie kept his eyes closed and listened as Mason got up and walked out of his room and down the hall to the bathroom.

Jamie didn't really like that Mason had to take care of him, but at the same time, he liked when Mason's attention was on him and him alone. Mason was probably bored, though. How could watching someone lay sick in bed be anything but?

Part of Jamie wanted to tell Mason to just go and spend his time wisely, but then someone else would have to take care of Jamie. His mom was probably busy with the girls (he was surprised that they hadn't barged in and climbed on him yet), and that each was a handful on their own. To throw a sick Jamie in the mix would not help matters. Jamie amused himself for a second that he would take care of himself, but that got shut down right away. There was no way Mason would leave Jamie alone to take care of himself.

His best friend knew where all the medication and first aid kit was better than Jamie did. Between the two of them, it was always Jamie who got injured in some way when growing up. He was just naturally clumsy as he tripped over roots, and got hit with branches and scraped his knees when climbing trees or rocks.

It was as he was thinking this that he felt something cold on his forehead. Jamie jumped, startled at the unexpected touch, and opened his eyes to see that Mason had returned with a few bottles and an ice pack, which was the cold thing on his head.

"This," Mason held up one of the bottles, "is for the headache. The rest are for coughing, sneezing, sore throat, stuffy/runny nose, back pains, neck pains, other body pains and aches, dizziness, lightheadedness, and other general fever symptoms."

Jamie starred as Mason put the other bottles on his bedside table. "I didn't know we had all of those?" It ended up more as a question, as in, where did Mason find all of them?

Mason chuckled lightly as he opened the bottle left in his hand and dumped out two pills. "If you took a look in your medicine cabinet once in a while, you'd know. Here, take these with some water," Mason said as he passed over the pills and the glass of water that was already beside his bed, though the water was cold.

As Jamie swallowed them down, he also saw that the empty bowl from his soup was gone.

Mason, seeing where Jamie was looking, quickly explained. "I took the bowl, glass and warm ice pack downstairs when I left, and filled the cup and grabbed the new pack before coming back up to get the medicine from the bathroom." He took the cup from Jamie and set it back on the table.

Mason was a blessing and Jamie had no idea what he did to deserve a best friend as great as the one he had sitting in front of him.

"You were yourself, dude. You're my best friend and I like taking care of you, okay? You don't need to wonder why."

"Oh… did I-?"

"Say that out loud? Yeah, you did. You should rest for a bit. Let the medicine kick in."

Jamie sighed as he nodded, closing his eyes and leaning back into his pillows.

They were quiet for a few minutes before Jamie spoke again. "Were you wanting to do something?" He asked without opening his eyes.

"Dude, you're hella sick. You're not leaving this bed."

"Mmm okay." Jamie didn't even try to argue that point. He was quiet for a whole 3 seconds before asking; "Wanna watch a movie? I won't leave my bed, I promise." Was he asking permission to watch a movie in his own room? Jamie wasn't sure.

"Okay," Mason said after a moment. "Anything in particular?"

Jamie opened his eyes and slowly pushed himself up. He pushed the blankets off and swung his legs over the side.

"Hey, man, you shouldn't be getting up," Mason said as he brought his feet down from where they were resting on Jamie's desk.

Jamie disregarded his best friend's words and stood up anyways, almost falling over from dizziness when he tried to take a step.

"Jamie?" Mason's voice was firmer this time as he caught Jamie on his way to the floor, arms tight around his waist. How'd he get up quick enough to catch him?

"Laptop," was all Jamie said to explain as he pressed his face into Mason's shoulder. He felt like a ragdoll the way he was hanging limply in his best friend's arms.

"I could've gotten it. You promised you'd stay in bed," his tone was soft again as he lowered Jamie onto his bed, pushing him down and pulling the blankets back over him. "Where is it?"

"Backpack."

In no time, Mason had his laptop and was climbing over Jamie onto the other side of the bed.

"What're you… ?" Jamie trailed off his question.

"Shh, it'll be easier to watch this way."

"But-"

"Jamie. Do you trust me?"

"Yeah," Jamie replied without hesitation.

"Then just sit back and relax."

"But I'm sick. I'll get you sick too," Jamie protested anyways. "And then who'll take care of you? I'll still be sick, and you'll be sick, and it'll be gross," he went on. He was rambling and he knew it. Jamie rambled a lot and being sick always turned off what was left of his terrible brain-to-mouth filter.

"I'll be fine. You know it takes a lot to get me sick."

It was true. Mason didn't get sick very often. But then again, Jamie was worse than he's ever been.

He looked over to see that Mason had already logged onto his laptop - they had accounts on each other laptops for this reason - and was pulling up Netflix.

Knowing there was no swaying Mason, Jamie sighed and leaned back and watched as Mason flipped through the lists of shows and movies. He was still a bit dizzy from standing up, and the quick changing of movie titles and pictures weren't helping any, so Jamie closed his eyes and let Mason find something to watch.

"What sort of things are you wanting?"

Jamie vaguely felt like this wasn't the first time Mason asked him this question.

"Uh, something light? 'M too out of it for anything substantial."

"Substantial? That's a bit word for you. Especially like this."

"Oh, Shuddup." Jamie tried to shove Mason, but he didn't have enough energy to put much power behind it, so his fist just ended up flopping uselessly against his arm. Jamie was tired, so he just let it sit there without any intention of moving it. Was Mason's bicep always this firm? It kinda felt nice.

Whoa, that was kinda gay, wasn't it? Jamie tried to not be around Mason; he didn't know how he'd react. Despite the majority of him telling him to move his hand, Jamie ignored it. He was too tired and sick for that.

"Dragons?"

What? Oh, the movie. Right.

"Sure."

Jamie opened his eyes to see Mason clicking on the 'How To Train Your Dragon: Race To The Edge.'

As they watch as Hiccup and his friends going on adventures with their dragons and the Dragon Eye, Jamie finds himself drifting in and out of focus as he tried to not fall asleep. He kept missing parts and coming to only to realize that the characters were dealing with a new dragon each time.

Pretty soon, Mason noticed that Jamie wasn't really watching the show. That was probably because his head had somehow ended up on Mason's shoulder. Jamie sat up quickly and his vision swam for a few seconds before straightening out.

Mason was looking at him worriedly.

"'M fine," Jamie answered the silent question.

"C'mere," Mason said quietly, gently pulling Jamie so that he was half laying on him with his head once again resting against his shoulder. "Just relax." One of Mason's arms was around his back and was tracing invisible patterns on his arm.

Normally, Jamie didn't let himself cuddle into Mason like this even though he wanted to so badly, but instead of backing away and putting space between them, he pushed those feelings aside and decided to indulge himself in this only this once. He was too out of it to care.

In no time at all, Jamie felt himself slipping away again and this time, Jamie let himself go.