A/N: I generally don't like using the author's notes to describe what's going on within the story, but this is a bit of a special case. Yuri has three different voices in his head in this fic: his own, his Nana's, and Ragou's. It'll prolly be easy enough to work out which is which, but I felt it necessary to provide a warning about that going in.

Oh, and I yanked in another group of characters to fill out the cooking class. It is safe to assume that group A, upon hearing of the imminent cancellation, took steps to find some more students. Any one recognize the two groups of characters I'm name-checking? Please don't tell me I'm the only one old enough to remember the new guys.

This follows directly after "Fight or Flight," but includes some unresolved issues from "Cooking Lessons." Be sure to read those first.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

Yuri felt like crap when he woke up on Sunday morning, but that sort of went hand-in-hand with drinking binges and bar fights. Groaning, he tried to bury himself in the blankets, wishing consciousness would just go the fuck away. He felt a hand stroking up and down his arm through the covers, and remembered that Flynn had stayed the night with him. So much for getting to go back to sleep.

"Good morning. How are you feeling?"

Briefly, he considered listing out all his aches and pains. Flynn wasn't known to be particularly softhearted about consequences people brought on themselves, though. Yuri sniffed.

"I can't breathe."

"Not surprising. I think someone punched you in the nose last night."

That could have done it. His throat felt a little sore, too. He must have been yelling during the fight.

Swallowing didn't help. His mouth was dry. He clambered over Flynn, figuring he could go get a drink and then pass out on the couch for a little while longer. Before he actually made it to his feet, however, he spotted the half empty glass from last night sitting on the corner of his desk. He could just barely reach it, and finished off the water greedily before setting the glass aside and flopping down, half on the floor, half on Flynn.

"What are you doing?"

"Recovering from a hangover. What's it look like I'm doing?"

"You brought this on yourself." Flynn shoved at his legs as he sat up. "Get off me."

unwanted

He slid his legs off Flynn, curling up on the floor and trying not to remember the things Ragou had said to him.

Eventually, he'd have to get up. He was supposed to help out at the animal shelter. As much as he wanted to skip out, it was a completely different sort of responsibility from class. Besides, he kind of wanted to go see Repede, one of the dogs at the shelter. He could use a little quiet support.

"Would you like me to make you something for breakfast?"

"Hell no. I don't need you to finish me off."

"I can manage coffee and toast."

"You can manage turning on the coffee pot once I've set it up. Stay out of my kitchen."

Yuri pressed his face into the floor. He had to get up. He'd gotten up and moving through worse. Slowly, doing his best to hold his head still, he got to his feet. His nose felt hot and his right eye ached and watered. He sneezed and grimaced at the pain that shot through his head.

"The aspirin's on your desk. I'll go get you some more water to take it with."

"Thanks."

He was a little surprised that Flynn wasn't questioning him yet, but he was grateful. It wasn't an argument he was looking forward to, and there would be an argument. He wouldn't be repeating the things Ragou had said, not now, not ever. Flynn didn't need to know. They were just words anyway, and words didn't mean a fucking thing.

He grabbed the bottle of aspirin and stumbled his way out of his room, down the hall, and into the kitchen. Toast was a good idea. Toast was easy. Toast probably wouldn't make him throw up. Flynn was just filling a glass and handed it wordlessly over. Yuri tossed back a couple pills and braced himself on the counter as spots danced in his vision just from that one quick movement of his head.

"You look awful. Maybe you should go back to bed."

"Volunteering today."

"Not if you show up looking like that, you aren't. They'd send you home. Or put you down."

Yuri hesitated, caught between the lure of his soft, warm nest of blankets and the urge to go see Repede, who liked him no matter what he did. Flynn didn't wait for him to choose.

"I'll call and tell them you're not coming. Go get some rest."

Although his knee-jerk reaction to being bossed around was to do the exact opposite, Yuri had to agree that rest seemed like the smarter option just then. He slumped back to his room, wondering why he'd even bothered getting up in the first place.

good for nothing

He sank gracelessly onto his mattress and pulled the covers up. Faintly, he could hear Flynn talking, making his excuses for him. After a minute or two, quiet settled over the apartment. He was drifting off when the sound of the toaster popping caught his attention. He was half-expecting the blackened toast Flynn brought in shortly after that.

"It does this every time. We need a new toaster. I tried to scrape off the worst of it for you."

When Yuri made toast, it came out fine. The problem obviously did not lie with the technology.

"I've got to get going, soon. I'm supposed to go have lunch with Mom."

Flynn sighed, not looking terribly happy about the idea. He wasn't particularly close with his mother, but he still went to visit her every other week or so out of a sense of obligation. Yuri could remember the two of them being closer when Flynn was a kid, but the death of Flynn's father had hit them both pretty hard. From what Flynn had said, it seemed his mother had never quite gotten over it.

"See you later," Yuri mumbled.

He tore a corner off the toast and nibbled it as Flynn ran a hand through his hair before leaving him alone in his room.

For a little while, the soft, familiar noises of Flynn moving through the apartment kept Yuri company: muffled footsteps, quiet bumps and thuds, the sound of the shower. It wasn't long, however, before he caught the opening and closing of the front door and, a few minutes after that, the rev of a car engine.

Settling deeper into his blankets, Yuri coughed and felt it catch in his lungs. He wondered if he was getting sick, but just then he was too exhausted to care.

The slam of the front door woke Yuri abruptly. Disoriented, he jerked his head up, searching for the source of the noise, and winced as pain lanced through his skull. When he settled back down, his cheek came to rest on the squished and moist remnants of his breakfast, and he grimaced as he realized he'd ended up sleeping with his face pressed into the toast. He brushed the crumbs off and pushed the plate onto the floor. His throat was killing him, but even the idea of getting up made his headache throb sickeningly. Feeling pathetic, he hoped that Flynn would think to come check on him with a glass of water.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so bad off. The stuffiness of his nose hadn't decreased any and he ached all over. He hadn't thought the fight had been bad enough to leave him in such a sorry state, but the only other idea that came to mind was that he had gotten sick.

"I'm not sick," he muttered, burying his face in the mattress. His own breath irritated the burning dryness of his nose so badly that he had to turn his head aside after only a few seconds.

He shivered, wondering why it was so cold in his room. He'd kicked off the blankets in his sleep, and he couldn't reach them without moving his head, which wasn't really an option. Just as he was giving up on being able to reach the covers, a coughing fit took him, leaving him gasping and feeling like he was going to throw up. The pain in his head was excruciating, and he took several long, deep breaths once he was able in the hopes that calming his body would mean that his heart would stop shooting blood so hard through his neck and head.

"I'm not sick. Not sick…. Not sick…. Not sick…."

He mumbled the words like a plea. He hated being sick. It brought back bad memories.

At my age it's to be expected. I don't need a doctor, just some rest and a little chicken soup.

"Not sick, not sick, not sick, not—"

There was a soft knock on the door, and Flynn's voice carried quietly into his room.

"Yuri?"

Groaning, he managed to sit up as Flynn opened the door. The light from the hall sent spikes of pain through his head, and he rubbed a hand over his face, swaying.

"Any better?"

He probably could have taken the whole bottle of aspirin and not felt better. Flynn didn't bother to wait for him to decide how to answer, though. He flicked on the light and started forward. Unfortunately, the sudden brightness had caused Yuri to flinch, and the abrupt movement had been the last straw. His stomach lurched, and he scrambled to get his feet under him, shoving past Flynn in his clumsy rush to the bathroom.

Yuri made it just in time and hung his head over the toilet, retching. The strain made his head pound worse which turned his stomach in a vicious cycle until he was left gasping and shaking, cheeks wet with tears. At some point, Flynn had made it in to hold his hair back. He bent over Yuri, mouth twisted in a mixture of pity and that know-it-all expression he wore when Yuri fucked up doing something Flynn disapproved of.

nothing but a burden

He leaned back against the side of the tub and wiped his face on his sleeve. His nose hurt like hell, and his eyes were still tickly and watery. Wincing, he coughed weakly.

"Can I get some water?"

Crossing his arms, Flynn stood up and leaned against the counter. "I expect so. You made it in here quick enough. You were plenty capable of getting drunk and starting a fight. I don't see how getting yourself a glass of water should be any more taxing."

Right. With a sigh, Yuri laid his head against the cool porcelain. He just needed a minute to gather himself. He heard Flynn move a moment before he felt the warmth of a hand on his back.

"Are you all right?"

"Just a hangover."

It's just a little cold, dear. Nothing to worry about.

Not sick, not sick, not sick.

Determination didn't normally trump reality, but Yuri could summon up the kind of stubbornness that had made Flynn Scifo drop arguments before. He got to his feet and managed to walk out of the bathroom and all the way into the kitchen before he needed to lean on the counter for support.

Again, Flynn followed him. He rested his hands on Yuri's shoulders, steadying him.

"If you're that bad off, go back to bed. I'll make you some soup."

"I can do it."

"For God's sake, Yuri, it's soup! All I have to do is heat it up. How could I possibly mess that up?" He took a deep breath. When he spoke again, he was calm. "Go lay down. I'll bring it to you when it's ready."

"I need a glass of water."

"I'll get it." Flynn glared until Yuri gave up and started back to his room.

ignorant ungrateful punk

Slapping the light switch as he passed, Yuri sank down on his mattress, leaning up against the wall in the corner. Closing his eyes, he tried to let his mind go blank. Every time he pushed Ragou's nasty little rodent face out of his head, the image was replaced by memories of his Nana lying sick in bed. She'd never liked doctors or hospitals. He shouldn't have listened to her. He should have called someone. He shouldn't have let her—

"Here's your water."

"Thanks."

Blindly, he reached out. Flynn pressed the glass into his hand, and Yuri didn't hear him leave until after he'd taken a grateful swig. The water eased his headache a little and did wonders for his throat, though he still felt like there was something unpleasant clinging to the back of it. He sniffed and prodded his nose. Sore, but probably not broken. It was possible that it was swollen, rather than stuffed up. The headache and sore throat could be attributed to drinking and dehydration. The aches in his joints could easily have been from the fight, or from sleeping in a weird position. He had a hangover and was recovering from a fight. He wasn't sick.

Somehow, Flynn managed to bring him a bowl of edible soup. His talent for fucking up even the most basic meals was something Yuri had never understood, but he didn't have the energy to give Flynn a hard time. Instead, he simply accepted the steaming bowl with quiet thanks and hung his head over it as Flynn sat down on the edge of the mattress with his own bowl.

They ate in silence. Flynn must have been dying to ask about what had happened, but he held back. Maybe he was disappointed in Yuri, but at least he cared enough to leave him be until he'd recovered from the aftermath. It was more than Yuri deserved.

When he finished eating, Yuri set the bowl aside on his bed. He hadn't been particularly hungry, and most of the meat and vegetables remained after he'd drunk the broth.

"How was lunch?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

There wasn't any spite in his tone to indicate that he was refusing to talk because Yuri hadn't told him what had happened with Ragou. It had been a while since Yuri had seen Flynn's mom, but he talked about her often enough that Yuri had a general idea of what she was like. Flynn and his mom acted like family, but an act was all it really was. Whatever affection had existed between them had rotted away after Flynn's dad had been killed. Maybe Flynn was still hoping things would get better one day, but to Yuri it just looked like he was going through the motions out of obligation. He didn't understand it, but it wasn't any of his business, so he let the matter drop.

"Hey, what time is it, anyway?"

"About four. Have you been asleep since I left?"

"Guess so."

Four o'clock. He'd have to get up. He'd fuck up his sleep schedule if he went back to bed, and he had classes and work all day Monday. Besides, Flynn would worry if he let a little thing like a hangover get the best of him. He didn't want to make Flynn worry. He didn't want to be a burden.

Carefully, he stood up, his head protesting every little movement. Aspirin were definitely a necessity, but he couldn't remember where he'd left them. He picked up his bowl, but Flynn got to the plate of toast first.

"I can get the dishes."

"I'm fine."

At least he was walking straight for the most part. Maybe this was a little worse than usual, but he'd be back to normal in no time.

He found the aspirin sitting on the kitchen counter and swallowed two of them without bothering to wash them down. Flynn stepped up next to him beside the sink and dried the dishes after Yuri scrubbed them. Every now and again, their shoulders bumped as they shifted. The familiarity of the routine made Yuri feel a little better. The things Ragou had said didn't matter. Actions mattered. The way Flynn had stood by him for years mattered.

When they finished up, Yuri leaned deliberately against Flynn for a moment.

"Thanks. Gonna grab a shower."

"Don't slip and crack your head. I'm not sure how many more hits it can take." He reached up to ruffle Yuri's hair briefly

"Yeah, yeah."

A quick stop in to his room to grab a clean change of clothes, and then there was nothing between Yuri and a steamy, scalding shower. He let the water pound his neck and back, massaging some of his aches away. The steam helped clear his sinuses and eased the soreness in his throat. He stood under the water until it started feeling tepid, then hurriedly washed his hair. He was shivering as he got out, and by the time he was dressed, his teeth were chattering and his muscles would practically seize up under the tension it took to hold back the shaking.

Reluctantly leaving the sauna he'd made of his bathroom, he hurried back to his room and pulled on an ancient thrift store sweater over his t-shirt. He looked longingly at his bed for a moment, then grabbed one of his blankets, flung it around his shoulders, and ventured out into the living room, where he collapsed into a seat on the couch.

Flynn found him there half an hour later as he was flipping blankly through the channels.

"Chinese?"

"Huh? Oh. Sure. Sounds good." Anything that kept Flynn from cooking.

"Are you cold?"

Yes. "Not really."

"You're cocooned on the couch."

Yuri pulled up a smirk. "Care to join me?"

"I'm going to order dinner. You want some tea?"

"Lapsang. Four spoons of sugar. Nuke it for one minute."

"I know how to make tea, Yuri." He disappeared into the kitchen.

"Don't leave the spoon in the mug when you nuke it."

"I'm not a child."

"And don't open the tea bag."

"That was one time!"

Yuri started to laugh, but it quickly turned into a cough. He huddled in his blanket once the fit had passed. Notsicknotsicknotsicknotsick !

"Here."

A mug of tea was thrust in front of him, and he looked up to see Flynn studying him with open concern.

"Are you sure you aren't getting—"

"What are you ordering from the Chinese place?"

They had a short argument about what to get. In the end, Flynn ordered both dishes, anyway. He insisted on paying when the deliveryman showed up, and Yuri gritted his teeth and kept quiet, figuring he'd find a way to pay Flynn back when he wouldn't notice. Yuri earned enough money to support himself. He didn't need Flynn paying his share of anything.

nothing but a leech

The smell of the food turned Yuri's stomach. He ate a little to keep Flynn from asking questions, but he mostly just wanted another cup of tea and about a month to sleep.

Flynn took over the TV. Yuri managed to stay awake though a couple episodes of Poirot, grunting every now and again in response as Flynn talked half to him and half to himself while trying to solve the mystery before the detective.

Shortly after ten in the evening, Yuri woke up in the quiet darkness of the deserted living room. He was lying on the couch in a position he definitely couldn't have simply slumped into. Flynn had probably tried to get him settled in more comfortably before going to bed. He forced himself off the couch, irritated to find that his shivering started up again at the first rush of air. It couldn't possibly be that cold in the apartment.

Drawing his blanket tight around himself, Yuri plodded down the hall and into his room. He set his alarm, dropped into bed, and tried to go back to sleep. His sore throat had worsened to the point where it was painful to swallow. It kept him up most of the night, only easing in the gray hours before dawn.

Monday was not a good day.

Yuri's alarm—which had its own special place in hell, he was sure—woke him after only a few hours of decent sleep. He slapped the button to shut it off and groaned. He had a few early classes, a shift at the coffee shop, more classes, and his third shift job to cap it all off. He still felt like hell, and all he wanted to do was pull up the covers and call in, but that would have left him alone with his thoughts and his memories. He couldn't handle that, not just then when he was already feeling low.

Sniffling and coughing, unable to deny anymore that he had gotten sick, he crawled out of bed and got dressed and ready to go. Half a piece of toast was all he could stomach for breakfast, and he resolved to stop by a drug store at some point for some medicine.

It was just a little cold, no big deal. He just needed to grin and bear it and it would be over in a few days. People caught colds all the time.

Don't call the doctors. I'll be fine in a few days; you wait and see.

Yuri left, slamming the door on the apartment, on his thoughts, and hoping that the roar of his motorcycle would be loud enough to drown out the voices that kept whispering through his mind.

As bad as Monday had been, Tuesday was worse.

Exhausted by the time he'd gotten home from his job, Yuri had half expected to pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow. Instead, he was wracked with coughing fits. Somehow, he managed to avoid waking Flynn and, when he heard Flynn's door open early that morning, he tried to cough into his pillow to muffle the noise. After a while, Flynn finished getting ready and left for his classes. It meant Yuri had about four hours until he needed to get ready and head to the Y for the cooking class he taught. He got up, and made himself some tea with a generous amount of honey in the hopes that it would help his cough. His phone had an alarm function, and he set that before curling up on the couch, clutching his tea and barely able to keep his eyes open.

Somehow, he managed to get a little bit of sleep before the alarm on his phone called him back to the waking world. When he got up, he kicked over his empty mug. He didn't remember having set it down.

Sluggishly, weary to the bone and aching, he got dressed and tied his hair back. When he went to wash his face, he noticed the sheen of sweat over his skin and the flush across his face. He pressed a hand to his forehead, grimacing at the heat. Despite that, he was still having trouble getting warm and grabbed a bulky hoodie to wear over his sweater.

His appetite still hadn't returned but, before leaving, he took a couple of aspirin and downed a glass of water. Yesterday, he hadn't made it to the drugstore, and he didn't have time before class. Maybe afterwards….

He was almost late. Billy took one look at him on his way to the front and met him behind the counter.

"You don't look so good."

"Rough weekend."

Trini stepped up beside Billy and motioned Amy over. The other students were breaking off conversations to stare, wondering what was going on, as Amy reached out to feel Yuri's forehead.

"Oh! Yuri, you're very warm. You should probably go see a doctor."

"At the very least, you shouldn't have come in," Trini added. "You could have just called the center to cancel for today."

Yuri tried to wave them off. "I'm all right. Besides, I'm already here. May as well have a lesson."

Mina came up to join the group at the front, and rested her hand on Yuri's. "If you aren't feeling well, rest is the best thing. You should go on home and take it easy. Have your cute roommate fix you up some chicken soup!"

The thought of Flynn cooking automatically made Yuri shudder, never mind that canned soup was apparently on the small list of things he could manage on his own. He tried once more to insist on carrying on, but Amy and Billy were already clearing everyone out. They encouraged him once more to go see a doctor and wished him a speedy recovery as they left.

always be a failure

He sighed into the empty classroom and wondered how to kill the few hours before he had to be in class again. Feeling a little lightheaded, he sank down onto one of the stools and rested his forehead on the cool tabletop. He just needed a minute.

No doctors. I'm

dead in a ditch somewhere you ignorant ungrateful

"Yuri."

Yuri sat bolt upright and swayed on the seat. When he could focus again, he saw Vicky Heurassein staring at him, hands on her hips.

"Mrs. Heurassein. Sorry, I—"

She held up a hand. "Don't. Your students explained to me. It's a good thing I came to check on you. Go home. Get some rest. I'll let them know Thursday's class is cancelled."

never amount to anything

Couldn't argue with that. Yuri slid gracelessly off the stool. It took him a bit longer than he liked to get his balance, but he was steady enough on the way out. He would just have to wait at the college. There was an alcove set up with a couple chairs and a table near his first class for the evening. He would set an alarm when he got there, just in case he drifted off again.

It wasn't his alarm that woke him. Yuri was pulled out of dreams of his Nana shaking him, ordering him over and over not to call the doctor, to find Judy leaning over him looking unusually concerned.

"Yuri? Are you all right? You were talking in your sleep."

"Nana's sick," he mumbled.

"I don't think she's the only one. You look terrible." She tugged on his arm. "Can you stand up?"

He let her pull him to his feet and lead him out to her car in the parking lot. Standing unsteadily, he watched as she opened the passenger door.

"Hop in. I'll take you home."

Home. Good. Someone needed to take care of Nana. She didn't want any doctors. She'd told him over and over: no doctors.

"That's her choice, but I don't really think you're in any condition to take care of her."

He peered at Judy. Had he been talking out loud?

"Once we get you back to your apartment, I'll have Flynn call to check on your Nana, all right?"

"'Kay."

nothing but a burden on everyone

"I'm not. I take care of Nana."

lying good for nothing

"You can take care of your Nana after we get you taken care of. I'm surprised Flynn let you out of the apartment in this state."

"Flynn's at school."

"I see. Why don't you try to get some sleep on the ride home? You look like you could use it."

Sleep. Right. He hadn't really slept since… since….

The slam of a car door jolted Yuri awake and he struggled briefly against the seatbelt before realizing where he was. Judy opened his door and smiled down at him.

"Here we are. Home, sweet home."

This isn't Nana's house.

"I don't know where she lives. We're going to have Flynn call her, remember?"

She helped him out of the car and up the stairs. Yuri fumbled for his keys. He stared at them until Judy plucked them out of his open hand. He didn't have a key for his Nana's house. That was all right, though. She didn't live there anymore.

He let Judy usher him inside and get him settled on the couch. She left him there just long enough to fetch a pillow and blanket from his room to make him more comfortable.

"It doesn't look like Flynn's home. Let me see your phone. I'll give him a call and then we can call your Nana and check up on her."

Yuri pulled his phone out of his pocket and passed it over. He shivered and curled up tighter under the blanket as Judy lifted the phone to her ear.

"… you so much for getting him home. I'm sorry it took so long to get back."

Yuri shivered. He was drenched in sweat. The blankets were stifling, but he was still cold and he knew he'd freeze if he pushed them away.

Just a little cold

Nana's got a cold.

A warm hand came to rest on his forehead and he heard Flynn's voice. "You're burning up."

Have to go take care of Nana.

"Yuri…." He sighed. "Can you get up? We need to get you to the hospital."

His eyes flew open. "No hospitals! Na-nana says no d-d-doctors!"

The shivering was getting worse. He clenched his teeth to stop it, but it kept coming back. As soon as his mind started to wander and his jaw relaxed, the chattering started again, over and over. He was going to break apart if it didn't stop.

"Open your mouth. I want to take your temperature."

Nana's sick.

"I know about your Nana. It's you I'm worried about right now."

He slipped the thermometer under Yuri's tongue and held it there, stroking his hair for the short time it took to get a reading. He sighed heavily when he pulled it out.

"Where's Judy with that ibuprofen?"

Judy's gonna check on Nana.

"Don't worry about her. Get up. We need to cool you down."

Freezing.

"Not according to the thermometer. Come on."

Flynn yanked the blanket away and pulled Yuri up off the couch. He half walked, half dragged him to the bathroom where he set about stripping off Yuri's sweat-drenched clothes.

I'm cold, Flynn.

"I know. I'm sorry." He kissed Yuri's forehead and helped him into the tub. "Sit down, all right? This will make it better."

"Flynn…? I'm back."

"Thank God. We're in here, Judy."

Yuri stared across the tub. The shadows and stains of the shower wall faded away, blurring into a white void that twisted and edged closer or drew him in, he wasn't sure which. He could hear Judy and Flynn speaking behind him.

"Here you go. Do you need me to stay?"

"No. I'm going to give him a couple hours to see if his fever breaks. If it doesn't, we're going to the…. I'll take him to get some help."

"All right. Call me if you need anything."

"Thank you."

Yuri heard the door click shut, then Flynn was leaning over the tub, turning on the taps. The water that rushed out was cool, and Yuri drew up his knees, shuddering. Flynn rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Bear with it, all right? It'll help. I'm right here. I've got something for you to take—damn. Water. You need a glass of water." The warmth of his hand disappeared, and Yuri heard the door again. "Judy…! Oh."

"Thought you might need this."

"You're a mind reader. Or a lifesaver. Something. Thank you."

"Make sure he doesn't drown."

The door clicked again. Flynn was back again. He shook a couple pills out of a bottle and offered them to Yuri.

"Take these."

Though Yuri managed to get the pills into his mouth, Flynn had to help him hold the glass. Yuri drained every last drop and Flynn settled down beside the tub, leaning his head against Yuri's and stroking his hair.

As he sat shivering in the water, Yuri muttered and mumbled to himself. He knew most of what he said was about his Nana, but once the words passed his lips, he forgot them immediately. It felt almost like he was sitting to the side and only half-listening to himself. A tiny part of him knew he wasn't making much sense, but that tiny voice had no influence over what was going on.

Flynn kept taking his temperature. The repetition did strange things to Yuri's already messed up sense of time. The last time he did it, he sighed and let the water drain out of the tub.

"You aren't back to normal yet, but at least your body isn't cooking itself anymore. Can you stand up if I help?"

His whole body felt like it was made of jell-o. He wasn't sure what was holding his bones together, and he braced himself on the sides of the tub carefully, a little afraid that a wrong move might cause him to fall apart. He was weak and shaky and had to lean heavily on Flynn all the way back to his room.

Between the two of them, they somehow managed to get Yuri into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. He collapsed onto his bed as soon as he was able, the dry sheets seeming amazingly warm after the cool bath. He was still shivering, though not nearly as badly as he had been, and he wrapped himself gratefully in the thick blanket Flynn brought him, turning to face the wall.

"I'm leaving a glass of water by your bed. You should take another couple pills in a few hours. I'll come remind you."

"No lecture?"

"I'll save it for when you're more likely to remember."

Memory wasn't a problem. He'd been wishing for days that his memory wasn't quite so good.

"Did you explain to Judy about Nana?"

"…I didn't think it was my place to say. I don't know what you've told her about your past."

Pretty much nothing. It wasn't that Yuri hid his past; he just didn't bring it up. If Judy had ever asked, he would have told her, but she wasn't one to pry. He got the feeling that she had things she didn't want to talk about, too.

"I'll explain tomorrow. Sorry for the trouble."

Flynn sighed, and Yuri felt him sit down on the mattress. It had been the wrong thing to say. The lecture Flynn had promised to hold back started pouring out.

"There wouldn't have been any trouble if you'd just taken care of yourself in the first place. You should have said something and gotten yourself some medicine, taken it easy. Instead, you ignored your symptoms and wore yourself out, and the next thing I know, I've got three voicemails from Judy when I get out of the library telling me that you're running a fever and she can't find your Nana's number in your cell phone. Do you have any idea what was going through my head when I heard you were asking for your dead grandmother?"

"…sorry…."

"I've never even seen you sick before, and then, you wouldn't even let me take you to a hospital!"

"I'm sorry!"

Yuri curled as tightly into the blankets as he could. He'd done exactly the same thing his Nana had done, hadn't he? On his best days, he could admit that preventing a ten-year-old boy from calling a doctor when she knew she was already in poor health had been an awful thing to do. Logic didn't do much for the guilt, though. It had fucked him up pretty good, knowing that he could have disobeyed and called someone for help and maybe she would have lived. Maybe that cold wouldn't have been the last straw. There was no telling, and no going back. He had to live with the choice he'd made.

Flynn was quiet for long enough that Yuri hoped he would just get up and leave. He'd never been that lucky, though.

"I'm sorry," Flynn said quietly. "What I said just then…. You talked a lot about your Nana when you were in the tub, but I thought it was just delirium. You'd told me before that she died of heart failure."

"She had a condition. Cold made it worse." He didn't want to talk about it.

"Do you remember all the things you said?"

"No."

He went silent again for a few minutes, though Yuri could hear him fidgeting. It was only a matter of time before Flynn spoke up.

"I…. Listen, if this doesn't make any sense, then don't worry about it. I can't say that you don't drive me absolutely crazy sometimes, but if I think about never having met you, it's one of the worst things I can imagine. You're a good person, Yuri. You're important to me, and you've got friends that care about you, too. I think just that is enough to redeem someone."

Yuri felt his eyes start to sting and his nose was fast getting stuffed up. Was that all his Nana had meant when she'd said he was his mother's redemption? Just him? Not what he would become or what he would do, but just that little boy her daughter had left her burdened with? He'd told himself for years that words didn't mean anything. He'd had to believe that to keep going, some days. Just then, however, he really wanted to believe Flynn's words.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"You've got class in the morning."

"I'm skipping. I've already asked Sodia to take notes for me."

"You'll get sick."

"I'll eat lots of chicken soup and Vitamin C."

"…If you catch a cold, I don't wanna be lectured about it. You only get to yell at me about stuff that's my fault."

"That sounds fair."

He lay down behind Yuri, molding himself to the curve of Yuri's body as he threw an arm over the top of the blanket. Sniffling, Yuri wiped his eyes. He must have used up all his luck finding someone like Flynn.

"Are you going to be all right?" The question wasn't just about his health.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Anytime."

Yuri felt Flynn kiss the back of his head, and he smiled a little as he closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep.