The world was blurry.

It took Watanuki a few, long minutes to realise that everything was blurry because his glasses had been taken away, but looking for them required effort that he didn't have to spend. He could make out the surroundings enough to know that this wasn't his house. It wasn't Yuuko's shop. It was-

"Yuuko told me to bring you here."

Right. No wonder the place was familiar.

"Doumeki," he muttered, tilting his head. The headache intensified with the movement, making the nausea swim back and the vertigo spin wildly. "... Ow."

"You've got a fever."

Watanuki sighed thinly, draping his arm over his eyes. "... Wonderful." The darkness helped. His eyes hurt, and the light hurt his head.

"Yuuko told me to take care of you."

It was said in the flattest tone of voice, and it still managed to irk Watanuki's nerves. He wanted to growl about it, but he laughed humorlessly instead. "Of course she did... She revels in my misfortune... time spent with you..."

Doumeki didn't respond, but there was rustling of fabric and the steps of stocking feet on the floor that led away seconds later. Watanuki didn't expect Doumeki to say anything. He didn't know what he even would. He didn't know why he had to stay with Doumeki while he was sick, maybe when he got enough strength back to get to his feet, he'd leave then...

"Here."

Watanuki tilted his arm away to look up. He hadn't heard Doumeki come back, but he was standing next to him now.

"You should take these." Doumeki knelt down, holding out a box to him.

Watanuki blinked at it blearily before reaching up to take it wearily. He squinted at the box, felt for his glasses, and slowly watched as the box came into clarity after he had put his glasses on. Cold medicine. "... Oh." He blew out a breath, fumbling to peel open the box.

Doumeki stood up without another word and padded away, vanishing around the corner towards the way of the kitchen.

By the time that Watanuki managed to pop two of the tablets out of the packaging, though, Doumeki was back with a cup in hand.

"Tea," Doumeki said flatly.

For one, wild moment, Watanuki thought that Doumeki was demanding snacks and drinks from him again. But then he realised that the tea Doumeki was talking about was in the cup he was holding, and he was offering it to Watanuki. Doumeki was giving him tea.

"It's just lukewarm."

Watanuki swallowed a huff and hauled his uncooperative body into a sitting position, taking the tea. He put the pills in his mouth and chased them down with a gulp before they could turn to chalk on his tongue. They went down fine, but it left Watanuki with a bad taste in his mouth and a sick feeling in his stomach. He didn't think he should drink any more of the tea just then.

"You should drink." Doumeki, the know-it-all...!

Watanuki had never handled being ill very well. Even if it was just the most simple cold, it wedged into his immune system and tore him down, eating away at his defenses until there was little left. It was as mentally taxing as it was physically. Maybe that was why his hands shook as he hastened to put the cup down despite Doumeki's suggestions.

And he didn't really want to puke in front of him, either. He was positive that he would never hear the end of it.

"Don't be an idiot."

"I can't-" His explanation was cut short as his shaking fingers and Doumeki's reaching hand settled the cup off balance, spilling what lukewarm tea had been in the cup onto the blanket and floor. "Doume-" He had to stop talking just then, his protests cut off once again, as burning acid stung the back of his throat and he clamped his hand over his mouth. No, he could not throw up-

"Don't throw up."

Watanuki muffled a weak laugh against his hand. How could Doumeki always so calm about everything? "... I'm not going to," he mumbled, slowly lowering his fingers. If I can help it.

Doumeki stood up again, silently leaving the room and coming back with a cloth to clean up the spilled tea. He was methodical. And silent. It was unnerving. And irritating. Watanuki would have complained about it or just cleaned it up himself, but he'd dropped back into the futon in an effort to stop his upset stomach from getting worse.

The blanket moved. Watanuki clung onto it stubbornly before realizing that Doumeki was the one moving it. "What?" he asked wearily.

"It's wet."

"It's just a little wet. I'm okay," Watanuki muttered.

"It's wet," Doumeki repeated, unceremoniously tugging the blanket free of Watanuki's fingers without another word.

"Ugh, Doumeki." Watanuki shivered. He was sure that it wasn't as cold as it felt like, he was sure that that was the fever, but it didn't help when the blanket was whisked away.

"Wait."

"Great..." Watanuki sighed, folding his arms over his eyes again. Sleeping over at Doumeki's temple was the last thing that he had wanted to do. He wondered if Yuuko wondered how he was. He wondered if she would make him pay for the missed day of work. Who was he kidding... Of course she would. This was Yuuko he was talking about.

"I have clothes."

Watanuki tilted his head towards the voice, towards Doumeki, who was standing in the open shoji unfolding a fresh blanket. "And?"

"If you wanted to change," Doumeki said.

"Oh. I'm okay."

"You're spending the night."

"Don't say it so matter-of-factly," Watanuki griped.

"Do you want to walk home?" Doumeki replied bluntly.

He wanted to argue. He really, really did. Instead, he sighed. "No," he breathed. He didn't want to believe it himself. Maybe, if he said it quietly, it wouldn't be true-

The blanket landed on the floor next to him, something indigo twisted within its folds. Watanuki clumsily pulled them apart, finding the indigo pieces to be a jinbei set. Unsurprising traditional, but there was something nice about it, too. Even a brute like Doumeki could do traditional. It was pretty obvious why, but, then... well, Watanuki only had one jinbei, so weathered that he barely wore it anymore.

"You can change." Doumeki stepped out of the room, sliding the shoji closed.

Watanuki sighed. It was going to be a long night. He could just tell.

It was a struggle to get out of his uniform and into the jinbei, and his movement only exacerbated the sickness clinging to his body. By the time that he'd gotten the jinbei tied securely, he was woozy again and unsteady on his feet. He wanted to splash some cool water on his face and use the toilet before he went back to sleep, though, so he was trying to coax himself into just a few more minutes and you can crawl back to Doumeki's extra futon like the pathetic person you are.

"Where are you going?"

Watanuki jumped, and then scowled. "I thought you were leaving so I could change." He leaned his shoulder against the wall. He couldn't stop shaking.

Doumeki's eyes swept down Watanuki's body, and then back up, in a exaggerated motion. "You've changed."

"Yeah, well, how did you know I was finished?" He huffed, turning away to squeeze his eyes shut briefly. He hoped the medicine kicked in soon, or that it at least had something in it that would make him sleep. The sooner this was over, the better.

Mr. Blank Slate was back - not that he ever really left! - as Doumeki stared at him pointedly. Watanuki wasn't sure of the meaning, although it seemed to ooze really? without the words being necessary.

"Where are you going?" Doumeki repeated.

"Nowhere, I-"

"You need to be resting."

"I'm going to wash up!"

Doumeki narrowed his eyes.

Watanuki still didn't know what he wanted from him with the beady-eyed look, so he ignored him in favor of heading to the toilet. His legs were shaky from the strain of getting dressed, and his feet were too heavy. It was going to take ages at this rate.

"Just ask."

Watanuki glanced up, again startled by Doumeki's presence so close to him. He was standing just a few paces away, although evidently interested in something else at the other side of the room given the steely gaze locked onto whatever else, hand extended to him. Watanuki stared at Doumeki's extended hand blankly.

"... No way! I'm not holding onto your hand again, the spirit parade was enough!" Watanuki scrabbled against the wall for purchase, planning on putting as much space between him and Doumeki as possible as quickly as possible. "Never again, you creep!"

But the fever ravaging his body had other plans. Before he'd gone five feet, he felt his knees buckle again. The expected smack of his nose hitting the tatami didn't come though; the pressure of fingers around his arm caught him and hauled him back up before he could fall.

"Moron."

"What did you just-" Watanuki gave up halfway through his complaint, shoulders slumping. He was just too tired.

"Lean on me."

Doumeki didn't look at him as he said it. If anyone else had been there, Watanuki wouldn't have believed that Doumeki had been the one to say it, he still looked completely unfazed as he stared ahead. His poker face really got on his nerves. But maybe... maybe unemotionalism was a good thing for him right now? Doumeki... probably... wouldn't... make a big deal out of this, or anything, because he was always so straight-faced. ... Probably.

Watanuki worried at the inside of his cheek. Maybe just this once. After all, he might die and not have to live to face Doumeki again, it was possible. He reached out for Doumeki's arm. Hesitated. And then let Doumeki be a human crutch, taking on the weight that Watanuki couldn't carry right now alone.

A/N: Let me just say that the spirit parade was one of my favourite episodes in S1. *o* I love the DouWata bond, whether you ship it or not.

Still don't own xxxHolic. CLAMP does.
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