Author's Note: Carpathian Rose mentioned in their review that they imagined Zed getting sick from John. Well, after I read that I thought about it. And I thought about it. And it poked at me. It prodded me. So, I had to write it, even if it is just a short little blurb. Thank you, Carpathian Rose for the inspiration! Enjoy.

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4. Priorities

John was packing for another trip early in the morning. His lungs had finally cleared up, drowned out by a strong wave of renewed health. Feeling better than he had in weeks, the exorcists had decided it was high time he returned to the field. Hell knew he had a lot of work ahead of him.

There had been word of a strange number of occurrences in a single neighborhood, some blaming the hauntings for the site it was built on. Before it was developed for a quiet patch of suburbia, the land had been an old graveyard. Tattered and worn, the dead had been moved to a more suitable and grander home while the old burial yard had been torn down and bulldozed over. The odd incidences seemed pretty mild—considering what John had faced in the past—but work was work, no matter how small the case.

He was just stuffing another shirt into his bag when he heard a cough echo through the millhouse. John paused, listening intently as another ripping hack bounced across the place. He smirked, then frowned, mixed feelings poking at his gut.

Abandoning his bag, he wandered down the hallway. Chas had gone home to spend a little time with Renee, their marriage having found some repair after the whole fiasco with Geraldine. John couldn't be sure if it would last, but he was glad the bloke had found some happiness in this hellhole of a job.

Squaring his shoulders, he pushed his way into Zed's room, unsurprised to see her tightly bundled up in her blankets. He assumed the lump in the center of the mattress was the pretty, little psychic and moved cautiously into the room. Weary, large eyes opened slowly, staring blearily at the exorcist.

"Wha're you doin' here?" she mumbled tiredly, a few coughs tumbling from her mouth. He winced in sympathy, but hid it well under his usual rebel smirk.

"Got a bit of a cold, love?" he asked teasingly, watching her eyebrows gracefully arch in annoyance.

"No thanks t'you." she grumbled, pulling the blankets tighter around her.

He bit back a frown, instead inspecting her with concealed concern. "Sit tight, I'll be back in a bit."

John missed the look of confusion on her face as he briskly walked from the room, heading across the millhouse towards the kitchen. With practiced ease, he put a kettle on the stove and swiftly collected a few items for tea. When the water was hot, he carefully prepared the aromatic beverage, letting steep for just the right amount of time. Satisfied, he added a bit of milk, white blooming through the amber liquid and clouding its clarity. As he reached for the sugar, he stopped, smiling to himself. Without hesitation, he quickly opened the cupboard, pulling the honey from the shelf and adding a dollop into the mixture.

He tried not to think too long about it as he swirled the spoon around the cup.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he passed back through the main room and deftly punched a few buttons before pressing the device against his ear. Chas greeted him casually on the other end, still shaking off sleepy remnants of the early morning.

"We're going to have to investigate another day, mate." John explained quickly, not bothering to return the salutation. Chas made a quiet inquiry on the other end, his voice low and even in John's ear. "No, I think it can wait. Zed's come down with something." More talking from Chas. "No, no, nothing like that. Just a cold." There was a small wave of relief on the other end as John walked through Zed's open door, slowing as he approached her bedside. "I'll keep you updated, mate." After a quick farewell, he hung up and slid the phone into his pocket.

Zed looked up at him questioningly, her expression pinched in puzzlement. "Why aren't you goin'? I thought you had a case." she muttered roughly, coughing quietly.

"I did, but it can wait." he replied, helping her sit up as he offered her the warm mug. She latched both hands around the cup, weakly blowing the rising steam as it fluttered away. Zed gingerly took a sip, frowning as she looked back at John.

"Is there honey in this?" she rasped, her brow furrowing at the thought.

He smirked, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, some bird told me it'll help a sore throat."

Zed smiled into her cup, taking another slow sip. "And you're not leaving this morning?"

"Something came up; I have more important matters to attend to." he replied casually, a hidden meaning under every word. It didn't escape Zed. John shrugged, pulling an old chair from the corner of the room. "Besides, it's bloody cold out there."

Zed grinned, suppressing another wave of coughs. She'd always understood how unorganized John's priorities were. It didn't take long for her to realize the case had always been more important than his own wellbeing, no matter the consequence. It took her even less time to understand that the proper preparation of tea came before the case. However, even among the jumbled, confusing mess, Zed was starting to see what stood at the top of his priority list. What left cases forgotten and tea incorrectly prepared.

Because it wasn't often John Constantine showed he cared.