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"Carrie, what's wrong?" asked Will; Carrie was silently watching the dark sky outside, the path lit up by only the moonlight. Swiftly, she put back every book in their correct place. Her throat was getting tighter by the second but she forced a smile as she turned around to face him.

"Nothing… it's starting to get late though, I think I should go home." She got up before he could usher a word and headed to the small library counter, run by a tired-looking teenage boy. Trying to keep up, Will followed her and noticed how she kept staring outside and kept fiddling a half rusty gold bracelet on her wrist. He waited until she checked out the two books she held: Stephen King's The Green Mile, and another book which surprised Will – a children's book. The cover of the children's book was quite dark and represented a little boy going through a forest with a lantern. He made a mental note to ask her about her strange choice afterwards.

When she got her books back, Carrie told the teenager to 'have a nice day' -and embarrassingly realised afterwards that it was already night. Her head was starting to hurt. She and Will walked out of the bookstore into the freezing night air, and Carrie, shivering, decided to button up her coat again. Will watched the stars. She was done in less than two minutes, but when she turned her gaze to her friend, she saw that he was still contemplating the night sky. She looked up, ignoring her headache.

The stars where scattered like dust above their heads, in an endless invisibility.

The cold of December nipped pleasantly at Will's neck as they admired the view for a minute that seemed longer than the usual. It could be called strange to admire the sky for so long with their necks twisted, called stupid to care for what we'll never know. Carrie, however, always believed it was a waste not to wonder outside of the glass box. After all, a bird can still admire the view in between bars of its cage.

"Will?" she asked, her icy breath forming a cloud, her face still pointing upwards.

"Mm?" he mumbled casually in reply with his mouth closed.

"…Thanks." Her voice sounded almost persistent although the word was buffering in her mind. She looked back at him before he did and they stared at each other for a moment. He offered her a genuine smile, which she returned. They understood each other. Will felt at peace during those few minutes and somehow he knew what she meant, and how she felt.

After a moment, Carrie realised that she was supposed to go home. Snapping her gaze back to her surroundings, she hurt her neck. She hissed loudly, rubbing the painful part with her eyes shut.

"Are you okay?" said Will, who had noticed, in a worried tone.

She remembered she had to walk all the way home and she felt her head ache start to deepen. Her other hand went to her forehead, cooling it down with her icy palm. It truly was cold tonight; however, right now she felt extremely warm… Releasing both her hands, Carrie unbuttoned the buttons of her coat with her freezing fingers. Her eyes hurt too. Once the buttons were undone, she started removing her coat. Will saw what she was doing and immediately caught on. He didn't really like any sort of physical contact with people he just met, but he pushed that aside for now. Placing his right hand on Carrie's forehead and his left on his own, he confirmed his suspicions.

"Carrie, I'm pretty sure you're ill." He told her. Noticing she had forgot what she was doing –either due to her tiredness or due to him taking her temperature, which he felt quite guilty about-; he slid the coat back up her arms and buttoned it for her fluidly, not unlike to a child. Carrie looked at Will with large, tired, eyes that glimmered in the light of an orange lamppost, before smiling at him.

"OK, I'm heading home then. See you next time, Will" She told him, muffling a yawn.

"I think I should walk you home", he said, "Where do you live?"

"Near Dr. Lecter's office" she answered, with her eyelids one quarter shut already.

"That's an hour walk from here. Are you sure you're not too tired to walk for that long?" he asked her, knowing the answer.

"'Course, I can walk. I-…" the rest of the syllables weren't comprehensible as she finally succumbed to a big yawn. Will chuckled.

"Listen," he began sort of uncomfortably, "I live not far away from here. You can stay in my guest bedroom tonight, if you want. I mean, it's not very big or fancy or anything, but it's better than letting you walk alone in the dark for an hour… what do you say?" Although he didn't say it out loud, he thought about how guilty he would feel if something happened to Carrie while she was walking home. Their eyes met: Carrie's wide with surprise, chasing away some of her tiredness and Will's eyes uncomfortably darting around a little. In any other situation, she would have said no thank you but she was sick, tired, and scared.

She managed to whisper a "Really?" and after seeing Will nod, she smiled back at him. "Thank you". Carrie felt relieved but also shocked at his offer. It seemed like she forgot a long time ago how nice friends could be towards each other.

"Let's go then?" Will asked. Carrie nodded, feeling sleep dwell on her. They walked side by side in the opposite direction than her home. "It takes around 10 minutes to get there. By the way do you like dogs?"

"Love 'em. Why?" she questioned, suspicious.

"Oh. No reason, just curious." Will answered, hiding his grin. Carrie shrugged to herself.

They walked side by side in a comfortable silence until they approached his house; they only saw it once they were 15 meters near it, because of the darkness.

"This is your house?"

"Yes."

"Awesome."

"Thanks."

They smiled at each other, before Carrie noticed a dog at the window. Her mouth and eyes widened in pleasant surprise. "You have a dog" she said as she saw other faces poke their heads, "Three... four dogs?" her head turned quizzically. Inside, she wanted to jump in joy but her head hurt and her arms and legs felt a little like jelly.

"…Twelve, actually." Will corrected her. Carrie turned to face him with a large smile tapped onto her face.

"You have no idea how happy this makes me." Will smiled at her; he couldn't help it. Carrie waited for him to walk onto his porch first; she had always been raised with proper manners and this wasn't her home. His house key clicked in the door and five dogs came out all at once to greet the new arrival. Carrie walked in behind Will and bent down to pet every single one of his dogs at least a few times to get to know them.

"Your place is very nice" she said politely while petting Winston.

"Thanks… It's kind of a mess though, sorry about that." He was busy picking up different things scattered around the floor and Carrie was simply letting him because she didn't want any awkward moments for him.

"What's his name?" she asked, still petting the dog, which seemed very calm compared to the others.

"That's Winston. He's the newest member of the club" Will said, earning a chuckle from Carrie. He watched her talk to Winston for a while, noticing how comfortable she was with the dogs around her. She would pet Winston, and pet another dog beside her, making sure the others weren't left out.

"Do you have a dog?" he asked her.

"No." she sighed, "I used too. Sam died 4 years ago." A cloud of silence filled the air.

"I'm sorry. …How long did you have her for?"

"12 years… "It didn't help Carrie to talk about it that Sam passed away 5 months before the… "Incident" happened. "Can we change subject please? I just…" she trailed off, not knowing how to explain and not wanting to.

"Sure." He replied immediately. "Do you want to see your room?" he asked, pointing to the hall behind him. Carrie nodded, getting up. She followed him in the corridor until they reached a door which led to a rather normal sized bedroom well decorated and extremely clean. The double bed was in the middle of the room, and a rather normal sized TV sat timidly in the corner on a tiny table, beside a large closet. Three of Will's dogs had followed them and were sitting on the carpet and lying on the bed, as if to await her judgement on the room.

"Wow. This is my room?" she asked, pleasantly taken aback.

"Yeah." Will answered, glad to see a positive reaction. "Sorry it's kind of… grim. And the TV doesn't work… you can watch TV in the living room though, if you want." He added with half a sad smile.

"It's great." Carrie told him, with an honest grin on her ill-flushed face.

"Well, I'm glad. I'll let you get comfortable then. Come on, guys: out of here. " he added to the three dogs, along with a whistle. They followed him out and Carrie was left to her own self. She admired the room for a bit, and wondered why Will had two bedrooms. Her headache was starting to drill through her skull, and she thought about asking Will for some aspirin if it didn't go away. She placed her cold hand on her forehead and closed her eyes as she sat on the edge of the bed, trying to make the pain go away with no success.

A head covered in fluid dark curls came by the door again. "Oh, and the bathroom is at the end of the hall that way" he pointed to the end of the corridor. "The toilet is the door just opposite. Can't miss it."

Carrie didn't notice he had come back in, and decided to take her coat off, noticing how warm Will's house was. Her fur coat landed on the bed, and she sighed at the air hitting her neck and arms. Under her coat was a deep black V-neck which revealed a little more than the beginning of her cleavage. She opened her eyes again, and saw Will standing at the door, rigid.

Both their faces turned a deep shade of pink.

Will tried not to stare at Carrie's V-neck, as her chest moved up and down slightly with each breath. He forced himself to look her in the eyes instead; he didn't want her to think he was trying to hook up with her or anything of the sort. The fact that she was sitting down and he could see a lot more than he should made this all the more difficult.

Carrie was blushing even more than Will, along with the resulting pink cheeks of her being sick. "Why did I decide to wear this?" she thought to herself angrily. Before leaving home, she had decided to grab something to put under her coat, and chose the V-neck because she liked it although she wasn't comfortable in it. So her decision was to wear it under her coat at least to see how it feels and maybe take the coat off if it got warm to make sure she didn't get any strange looks. Obviously, that plan had failed miserably.

Will spoke quickly as he looked her straight in the eye. "Um, did you have dinner yet?" Carrie shook her head, realising she was starting to get quite hungry. "Is… eggs and pasta okay?" Will asked.

"Yeah, thanks." She answered, the awkwardness shifting away little by little. "Do you need any help in the kitchen?"

"No, thank you. And you're ill, so just relax, OK?" he added with a small laugh. "You can watch TV in the living room since the one in here doesn't work."

"OK, thanks. By the way, which way is the bathroom?" Carrie asked. Will pointed once more to the end of the corridor and told her there was a new towel on the left rack; she thanked him and walked her way down. She went into the bathroom, which was small but not uncomfortable, and splashed some cold water on her face. After drying her face on the new towel Will had set out for her –for which she felt very grateful-, she stopped in her steps just before the living room to admire a painting she hadn't seen before along the wall.

Painted on there was the body of a pheasant. The dead bird lay on its side on top of a gun. In the black background, she could make out bottles of almost black wine and a full glass. The picture stirred something so deep inside Carrie's mind that she felt her mind go blank for a moment.

"…give strong drink to the one who is perishing, and wine to those in bitter distress." She murmured, her eyes filled with tears and her throat tighter than before.

"It's Monet."

Carrie let out a small shriek of surprise and turned her neck to see Will standing beside her. "One of his earliest work, when he was only in his twenties" he said thoughtfully, looking straight at the painting, before facing Carrie with a genuine smile that created small crow's feet in the corner of his eyes.

"Never would've guessed Monet. It's so different from his other work. His brush work is so much more defined here, more realistic." Carrie replied, surprised.

"That's what I thought too. I guess everyone changes their vision of life one day or the other." He smiled a sad smile that Carrie knew only too well. Carrie decided to pet him on the shoulder awkwardly, because it seemed like he needed a little comfort.

After a while, Carrie could be found on Will's sofa, watching cartoons. She had to tell a quizzical Will that she had always had a soft spot for Scooby-Doo. One of Will's smallest dogs lay on her knees, eyes closed. When Will had made dinner, Carrie thanked him again they went to the table to eat the eggs and pasta he had prepared. It wasn't particularly delicious, but it was good. While they ate, they conversed about art, and dogs. Carrie told him how she had once dropped a crisp into a river and puppy Sam dived in to save it. Will laughed; he told her how sometimes the lady at the shop would tell him to buy from somewhere else because they were running out of dog products. Carrie chuckled.

Once they had finished eating, Will offered Carrie an aspirin –which she took- that she didn't even have to ask for. He told her he was going to sleep and that if she ever needed something, she could just grab it. After ushering a 'goodnight', Will went to his bedroom that was connected to the living room, hoping to have a good night sleep. Carrie decided to go to bed too, hoping to have a good night sleep.

The loud creaking of a mattress and painful moaning woke Carrie up. Her phone said 04:21. Nervous, Carrie got up to follow the sounds, and soon realised it was coming from Will's room. All dogs were sleeping peacefully. Silently, she opened the door to check on him and saw him lying on his back, grabbing the sheets forcefully. For a moment she thought he was awake, but realised he was still sleeping, probably having a nightmare. Even from the door, Carrie could see that sweat had formed on his forehead. He was frowning, and had thrown the covers on the floor. Worried, she decided she had to do something. She went to the bathroom, making sure she didn't make any noise, and grabbed a small clean bucket that was beside the towels. Using things that didn't belong to her made her feel guilty, but she decided Will would forgive her. After filling the bucket with warm water and taking a towel with her, she went back to Will's room.

As she approached him closer, the pain on his face was clearly visible. "Maybe I'm contagious?" Carrie thought to herself. Winston was lying at the foot of his bed, although she could tell he was awake because his ears kept twitching at the sounds she was making. Kneeling down at the side of Will's bed, she soaked the towel and rinsed it in order to make it damp and applied it on his forehead. Will didn't react, which was OK since Carrie didn't expect a reaction anyway. She repeated the process a few times, and saw that his arms, and even his shirt, were covered in sweat. Seeing that he was only wearing boxers, she started to feel a little bit weird and took the decision on not doing anything under the belt. She proceeded to pat his arms with the damp towel, reaching to his other side for his right arm. After being done with his arms, she was arguing with herself whether or not to do anything about his shirt. It was quite loose, so she could probably lift it halfway up without him noticing, although she didn't want to try anything too risky. She didn't want Will waking up to her drying his chest or anything of the sort. That might give mixed signals. Finally, she decided to do it. If he stayed like that, he could fall seriously ill. With both her hands, she lifted up the shirt little by little, stopped at his stomach to catch her breath, and then lifted it up to his chest. "Phew" she thought; glad to see Will hadn't noticed.

Will wasn't that toned, but Carrie could make out the muscles on his chest. She pats his chest with the warm water, and heard a sigh of pleasure from Will. That must have been where it was the most uncomfortable. His agitation slowed down as she applied the heat onto his neck, chest, and lower abdomen, just above his crotch. Tiredness was starting to grow on her again. She went over his chest and forehead one last time before placing the bucket and towel aside. Her head felt heavy. She crossed her arms on the edge of the bed, and placed her head in the nest. "If Will starts moving again, I'll have to cool him…down…again…" she thought sleepily, feeling dreams drift into her imagination.

Will opened his eyes slowly, and realised it was still night. He rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand. He wasn't sweating, which was unusual. His shirt was also lifted up. Turning on his left side, he saw a bucket and towel on the bedside table, before squinting and seeing Carrie's head lying between her arms on the edge of the mattress. Sleeping, her breathing was slower than usual, her eyes closed; she looked peaceful. Looking back at the bucket and then at Carrie, he realised she was the one who had cooled him down. A wave of sympathy came down on him.

"Carrie?" he whispered in the moonlight. No reply. He stroked her arm. "Carrie?" he repeated.

"Mmmph" was the only thing she said in return. After repeating the question "Carrie?" at least three times, she finally opened one of her eyes.

Too tired to be surprised, she blinked a few time before mumbling a sleep-deprived "Hi, Will." Realising she shouldn't be there; she got up difficultly with a yawn, and stretched. Will didn't know what else to say except "Thanks", to which Carrie said "No problem."

Just before Carrie was about to leave, he tapped the place beside him, on the bed. He didn't know why he just did that; he felt like he had to do something more than just say thank you. Carrie's eyes widened slightly, and she walked over to the other side of the bed before sitting down on it, and after exchanging a look with Will, lay down completely. Will lay back down too. They didn't need any words to be exchanged.

They fell asleep, Carrie facing Will's back. During the night, he could sometimes feel Carrie press her forehead against the bottom of his neck.

I was really struggling to write this chapter.

Tell me what you thought of it; what you liked, didn't like, or any suggestions.

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