Late that night, Gilbert awoke to the sounds of his own coughs. He was freezing again, and buried deeper into the covers as coughs shook his body. He coughed until his head started to ache. Something told him he should probably get up and take some medicine, but he felt too tired and sore to move. Letting his gaze slide to the clock on the nightstand, he saw that it was 2:17 a.m. He groaned, rolled over, and pulled the covers over his head in an attempt to keep the warmth in. But sleep did not come easily. Coughs disturbed Gilbert again and again. Vaguely, he wondered if he might wake Roderich. But then he huffed and remembered that the Austrian was probably still angry with him.

When Gilbert's coughs subsided, he finally drifted back off to sleep. But the stillness of slumber did not last long. In a few more hours, he woke abruptly, drenched in sweat and feeling as though he was burning up. The t-shirt and boxers he slept in stuck to his body. He pushed the covers away from his body, sat up halfway, and sniffled a little. As he started to cough again, Gilbert decided it was time to get some medication. Opening the door as quietly as possible, he made his way down the hallway and down the stairs. He walked on his tiptoes out of habit. Once he and Roderich had started to live together, it hadn't taken Gilbert long to figure out that the Austrian didn't like to be woken up in the middle of the night, especially if his philharmonic orchestra was rehearsing the next morning.

After taking a Benadryl and a cough suppressant, Gilbert crawled back into bed, suddenly feeling cold again as the sweat that soaked him cooled and evaporated. It was another half an hour before the sleep medication kicked in and at last made his eyelids feel so heavy that he could stay awake no longer.

Gilbert slept until almost eleven in the morning. When he woke, his head felt fuzzy and his body weak and exhausted, as though he had not slept at all. He ran a hand through his hair as he trudged into the kitchen. Roderich, who sat at the table reading the newspaper, lifted his eyes to study Gilbert. "Feeling all right, Gilbert?" he asked.

"No, I feel like shit," Gilbert said with a little cough.

"I figured as much. You were up coughing half the night."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I hope I didn't wake you up," Gilbert said quietly.

Roderich shrugged, looking just as disinterested as ever. "No, that's all right," he said flatly. "I had some trouble sleeping myself." Gilbert sniffled a few times and covered his mouth as he started to cough. The Austrian lifted his eyes from his reading to peer at Gilbert, concern filling their amethyst depths. "You should take something for that," he commented. "And perhaps go back to bed and rest a bit. You really do look awful."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the complement, honey," he said in a mocking tone of voice. Roderich shot him a withering glance and sighed deeply. But he knew the Austrian was right. When he'd caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror this morning, he looked paler than usual, red irises rimmed in red veins, dark circles looming beneath them. He almost looked worse than he had on the most recent morning after he'd slept with Ivan. Shaking those thoughts from his mind, he walked through the kitchen and spread some jam on a thick slice of bread for breakfast. He stared at it for a moment. Though he didn't really want to eat, he felt as though he should. He took a few tentative bites. The food tasted bland and hit his stomach like a brick. After eating only a third of the slice, he pushed it away and trudged to the medicine cabinet in search of some more cough suppressants.

Once he'd swallowed a few more pills, Gilbert turned to make his way back upstairs. Roderich's voice made him halt in his tracks. "You probably made yourself sick that night you walked home in the rain," he said.

"Probably," Gilbert replied with a careless shrug. He placed a hand on the railing and started to climb the first stair.

"Oh, Gilbert…" Roderich added, his voice softer than before, "if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Smiling weakly back at Roderich, Gilbert dragged himself back up the stairs and climbed into bed again. But this time, he was unable to relax. He tossed and turned. His body switched frequently between almost unbearable heat and bone-chilling coldness. For some reason, he ached all over. Gilbert shut his eyes and tried to find sleep again, but it wouldn't come. Groaning, he pulled the covers all the way over his head to shut out the light and lay beneath them, shivering and sniffling. He wondered why he had been sick so many times this year. He had caught a cold when he'd visited Vienna with Roderich and had nearly ruined their Christmas. Then, just a week after the accident, he'd gotten sick again. Now, he was battling chills and coughs for a third time. This really was the worst year of his entire life. He hoped that this time, he would recover quickly.

The next morning, Gilbert felt worse.

After his coughs woke him several times in the night, he slept for what felt like forever. He opened his eyes only to the sound of a soft Austrian accent murmuring, "Gilbert. Gilbert, are you awake?" Gilbert could only groan hoarsely in response. "Mein Gott, you look awful. I'll be right back, okay?" Roderich said. Without really looking at the man standing over him, Gilbert nodded, shut his eyes again, and hugged a pillow to his chest as the sounds of muffled footsteps on carpet drifted away.

Roderich returned in a few moments and placed a cool cloth on Gilbert's forehead. The albino shuddered at first when it touched his hot forehead, but then he sighed softly. "Does that feel better, Gil?" Roderich asked.

"Mmhmm," Gilbert mumbled.

"Here, I brought you some more medicine and some orange juice. I want you to take this," Roderich instructed gently. Gilbert nodded, propped himself up against the pillows, took the pills and the glass from Roderich, and swallowed them. It seemed as though the pills were doing little to help his persistent cough, though. After drinking all the orange juice, he flopped back down onto the mattress again and gave a weary sigh. Roderich pulled the covers back up over him, adjusted the cloth on his forehead, and pushed his sweaty silver hair away from his face.

"I'm going to go and practice the piano for a little while," the Austrian said. "I'll be back in a little while to make sure you're all right." For the first time since the previous morning, Gilbert truly focused on Roderich's face. His slender eyebrows were knitted slightly in concern, his purple eyes wide, the corners of his mouth curving ever so slightly upward. If the albino wasn't so tired, he might have thought about handsome Roderich looked, or about how sweet he was being at the moment. But all Gilbert could think of was how much his head ached, how sore and heavy and cold his body felt, how scratchy and painful his throat was. "I hope you feel better soon, Gilbert," Roderich added in a low voice.

"Thanks," Gilbert croaked as Roderich pushed the door open gently and slipped into the hallway.

That night, Gilbert hardly slept at all. At around five in the morning, still unable to sleep, he tossed and turned, coughing so uncontrollably that his chest ached and burned. His coughs were deep and dry. He did not even hear Roderich open the door to the guest bedroom in which Gilbert still slept. "Gilbert," the Austrian mumbled sleepily as he poked his head in through the door and rubbed his eyes. Blinking steadily, he strained to see in the dark without his glasses.

"I-I can't sleep, Roderich," Gilbert managed to say between coughs.

Roderich circled around the bed and sat next to Gilbert. "I know, Gil," he said, "I know."

"I didn't wake you did I?"

The Austrian chuckled humorlessly. "This time, you did," he admitted. "But it's all right." He ran a soothing pair of hands up and down Gilbert's back until his coughing slowed and finally subsided, at least for the moment.

The albino sniffled, cleared his throat, and glanced over his shoulder to peer at Roderich through the blackness of the last vestiges of night before dawn. Roderich still had not stopped rubbing his back. "Why are you being so nice to me?" Gilbert asked hoarsely.

"Well, even if I still do not remember you, I do know we are married," Roderich replied coolly. "I've made a promise. And I believe it goes something like, 'in sickness and in health,' doesn't it?" Gilbert nodded weakly. "I still hope I might remember someday soon."

"I hope so, too," Gilbert said.

After a long moment of silence, Roderich cleared his throat. Even in the darkness, Gilbert thought he saw the Austrian's gaze focus almost ruefully on the floor. "Besides, I feel a bit guilty for the way I treated you the other night…" he mumbled as he played absently with the edge of the bed sheet. The first bits of soft pink and golden light streamed into the room from behind the closed blinds.

"No, Roderich, I'm the one who should feel guilty," Gilbert said. "I know it's difficult. I know you would remember if you could. I was just being a jerk. Just like I always am." He sighed and then swallowed hard in an attempt to soothe his burning throat. Now that Gilbert was sick and exhausted, it was easy to see how unfair he'd been to Roderich three days ago, when he'd been frustrated and caught in the heat of the moment. If he kept treating everyone this way, they would all soon abandon him and he would be all alone again…

"Maybe so," Roderich said, interrupting Gilbert's thoughts. "But let's not think about that right now. You're tired. You just need some rest, all right?" All Gilbert could do was nod. Roderich gave him a quick pat on the back before he vanished again into the fading blackness. Once Roderich had left, Gilbert shut his eyes once again and at last began to drift off to sleep.

Gilbert managed to sleep for only a few hours. When he woke around eight in the morning, he could not find sleep again. He thought about getting up and taking some more medicine, but instead lay on his side and listened to the eerie stillness of the house. Roderich was probably still soundly asleep in the other room. Distantly, Gilbert could hear the hum of the air conditioner downstairs. Occasionally, a whooshing sound and the growl of an engine stirred the silence when a car went by outside. Gilbert found himself thinking about how peaceful cars sounded when they passed outside late in the night or early in the morning. They disturbed the silence and the peace for only a moment. They didn't crash into each other. There were no sounds of tires skidding, of glass shattering, of horns honking, of drivers and passengers yelling and screaming. Just a whoosh and the brief hum of an engine, and then silence again.

In another few hours, Roderich woke and came to check on Gilbert again. "Are you feeling any better?" he asked. Gilbert simply shook his head against the pillow. Roderich bent and pressed his lips briefly to the albino's forehead. "Gilbert, you're burning up," he said once he'd pulled away.

"But I feel cold," Gilbert said. As if to confirm his words, his body trembled slightly.

"Well, then I'll go and get you another blanket, all right?" Roderich said. He started to make his way back toward the door, but halted halfway there, and cast a glance over his shoulder at Gilbert. "Ah, where are the blankets?"

Gilbert laughed sadly, a laugh that cracked and dissolved into coughs. Roderich had just reminded him that he still did not remember everything. "The little closet next to the bathroom," he replied, and watched the Austrian retreat into the hallway.

Roderich returned carrying a blanket, which he draped carefully over Gilbert. For a moment, he hovered over the silver-haired man without speaking another word. Then, at last, he said, "I was going to make myself some tea. Would you like some? It might make your throat feel better."

"That would be nice," Gilbert said. Roderich was going to turn him into a tea-drinker one of these days.

After Roderich brought Gilbert some tea, the Austrian ambled in and out of the other man's room all day, checking on him, bringing him food, water, tea, and medicine. Each time Roderich vanished again, Gilbert would close his eyes and try to sleep. But when he heard piano or violin melodies from downstairs, he couldn't help but lay still and listen to Roderich practice. He regained a little shard of his skill each day. By now, he played almost as well as he had just before the accident, when he was at the peak of his ability from having spent weeks preparing to perform his big piano concerto.

The next morning when Gilbert woke after a long, restful night, he felt much better. His coughs had softened and become less frequent. He felt a little less sore. When he opened his eyes to bright light that flooded the bedroom, he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and wondered what day of the week it was. At some point during the four days he'd spent in bed, he'd managed to lose track of time. The day he'd cooked dinner for Roderich had been a Sunday. Mentally, he counted each day since then. Today was Friday.

Late that morning, Roderich came in to check on Gilbert, just as he always did. This time when he bent to press his lips to the albino's forehead, a smile crossed his face as he pulled away. "That's much better," he said pleasantly. "I think your fever is breaking."

"Well, I feel a lot better," Gilbert replied.

"That's good to hear. You should probably stay in bed today, though, just to make sure you're all right," Roderich commented before he turned to leave once again. But just as he had pushed the door open, he froze to a dead halt, glanced over his shoulder at Gilbert, turned his head to stare out the door again, and looked back at Gilbert one more time. "Wait," he said in a voice that was faint and a little shaky.

"What?"

"I took care of you like this over our Christmas vacation in Vienna," Roderich said haltingly, hesitating a little after each word he spoke. "You…you were so…upset. You thought you'd ruin our Christmas. But you didn't. We had a lovely Christmas."

"What?" Gilbert repeated, disbelief hanging in his weak voice. Instantly, he felt his pulse leap in his chest and then speed ahead like a car that was racing down a hill.

Roderich turned on his heel and came to sit down on the bed next to Gilbert. He rested his head in his hand and turned questioning purple eyes toward Gilbert. "The strangest thing just happened to me," he said quietly. "All of a sudden, I just started remembering things. First, I remembered Christmas with you in Vienna. Then, I remembered when we got married, and we went to the French Riviera, and how wonderful that was. And then I remembered…well, it feels like everything."

"Roderich…" Gilbert whispered as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Roderich, are you…serious…"

Instead of replying, Roderich took Gilbert's hand in his, wound his free arm around the albino's neck, leaned in close, and kissed him softly. When he pulled away slowly, he rested his forehead against Gilbert's and whispered, "I remember, Gilbert. And I love you."

"I…I love you too, Roderich…so much…" Gilbert said shakily, and caressed Roderich's cheek with the back of his hand before he tilted his head and leaned in for another kiss. When his lips had nearly met Roderich's, he hesitated and gazed longingly into those gorgeous amethyst eyes. "Wait," he breathed. "We probably shouldn't kiss just yet. I'm still sick, you know. I don't want to get you sick too."

"Gilbert, seriously." Roderich huffed audibly and rolled his eyes. "I don't fucking care right now. If I get sick, too, so be it. We can be sick together." Gilbert felt the corners of his mouth curve upward into a smile, one that was more powerful and unstoppable and genuine than every single one of his smiles since the day of the accident. For the most part, they had been forced, worn like a costume to make those around him believe he was all right, when in reality, he had been falling apart on the inside. But this one felt easy and natural. As if pulled by some magnetic force, Gilbert finally let his lips meet Roderich's again.

When the two men kissed for the second time, with parted lips, opened mouths, and tongues that wandered and touched and tasted, the reality of the moment finally dawned on Gilbert. After more than three months of heartbreak, of daily visits to the hospital, of pleading and praying, and finally, of tension and arguments and hurt feelings, he finally had his Roderich back. Not the Roderich who had been wandering around his home for the past three weeks, but the Roderich he'd fallen in love with, the Roderich he'd married. He had begun to fear this moment would never come. But now, locked in a deep kiss with the only man he'd ever truly loved, those three and a half months of horror had come to a sudden end. And it was shocking, crazy, and even a little scary. But it was also happy, wonderful, beautiful, and perfect.

After a few moments, the need for oxygen became inescapable, and the two were forced to break the kiss. Breathless and wide-eyed with wonder, Gilbert stared at Roderich, briefly stunned into silence. But then he flung his arms around the Austrian and cried, "Roderich! Mein Gott, Roderich! Oh, I missed you so much! You don't even understand. I-I-you're back, you're back, you're back…" Words poured from his lips as though his brain had ceased to have control over his mouth. He pressed his face into Roderich's chest and inhaled shakily as the other man's arms wrapped around him. They stayed like that without moving for only a moment or two before Gilbert put one arm around Roderich's waist, slid the other under both his legs, and lifted him up off the bed. Holding the Austrian above him, he craned his neck and leaned up for another kiss before spinning them both around a few times. Roderich laughed, a sound that was such sweet music to Gilbert's ears, and threaded his fingers gently through the albino's silvery hair.

Gilbert started to get dizzy and felt that he couldn't hold onto Roderich for much longer. He backed up until they were next to the bed, and they both collapsed onto the mattress next to each other. Gilbert gazed into purple eyes with his crimson ones for a brief moment of silence before they both laughed and shared another quick kiss. The albino shifted in closer to Roderich and buried his face into the crook of the other man's neck. "Roddy, don't get up. Don't go anywhere. Just stay here. Please," Gilbert whispered as his hand searched for Roderich's.

"Of course," Roderich said. He took Gilbert's hand and ran his thumb across the back of it. The two stayed just like that for a long time. They did not move. They did not speak. They lay where they had settled, smiling softly at each other. Every once in a while, one of the two would sigh in relief and happiness, barely stirring the stillness of the home for only an ephemeral moment.

After what could have been hours, Gilbert followed Roderich downstairs into the room containing the grand piano. He settled into the chair the Austrian had set up for him shortly after they'd moved in together, when Gilbert discovered he loved to sit and listen to Roderich play. For some reason, the music that lilted from that piano sounded so much sweeter today. He traced every movement of the brunette's fingers as they danced across the keys, watching, mesmerized, reminding himself with every note that this insanely talented man was his and no one else's. For a while, Gilbert had forgotten. For a while, it seemed as though he'd lost Roderich, even when they'd been sitting in the same room.

Roderich and Gilbert spent the afternoon in each other's arms idly watching television, as though the intensity of emotions that had rushed through them that morning had made them too weary to do much else. Occasionally, they shared a kiss. Occasionally, one of the two would shift in just a little bit closer. When the light began to soften outside, Gilbert's stomach growled. In all the excitement of the day, neither of the two men had eaten lunch. "Roddy, I'm hungry," Gilbert announced absently. "Why don't we go out for dinner?"

"No," Roderich said firmly. "Let's stay here."

"But I'm feeling a lot better now," Gilbert said. "It's fine, really. I…"

"I want to cook for you," the Austrian said softly. "You've done so much for me over the past three months. Now I'd like to do something for you."

Gilbert rested his head on Roderich's shoulder. "Yeah, but you already took care of me when I was sick," he murmured. "And you didn't even remember me then."

"But four days does not make up for the three months you spent worrying over me," Roderich replied. "I must have just put you through hell."

Gilbert shrugged and gave a sad little laugh. "Yeah, kind of."

After lifting Gilbert's head gently from his shoulder, Roderich stood and pushed away the blanket they'd been wrapped up in. "Then the least I can do is make you dinner. Hey, I'll make your favorite."

"Spaetzle with cheese and bacon?" Gilbert said without a moment of thought.

"I know what you like, Gil."

Gilbert stood and followed Roderich into the kitchen. He didn't want to spend even a moment separated from his husband, at least not right now. "Of course you do," he said, shaking his head incredulously as he trailed after the Austrian, wearing a big, stupid grin. He rested his elbows against the counter and watched Roderich move about the kitchen. His purple eyes carefully scanned the cabinets and the refrigerator for ingredients, which he lined up on the counter next to him. Gilbert's eyes traced the other man's every movement as if he was afraid that Roderich could vanish into thin air at any moment and be lost forever.

After cooking for around thirty minutes, Roderich lined a pan with strips of bacon and watched them as they started to sizzle. Gilbert wrapped his arms around the Austrian's waist from behind and rested his face against the other man's upper back. "I'm so glad you're back," he said. "I know I said it already but…I just…am."

"I'm glad to be back," Roderich replied with a little chuckle. Gilbert hummed happily and held Roderich a little more tightly than before. The Austrian glanced over his shoulder and arched a single eyebrow at the man who clung to him. "Idiot, I can't cook your favorite dish if you don't let me move," he said in a very serious tone of voice, without the slightest ghost of a smile. Gilbert stared back at him with a gaze that was just as unrelenting, knowing that Roderich was just joking. After a moment, in which they stared each other down like enemies who were about to face off, Gilbert blinked and giggled. Roderich laughed, too, before giving the other man a gentle shove. "No, really, let me cook," he said playfully. The albino stepped back reluctantly to let Roderich finish preparing their dinner.

When the meal was finished, they settled down at the dinner table and, for the first time that day, lost themselves in conversation. They had needed no words. Just sharing each other's presence had been enough. Roderich asked Gilbert what had happened when he was gone, and Gilbert had to pause and think for a moment. Not much of importance had occurred in the Austrian's absence. Though life had continued on around him, it was as though Gilbert's world had stopped turning when his husband had vanished from his life. Now, all of a sudden, his world was turning again – no, not just turning. It was spinning, twirling, dancing, doing crazy and joyous flips. Still reeling from the shock of all the return of Roderich's memory, Gilbert found that he could not eat as much of the rich-tasting meal as he normally would have. But neither could the man seated across from him.

The strangest thing, perhaps, about that day was that Gilbert finally got to climb into bed next to Roderich, cuddle up to him, and let their shared body heat keep them warm as the air conditioner chilled their home. Though he had grown used to sleeping alone for much of his life, he had never liked it. Nothing was sweeter or more reassuring than to close his eyes knowing that when he awoke the next morning, someone he cared about would be right next to him. As Gilbert pulled Roderich into his arms and let his eyelids slide shut, he was torn between wanting to lie peacefully in bed next to the man he loved, and wanting to bend him over and spend the night having some very rough sex.

After a long moment of thought, Gilbert kissed the back of Roderich's neck. "I love you, Roderich. Good night," he murmured.

"I love you too, Gilbert," Roderich replied.

He'd save the sex for tomorrow.

As always, thanks for reading, and reviews are love :)

Oh, by the way…the meal Roderich made…I had that meal at a local Austrian restaurant so that's what I based it on. (Yes, Austrian, not German.)