Characters/Pairing: Tracy Turnblad/Link Larkin

Word Count: 643

--

It was probably the most undignified moment in his high school life. He, Link Larkin, was stuck in bed; with the flu. How did it all come to this? How was it that on such a gloriously important day, he was attached to his bed with something so incredibly appalling?

He blamed the rain.

It was that stupid little Baltimore shower that had, quite unexpectedly, ruined his walk a few days ago. No matter what anyone tried to say, he knew it was completely the sole responsibility of nature that he was now a huddled mess in his bed. As another sneeze escaped him, he contemplated calling Tracy again. Surely he'd be okay for their date. The fever wasn't too bad; and he wasn't really all that achy.

He felt a small scratchy feeling tickle his chest, which quickly evolved into monstrous coughs, causing his whole frame to tremble. No, he should leave their date cancelled. He'd feel too guilty if he got her sick; even if it was their six month anniversary.

He whined pathetically in the empty room, silently willing his limbs into motion so he could at least go downstairs and eat. He knew though, even if he managed to get up, he wouldn't make it very far. The medicine his father had given him left him feeling a bit weaker than he already did, and he was worried the fever would cause hallucinations.

There was a soft knock on the door, "Link?"

Oh; wonderful. He was already imagining things.

"Link, honey?" The voice sounded unsure, and for a moment, he allowed himself to remember his mom. He gave a soft groan as the pounding in his head grew stronger. The hallucination, warm fuzzy feelings and all, needed to go away. It wasn't helping him heal faster.

"Hon, I'm coming in," and with that, the door opened. He groaned at the loud squeak that reverberated throughout the room, wincing as it added to the fever-induced headache. His eyes were shut tightly, attempting to block out all light; even the dim hallway light that seeped in when the illusion opened the door.

"G'way," he mumbled, "gotta get better… see Trace…" His words were broken, but he was sure the figment of his imagination got the message. He heard a soft giggle before something was set down on his right table.

"Link," he heard his name whispered, "I'm right here." He felt a soothing hand brush through his sweaty bangs, sweeping them off his forehead.

"I'm afraid he's pretty much useless, Miss Turnblad," he heard his father's voice.

"It's okay," was it really Tracy who was speaking, he wondered. "This is a day we should be together." He heard his father 'hmm' softly before his footsteps walked out of the door, leaving him and his possibly-real mirage alone.

He tried to speak, but found he lacked the strength to do so. Instead, he bleary opened his eyes, looking at the fuzzy vision of what was quickly forming into his beautiful girl.

"…Trace?" he croaked, voice raged from the coughs.

"Hey handsome," she smiled, fingers combing through his disheveled locks, "hungry?"

"You shouldn't be here… you'll get sick." He knew that even though he managed to say that much, he was thrilled to see her. If only he didn't look so horrible.

"Oh, shush Mr. Larkin. Let me take care of you." She gave his sticky brow a tender kiss, and then helped him sit up in the bed. From his higher angle, he could see the soup resting on his table, and his stomach growled meekly.

"Soup?" It seems she gave him some strength, as he was able to speak without sounding like a frog.

"A Turnblad family special at that; happy anniversary, hun. Now, eat up." With that, she picked up the spoon, and proceeded to help him eat as much as he needed.

-

A week later, Link was feeling right as rain. Which, by the way, he decided to forgive after Tracy had stopped by. Though they hadn't been able to go out for their six month anniversary, Tracy had taken good care of him; even though he cringed every time he remembered she had seen him looking so feeble. Currently however, he sat next to her bed, watching her with a slightly bemused smile on his face.

"Don't you dare say a thing, Link Larkin," her voice reached him from beneath a mountain of covers.

"Wouldn't dream of it, darlin'." He got up, giving his girl a soft kiss on her blanket-covered head before leaving her to a combination sneeze-cough attack, and met Mrs. Turnblad in the kitchen. "Now," he cracked his knuckles and gave her a ready smile, "about that soup you were going to show me to make…"

--

A/N: More Trink-fluff... I can't help it! I love them so! But, this one's special… it comes with disease!