Shionne paced back and forth across her living room. She paused, listening for a sound for upstairs, before resuming her circuit around the couch and the coffee table. A few moments later she stopped again, certain that she had heard something from the bedroom. No, wait. That was just a dog barking outside. False alarm.
This was absurd. She had to focus or she'd just run herself ragged. She sat down, picked up a book off the table, and attempted to read it. She looked at the first letter on on the first page one the first page for a minute, nodded approvingly, and put the book back down.
She ran a finger across one of the shelves, seeing if it had acquired any dust in the fifteen minutes since she had last dusted it. It hadn't. She was about to give it a preventative "just in case" dusting when somebody knocked at the door and she bolted towards it at a dead sprint.
Kisara and Dohalim stepped back with surprise as Shionne swung open the door. Kisara had about enough time to say "Hi, we got your message-" before Shionne grabbed them both and yanked them inside.
"He's been like this since yesterday and I just don't know what to do," Shionne said. She was sitting on the couch, and had remained there for a record five minutes after Kisara had forcefully pinned her down and given her a mug of tea. "He's got a fever, he's sore and fatigued, he threw up yesterday. None of my healing artes seem to do anything, and Alphen swears by his friend Doc as far as non-arte medicine goes but he's all the way over in Calaglia, and I know Dohalim at least knows more about that sort of thing than me or at least he probably knows somebody who-"
"Shionne," Kisara called over from the kitchen. "Take ten deep breaths. That's an order."
Shionne complied, and felt her heart rate slowing back down as she listened to Kisara move around in the kitchen.
She heard the refrigerator open, and Kisara pause. Right on deep breath number ten, Shionne heard, "So you make food when you're anxious, huh?"
"I don't know," Shionne said, still breathing deep.
"Two pots of stew, three loaves of bread, an extra large pot of porridge, roast chicken and potatoes, a fruit salad, some meat skewers still marinating-"
"Okay maybe I made a bit more than usual," Shionne said. She looked back into the kitchen, where Kisara had closed the fridge and was slicing one of the loaves of bread. She looked back, and gave her a gentle smile.
"You don't have anything to worry about," Kisara said. She walked over, pulled Shionne off the couch, and gave her a gentle hug. "We're happy to help you.. Even if Dohalim can't figure out what's wrong, he can get hold somebody who does within the day. There are perks to being heroes. You should be thankful for them."
Shionne let herself relax in Kisara's grip. There was no escaping it, after all. But even so, she could still feel her mind racing. What if-?
"Shionne," came a voice from the stairwell.
Kisara released her, and Shionne could feel her feet skitter as she attempted a casual stride to the bottom of the stairs. She met Dohalim as he descended, pulling off a pair of rubber gloves and a bird mask he was wearing for unknown reasons.
"Shionne," he said. "We should sit down."
Shionne felt herself pull a ragged breath. "Okay."
They sat in the living room, Shionne back to her vigil on the couch and Dohalim in an armchair opposite. Kisara stood beside him, trying to pull a brave face but biting her knuckle whenever she thought nobody was looking.
Dohalim leaned forward and put his hands together.
"Shionne," he said. "Your husband has the flu."
A silent moment passed as they stared at each other. Somewhere, off in the distance, a cow mooed.
"The flu."
"Yes. It's a common viral infection that the body can fight off on its own. Alphen will be fine in a day or two with proper bed rest."
Shionne took another moment to gather her thoughts again. She opened her mouth to speak, but was beaten by the thwack of Kisara slapping Dohalim across the back of the head.
"Why did you have to go and be all dramatic about that?" Kisara snapped. "The woman's nervous out of her mind, don't go telling her to sit down when her husband just has the flu!"
"I merely wanted to discuss the matter in a calm and comfortable environment." Thwack.
"Shionne, I'm sorry," Kisara said, rubbing the palm of her hand. "He obviously meant well, but..."
Kisara trailed off. Shionne was shaking quietly. Before she could step over to reassure her, the sound broke from her lips.
"Ah. Ahahah. Hahahahahaha..."
And before the conversation could progress any further than that, Shionne rose from her seat, gave Dohalim and Kisara brief hugs, and ran up the staircase to the bedroom, still crying with laughter.
Shionne sat on the side of the bed, watching Alphen sleep. His skin was pale and he was shifting fitfully, but it was still reassuring just to look at him and know that everything was going to be all right. She smiled, as the aftershocks of realizing what an idiot she had been reverberated through her once again.
Alphen's hand lay outstretched on top of the covers. She traced her own fingers over it idly, and Alphen's eyes fluttered open. He looked up, and smiled at her weakly.
"Hey, Alphen," Shionne said gently. "How are you doing?"
"Better now that you're here," he mumbled. Shionne giggled. It was a corny line, and all the sweeter because he obviously meant it.
Alphen shifted under the covers, taking care not to dislodge Shionne's hand. "I had a dream that Dohalim was poking me and asking me questions," he said.
"That wasn't a dream, that was real," Shionne said. "I asked him to stop by and take a look at you."
"Oh." Alphen looked up at the ceiling with a contemplative expression. "Was the bird mask also real?"
Shionne didn't know how to address the mask, and didn't know if she wanted any answers from Dohalim. "Dohalim says you just have the flu. And I believe him, because he knows some of the weird medicinal healing artes. You're going to be fine."
"Oh." Alphen stared at the ceiling for another moment as Shionne watched thoughts slowly drip through his clogged head. "The flu. You mean like I said it probably was?" He paused and furrowed his brow. "I did say that, right?"
Shionne giggled to herself again. "Yes. You did say that, and you were right. But I wanted to be sure." She gripped his hand tightly, to reassure herself that it was still there.
"Have you been running around worrying yourself?" Alphen said. He smiled, and adjusted his hand in her grip.
Shionne bit back a denial. There was no pride in pretending here. "Yes. Of course I have."
"You didn't need to."
"Of course I need to. I love you, and I'm going to worry about you whether it makes me look silly or not."
To her surprise, Shionne felt herself being pulled backwards onto the bed next to Alphen. Sick as he was, he was still much bigger than her. She found herself lying on her side, being gripped in a blazing-warm embrace.
"I'm right here," he said. "I'm still right here, and nothing's going to change that. You can worry all you want just so long as you keep that in mind."
Hot though Alphen's grip was, Shionne couldn't even think of trying to escape. She just lay still, listening to Alphen's breathing get slower and quieter as he drifted off back to sleep.
As far as relaxing went, it beat the hell out of taking deep breaths.
Shionne's brain was wrapped in cotton, and her limbs were weighed down with freezing lead. The two kept each other in balance most of the time, except for when somebody stacked the lead too far on one side and sent the room spinning through cartwheels. She wished it would stop that. Alphen would have to take a look at that when they were feeling better.
She turned her head to the side, and saw Alphen's face looking back at her. Alphen's wonderful, handsome face with its long white hair.
I married that face. I can touch that face whenever I want.
She reached out and touched her face. Alphen's face. He stirred, and looked at her.
"Sorry. I guess this is my fault," he said weakly.
"You already said that," Shionne said, just as weak. "Or was that a dream?"
"I don't know. I thought I might have dreamed telling you."
The bedroom door opened, and Kisara walked in wearing the bird mask and carrying a tray. She set it down one the dresser and took off two plates.
"I'm going to insist that the two of you eat lunch," she said, putting a plate on either side table. "Please at least try. We have some porridge and some of Shionne's anxiety bread, lightly toasted."
"I like porridge," Alphen said. "Shionne, do you remember that porridge was the first thing we ate together?"
Shionne felt her brain lurch in surprise as it realized it had to come up with a thought. Disconnected memories were haphazardly thrown back in response. A campfire. This house. The taste of wheat glop. Hugging Alphen. Fire was warm. Alphen was warm.
"Yes," she said. "Then we made it again and talked about wanting a house."
"Yeah," Alphen said. "We should get a house."
"I think we did."
Alphen pulled himself upright and looked around. He studied their surroundings. "Sweet Dahna, you're right."
Kisara picked the tray back up. "I'll be back to pick up the plates later. It won't do you guys a lot of good if I hang around and also get sick."
"Bye, Kisara," Alphen said. "Is Dohalim still here or did he go back to Viscint?"
"' I can return to Viscint when Viscint needs me more than my friends'," said Kisara, in a booming and startlingly accurate imitation of Dohalim's voice. "Besides, he's just happy that you gave him permission to raid the icebox. Bye now."
Shionne waved feebly. "Goodbye, Kisara. The mask looks great. Goodbye."
"Get well, you two," Kisara said as she closed the door.
She lay still for a few moments, as her brain hesitated to commit on the idea of eating. Eventually, she pulled herself upright with a groan to at least see what anxiety bread tasted like. As it turned out, bread.
Alphen put down a bowl of half eaten porridge, and laid back down in bed. "This isn't too bad," he said eventually.
"Good for you. I'm not doing great," Shionne said, flopping back against her pillow.
"Well I mean I feel awful. But I'm awful with you." Alphen tried to take a bite of toast, succeeding on the second attempt.
Shionne's brain, without needing any prompt, brought back memories from the other day. Waiting for Dohalim. Worrying. Pacing. Somebody should take those skewers out of the marinade pretty soon. "Yeah, you're right. This is better."
"Still not great." Alphen reached over and grabbed her hand.
Shionne squeezed back. "But it's something to keep in mind."
Kisara walked down the staircase, pulling the gloves and mask off and readjusting her hair. She walked into the kitchen, where Dohalim was staring into the refrigerator with an exploratory eye.
"How are the patients doing?" he said, not looking up.
"Oh, they're fine. Semi-delirious but fine," Kisara said. "It would probably be better if they went to separate beds, though."
"I advise you not to try separating them."
"I'm not going to make the struggle," Kisara said. "Is it really good for them to be crowded together like that, though?"
"For all we know, yes" Dohalim said. "I'm reminded of one of the great Renan philosophers, who posited that dreams are a sensory way of interpreting a great primordial force that flows between our unconscious minds. The way they are now, lying together, hearts as one, drifting in and out of sleep so that dream and reality seem one and the same, they might very well walk out of the experience even more closely bound than they were before."
Kisara stared off into space. "I never thought about it like that. That's beautiful."
"Indeed. Would you like to have these meat skewers for dinner tonight?"