*After requests from you, I decided to keep this story going. Thank you for your reviews and everyone who favourited or followed!*

"Welcome home."

Conrad's growl echoes in the empty hallway. His shape, painfully familiar, merely a reflection on the dark wall beside him.

Nic is standing in his doorway, her trench coat soaked in the pouring rain. At first she looks away, but then her gaze locks with his own, helpless to break the connection. Nevertheless, no words come out.

"Come here, it's pouring rain." he opens the door all the way, and the warmth of Conrad's apartment reaches through Nic's skin and pulls her in like a magnet.

She paces in, leaving her bag on the kitchen counter, unsure of where to go.

"I got green tea, forest fruits... that kind." he nods.

Nic's heart flatters as her mind wonders through the endless nights watching football games together, drinking the tea with cinamon and honey that he served her. Her eyes water as, through her mind like movie scenes, come the images of them snuggling underneath the blankets, and her, afterwards, being unable to sleep. She could still hear his heartbeat fast in her ears.

The sound of the door closing and Conrad speaking shocks her out of her trance. "Want one?" he asks, offering his hand towards the kitchen counter.

"Sure" she says, looking down, fixing a strand of hair behind her ear.

She is barely able to acknowledge her surroundings, walking in the middle of the night, as she takes a sit in the corner of the living room couch, resting her head on her hand. She closes her eyes for merely a second, letting go of every thought.

"Here you go" Conrad rests a cup of tea on the coffee table in front of her, and holds his own. He takes a sit beside Nic, while letting out a deep breath.

With cinnamon and honey, like he always does. A smile tries to form on the corner of her mouth, but she quickly retains it.

"Thank you for coming by." Conrad says, his voice filled with sincerity.

"You're the one who called me" Nic replies with a smirk. Her blue eyes are glowing, vividly tired from work and her illness, and dark circles are starting to form underneath her concealer.

"Just wanted to check in on you." he says, almost in a whisper. Watching her get the first sip from her drink, he smiles. "Good?"

This time, a smile escapes her lips. "Yes..." she sais, her throat cracking from dehydration.

Conrad's expression quickly changes to serious, and then concerned. She almost senses the change of tone in the air.

"How are you?"

A simple, yet such difficult question that Nic feels so strange to be asked. Ever since she was a child, her Dad being an alcoholic and her Mom out of the picture, she was always the one asking this question towards her sister, but never in the receiving end.

"I'm just tired. Not just from this stupid virus... Everything that's happened in the past year, I feel like it has worn me out, Conrad. I'm tired from fighting for everybody, I'm tired of us fighing..."

Conrad interrupts her as tears start to form in her eyes.

"Nic, I know the stuff you went through with your sister was not easy, but you've got to see it the other way around. You have to keep going, for her. " Conrad lowers his head to meet her gaze, and his chest rumbles, as he speaks slower. "The stuff I've seen you go through, it takes a strong person to come out intact. You are one of the strongest people I know. It's only natural to get worn out sometimes."

Nic fidgets with the ring that Conrad gave her, that belonged to his Mom. After a few moments of silence she announces:

"I took some time off, to recover."

"Good choice." Conrad agrees. "Let's see" he adds, getting up. He approaches her after retrieving the medical kit he always keeps in the kitchen cabinet. As of now, Nic has almost lied down, half her body resting on the couche's arm. Conrad scoots up closer to her and reaches out for the thermometer, carefully sliding it under Nic's arm. Then he presses gently down on her arm. They wait out in silence for the thermometer to beep. 38.2 °C.

"Have you taken any antifever?"

"No. Wanted to monitor it's cycle."

Conrad smiles. Nic's knowledge always catches him by surprise. He's always the one to brake all the rules but not when it comes to the safety of his patients.

"How many peaks so far?"

"This is the fourth one."

"Apyretic in between?"

"Yeah." she responds.

"I think it's time you took a tylenol" Conrad softly recommends. "If the episodes don't subside you might have to take antibiotics"

Nic lets out an uncomfortable sigh, as she adjusts her position, shifting on her side, feeling sore all over.

"Let's take a listen" he urges, taking his stethoscope out from the bag, and placing the ends in his ears.

The movements happen in sync, as if one was expecting the move of another, almost like a choreography.

He slightly pulls the end of Nic's T-shirt up, and slides the bud under it.

"Deep breaths"

Nic's breaths come out more shallow this time, more tired than before. Conrad doesn't burden her further.

"Any shortness of breath?" he asks her.

"No." she responds.

"Okay. Let's get you into some more comfortable clothes." he barely manages to say before he paces heavily towards his bedroom.

It takes Nic a minute to understand the meaning of his words. "No. I can't stay." she starts whining.

"You can if you want to. I want you to." he says back. He presents her a fresh pair of white pyjamas.

"Thank you." she says back, sincerely.

Nic doesn't remember changing into the pyjamas. The only thing she can acknowledge is the sense of the warm, knit blanket covering her, and the smell of forest fruits and cinnamon in the air.