Chapter 11

"This is really good, Matt. Is yours okay? You've taken about three bites." Her hand quieted his.

He'd pushed his burger back and forth across the plate throughout the entire dinner. The "place" Karen had chosen was an upscale diner with a line around the block, even when they arrived at 8:15 on a Tuesday.

"No, it's fine."

"How about a milkshake? It says they come with homemade cotton candy. That could be interesting," Liz suggested. He'd lost weight over the past week, and she was also about three breaths away from force feeding him, just like everyone else.

"Maybe." Matt rubbed his temples.

"You're tired."

"I slept most of the day. How could I possibly be tired?" But he was. Dead tired.

"You look a little flushed." She reached across and touched his forehead. "You feel warm."

"I'm sure it's nothing. Just a lot of walking around today."

"Do you want to go?"

"No. I'm okay. You haven't even had your milkshake yet. Or the accompanying cotton candy."

"We'll get it to go. Dessert in bed. Plus Advil."

Matt considered that. "Okay. Yeah. Is it okay if we do that?"

"Yeah, Matt. Of course. Is anything hurting?"

He wasn't sure how to explain to her that over the course of the past hour, every muscle in his body had begun screaming in aching pain. His throat burned as though razor blades scraped down his esophagus every time he swallowed. His heart beat, now increased to about 120 pumps per minute, pounded against his temporal bones as his head threatened to explode. To put it succinctly, he felt like shit. But he really didn't want to get into all of that now. "My side still aches a little, but less than before, even with the crutches. But the leg actually feels pretty good."

"Okay." That wasn't exactly what she was going for. She adjusted her approach. "Can I check you out, just look things over, when we get home?"

"Yeah," Matt agreed. "I don't wanna be laid up any longer than I have to."

Liz's cool hand caressed his cheek. "You don't feel well."

"I really don't," he confessed. "I promise it just started, though."

"Let's get the check."

He reached for his wallet. "I'm paying."

"You don't have to do that," she admonished. "This was my idea."

"I know, but I want to." He placed his hand on top of hers on the table.

She squeezed his fingers. "Thank you."

The waiter came with the bill and in a few minutes they were ready to leave. "It's a good thing we brought the chair," Matt decided as they headed toward the door with Liz pushing. "I'm a little dizzy."

"We'll be there soon." She hailed a cab and helped him into the car and then out when they arrived at his building. By the time they'd ascended in the elevator, Matt's sweat came in bullets and he shook with chills.

"Shit. I'm so sorry," he groaned as they entered the apartment, his head bowed.

"For being sick? You're crazy. People get sick. I help them get better. It's a perfect arrangement for all parties involved. Let's get you in bed, and then I'll try to figure out what's going on."

"Thanks." Matt collapsed on the bed. "I really do feel like shit," he admitted.

"What hurts?"

"That's not as helpful of a question as you might think with me. Everything is sort of off."

"Well, what's the most off?"

He took a quick inventory. "Head throbbing. Throat on fire. Achy everywhere. Oh, and I feel like I might puke."

"Okay," she rubbed his arm as she slid off the bed. "Let me get my bag and I'll be right back." She arrived at his side a moment later, flashlight in hand. "Open your mouth."

"Aaahhh."

"Ugh! That looks awful, Matt."

"It's been sort of scratchy all day, but now it just hurts." Her fingers rested on his neck, feeling up and down his jawline for any appreciable cervical lymphadenopathy. "What are you doing? That tickles." He shrugged against her hand.

"Just checking for swollen lymph nodes."

"And?"

"There are several."

"And?"

"Open again and keep your tongue out."

He opened his mouth as she swabbed his tonsils with a little plastic brush. "GAH!" he gagged. "What was that?"

"Rapid strep test. And hold still. Flu swab is next."

"Where does that one go?" he inquired, not sure that he wanted to know.

"Up your nose."

"Is that really necessary?"

"To figure out if you need medicine or not, for which I realize we'll likely need to tie you down. Uh, yes." Liz obtained the second sample and turned to add the processing solution to both swabs. She handed Matt four Advil and with a glass of water while they waited.

"How long does this take?" he asked as he simultaneously scratched his nose and swallowed the liquid-filled caplets.

"About five minutes for the strep and 15 for the flu."

"Is it even flu season? And you just carry this stuff around in your bag?"

"We've still seen a little bit here and there. And yes. It's good to be prepared." She glanced at the bedside table. "And it appears we have a verdict. It's strep."

"Seriously?"

She smoothed his hair back and kissed his forehead. "Sorry, Hon."

"Well, at least it's not the plague or worse, but don't get too close. I'm sure it's contagious."

"I'm probably fine. I'm exposed pretty much daily," Liz pointed out.

"I have no idea how I could have been. I'm guessing they gave me some antibiotics during surgery, right?"

"Oh, God!" Liz gasped. "It must have been me. I carried it in on my skin or clothes or something. You've barely been out of the house in over a week!"

"Even if that's scientifically possible, it's not your fault," Matt reasoned with her.

"It's most likely my fault."

He shrugged. "Well, the bridge is crossed. So what do I need?"

"Antibiotics. Your choices are 10 days of penicillin tablets or a shot."

"I'll take the shot," Matt decided in less than a second.

"Okay. What pharmacy do you use? I'll call it in and head down there and pick it up."

"I might fall asleep before you get back."

"You'll know when I do, though. I'll be the one with the needle."

"Don't remind me," he groaned.

She kissed him again. "I won't be long."

On her way to the pharmacy, she called Foggy.

"Hey Liz. What's up?" he asked as he answered.

"Matt has strep throat."

"Oh. Well, that explains some things." He sounded relieved. They'd all been worried that Matt hadn't seemed much better recently.

Liz understood. She'd had the same concerns. "Yeah. The nausea and decreased appetite are most likely due to the infection, at least for the past couple of days. He's febrile now and feeling like crap. I'm on the way to get some penicillin."

"You know about him and medicine, right?"

Foggy had been very explicit about Matt's aversion to and frequent unwelcome reaction to multiple medications. "This should be better than any kind of anesthesia, though. Shouldn't it?"

"It's a toss-up. He really doesn't like Benadryl. Or it doesn't like him. Or whatever."

"Okay. Well, I'm staying with him tonight. Obviously. But I do have to work in the morning, and I don't think I can get out of it. It's already a traded shift."

"I'll stop by in the morning and Karen can check on him in the afternoon. Won't he mainly just sleep?" That's what he'd been doing so far this week.

"He should. I get off at 4 tomorrow instead of 7, so that's something."

"We've done this before, Liz. Which isn't to say that we don't appreciate you being around, because we do, for sure. But we've taken care of him when he's been sick before."

Liz's felt her face turning red. Of course they had. It's not like the man had never been sick before. "Right. Sorry. I'm getting a little possessive."

"It's okay. He's magnetic. I understand that." Foggy did; he'd been taken in from the first moment they'd met.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," Liz revealed. "I didn't mean to become entangled."

"I know. But these things happen, especially when Matt's involved." Foggy started to elaborate but stopped.

"What?" Liz wanted Foggy's input here.

He sighed and began slowly when he spoke again. "It isn't always like this, Liz. He'll get better, and he'll go back out there. Believe me when I tell you that it's impossible to keep him from his other life. And it's no fun wondering when he's out there and what he's doing when he is. At least I don't always know what he's doing in the middle of the night until he shows up the next day beat all to hell. But he's always chosen that over anything else, over anyone else." Foggy paused again. "I just wanted to make sure you know that before you become irreparably entrenched. You can get out now. Some of us aren't so lucky."

"Foggy."

"I don't mean that last part. I love him. I really do, but it's nerve-wracking. And I don't know exactly if it was him or them, but they never last. His relationships, I mean."

"Neither do mine," Liz pointed out. "So maybe two wrongs will make a right. I don't know, Foggy. I don't know what this is, but I hope that we'll come through as unscathed as possible. And even though that really never happens, I keep trying to hope for the best."

"Yeah," Foggy decides. "That's probably the way to go."

"I know how much you care about him, Foggy."

"It doesn't always matter," he's quick to point out.

"It does. He loves you." The depth of their relationship was obvious to anyone who saw the two of them interact. "He's just so damn stubborn."

"He's gonna get himself killed. And what am I gonna do then?"

"I don't know how to answer that."

"It's okay." Foggy sighed. "It was mostly rhetorical."

"I need to get his medicine and get back," Liz realized she'd been gone for a lot longer than she'd planned.

"Okay. Tell him…" Foggy sighed. "Actually, don't tell him anything."

"He's probably asleep."

"Be careful, Liz. He's dangerous," warned Foggy.

"I know, but I'm still going back."

"I'll check on him tomorrow," Foggy promised.

"Thanks, Foggy. Goodnight."

"Night, Liz."

Liz hurried on to the pharmacy and back to the apartment to check on the patient. "Matt?" she whispered as she reentered the bedroom.

"Liz?" He confused reply came from under the covers.

"Yeah. Sorry. Were you asleep?" she asked as she sat beside him.

"I think. It's all a little fuzzy."

She smoothed back his hair. His skin was cooler. "It's understandable. You're sick."

"I do feel a little less achy, though." Perhaps Advil wasn't the devil after all.

She rolled the vial of medicine in her hands, warming it. "This goes in your bottom. Flip over."

He did so and she drew up the viscous solution and injected it. Matt lay still, waiting to see what effect it would have on his senses as it eventually entered his bloodstream. The first sensation, after the searing sting of the needle and the burning infusion of the medicine, came in the form of a metallic taste. Not a heavy metal like iron or copper, though. Something different.

"What?" Liz asked as she watched his face contort as he tried to figure it out.

"It tastes weird."

"Okay." She wasn't sure there was anything to be done about that. "Do you feel okay? Anything else weird."

"I think I'm okay, but I'm not going to move from this position for a while until I'm sure."

"Listen, Matt, I have to work in the morning."

He raised up on his elbows. "Do you need to go now?"

She pushed him back down onto the pillow. "No. Not until the morning."

"I should brush my teeth."

"The chair's right here. Are you ready to move?"

"Yeah. Okay." His equilibrium was really screwy. Good thing he didn't plan to go flying across rooftops tonight.

Liz noted how unsteady he was as he moved into the chair. "I'm so sorry about this, Matt."

"I'll live. And hey, maybe this will be the worst thing that happens to me this week," he joked as they arrived in the bathroom.

"Maybe," she grinned. "Here's your toothbrush."

"Thanks. Did you talk to Foggy?"

"I did. Did you hear us?" She still wasn't completely clear on how all of that worked.

"I promise that I didn't even try. I just know how the two of you function, especially in regard to me."

"He'll be over sometime tomorrow morning."

"He doesn't have to do that," Matt decided as he leaned forward to spit in the sink.

"I know, but you need to let him."

"I don't need him to take care of me."

"I know that, too, but he needs to do it. Relationships require give and take."

Matt shrugged in conciliation and a maybe a bit of frustration. "I don't even have an appointment with Jim until next week. This is taking forever!"

"He said two weeks absolutely no weight bearing, and he'd see where you'll go from there," she reminded him. He really was on track as far as his foot was concerned.

"I haven't been meditating like I should be. It's always helped with healing in the past."

"How's it feeling?" Liz asked as he finished at the sink.

"Not so bad, actually. The bones feel more solid."

Liz ran her hand through his hair. "You'll be back on your feet before you know it."

"Yeah." He answered in agreement, although he sounded pretty flat.

She reached forward and kissed his neck. "You should go to bed now."

He leaned back against her. "I really should." She helped him back down the hall, and he moved over onto the bed. He reached for her. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah. I just need to grab my phone charger." She walked into the living room and rifled through her bag for a minute as she thought about where things could possibly go from here. The idea of calling Claire crossed her mind as Foggy's words replayed, looping over and over. Instead, she returned to the bedroom and climbed in beside an already snoring Matt. She wasn't leaving yet, at least not until Matt was feeling a little more like himself. Except she didn't even know what that would look like, or if there would be anything between them when he got there.

TBC