Nigel walked into the office, sincerely hoping that nobody was there. He was pretty sure that he was late enough that Sydney was in class or meetings all ready, and Claudia would hopefully be out flirting with some cute bloke from drama club or something.
He had woken up feeling like absolute rubbish. His nose and ears were all sorts of stuffed up so he was breathing solely through his mouth, his throat was so sore that it felt like someone had taken sandpaper to it. His lips were chapped and cracked, and his head both felt like it was full of nothing but fluff, while also being too heavy. The headache made every noise too loud and every light too bright, and he was so bloody cold. Nigel had made it to the office through a sheer force of will and the promise he had made Sydney that he'd collect the papers from her early afternoon class while she was in a meeting, after which he wanted to get started on marking them.
"Heya hunnybun!" Claudia said cheerfully. Nigel winced. Was her voice louder than normal? "You're late." She glanced up briefly from the filing cabinet she was rifling through.
Nigel walked to his desk and put his bag down on the surface. "Woke up late," he said. Or rather, tried to say. What came out was barely a sound at all. At least he didn't have to speak much today.
"Are you sick? You cannot be sick." Claudia walked around to sit at her desk, file in hand. "If you get me sick I'm going to be so mad. I have a date tomorrow night with the lead guitarist of this band I saw the other day at the club."
While Claudia was talking, Nigel pulled a book on Phoenician languages out of his bag and placed it on his desk before picking up the bag and dropping it mercilessly on the floor. Even the soft thud of the nearly empty bag as it landed grated on his hears and made his head throb; he closed his eyes. Today was going to be a long day. With what nearly amounted to a herculean effort, Nigel opened his eyes and sat at his desk, grabbing a tissue from the box on top of it and trying to clear his sinuses.
"Anyway, I've been trying to get this guy to ask me out for weeks Nigel. I finally wore him down and you're not going to ruin it for me." She slammed the file down on her desk. "Ew," she finished her tirade, when she saw him blowing his nose.
Nigel groaned. "Claudia, please shut up," he said putting his head in his hands. The words had barely been there and he had a feeling that he had just wasted the last of his voice on the worst comeback.
Claudia let out a huff. "Rude, Nigel."
He couldn't muster up the energy for another response. Simply biking to the office, walking through campus, and just the act of sitting at his desk had left him completely and utterly exhausted.
He lifted his head and started flipping the pages of the book listlessly, settling on one at random. His eyes floated over the page as the words on the swam in front of him.
Nigel tried to grab them. He reached out, and the words just laughed at him and danced further away. Frustrated he tried again, but his arms were so heavy, then he couldn't lift them at all.
"Nigel," a voice said softly.
"Mmt," he mumbled.
"Nigel," the voice came again. It was still soft, but more insistent.
"Five more minutes," he tried to say. He was shaking. Why was he shaking? It took longer than he would've liked to figure out that someone was shaking him, not that he was shaking on his own. He might as well have been though – he was freezing. Nigel would've jolted upright in alarm as slowly realized where he was, except that he could barley lift his head. He didn't remember falling asleep.
"Woah, easy there." Nigel looked up to see his boss leaning on his desk, her hand still on his shoulder.
"See? Totally sick," Claudia said from somewhere behind Sydney.
"I didn't mean to fall asleep," he tried to say, but all that came out was a croaking sound. As he realized he'd lost his voice completely he let his head thump back on the book that he'd been sleeping on. Suddenly the thought of collecting the papers occurred to him and he raised his head again. "Papers," he tried to say. Not even a rasp came out.
"What?" Sydney asked.
"I have no idea," Claudia said. She actually looked worried from what he could see of her.
"Papers," he tried again, and waved a hand vaguely in the direction of a stack of papers sitting on the corner of his desk.
Claudia's eyes widened and she nodded in a way that said she thought he'd lost it – a look he'd been on the receiving end of often enough. It was silent for a moment.
Sydney seemed to click into what he was trying to say, "Claudia collected them."
"Oh," he mouthed. OH. The stack off papers he had just pointed at – those weren't there that morning. They must be the ones he was supposed to have collected and started marking. Claudia could be very sweet and aware when she wanted to be.
"Come on, Nigel," the pressure on his shoulder increased before it disappeared. "You're going home." Sydney got up and went to her office.
Nigel was too tired to argue although he didn't look forward to taking his bike. He could call a taxi. Lost in thought, he didn't notice Sydney as she collected her things and gave Claudia a task list.
"You ready?" Sydney stood in front of his desk, her purse over her shoulder, keys in hand.
He tried to ask what he needed to be ready for but again, no sound.
"Come on."
He was so used to listening to her that he immediately struggled to his feet, using his desk for much needed leverage. Nigel placed the book in his bag and then reached for the papers. Maybe at home he could make some progress on them.
"Leave them." Sydney looked at him somewhat impatiently. "Let's go." Nigel swallowed, his throat protesting, and followed her out.
Claudia watched them leave from behind the safety of her desk.
The drive back was silent, or maybe Nigel only imagined that because one moment they were leaving the parking lot and in the next they were parked at his apartment building. He stared at it and sniffed. God he felt miserable.
"You okay to go in?" Sydney asked. Nigel nodded. Sydney looked at him skeptically. "Do you need anything?"
He shook his head, which made everything worse. Now that he was back at home he couldn't figure out why he'd left in the first place. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.
"Okay."
Nigel got out of the car, and by the time he'd made it through the door and up one of three flights of stairs to his own flat, he was gasping for breath, the air pure torture on his throat; it felt like it was on fire. He stared at the next flight of stairs, wishing they would just turn into an escalator, but no such luck. Nigel was seriously contemplating sitting on the landing and dying there rather than in his bed when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He sluggishly turned to see Sydney standing behind him – he hadn't heard her on the stairs even in heels. Relief enveloped him at the sight of her.
"Thought you could use some help," Sydney said as she grasped his arm and he leaned on her heavily as they went up the last two flights. Even with her help, and the two naps he'd had today, he was spent from the effort and he sagged against the wall next to his door.
"Keys in the bag?"
He shook his head and stuck his hand in a pocket. He gave the keys to Sydney and watched as she effortlessly let him into his own place.
"Are you going to be okay alone? I think you might have a fever."
Nigel tried to muster up a glare. He was an adult, thank you very much! The most he could do though, was stare at her pathetically. He did at least manage to turn his head when he sneezed so he didn't sneeze in her face, thank god.
She flashed him a sympathetic smile and followed him into the flat.
He hadn't done much decorating – still didn't spend a lot of time there between work and hunts, and when he was there he was reading or writing – so he had nothing really for Sydney to look around at. Still, he saw her look around the entryway which gave way to the living area with the same attention she gave to hunting grounds.
"Do you need anything?"
Nigel shook his head and opened his mouth to try to tell her he'd be just fine, and again failed.
Sydney grinned. "I don't think I've even seen you so quiet," she gently teased. "Look, go to bed. I'll come back to check on you."
Nigel just did as he was told and buried himself in blankets, pausing only long enough to take his shoes off.
Nigel slept for nearly three days before he finally emerged into the living space outside of his bedroom feeling much better. His head had cleared, and his throat was better. He tried saying a few words and they came out fully formed. He still had some sniffles and a minor cough, but nothing that he couldn't handle.
There were signs Sydney had been around – he had a hazy memory of someone giving him pills (and he found paracetamol in the medicine cabinet where there hadn't been any) and taking his temperature (there was a thermometer beside the paracetamol which he knew he didn't own), and there had constantly been a glass of water beside his bed when he wanted one. Collected mail was sitting on a table in the living area, including a package he was expecting, and basic food items in the kitchen that weren't yet expired, some of which he scarfed down. When she wasn't dragging him into dangerous situations, she could be very good to him.
Nigel celebrated getting his voice back by getting into an argument with Claudia only minutes after walking into the office. Having his voice back was wonderful.
