AN- As ever, thanks for all the reviews and the e-mails, at present this little offshoot is at least another two or three chapters. But I'm typing as fast as I can!

French bits – enfin, at last.

***

On his way out for his run the next morning Duncan hesitated outside the teenager's bedroom door. It was still very early. And the lad really needed his rest.

Still. It wouldn't hurt to just check on him.

He didn't need to wake him.

"Mac .." Richie looked up at him, his eyes wide and anxious.

"Well, I'll have to send you to bed early more often." Duncan teased.

Richie tensed.

"Rich, I didn't mean it like that." Duncan crossed the room, "I meant, it must have done you good. You don't usually show signs of life for at least another hour."

"Couldn't sleep." Richie mumbled.

Duncan frowned, noticing how tight and drawn Richie's features looked in his too pale face.

"Is your hand hurting you?"

"Some." Richie admitted miserably.

"Did you take your pills?"

"I couldn't .." Richie shook his head.

"Rich, the Doctor said two tablets every four hours. It must be at least eight since your last dose." Duncan was already tipping two small white tablets out of the bottle.

"Yeah, but .." Richie trailed off, as he chased down the pills with the water Duncan gave him.

"What?" Duncan sat down on the bed. "Rich, there's no reason for you to be in pain."

"I couldn't open the bottle." Richie admitted miserably.

Duncan swore fervently.

"Of course you can't. And I'm such a monster than you are too afeared to ask me for help." Duncan let his hurt show.

"I didn't want to be a bother." Richie apologised.

"And you don't think the idea of you lying here in agony because you canna ask me for help is a bother to me?"

Richie took a deep breath and looked the Immortal straight in the eye.

"I've had foster parents who'd say it was no more than I deserved."

***

If Duncan had learnt anything from his dealings with Richie, it was that the teenager had few defences against cosseting.

"This is hot chocolate." Richie peered at the cup in confusion.

"I know," Duncan settled himself back next to the teen, leaning against the headboard, with his own cup of tea.

"With whipped cream." Richie stressed.

"Keep up your strength." Duncan shrugged.

"And marshmallows?" Richie raised a brow.

"Are you complaining?" Duncan asked.

"No," Richie looked at him. "Its just .."

"You thought I'd serve you naught but bread and water?" Duncan guessed.

"Pretty much." Richie blushed.

"You said I could make you whatever I like," Duncan pointed out. "I like making you Hot Chocolate."

"Tess, is pretty mad, huh?" Richie buried his face in his mug.

Duncan blinked. "Why would you say that?"

"Because if you are being this nice to me, I figure she must be out there planning my execution."

"Rich, just because we are upset at something that you have done, doesn't mean we don't love you anymore." Duncan assured him.

"Always has." Richie said so softly Duncan almost didn't hear it.

Duncan slipped his arm around the teen's shoulder and pulled him gently against his chest, taking his own solace from the proximity of the lad he loved more than his own soul.

"I've let you handle the swords before," Duncan reminded him gently. "Would it have been so hard, to wait until I came home?"

"It wouldn't have been the same." Richie yawned against his chest.

"Aye. You wouldn't be sitting here with a gash the size of the Grand Canyon in your hand, for a start." Duncan chided.

"That part was an accident," Richie protested. "I didn't mean to screw it up."

"What exactly did you mean to do?" Duncan asked curiously

"Better," Richie said cryptically, snuggling a little closer to the Immortal's chest.

"Rich?"

When there was no answer Duncan looked down at the teen.

He was sound asleep.

"Figures." Duncan eased out gently from the sleeping teen. "You'd do anything to get out of coming for a run, my lad." He scolded fondly.

He gave him a kiss on the cheek, left a quick note for Tessa, and went out on his run.

He'd only be gone for a hour.

What could possibly happen?

***

"We have to take him back to the Hospital." Tessa greeted Mac as soon as he came in the door.

"What?" Duncan was alarmed, Richie had seemed well enough when he left. "What's wrong?"

"I think he may be allergic to the antibiotics." Tessa told him.

"Connor said he didn't have any allergies." Duncan protested.

"Well then, the records are wrong," Tessa huffed. "Because he told me before that he is allergic to Broccoli."

Even in these circumstances, Duncan couldn't help but smile.

"Um. Tess, you remember that conversation we had, about not everything that comes out of Richie's mouth is meant to be taken literally?"

"He's not allergic?" Tessa looked confused.

"No, he's just a teenager," Duncan assured her. "Who thinks anything remotely healthy is akin to poison."

"Well, right now, he is a very sick teenager." Tessa insisted. "He barely touched his breakfast. And he has been ill, twice, since you left."

"Are you sure it's the medication?" Duncan couldn't help but ask.

"My cooking would not make him so tired and lethargic," Tessa shot back.

"Lethargic?" Duncan blinked. That was not an adjective he could ever imagine anyone applying to Richie.

"That is the right word, non?" Tessa clarified. "He does not seem to care if I take his temperature, or give him a wash."

"He let you wash him?" Duncan's jaw dropped.

"Just the top half," Tessa said, with a slight blush. "But he was so quiet and unlike himself. I really think something is wrong."

"Aye," Duncan agreed. "Something is wrong alright."

"Enfin," Tessa threw up her hands, "Now will you please go and fetch the car."

"Tess, you didn't tell him we were taking him back to the Hospital, did you?" Duncan winced.

"Of course," Tessa nodded. "I do not want him to think that we do not care about him."

"And, he's still here?" Duncan found that hard to believe.

"Well, he would not be if you would stop arguing with me and fetch the car," Tessa pointed out.

"That's not exactly what I meant Tess." Duncan was already heading towards Richie's room.

***

Richie was sitting on the edge of his bed, he had managed to pull on his loose fatigue pants and shrug into his jacket, he'd given up on the idea of socks Duncan noted, and was swearing softly as he tried to figure out how to lie the laces on his sneakers with only one good hand.

"Going for a run?" Duncan asked lightly, leaning up against the door.

Richie spared him a brief, scathing, glance.

"You promised." He said shortly. "No dumping me at the Hospital."

"I did, Tessa didn't."

He'd meant it as explanation. But Richie's face went tight and hard.

"That's real cheap Macleod," he sneered. "If you wanted me out, I at least thought you'd have the guts to do it yourself. Not have your girlfriend do your dirty work for you."

"Actually," Duncan responded. "I think Tessa is right, maybe you do need to go back to the Hospital."

Richie looked like he had been hit in the gut.

"Because you are clearly hallucinating if you think that we would do aught but in care of you." Duncan's brogue thickened.

Richie looked down at his foot and tugged uselessly at the lace. Only when Duncan saw the drops of moisture hit the wooden floor did he realised that the lad was crying.

"Hey, none of that."

Scooping up the teen, he hugged him, tight and close, murmuring gentle reassurance as the shattered teen sobbed, hot tears of pain, fear and exhaustion into his chest.

"I'm sorry," Richie managed. "I just thought  .. and then you .. and Tessa said .."

"We just want you to get well, petit," Tessa appeared behind Duncan. "You were so sick."

"That's the antibiotics," Richie sniffed. "The tablets are so big, I can't swallow them and they start to dissolve in my mouth. Its tastes pretty bad, I guess that made me sick."

"But you have been so quiet .." Tessa worried, smoothing back his hair, as Duncan settled him on the bed and pulled off his sneakers.

"I was just trying to be good." Richie blushed.

"And now you are flushed .." Tessa put the back of her hand against his cheek. "Are you sure you are not sick?"

"No, I'm just dying of embarrassment," Richie looked awkward.

"Rich, there's naught amiss with showing your feelings to those who love you." Duncan reminded him, as he helped him out of his jacket and pants.

"You don't think that was a bit of an overreaction?" Richie challenged.

"Well, maybe just a bit," Duncan grinned at the look on the teen's face, as he tucked the comforter back around him.

"Duncan!" Tessa slapped him. "He has not been well and the medication he is taking is very strong."

"Aye, he's leery with loss of blood," Duncan teased. "Maybe we should get him some black pudding."

"What's that?" Richie asked suspiciously.

Duncan told him.

"That's gross, I'm going to be sick again." Richie made as if to get out of bed.

"You'll stay put, until you're told otherwise," Duncan told him. "I don't want you falling over your feet and doing yourself further mischief."

"You need your sleep, Richie." Tessa added her support, knowing how much the active teen would hate the enforced bed rest.

"Is this my punishment?" Richie asked quietly.

Duncan and Tessa exchanged a quick look.

If Richie was well enough to ask, he was well enough to hear their decision.

"We've been meaning to talk to you about that." Duncan informed him.

***
If you don't know what is in Black Pudding and you want to, you can e-mail me, there might be people eating their dinner reading this!