XXVIII

That night, shortly after dinner, Eleven interrupts her fourth comment in a row about the movie to cough.

"Hm." She clears her throat. "Hm."

Henry chuckles. "While I love seeing you so excited, if you talk too much, especially if you're not used to it, you can hurt your throat."

Eleven puts a hand to the area: indeed, she has noticed a somewhat uncomfortable feeling a few moments ago, as if something was scratching her, but from the inside.

"Go to bed," Henry suggests, smiling.

"But… the dishes…" Her voice sounds breathless and talking only makes the pain worse.

"I'll take care of it," he assures her as he stands up and takes the empty plate from in front of her before she can insist. "Turn on the heating in your room, take a bath with hot water, wrap yourself up in a blanket and rest."

So she does.

Eleven is already buried under a mountain of covers when Henry knocks on the door.

"May I come in?" he asks with a soft voice so as not to wake her in case she had already fallen asleep, or so she guesses.

"Yes!" Eleven exclaims, though it sounds more like a breathless squeal than a proper word.

Despite this, Henry seems to hear her and enters. After closing the door behind him so as not to leave any gaps through which the wind could slip, he goes to her. Eleven notices that he has a white cup in his hands.

"I see you're ready to hibernate," he teases her gently. "But I would like you to drink this; it will be good for your throat."

Eleven straightens up in bed as Henry frees a hand to pull a chair in the corner of the room toward him. After sitting down, he offers her the cup: "Careful," he warns her. "It's hot."

Her hands carefully wrap around the mug and she enjoys the heat that is transferred from the ceramic to her fingers; soon, however, it becomes too much, so she rearranges her hands to hold onto the handle. Finally, she takes a sip. "Sweet…" she mutters.

"Shh, don't talk," Henry advises. "But, yes, it is tea with honey. It will help with the inflammation."

Eleven nods and continues to drink.

"Careful, don't…" Henry's mouth closes at the abrupt hiss of pain she lets out. "It's what I was trying to tell you," he sighs. "That you were going to burn yourself."

The little girl blushes slightly—she doesn't know if it's because of the cold, the heat, the tea, or the shame she feels. Henry, for his part, just places his hand on the curly locks on her head and ruffles her hair in an affectionate gesture before getting up. "Drink it slowly, but make sure you finish before it gets cold. I'll go to bed now, but, remember, call me if you need anything."

Eleven nods, and since she can't speak, she releases one of her hands to wave him goodbye.

Henry is sound asleep when something shifts. As soon as he notices the weight of someone else in his bed, he is wide awake. Instinctively, he straightens and reaches out: his bedroom lights come on as he immobilizes the intruder.

Across from him, Eleven winces and shrinks into herself, shivering. Henry instantly relaxes and cancels the effect of his powers.

"Eleven." His voice is hoarse from sleep; he clears his throat for a moment and blinks several times in an attempt to clear his vision. "I'm sorry, I was asleep; I did not recognize you."

She just nods and puts a hand to her wrist.

"Sorry," Henry repeats. "Did I hurt you? Let me…"

"No, I was just… scared."

Henry suppresses a grimace upon hearing her raspy voice. "How are you?" he asks her, and then he notices the red on her cheeks; mechanically, he puts a hand to the girl's forehead. "You're burning up," he mutters.

Eleven nods her head in affirmation.

"Can't… sleep…"

"I can see why," Henry murmurs, getting up from the bed. "Sit down and wait for me here; I'm getting the first aid kit."

He leaves his bedroom and goes to the bathroom. Just a few minutes later, he returns to the room and goes to sit next to her, thermometer in hand. "I'll take your temperature; raise your arm."

Three minutes later, Henry removes the thermometer and measures just how much the mercury has risen.

"Hmm. It's barely a low-grade fever, but we're not risking it." He places the instrument back in the first aid kit and removes a glass bottle with pills; he pulls one out and hands it to her. "Hold this for me; I'll get you some water."

Then he gets up again, but this time he goes down to the kitchen. When he's back, he kneels down in front of Eleven—who is still sitting on the edge of the bed—and offers her a glass of water.

"You remember how to swallow pills, right?" he asks to be sure. Eleven nods in response and pops the pill in her mouth; without hesitation, she swallows it. "Great. This should be enough for you to go back to sleep. If you aren't feeling better in the morning, we'll go to the doctor." Henry then stands up and offers her his hand. "Come; I will accompany you to your room."