Hi Guys! It has been a crazy month! Sorry for the wait, but here is chapter four! Enjoy!
A long night it would be indeed. It wasn't even midday yet and Lynley was coughing hard like a barking seal. Simon stuck his finger in his book marking his page and watched his friend. Tommy's eyes watered and his face reddened as he hung his head over the edge of the bed possibly searching for the trash can Simon had pushed there just in case.
"You gonna be sick?" Simon asked quietly.
Lynley croaked a "no" and rolled over onto his back. He had had several coughing fits and found that lying on my back made him choke, but coughing into his sheets suffocated and exhausted him further. Every time he felt a tickle he rolled over searching for the open cool air down the side of the bed. His abs had begun to burn for how frequently he wrestled with the sheets, but Simon kept rolling him onto his back saying he would breathe better than on his stomach. Lynley was too tired to argue his point.
Lynley heard the scrape of the plate on his bedside table and opened his eyes, not recalling when he had closed them. How long had it been? A few minutes? An hour? More? Then a pleasant smell surrounded him, warm and rejuvenating. Chicken soup. Lynley pushed himself up onto an elbow and saw the steaming bowl of soup and the plate of salt crackers. A few bubbles of chicken fat shimmered around the edges of the bowl, and carrot discs bobbed gently as Simon picked it up and handed it to Lynley who had managed to prop himself against the headboard with a mountain of pillows stabilizing him. The soup warmed Lynley's lap and he almost didn't want to eat it, he just wanted to cuddle it if only to ease the chill in his bones. He had stopped shivering by sheer force of will in hopes of looking less pathetic in front of Simon. Simon nodded to the plate of crackers next to Lynley, and Lynley narrowed his eyes when he spotted the two red pills.
"You can glare at them all you want, old boy. But you still have to take them," chuckled Simon.
"What are they?" Lynley asked.
"Fever reducers. Your temperature was 102."
"When?" Lynley asked, his tone skeptical and accusing.
"Twenty minutes ago," said Simon patiently as he pushed the plate closer to Lynley so it bumped against his thigh and handed him the glass of water. So it was only twenty minutes thought Lynley. Where was Barbara? He was still so confused. Simon picked up the pills and pushed them into Lynley's palm, his patience wearing thin. Twenty minutes he waited while Lynley slept fitfully. No longer. Thank god the soup roused him, he knew Tommy for his short temper and clipped responses if he was woken abruptly. Simon pictured Lynley, all tousled hair and wrinkled jumper, motionless beneath his comforter on a Saturday morning when they were back at school. Simon was studying and his textbook slipped out of his lap and clattered onto the floor. Simon cringed, but when Lynley didn't stir he slid off his bed to retrieve his book. Without warning, Lynley's bony ankle shot out from beneath the comforter and caught Simon lightly in the chest sending him stumbling back a couple feet. Playful. Not to harm, but to warn. Lynley turned over in bed to face Simon, "Wake me up on a Saturday again, and I will do worse than that." Then he rolled back over cocooning himself, and passed back out within minutes.
Lynley swallowed the pills with a gulp of water. His hands flew to his throat as he tried to ease the sharp pain as they scraped his esophagus all the way down. Simon nodded in approval and took the glass from him and replaced it on the bedside table. Lynley slowly ate the soup and the shadows under his eyes began to fade slightly. The warm broth coated his sore throat a little and the gnawing sensation in his stomach disappeared. He could have sighed in pleasure. How long had it been since he had last eaten? Yesterday at breakfast? He remembered doing paperwork relentlessly yesterday, not stopping for a break when Havers dipped out to the pub for a lunch of fish and chips. He would have normally accompanied her, but he received a postcard that day. He read it then stuffed it into his desk drawer trying to forget about it. It was blank with a return address in Scotland. Helen. That left his heart feeling empty, but his stomach nauseated by the continued uncertainty of their relationship. When he got home he collapsed into bed, from fatigue he assumed. Denton offered to make him an omelet, but Lynley politely declined and turned off his lamp for bed...dismissing Denton at 7 pm. Denton noted the slight strangeness of Lynley's behavior, but was not about to question a night off. He closed the curtains where a little light still streamed in and locked up in a hurry before Lynley changed his mind. The brisk fall breeze invigorated Denton and he smiled, a pep in his step, as his thoughts drifted to Nancy and a bottle of wine.
Simon resumed reading his book and the two men sat in companionable silence for a time. Lynley asked once for his case files off his desk, and Simon shook his head not even looking up from his book. Lynley frowned and started to shimmy down to the edge of the bed. Simon peered over the edge of his book, an amused smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Such a workaholic, he thought. Nothing like his lazy days back at school. Lynley sat at the edge of his bed, breathing hard, he braced himself to stand and Simon cleared his throat.
"You would think that after collapsing twice you would just stay put," muttered Simon.
Lynley spun around. "Havers," he growled.
"She told me because I asked, Tommy," said Simon seriously. "She was quite worried about you, you know," he offered. Lynley's betrayed glare softened. "She did the right thing calling me."
"Better you than anyone else," whispered Lynley more to himself than to Simon. He crawled back over to his pillow mountain and lay on his belly, one eye on Simon. "Where is she?"
"She went to get a change of clothes and some supplies."
"Files?" Lynley's eye opened a little wider.
"No, like some more soup." Lynley deflated. "That canned stuff will only last so long. Is there anything else you would want?" Lynley's stomach turned at the thought. Simon saw his friend blanch. "Okay, fair enough," he chuckled.
Soon Lynley's eyes grew heavy and he slowly slipped down under the sheets. Simon hoped he would get some decent sleep this time. He didn't.