A/N: So it's starting to become the norm for slightly later post-days but that should be fine (I hope). Anyways, this is a short bit of fluffy fun that I got in as a request on tumblr as "April and Andy take care of each other." Remember, you can always talk to me in reviews, PM's, but probably the easiest would be on tumblr.

Either way, enjoy!

"So do I just put the cold thing on your face or what?" Andy asked, tossing a small blue bag between his hands.

"I have a headache," April gave him a look and he set the compress on the kitchen counter. "That's for if I break my leg or something. Where'd you get it anyways?"

"I've got like three boxes of these," he explained, moving over to the couch and sitting down, "for when, y'know, I fall down and hurt myself."

April shook her head and sat back in the couch, rubbing her temples. That didn't seem to be helping but she always saw people doing that when they said they had headaches, so in the end all that did was tell April people were still full of shit. Andy moved again, bouncing on his feet as he bounded up off the couch.

"So, what do you want me to do?" he asked, smacking his hands together. "There's some bottles in the bathroom with pills in them that Burly says I'm not allowed to eat. Maybe those are good for headaches?"

"Something tells me no," she groaned. "I don't even know man, my eyes feel like they're on fire and I just want to sleep."

"Oooh, what about a massage?"

"Like, on my head?" April scrunched up her nose in confusion and shook her head. "No, that sounds weird."

"Yeah, you're right," he said seriously, scratching his face in contemplation. "I could play that weird music you like really loud – wait, no that's the opposite of what we want… right?"

April nodded slowly, hoping that the minimum amount of movement would get her idea across without her having to talk anymore. Blinking rapidly seemed to be helping a little bit but when Andy looked at her like she was about to sprout wings and fly away she stopped.

"Well, I'm fresh outta ideas babe," he slumped down next to her and threw an arm over her shoulder.

Andy's arm made the perfect spot for the back of her neck to nestle into, so April just dug backwards with her body until she was properly smashed up to Andy. Lolling her head back and blinking a few times, April already felt a little bit of pressure receding from her head. Pushing her head forward again she moved over to lay across one half of the couch and rest on Andy's side and shoulder.

"No, this seems pretty good," she mumbled into his shirt as she tried to ignore the lances of pain in her eyeballs.

April had never heard a grown man complain as much as Andy did, or at least when he had a broken nose. If it wasn't for his constant moaning she would have found his face covered in plaster hilarious, but when he kept pushing on his nose and crying out in pain she wanted to smack him.

"Ow, hey April… look at this!" he pushed at one of his nostrils causing a small crinkling noise to come from his nose. "Ow, God… that's so cool, right?"

"No Andy, ew stop," pulling her head away from him in mild disgust she pushed his hand aside. "You're gonna screw up your nose."

"Can that happen?" Andy asked, eyes going wide and hands stilled. "Can it get stuck, like my face?"

"Yep, that'll totally happen," she smirked. "If you keep doing that your nose will just… be stuck pointing the wrong way."

Immediately he dropped his hands to his side and April laughed a little. Sometimes he was so easy, she thought. He just joined in laughing, but still didn't move his hands at all from their position. April never made a concerted effort to make fun of him, unless she was incredibly mad at him then it was probably okay and mostly because he had no shame to speak of. Most times he got sick or hurt himself all she had to do was tell him something stupid like his face would stuck that way and he'd stop.

"Wait, so I could like break my nose and get a fake identity," he started, "and then, like, steal stuff and not get in trouble for it?"

April began a few sentences and stopping every time she got a few words in, not sure how to explain everything to him. Instead she just nodded.

"Does that mean we could get married as different people if you broke your nose?" he asked with a weird glint in his eyes.

"Maybe, but remember what I said Andy," she gave him a pointed look, expecting an answer.

"Yeah yeah, only when we do it and no closed fists," he nodded, smiling.

"Good job," April leaned over and kissed him, accidentally bumping into his nose resulting in another loudly voiced:

"Fuck!"

It was hard for Andy to think of his wife as anything but super hot, but if any situation were ripe for that it was hearing her hack up a lung into a toilet. He thought she'd just be immune to the flu from now on like he was, but Andy was apparently wrong. Very wrong if those noises were any indication.

"You okay in there?" he asked timidly.

"I've never puked this much in my life," she moaned in response. "How do you think I'm doing?"

He grimaced and walked back into the living room, sitting down and trying to block out the noises. Maybe he should get her some comfort food, like a pizza – but he shook that thought away remembering how well that went over the last time she was this sick. Andy never knew how to handle these situations other than sit on his hands and wait so he literally did that.

After a while she eventually came out of the bathroom looking even worse for wear than before going in. Turning around, she headed towards the bedroom where she would likely lie in bed for another day or two.

"Do you need anything?" he asked after her.

"The sweet release of death," she yelled without looking back.

"Okay, honey," Andy responded happily.

That usually meant he was supposed to leave her alone, so Andy left the house for practice. The last time he tried to help when she told him to scram just ended in anger and a few extra bruises. He was already an hour late, but hopefully Burly would understand. He did but they only had about twenty minutes before their scheduled time ended and the night shifts started, so Andy left quickly afterwards. Instead he spent the rest of the night drinking at the bar nearest the rehearsal space.

When he got back home, feet a little unsure and head totally bashed in from the alcohol, April was sitting on the couch and staring intently at the wall ahead of her.

"You… y'okay?" his speech was getting slurred as he sat down next to her.

"Fine," she answered. "Thanks for being cool about it."

"I… yep, you told me to go," he answered, nodding. "I'm a good husband."

"The best one," she answered, her head swaying back and forth seemingly without her consent, "like, ever."

"Aww, that's awe-"

He was going to say awesome or awesomesauce, at least that's what Andy thought the next day, but the thing about trying to accept compliments from your sick wife is that you want to try and avoid what he would begin to term as 'the blast radius.' It would take him a few cycles to get the smell out of his jacket and the stain was pretty much etched into their couch forever, but Andy knew that he at least did something right by ignoring April and drinking by himself.