Nimadge prompted: sick!Eric and reluctantly helping Tris


Patient

Sniff.

Sniff-sniff.

I ground my teeth and slowly counted to ten. Four, five, six, sev- Sniff.

"Will you please get a handkerchief? Or throw yourself off the roof? Either works, thank you," I snarled.

Eric glowered at me before deliberately rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand. "I will when you agree that it's too fucking cold to be working outside," he countered.

I rounded on him and pulled a piece of scrap cloth from his front vest pocket. "It's only October."

"It's forty degrees with windchill." Sniff.

Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. I finished my countdown before shoving the make-shift handkerchief into his palm. "We have to deal with the weather if we're called in to a situation. Maybe if you wore sleeves you wouldn't be sick."

He scoffed. The effect was lessened by the interrupting sneeze and follow-up nose blowing. "It's only October," he parroted my words back at me. "Should still be able to wear my vest without this sneezing bullshit."

The radio at my belt squawked. "I know, I know," I said quickly. "Now shut up and go get the jacket Richards brought out for you. He just pulled up."

Eric sighed in relief. "You know telling a Leader what to do isn't allowed, right?"

I lifted up onto my tip-toes and planted a kiss on his cheek. "What can I say? I'm a rebel."