Henry had been so focused on offering assistance to Jo and so pleased when his plan worked that he hadn't really thought about how awkward this night could be for them. In the long silence that followed, he started to contemplate it. He had never been in Jo's home before and now he was going to be spending the night while being very sick. While the recent episode in the bathroom had been embarrassing for them both he knew it was likely to be only the beginning of a long and humiliating night. While he still knew he wanted to be there so he could help her, he wondered if it all might put a strain on their rather new friendship.
Unease filled the air between them until Jo finally spoke up. "I'll get you something more comfortable to wear," she offered nervously.
He blushed and was frustrated that he was already feeling awkward. "Thanks," he managed to remind himself to say as she stood and left the room.
If it had been any other time he would have likely felt himself possessed by curiosity and, having the room to himself, would have satisfied it by familiarizing himself with the place Jo called home. As it was, it was all he felt he could do not to fall asleep while he waited on her to come back. He closed his eyes, his body slouching over slightly with the fatigue but he willed himself to remain conscious until she returned.
After a few minutes he heard footsteps coming down the hall and he slowly forced his heavy eye lids open just as she walked up next to him. She was wearing a matching set of worn, soft thermal pajamas and the sight woke him up considerably. However, illness had slowed down his thought processes and too late he remembered it was rude to stare. When he realized how obviously struck he was by the domesticity of her current clothing he looked away, too quickly to be natural. She'd already noticed anyway.
"Here," she said pushing her hands towards him.
He looked up at the clothes she was handing him and he couldn't stop himself laughing a bit. It was a NYPD t-shirt and sweatpants set, much like several he had at home that he had acquired during his arrests for indecent exposure.
"What?" she asked, a hint of a smile at the corner of her lips. "I know they're not as stylish as what you normally wear but it will certainly be more comfortable for you right now than all that fru fru," she said waving a hand at his now rumbled clothes.
"This is perfectly fine," he said, still smiling at the inside joke as he took them. She didn't know about his 'skinny dipping' yet. "Thank you."
Her smile quickly faded. Her face quickly twisted in a odd expression and her mouth quivered slightly. " 'Scuse me," she said before bolting out of the room. He heard the bathroom door shut hard and he understood.
When she vacated the bathroom several minutes later he got up and, without a word, went in himself. He changed into the borrowed clothes which felt so much better than he ever remembered them feeling. He liked formal clothes was normally quite comfortable in them but right now he was glad to be rid of the tight stiff fabric in favor of warm, soft cotton.
This moment of bliss was brief as his stomach demanded to be attended to once more. He was glad, at least, that he was already in the bathroom and that it saved himself a trip. But this need to vomit again so shortly after the last time filled him with a sense of foreboding; at this rate, he feared it was going to be a very long night.
He left the bathroom feeling hollow but at least slightly more comfortable. Jo was back in her curled up position on the couch but her eyes were open and she was staring listlessly at the ceiling. "Hey," she greeted weakly but with a smile. She looked miserable but there was a hint of real pleasure in her voice upon seeing him. Even if this was an awkward night, he was glad he was there.
"Hey," he greeted back as he sat down.
"So," she said. "How do we beat this thing, Doctor?"
"Well, hydration is the main thing. With all we are...losing, dehydration is the main concern," he replied from his medical training, even though the thought of even drinking water seemed to be more than he thought he could handle. He was almost sure that if he drank it now he would just throw it back up. Despite his advice, he made no move to get them any.
Jo didn't seem to be in a hurry either. "Is there any medicine we should take?" she asked, her voice a bit hopeful. Surely, she wanted something to relieve the symptoms.
He was sorry he had to burst her bubble yet again. "I'm afraid not."
"But why not? Something to help with the...you know."
"As unpleasant as the..." he was going to say 'vomiting' but didn't think either of them could handle hearing it,"...the symptoms are, they are the body's way of healing itself. Expelling is how the body rids itself of the contagion as quickly as possible. If you stop that, you will only be prolonging your illness."
"Aww, come on," she protested, her voice taking on a small uncharacteristic bit of whininess to it.
"The best thing we can do is just let this run its course," he said giving her arm a quick and playful pat to help soften the difficult diagnosis.
"Doctors never have any good news," she said with frustration but he could tell it was exaggerated because there was a smile on her face.
"Hey, it's not my fault; I'm just the messenger. At least tell me that I have better bedside manners than most physicians."
"Hmmm," she said considering him. "I don't know...time will have to tell," she teased.
Jo managed to slowly sit up on the couch beside him. She paused with a hand on her stomach and Henry guessed the shift of gravity on her stomach had caused a sudden wave of nausea. He knew that any movement, no matter how slight, was causing it to assault him. She placed a hand on her mouth and even looked like she was about to leave the room again but she didn't. After a moment she sat back against the couch and removed her hand from her mouth.
"Whew. False alarm," she said with pleasant surprise. "We're good." She turned towards Henry, her other hand still lingering on the offending but, for now, silent stomach. "So, if our only option is to wait for all of this to pass then I guess we might as well enjoy the only good thing about being sick."
"What's that?"
"Watching lots of T.V.!"
He tried not to but he was pretty sure he grimaced. That did not sound like a benefit at all. Noticing the lack of enthusiasm, Jo gave him a playful bump on his shoulder. "Oh, come on."
Henry was momentarily distracted from the conversation. Jo's shove, though minor, caused his stomach to rock back and forth. He took several deep breaths, attempting to calm the now violent churning of his stomach. He closed his eyes and concentrated all his thought and energy into not getting sick but it was several shaky moments before he was sure he would win the battle.
When he opened his eyes again Jo was staring at him with an apologetic look on her face. "Sorry."
"It's fine," he said, pausing and taking another deep breath. "So, you were saying, T.V.?"
"Yes," she said going on. "Let's watch a movie. It might not be your favorite pastime but it will distract us and I don't think we have the strength for much more than that anyway."
He had to agree with her on that. "Alright," he agreed, albeit still a bit reluctantly. "Well, ladies first. Chose one for us," he said with a smile.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm sure we'll have time for more than one." As tired as he was right now, he knew he could never fall asleep and remain asleep with the painful cramps striking their way through his digestive system.
"O.K." she said getting up and grabbing the remote from the table and a blanket that was sitting on the floor. She threw it on the couch and the edge of it brushed up against Henry. It was amazingly fluffy and soft. He was very happy when she sat down and shared it with him, straightening it over both of them. Henry felt himself melting into the couch, covered in the cozy warmth of the blanket, feeling, for the moment, quite content.
Jo surprised him by scooting closer to him under the blanket. She scrunched up again and nestled herself against his side. Apparently a sick Jo was a cuddly Jo. He was surprised but delighted to find this out. He chanced to wrap an arm around her shoulders and instead of throwing him off of her like he normally would have expected she snuggled in even closer and laid her head on his shoulder. Without her being able to see his face he allowed himself to smile widely.
If having food poisoning allowed him to cuddle with Jo like this maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.
Henry took it back. He took it all back. Having food poisoning was terrible and nothing was worth it. Even the cuddling wasn't worth it because they didn't end of doing very much of it.
Over the next hour Henry and Jo didn't seem to spend more than a handful of minutes together on the couch. Almost as soon as Jo had started the movie to play, they were hit with what could only be classified as the sequel to the torturous event that had taken place in the bathroom when they had first gotten home. Almost constantly, he was in the bathroom or she was or they both were. It was misery and it showed. Neither of them even had any of the cursed gyros left in their stomachs but their bodies didn't seem to pay attention to that. The heaving continued on just as violent as when it had begun.
They didn't make it much farther than the opening credits of the movie while it was all going on. Eventually, the episode mostly passed and they both collapsed in two lumps on opposite ends of the couch weak, empty and exhausted. Burning, sweating and most definitely running a fever now, Henry couldn't even force himself to cozy up under the blanket; it had been abandoned in frustration on the floor by both of them.
Jo weakly lifted the remote and pushed the start button once again. "Ugh...I feel like I left part of my soul in the bathroom."
He groaned just thinking about what had recently occurred in there. "Just hang in there," he said trying to sound encouraging though his wispy tone made it sound like he was on death's door. "We should be mostly be recovered by tomorrow."
"Either that or we'll be dead."
"I have had food poisoning several times and I can assure you that it is very rarely fatal."
"Don't take all of my hope away, Henry," Jo joked but without her usual smile. She seemed too weak for it.
They were able to watch the remaining two hours of the movie with only a couple of brief interruptions. Jo had picked Pride and Prejudice, telling Henry it was one of her favorites. He hadn't pegged her for an Austenite and made a mental note to ask her more about that when he actually had any mental energy available. At the moment, he found himself watching the movie through an illness induced haze, which both numbed him and slowed his thoughts.
This didn't particularly bother him even though he had not seen this movie before. He'd seen many versions of this story, of course, over the years but he knew he had not seen this relatively new 2005 version. But beyond registering this fact he didn't have many thoughts about it. This was fine because he didn't care much for period pieces. It wasn't that he would say he disliked them it was just they made him feel a strange nostalgic melancholy combination. It was a feeling that wasn't sad exactly; it was very hard to describe but he knew he didn't like feeling it. Also, they were usually grossly inaccurate and there was something just a little too strange about watching them with others who viewed it as ancient history as opposed to seeing them as distant memories like he did.
But the waging war within in him created an almost drunk like emotional numbness all over and he didn't feel much of anything at all. Jo was also quiet for most of the movie too, most likely feeling just as consumed by her illness as he was by his.
They were nearly finished with it when she got up to go to the bathroom but insisted he keep watching. They had been pausing the movie for each other whenever one of them had to leave. He thought about continuing to watch but once he heard the bathroom door shut he stopped the movie. He knew she wouldn't want to miss the big ending and he really didn't care about the movie so there was no need to barrel on without her. He closed his eyes and waited for her.
He had very nearly fallen asleep when he jerked awake, suddenly alert and realizing Jo had been gone a very long time. While they had been spending a lot of time in there, the blaring neon green of the digital clock on Jo's T.V. stand showed she had been gone for 30 minutes. That was a little longer than he felt comfortable with. He had some very legitimate fears that she might have passed out in there.
He decided to go and check on her to see if she needed help. He got up carefully and shakily, the terrible vision of Jo collapsed on the bathroom floor giving him new strength. He wobbled down the hall, losing his balance once and actually running into the wall with his shoulder. Despite himself, and all the ways he had already humiliated himself tonight, he found himself embarrassed by his clumsiness and glad Jo hadn't been there to witness it. He continued on, holding a hand to his now throbbing shoulder.
He was surprised to see that the door to the bathroom was closed. They had both vomited in front of each so many times that they didn't even worry about being seen anymore. They had long ago given up the pretense that they could preserve any privacy or delicacy any more. But he was more surprised and alarmed to hear the sound of Jo moaning quietly from the other side of the door.
"Jo? Are you alright?" he asked, suddenly alert and worried his fears were about to be confirmed. He tried the knob but found she'd locked it.
It instantly got quiet on the other side. "Henry…what are you doing here?" she asked with clear nervousness in her voice.
"You've been in there a long while; I got worried."
"I'm fine," she said in about as unconvincing a tone as was possible and her voice was strained with obvious pain. He could hear her breathing quickly almost like she was trying to contain cries.
"No, you aren't. I heard you moaning."
"Oh," she said and he could tell he'd embarrassed her. "I'm just...having some different symptoms.
"What kind of symptoms?" If her situation was worsening then maybe medical intervention would be needed.
"Well...let's just say that the food is, uh, moving its way through my system."
It took him a minute, much longer than it would have normally, but eventually he got there. "Oh," he said in realization and with a lack of something better to say. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No!"
"But you sound like you're in pain."
"I am in pain. But there's nothing you can do about that."
"But-"
"Henry Morgan! Don't you dare open that door!" she ordered firmly.
He stopped, relenting, knowing that the tone in her voice was not an empty threat and that there would be repercussions for not listening to her. He also knew there really wasn't anything that he could do for her but he felt bad leaving her alone in her suffering. "Well...there's really nothing I can do?"
"You can go back to the living room."
"Jo-"
"Henry, please," she begged. "I don't want you on the other side of the door right now. O.K.?" she pleaded and he could hear the desperation in her voice.
"Alright," he said, giving her the privacy she wanted. "But if you need anything, just call for me."
"Thank you!" she said quickly and very dismissively.
Henry did go and wait in the other room but he was worried the entire time. It was another 20 minutes before he finally heard the door to the bathroom click open. He waited to hear her coming down the hall but she never did. He got up to look and found her leaning against the door frame, her eyes closed and a hand pressed to her forehead.
"Are you alright?" he said walking quickly over to her.
"I guess I'm just a little dizzy," she admitted. She didn't protest when he moved in and wrapped an arm around her to help her back to the living room. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned heavily into him, quite relying on his help. He wished he had the strength to pick her up and carry her but he knew better than to kid himself into thinking that was possible right now.
He got them back to couch and slowly lowered them back down. Jo left her arms wrapped around him and her eyes were still closed. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked worried. He was not used to seeing her so drained and frail.
"Yeah," she said opening her eyes and giving him a smile. "I'm just so tired, you know?"
"That I do," he agreed. "We still have the big finish of your movie to watch," he said as enthusiastically as he could as he reached for the remote, hoping it would distract her and make her feel better. She pulled her legs up and remained leaning against him obviously ready to proceed.
He was alert enough now to comprehend the ending of the movie. He was now aware enough that he started to have some of those thoughts he'd previously been numbed to. When the movie was over Jo looked over and noticed the look on his face. "Are you feeling sick again?" she asked.
"No," he said shaking his head. He hadn't realized he'd been outwardly displaying his discomfort.
"You didn't like it," she said with a bit of disappointment.
What could he say? He couldn't tell her how he now seemed to remember so many things, things he always kind of forgot he remembered until he watched something like this. He couldn't possibly convey the melancholy of watching a movie portray a lifestyle that he remembered living but that he knew he would never once again experience.
"No, it was fine," he answered, even though he could hear that his tone wasn't quite right.
"You're just another man," she said waving a hand in his direction as she leaned forward for the remote and turned the movie off. "I guess I can't expect you to love a romance story. But I did think if any man would like it would be you."
"Why is that?"
She smiled. "Well, you're just so old fashioned and proper I thought you would be a sucker for these period pieces. Plus, you kind of remind me of Mr. Darcy."
"Why?" he asked suddenly, letting his imagination run away with him. For a second, he imagined that his 19th century self was showing through and she could see. Of course, he came to his senses and realized how ridiculous it would be for her to think such a thing.
"Take it easy," she said with a laugh noticing his sudden alarm and mistaking it for offense. "And just for future reference Henry, if a woman compares you to Mr. Darcy that is not an insult."
"It isn't?" he asked noticing the glint in her eye.
"No, it's kind of like the farthest thing from it."
"Oh," he said. That was curious. Then another thought occurred to him. She had just said he was like Mr. Darcy. What did that mean? He couldn't suppress a smirk that spread across his face at the thought
"I only meant," she said smiling but looking a little embarrassed as she realized what she'd said and attempted to wiggle out, "you seem to have similar personalities."
"But he's so awkward. People hate him. They think he's rude and pompous."
"They think that if they don't know him. But the once they get to know him they realize he's one of the kindest, most generous men they know and one the most loyal of friends they could ever have. That reminds me a lot of you."
Henry was extremely touched by her words. He would have to admit that not too long ago he had been rather withdrawn and awkward himself. But in a short time he had made a solid friendship with Jo. One that was even willing to go through all the unpleasantness of food poisoning together. That really did mean something; not everybody was willing to take care of a friend through illness. Besides Abe, he knew she was the only person alive who would be willing to do that for him.
In the silence that followed, she must have realized the significance of her statement. If she weren't already flushed with fever he was sure she would have blushed.
"Anyway," she said looking away and quickly changing the subject, "I still have yet to see the BBC version. That's on my to-watch list," she said gesturing awkwardly at the T.V.
"Well, let's watch it," he said. He'd suddenly had a change of heart and felt like he wouldn't mind watching it again with her.
She laughed a little. "That's very nice of you. But I won't put you through that. It's six hours long."
"Oh," he said, clearly looking uncomfortable with the offer he'd just made.
"Don't worry," she said reassuring him. "It's alright. We'll watch something else. Your turn to pick."
Henry took a deep breath. "Alright. But first, and don't take this as a reflection on your movie choice or your very lovely words, if you'll excuse me for a few moments," he said rising quickly, feeling those ominous stomach cramps that warned him he needed to find the bathroom as soon as possible. Apparently, it was now time for him to have some different symptoms as well.
He walked away quickly hearing Jo laugh quietly behind him as he went.
