Harry woke the next morning and felt his heart sink as he registered his surroundings. He saw a flurry of activity in the room next to his. Nikki hadn't lowered her blind when she had gone to bed, so even from his position in his bed he could see at least two people fully suited up and moving around quickly. Well as quickly as was possible under the white protective suits. They were peering into the cardboard receptacles that only hospitals have and tipping the contents into specimen jars.
He moved to the window in one swift bound. Nikki was sat on the edge of her bed clutching yet another of the brown receptacles and looking decidedly pale. Someone was drawing more blood from her arm, but with the full suits on it was difficult to tell if it was the same grumpy doctor from yesterday or the helpful nurse.
Harry suspected his question had been answered when his sudden movement on his side of the glass drew the attention of one of the hazmat space suit beings who quickly lowered the blind. That would have to have been Grumpy Doctor.
In the bathroom mirror Harry inspected his face and upper torso for signs of a rash, redness, swelling anything to indicate he was ill. He still wasn't feverish. He didn't have a headache. How could he be fine and Nikki be throwing her guts up next door? She was only assisting, if anyone had got close to the victim it was him. So why was Nikki the one suffering?
Why did Nikki always suffer from his mistakes?
He started pacing up and down; the small room was really beginning to get on his nerves now. He'd caught up on any lost sleep already. What would he do for the rest of the day?
He leant against the window, knowing he couldn't see through but needing the comfort of feeling that she was close. He was sure she couldn't have been infected. She had looked tired all week, he remembered now. Maybe she had the sickness bug he'd had. It had knocked him out for 48 hours and even after that he was weak and had difficulty concentrating. That must be it, maybe she just had norovirus. He knocked his head against the glass.
Wishing your best friend had norovirus. How bad could a weekend get?
He found his note pad and began to write. He could lean it up against the window and then she would see the message whenever she opened the blind.
He couldn't imagine how she must be feeling.
"Nikki I'm worried about you. But I think this is a bug you already had before we came in here. I'm fine, I'm sure and I got closer to the body than you did, I don't think you've been infected from that. Maybe you just picked up that vomiting bug I had. I'm really sorry, really really sorry. I wish I could come in there and talk to you. Harry x"
Norovirus is also known as the winter vomiting bug, and it does what it says. It's nasty but does clear up after a few days.
I did warn you in got a bit angsty… I always love to hear what you think.