I do Not own the Anime/Manga Ghost Hunt, or its characters.

A/N: Sorry for not updating as quickly as usual! Life has gotten so hectic, (work, wedding planning, getting sick - can I blame John? - and a whole messy business with people) I barely have time to breath let alone write! I'm sorry! And I'm sorry this is a short chapter! Sorry!

After we were changed, Monk settled down with his headphones and his laptop. I took my medicine and crawled into bed, suddenly dizzy with exhaustion. I had done a great job ignoring my sickness all day - but now that I had nothing to do, nothing to focus on, it hit me like a freight train.

Coughs ripped through my frame like someone was trying to tear out my lungs while I was still trying to use them - painfully and harshly. Monk had propped up several pillows, trying to ease my breathing. He yelled hoarsely for the others, having tried and failed to find his cell. His hands - so very cold hands - were on my face, feeling my temperature. He was cursing every god he could think of, before bundling me up and stumbling to his feet, me wrapped tightly in his arms.

The others were down at Base still.

With reeling senses, I jerked and fought as I was being lifted - I felt his grip slip. The room, my head, my stomach was spinning - round and round we go! Where will we stop? Hell if we know! Tears had collected in my eyes by the time I was able to draw ragged breaths. He threw open the men's locker room door and rushed to the shower stalls. He put me on the floor, saying something I couldn't hear over the drowning blood sloshing in my ears.

He snatched the quilt, throwing it behind him and went to pull my shirt over my head. Dread curled deep in my stomach, panic clawing along my nerves. I focused on those emotions, trying desperately to draw enough strength to get him to stop. Stop. Stop. No. Stop. Monk! Stop it!

I struggled against his hands, trying to rip myself away. But I was trapped between him and the cold wall, unable to even stand. I couldn't even hear my own voice over the sound of my heart picking up its pace - but it was also now in my throat. "Monk! S-Stop!"

"We need to cool you down, John." He sounded like he was trying to coax a scared animal out from under a car or something. There was a grim look in his eyes, a firm set to his jaw that I didn't like. "Your fever has spiked high. You probably don't understand what I'm saying - and I'm sorry for that, for having to do this - but bare with me."

And with that, the shirt was up and over my head - I think I heard the tearing of fabric.

I sat there dazed, the white room hazing over as the darkness at the edges of my vision crept closer and made me unable to see the majority of the area around me. The white hurt. The white was cold, but my limbs were far to heavy to even think about moving. The white was blinding. I needed to sleep. I heard the sound of metal creaking - it jarred me, my heart now once more in my throat. There was what sounded like water falling. My eyes rolled to him, only half open, as he peeled off his own shirt.

He lifted me again, and I found myself shrinking away from him - the fight gone out of me.

"Is okay, man."

It was the only warning I got before I was thrust under a spray of cold water.

I can't say I remember much after that.

-X-

When I opened my eyes, I was in Mai and Ayako's room. It was lit, people were talking in low tones and I was laying with my back to them. Confusion invaded the sleepiness and I shot up as alarm seared through me. I was under a dark purple blanket, feeling an uncomfortable roll in my gut twisting with an all too familiar urge. I was on my feet and out the door, it slamming into the wall and me barely able to keep my uneven footing, before the others could react.

I only just made it to the toilet when the vomit began spewing.

My hands caught the rim, my shoulders convulsing and stomach twisting. I gulped air greedily in between the vomiting, hardly able to drag in air before I was puking again. My eyes squeezed shut, body lurching as I prayed that it would end soon. The foul smell rose to meet me, choking off the fresher air and making it all the harder. Stomach acid burned my already sore throat as I heaved again and again and again.

Hands were on my shoulders seconds later, making me jerk and trying to look and see - only to upset my sensitive stomach once more.

"Damn," I could hear Ayako grimace.

"How is he?" There was a voice...like it was far off, echoing slightly and muffled.

"Sick." She huffed angrily over her shoulder as I heaved once more. She carded her fingers through my hair - I could feel them shaking - and tried to be soothing, "It's okay. Just...let it all out. Okay?"

No problem there, mate.

After a few more rounds, I felt it safe to lean back onto my heels. My arms and legs were shaking horribly - the smell was putrid. I flushed the toilet as Ayako wet down a rage and wiped my face. The cold was welcome, and I sighed heavily. After deeming my stomach empty - truly empty - I stood unsteadily. She helped me to the closest sink. I washed out my mouth, before pooling cool water into my hands and splashing my face.

She handed me a towel, face etched in concern. "How are you feeling?"

I took stock - and to my amazement, "I feel... a lot better than I have in days."

She gave a slow nod, a smirk slowly forming. "Then I suggest we leave."

"Leave?" I cocked my head like a dog. But I saw a head over her shoulder - a head with long brown hair whose body was wrapped in a cream towel. I felt my eye twitch seconds before I slapped both hands over my eyes. I could feel a dark flush stealing across my cheeks. "Where...Ayako, where are we?"

"The women's locker room."

I wanted to die right then and there. "Dear Lord. I am so, so very sorry ladies! I-I...Dear God."

"Its no problem!" Came a friendly voice. "We all know you've been ill."

"That's no excuse," I whined.

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