They didn't make that appointment to learn the baby's gender. Neither of them felt like getting out of bed the next day, much less walking further than their front door. Since Rogue had drawn up some emergency fund Sting didn't know about to restock their fridge for the pie, neither saw any need to leave the house, and spent the next two days recuperating and assuring Alex that they would be there forever. Even the essential task of asking Wendy to treating Sting's injuries was delegated to Lector and Frosch, who had to convince her to come to their apartment to do so.
It was only Sting's injuries she looked at. Rogue, insisting that he couldn't impose on her any more than they already did, declined to have his burns healed or even examined.
It wasn't like Wendy ever expected anything in return for healing a guild mate, so Sting wished he'd accepted her offer. He spent the whole day watching Rogue work, flinching occasionally when he did something to irritate one of his wounds, but refusing to take a break. Someone had to put the dishes back in their cabinet, and he was happy to be that someone if it meant Sting not having to overwork himself. Sting would have thrown a fit over being excluded from tasks again, had Alex not found an old chalk set and kept him busy with her floor drawings.
Rogue was still washing those off by the time Sting and Alex went to bed, and he didn't see when Rogue came in to pass out for the night. It seemed to him that, despite the burns, Rogue was still in better shape to handle things than he was. At least until he woke up at three in the morning to Alex's screaming.
"How long has that been going on?" Sting asked, to which he got no response.
"Rogue? Hey?"
He shook the shadow slayer, and still received no response.
That was unnerving. Between the child's shrieks from across the hall and Sting's not so gentle shaking, Rogue ought to at least stir. Sting but a hand up against Rogue's mouth to make sure he was still breathing, and felt air come out. Hot air. The hand flew up to his forehead, which was much too warm.
His immediate instinct, since Rogue was right there, was to address the situation with Rogue first, but whatever Alex wanted would be less complex and time consuming than nursing a sick person back to health. He dragged himself out of bed and went across the hall to check on Alex, who turned out to have wet herself. He changed her, wiped her down, and put her back to bed, then returned to Rogue.
Sting wracked his brain to try and remember what it was that Rogue did when he was sick. Homemade chicken and rice soup. Pills to keep fever down. A reprieve from housework. Sting couldn't manage the first, and store bought soup wasn't an option when he didn't know where Rogue kept the rainy day fund, as were the pills. But managing the house—with the exception of cooking—was something he thought he could handle.
-o-
Rogue slept through the morning, so Sting kept himself busy. He pulled leftovers from the fridge for breakfast and played with Alex afterward, helping her sort her toys by which stuffed animals were good and which were evil. Being unable to recognize the telltale signs of goodness and sin, he couldn't do much beyond place them wherever she instructed, but it pleased her that her daddy was helping with this important task.
Once Alex fell asleep, he took to cleaning. He might not have been able to use the kitchen as anything more than a storage unit, but he could make that storage unit sparkle. Lector helped too, picking up the little messes Frosch left everywhere as she dedicated herself to getting the house tidied up for Rogue.
They did leftovers for lunch too, and it was mid-afternoon by the time Rogue finally got up. Sting hadn't heard him at all, but he turned around while carrying freshly washed dishes and saw the shadow slayer there.
"Hey. How are you feeling?"
"Fine. Where's—"
"Really? Because you look like shit."
Glaring, Rogue said, "I have a headache and my throat is dry. Where's your back brace?"
Sting pointed to the kitchen table. "I only took it off for a minute. It's hard to reach up high with it on. And it itches."
"Get clothes that cover your stomach and you won't have to feel it on your skin." Rogue coughed. "Here. Let me handle that."
"Ew. No. You just coughed into your hand. You don't get to handle the clean dishes."
"I can wash my hands."
"You'll cough on them again."
"How much of an issue will that be when someone needs to cook?" Rogue asked.
Sting paused, considering that one. He couldn't afford to buy anything premade, he couldn't cook, and he certainly couldn't ask Natsu to come over and cook for them. The absolute last thing he ever wanted to do was ask Natsu to help him with nursing Rogue back to health.
"I can make dinner," Lector offered. "I can follow a recipe without burning the house down."
"Problem solved," Sting declared. "No cooking. Go back to bed. You're sick."
Rogue coughed again, this time so hard that phlegm came out and landed on his hand, to which he grimaced in disgust. This didn't stop him from saying, "I'm fine."
"And I have a great physique and no back problems," Sting said. "Wash that off and get back to bed. Let me take care of things for once."
"You shouldn't be up, Sting. Especially moving around like that. The baby is enough of a strain on your body without you doing anything to aggravate your injuries."
"And you shouldn't be up either. Because you have a fever. I know you have a fever. Let me do this, and take it easy so you can recover faster and I won't have to do this for you anymore."
Rogue wiped his hand off on his pants and tried to grab the plate from Sting's hand.
Sting snatched it back. "You worked in the Fairy Tail bar the whole time you were pregnant. I think I can survive a few days of dish duty."
He dropped the bowl back in the sink, washed it, and set it in its proper place in the cupboard, only to turn around and see Rogue washing the next dish.
"Give me that."
"Rest."
"You rest. You have a fever."
"And you have a spinal injury and a damaged knee. You shouldn't be up and about like this. Especially without your braces on."
"Why do you always insist on doing everything! I'm not an invalid!"
"I don't want you to become one!" Rogue snapped. "I don't want you to let your injuries get so bad that they can't be healed! And it's my fault you're hurt, so—"
He broke off into a coughing fit.
Sting took advantage of this to push Rogue away before returning to the dishes.
"It's not your fault," he said when Rogue was done coughing. "I chose to run out there and get hit. Now I'm choosing to take care of you for a few days while you get over your cold. And you can't stop me."
That was a lie. He was out of shape, and Rogue could easily drag him back to bed and strap him down. And it hadn't been a choice to injure himself. Not really. The only other option was to let Rogue be hurt, and Sting didn't consider that an option at all. He hoped Rogue wasn't full enough of himself to realized that.
Luckily for his lie, Rogue didn't seem to care enough to focus on it. Unluckily for Sting, Rogue was instead focused on how to minimize his workload.
"Fine. Do the dishes. I can handle the rest of the cleaning while you handle things here."
-o-
Two days later, Lector turned up at the guild, looking for anyone who might be willing to follow him home and lend a hand.
Erza was there at the time. Lector coming on his own meant that not only was Sting not able to come, but Rogue wasn't able to leave Sting in Lector's care and show up either. And if neither of them were able to make it, then who was looking after Alex? Not knowing what she would find at their apartment, she handed Kiseki off to Bisca before ordering Lector to lead her to the twin slayers at once.
To her relief, Alex was calm when they arrived. She and Frosch were in the living room, playing with her stuffed animals. Whatever Alex said the various dolls were, be it a horse, a prince, the queen, Mommy, or all four at once, Frosch seemed to truly believe her. The frog-cat probably made for a better playmate than Kiseki, she realized with a grin. Her little boy was only interested in playing knight.
That grin faltered when she realized she saw neither Rogue nor Sting watching over her. She knew they might let the cats babysit Alex, when one was working and the other needed a rest, but even then, whoever stayed home with her usually stayed in the area to supervise.
Alex saw her, smiled, and then cocked her head in confusion when Erza didn't smile back.
"Sis?"
Erza forced a smile. "Hey, sweetie. Where's your mommy and daddy?"
"Bed. Mommy's sleepy. He went to sleep in the hall and Daddy said he had to go to bed. But now Daddy's in bed too."
Both bedridden then? She could guess why Sting might not be able to get up, but how did Rogue…? She didn't remember his injuries being that bad.
"I'm going to go wake them."
"Okay. Ask Mommy for cookies."
Erza gave the kitchen counter a cursory glance, but saw no cookies. "I'll see if he can make some. I'll buy you some if he can't."
She would smack anyone who promised Kiseki treats whenever he asked, but she had a sinking feeling that Alex would soon be in need of distraction, and sweets were always a good start when it came to that.
Going into Sting and Rogue's room, Erza feared the worst. Her immediate thought when she threw the door open was that she was relieved to see the two still breathing. Then she looked closely and saw that Rogue's breathing looked strained. Surely Sting wouldn't sleep so peacefully if Rogue were in trouble. Did he not realize?
"Sting? Rogue? Get up."
Rogue mumbled something, opened his eyes, then shut them again. Sting was more responsive, pushing himself up slightly, but wincing as he did.
"Where's your back brace?" Erza asked, reaching out and offering Sting a hand.
He took her hand, letting her pull him into a sitting position and cringing all the while. The ordeal made him lose his breath, and he didn't answer her until he'd caught it.
"No idea."
"Why don't you have it on?"
"It isn't comfortable."
"So you're comfortable now."
He glared at her.
"Lector came to me for help," Erza said, rather than continue to harass an injured pregnant person who already knew they'd made a terrible mistake. "I assume he wants me to take you to the hospital."
Sting shook his head. "Rogue first."
"But—"
"Rogue first. I'd have dragged him there myself if I could stand."
Erza scowled at this, and looked to Rogue again. Now that she was right beside their bed, she could clearly see that his cheeks were flushed, and there was a faint sheen of sweat.
Fever. He hadn't done anything to stop his wounds from being infected, and now he had a fever. Had Sting further injured himself trying to take care of Rogue, or had Rogue failed to take care of himself because he was so busy tending to Sting? Both? It didn't matter. Neither of them could take care of one another now.
"Lector, keep a watch over Alex," Erza commanded. "Sting, stay put. I'll get Rogue to the hospital and then come back for you."
"Wendy isn't here?"
"Visiting Chelia. She'll be back tomorrow. Would you rather I take you to the guild infirmary?"
She wasn't surprised to see him shake his head. That would put him too far away from Rogue.
"Alright." Scooping Rogue up and holding him princess style, she said, "I'll be back for you soon. Whatever idiocy you two did, next time, call one of us for help before it gets to be this bad."