Day 3 – "What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?"

Tully wasn't one to brag about anything. He did point out from time to time how it seemed like everyone else in the group got sick, while he remained unscathed. Not one cough or sneeze. If anything was going to go haywire when the Rats and Dietrich got together for a skiing trip in the Rocky Mountains, no one expected the problem to come from Tully. Surely, it would be Moffitt or Hitch. Even Troy and Dietrich were more likely to have things go wrong.

The first unpleasant sensation Tully felt upon waking up the second morning the group was in the rental cabin was a pounding feeling in his head. He felt like he was trying to swallow the world's spiniest cactus and chasing it with sand. His attempt at sitting up ended in failure, as dizziness smashed into him like a speeding jeep, sending him back down to the pillow.

This wasn't part of anyone's itinerary.

Heat pulsed intensely through Tully's body. He found himself wanting to run outside in the snow when he managed to turn his head and look out the window. The sky was dull and gray, but the stark white of the freshly fallen snow made it far brighter than it actually was, and he knew it was cold. He wanted something cold. Anything cold.

He didn't turn when someone knocked on the door, and heard Troy say, "Tully? You still sleeping?"

The cactus was stuck in his throat. Tully couldn't respond.

The door flew open, and Troy stormed in. "Tully, everyone's downstairs and wait—oh." Troy's expression went from one of frustration to one of concern. "You look awful."

"What is taking him so long?" Dietrich was next to enter the room. His shock at Tully's condition was a bit more subdued. "Oh, dear. He does look quite awful."

Thanks for pointing out the obvious, guys, Tully thought. He made a gesture to his throat, and shook his head, trying to convey that he couldn't talk.

"What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?" Troy asked. "I can't remember the last time I ever saw you sick."

Dietrich touched Tully's forehead. "He is definitely burning up with fever. You all can go on the trip today. I will stay with Tully."

"No," Troy said. "If one man is down, we all stay and take care of him. I'll go tell everyone."

Dietrich watched Troy leave before looking down at the bedridden Tully with an expression of sympathy. "I apologize for this," Dietrich said.

Tully wanted to tell the skinny German that he had nothing to apologize for, but the cactus wedged in his throat refused to let him talk. Instead, all that came out was a raspy moan.

"Try not to strain yourself. Just rest." Dietrich sat on the edge of the bed, looking out at the snowy panorama. He then turned to Tully, a serious look on his face. "Just nod or shake your head when I ask you something. Does your head hurt?"

Tully nodded. It hurt worse than the time he went looking for frogs with his cousins behind his grandparents' house as a kid, and mistakenly dove into a shallow part of the pond, hitting his head on the muddy bottom.

"Does your throat hurt?"

Another nod. I want this damn cactus out.

"Your chest?"

Tully drew in a breath. Both lungs ached and struggled a bit, then he suddenly broke into a coughing fit.

"I will take that as a 'yes,'" Dietrich said. "Does your stomach hurt?"

Tully shook his head, though he didn't want to try eating anything. He doubted anything could pass that cactus.

"I think it is safe to assume you have a respiratory infection of some kind."

Yep. I came to that conclusion, too. Tully was normally a quiet person, but being completely unable to talk was a bit frustrating.

Troy eventually returned with Hitch and Moffitt in tow.

"Well, this is definitely a surprise," Moffitt said.

"That's what I was thinking," Troy replied.

"Now what?" Hitch asked. "No ski trip?"

"Nope. Our job now is to take care of Tully."

"Troy, he is not a child," Dietrich said.

"I'm not saying we're going to spoon-feed him or give him a sponge bath or anything like that. Just keep him company and give him what he needs."

"Troy," Dietrich grinned a little, "everyone here knows how much of a mother hen you are."

"I am not a mother hen. You're only saying that because you are the world's worst patient."

"I am not a bad patient! You were overreacting to me having a damn stomachache of all things last winter—"

"That was not a run-of-the-mill stomachache! You had the flu!"

"Alright, alright, that's enough!" Moffitt stepped in between them. "Tully. Focus on Tully."

Oh, this is going to be fun, Tully thought. Being unable to talk meant he wouldn't be able to argue about anything. Coughing made the cactus sensation in his throat worse. He kept trying to sit up. Dietrich assisted, and placed a pillow behind Tully's head.

"I take it no one has any cold medicine on them?" Dietrich asked.

"I'll go out and buy some," Hitch said. "What else should we do?"

Moffitt's eyes lit up, and Troy sighed heavily before he said, "Alright, Moffitt, you can go brew up some tea."

"I know just the tea to make!" Moffitt said, excitedly.

"You just happened to bring it with you on this trip?"

"I always bring a wide variety of tea, just in case we're stuck somewhere with shoddy tea. Like your house for instance."

Troy gave him a look, but didn't pursue an argument. "Fine. Make your tea. I'm going to find a can of chicken soup."

"What should I do?" Dietrich asked.

"You can keep Tully company until we get back."

"Alright, fair enough." Dietrich paced around the room after the others left, then muttered, "This is certainly not a good start to the day. You being sick, I mean, and I know that is not your fault." He sat on the bed. "My aunt would give me warm custard whenever I was sick with a sore throat."

An idea struck Tully. He still couldn't talk, so he started miming writing something with his hands. Dietrich started looking around the room, and found a pen with a small notepad. He handed the notepad to Tully, who wrote down two words: "Jell-O Pudding."

"This is what you want?" Dietrich asked.

Tully nodded.

"Any preference?"

Tully took the notepad back, writing down, "Chocolate."

"Alright. So, I am on a mission to obtain… chocolate pudding." Dietrich stood. "I will be back."

Dietrich left, and Moffitt entered the room a few minutes later with a steaming cup of tea. "Elderberry," he said. "My mother swore by this whenever my brother and I were sick."

As long as it soothed his throat, Tully didn't care what kind of tea it was. He was gentle with the cup, and took small sips. The hot, fruity liquid was indeed soothing, and the cactus sensation finally began to fade. Tully's voice was raspy when he managed to say, "Thanks, Moffitt."

"No problem. Good to hear you talking, but don't overdo it." Moffitt looked around the room. "Say… where's Dietrich?"

"I asked him to get chocolate pudding—the Jell-O stuff."

"You're usually the one who makes comfort food for the rest of us. Now, it's the other way around." Moffitt offered a slight smile. "Consider it returning the favor."

"Nah," Tully said. "None of you owe me anything. I don't expect anything in return when I give you stuff."

"You're sick. We'll spoil you."

"I don't want to be spoiled. I want to get well fast so we can actually enjoy our trip. We planned this for over a month, and now I'm ruining it."

"It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself. It won't help your recovery."

Tully was tempted to ask if Moffitt frequently blaming himself for everything was why it always took him so long to recover from illnesses, but he figured that wouldn't be a very nice thing to say.

Hitch was the next to return with an enormous bottle of cold medicine, a jar of honey, and a big spoon. "The pharmacist told me this stuff tastes really bad, so he recommended taking honey with it."

"That's fine," Tully said. "Moffitt just brought tea."

"Hey, I don't care what Sarge says, tea works wonders when you're sick."

"Can't argue with that, and this is really good tea." Tully looked back at Moffitt. "You'll have to send me a box."

"I have several, so that won't be a problem," Moffitt replied.

Tully set the tea aside so he could take the medicine that Hitch brought. He highly doubted that medicine would taste any worse than any of the medicines he would have to take as a kid. The stuff did indeed taste terrible, and yet it brought him back to when his mother had to pin him down just to get the spoon of medicine in his mouth. Fortunately, as soon as Tully swallowed the dose, Hitch handed him a spoon with honey in it.

"Thanks," Tully said. He gave the spoon back to Hitch, and took the tea back from Moffitt. "Didn't take much to start feeling better."

"You should still stay in bed," Moffitt said. "We could help you downstairs to the couch if you—"

All three looked toward the door when they heard Dietrich growling, "Troy, you are making canned soup! It has instructions! How did you burn this?!"

"I don't know!" Troy shouted back.

"The stove does not need to be cranked up that high! Are you trying to burn this cabin down?!"

Moffitt let out a heavy sigh before looking at Tully. "Perhaps we can stay up here and play cards."

"Seconded," Hitch said.

"Yeah, I'm good with that," Tully replied.

It was quiet for another minute or two while the three started a game, then Troy was heard saying, "I think I turned this into a stew. It tastes pretty good actually."

"Troy," Dietrich said, "that is not what the end result is supposed to be! You are not serving that to Tully!"

"On second thought," Moffitt said, standing up, "I'm going to go make sure Troy and Dietrich can be civil to each other. I'll be right back."

"Have fun," Tully replied.

Hitch kept chewing his gum while listening to Moffitt trying to keep Troy and Dietrich in line. He then looked at Tully. "Okay, we knew something like this was going to happen on this trip."

"Yep," Tully said. "But none of you expected me getting sick, did you?"

"Nope. Not a chance."