Later that evening

"Ah, yes," Douglas said with a pleased sigh. "My deductive prowess strikes again." He loomed over Martin's bedside, the captain weakened from his previous odd jobs. Douglas checked the thermometer he had placed under Martin's tongue. "It's a low-grade fever, but I think it's best if Arthur and I keep an eye on you."

"Would it bother you to just leave me alone?" Martin asked, his voice muffled as he buried his face into his pillow.

"If that's the case, I can always phone Carolyn right now and see what she can do," Douglas said, a smug, self-satisfied smile playing on his lips. "You can make the decision right now, Martin," his voice became firmer. "I'm a father, remember, and not only that, I was once a captain for over thirteen years. So don't think I won't wield this as some unspoken privilege if it means somehow bringing down that fever."

"Please don't call Carolyn," Martin pleaded, his voice a mixture of desperation and shame. He struggled to sit upright in bed; his muscles still ached and were tense from overexertion. "I couldn't imagine what her bedside manner is like."

"Well, Skip, her bedside manner can be a bit... challenging. It's like having a stern mum who's also your boss," Arthur exclaimed to his bedridden captain. "But hey, she does mean well, I think . And you know, Douglas here will keep her in line if she starts bossing you around too much."

"So pretty much what happens on a day to day basis." Martin says, his voice tinged with anger.

"Exactly," Arthur agree with a smile. "nothing you aren't normally used to."

"I'd much prefer neither," Martin declares, his decision resolute. "I don't want either of you helping me."

"You should have thought about that before you overworked yourself," Douglas says, his voice sounding inquisitive. "I told you before that something like this would happen. I'd take this as a wake-up call."

"It won't happen again, Douglas; just let me sleep it off." Martin said warily, his voice tinged with exhaustion. Laying back down, he pulled the covers tightly around himself, hoping his first officer would eventually drop the subject.

Douglas was busy rummaging through his luggage searching for a bottle of paracetamol while Martin was lying in bed, looking visibly unwell. Douglas finally located the bottle and turned toward Martin.

"Martin, I found some paracetamol. It might help with your fever and aches," Douglas said, concern evident in his voice as he approached Martin's bedside.

Martin slowly sat up, accepting the offered medication and a glass of water from Douglas. He felt grateful for his first officer's assistance, even if he was still a bit stubborn about it.


Long after Arthur and Martin had drifted off to sleep, Douglas found it difficult to rest. His thoughts continually circled back to Martin, leaving him restless and unsettled. Despite his attempts to distract himself with other subjects, an instinctual feeling persisted, a gut sense that something was amiss. Martin's low-grade fever troubled him, and he couldn't simply ignore it.

In the dimly lit hotel room, Douglas's eyes occasionally shifted between Martin's slumbering form and the telephone provided by the hotel. He pondered whether it was worth bothering Carolyn to inform her of Martin's low-grade fever during the night. Alternatively, should he wake Martin to check his temperature once more, ensuring his fever hadn't spiked? Or perhaps he should trust that Martin's fever would break without any further intervention?

Sitting upright in his bed, he continued to keep a watchful eye on Martin, who was sleeping soundly beside Carolyn's adult son, Arthur. As he acknowledged his paternal instincts, he couldn't help but think of Martin and Arthur as his own 'children' in a sense. Though Martin and Arthur were very close in age, they could easily pass for brothers.

Both of them had never failed to lean on the first officer at the first sign of trouble. He was well-versed in handling problems, employing strategies, and possessing a perceptiveness that had saved MJN Air countless times in the past. However, it seemed that this time was different. Martin was endangering his own well-being, and despite the warning signs his body was sending him, his captain was determined to push his mind and body to the brink of a breakdown.

With a heavy sigh, he resolved to check on Martin one last time before heading off to bed, hoping it would ease his restless mind. He quietly rose from his bed and approached Martin's sleeping form. Placing a hand on Martin's forehead, he felt the warmth of his skin. The fever hadn't worsened... yet, but Douglas remained concerned.

Standing in the dim room, he acknowledged a truth he hadn't expected: Martin's well-being had become more important to him than he had ever imagined. It troubled and surprised him, leaving him to ponder just how far he would go to ensure Martin's safety and health.