It feels strange that they're celebrating Christmas now, seeing as it's June for us, but I needed to get the timeline going for...secret reasons.
But I'm just gonna say that I think you'll be glad it's not your Christmas too because- well, Merder Christmas doesn't go overly well.
Enjoy? :)
"Pancakes." She muttered to herself as she looked at the stove. There was no mixer, no bowl, no flour on the counter (as amazing as he was at cooking, he had a thing about getting flour everywhere) and no empty egg shells on the side, ready to be thrown in the bin. "Where are the pancakes?"
She stared at the uncluttered space for another moment, pondering where her pancakes were - and, probably more importantly, pondering where Derek was - before heading to the bedroom, seeing as that was the only place he could be.
Living in a house with what seemed like endless rooms, she loved that Derek lived in a small bungalow, because she didn't have to run from room to room for a few minutes just to locate someone.
She paused in the doorway when she did find him, however.
Derek was still in bed.
"Hey, are you okay?"
He didn't reply.
"Derek, we've got work in half an hour so you-" She paused when a string of painful-sounding coughs cut her off. "Oh...oh my god."
"No-" He rasped as she dropped down onto her knees next to his side of the bed instantly.
"What? What does no mean?"
"I'm fine-" He breathed. "I'm not dying, you don't need to take me to the hospital."
"You sound really ill, Derek."
"People can be ill without dying- without needing any hospital care at all."
"You're a little hot-" She sighed. "I'll take your actual temperature in a minute, but you might be running a fever."
"And that's fine- a fever is fine, a cough is fine-" He insisted. "I know what you're going to say."
"What am going to say?"
He watched her as she walked round the bed, getting on on her side. "I'm a T10 paraplegic. I lack control over my lower abdominal muscles-"
"-which means it is much more likely for you to fail to get out whatever you've got in you that is making you sick via coughing, and that you're going to end up with pneumonia or bronchitis because of it." She finished for him, too impatient to wait for him. "It means that, yes, it's true that people have coughs and fevers without dying or going to hospital, but pneumonia is one of the leading causes of death for people with SCIs, and your complication and mortality rate from a cold is through the roof compared to someone who does not have an SCI and has a working, existing spleen and therefore a working, existing immune system."
He swallowed. She was right, and those facts terrified him too.
"Now, I'm going to sit you up with some pillows so it will help you breathe better, get you some water, and then go and either locate some cough syrup, or go to the corner shop and buy some, okay?"
He nodded. "Okay."
"I found...a reindeer template in the box-"
He smiled as he took the small toy from her. "It's adorable."
"Hoping it would cheer you up." She said as she sat on the side of the bed. He'd taken a rather patient-like position in the bed, with his covers over him but his arms free to hold the book he had been reading before she interrupted him. He was also lying on a stack of pillows that Meredith had set up carefully in the hope that his cough would clear quicker.
"I'm okay. I don't need any cheering up. Obviously I'm feeling a little rubbish, but it's okay."
"How was your soup?"
"It was good. And it was warm."
"I know how to use a microwave. That's...just about it though. But I can turn the thingmabob, and I can press the button to open it, and that's all you need."
"And you didn't put any metal in there." He added.
"Well-" She paused, and her cheeks turned a little red.
"Meredith-" He sighed.
"I remembered though. I took it out. Turns out you can actually put metal in a microwave though, just only certain kinds but...I don't think the one I almost cooked would have done anything."
"I've heard about that too but maybe let's not do home experiments?"
She smiled. "Mmm. Good idea. Now- yesterday I remember you-" She paused as he choked, covering his mouth. "Okay?"
"Mmm- it's okay-" He muttered, although his breathing was now an awful lot of stuffier than it was a second ago. He removed his hand from his mouth and passed the small toy from one hand to the other, and left his right out for her to hold. She latched onto it within a short second. "Just...gross stuff in my throat- lungs, whatever."
"It's actually known as mucus." She said with a cheeky smile.
"I'm tired and dying of the common cold, don't do that to me Meredith."
"And I've decided that you have bronchitis, actually, not the common cold." She joked.
"What did I just say?" He asked with a pout.
She squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry. I'll stop teasing you now. Do you need to rest? How tired are you? Did you sleep today?"
"I'm fine. And I did sleep, and I was going to say that I wasn't going to fall back to sleep, but I have Rudolph to help me fall asleep now." He said as he placed the creature on his stomach and smiled at it.
She smiled back. "Okay. Now, I'm going to go and make another one- uh- oh-"
"What?" He asked. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know any reindeers other than Rudolph." She admitted after a moment.
"Dasher, and Dancer, and Prancer, and-" He prompted. He didn't, however sing the names at the correct pitches to the song. He didn't have throat to try if he wanted to, although he didn't really want to so he didn't at all mind.
"Uh- Prasher?"
He grinned as he repeated, "Prasher?"
"I don't know-" She giggled. "It just sounds like you're saying the same word with a few letters different each time so I thought I'd try my luck and guess. From your face, I'm guessing that's not one."
"Mmm. And you'd be right there." He agreed. "Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen were the names I was looking for. Or just one of them, maybe, would have been good."
"Right. Well, I guess I'll go make Cupid then."
"Why Cupid?"
"Because- believe it or not, I do know at least the tiniest bit about Valentine's day, and that means I want to make you Cupid. I love you, Cupid is the god or whatever of love so...you know, I want to make him...or her or- whatever Cupid is as a present for you. You get me even if I don't quite understand what I'm saying."
He smiled. "I know. I get you and your funny brain Mer, don't worry."
"Who are these two?"
Meredith looked up. She didn't even notice him. "Hey. How are you feeling?"
"Still pretty stuffy, but good otherwise." He said with a brief smile. "Lots of mucus with my bronchitis."
She smirked at him. "We're making jokes, we must be feeling better."
"Yeah, I-" He paused before breaking into another short fit of coughs. She could hear how much it hurt.
"Derek-"
"Stop. Worrying." He begged once he had finished, and swallowed a number of time in an attempt to get his ability to speak back. "You're going to explode one of these days."
"Explode?"
"You worry about me too much. It's not good."
"You worry about me too much." She returned. "Actually, I can't think of a single thing that you don't overthink, at least I only worry about one thing."
"Overprotective-girlfriend disease is very serious."
She smiled. "So is overprotective-boyfriend disease-"
"But-" He tried to interrupt.
"Especially in conjunction with generalised anxiety disorder."
"Hey-" He chuckled. "You can't throw my diagnoses at me like that."
"Stop telling me I have overprotective-girlfriend disease then!"
He sighed. "Fine. With a catch-"
"Right..."
He smiled as he picked up the wool beside her. "Show me the reindeer pattern."