He’s avoided me before but he’s always come down at some point to eat something. Plus he has no reason to avoid me right now.
Maybe he’s just tired. Or maybe he has company.
I’m not sure why but the latter annoys me and sends a spasm of pain through my chest.
Another hour passes and now I’m really worried. I’ve checked the fridge and nothing is missing. His breakfast went untouched, along with his lunch and his dinner.
Decision made.
I’m going up there.
Why am I so scared? It’s like that point in a scary movie when they’re facing the attic, knowing they have to go up there but really not wanting to. If that was me I’d probably poop a little.
I stand at the door at the far end of the long hall that leads to Nathan’s space. My hand trembles as I grip the handle, my body tensing as if ready for an alarm to start blaring. It opens without issue or dramatics.
Phew. No ninjas then.
“Nathan?” I call out and flick on the light, showing a steep and narrow staircase, carpeted in soft deep blue. The walls match. “Nathan?” I call louder and, with one hand on the railing, I ascend. “Hello?”
Nothing.
Shit.
When I reach the top I see three doors. One of them is open, showing the inside of a closet, full of old boxes. I’m assuming they’re files so I leave that and play eeny-meeny between the other two.
“Nathan?” I knock on door number one and then door number two. No response. Darn.
Door number one opens without sound. I push it only six inches or so and peek into the room. It’s dark and large but I can make out a huge four poster bed. There’s also a large lump in the middle.
I open the door further and almost gag at the scent of bleach. You never get used to it. No matter who says you do, they’re lying.
Wow, it’s freakishly tidy in here.
“Nathan?” I say, staring at the unmoving body shape on the bed hidden under deep blue blankets. My heart starts hammering. This isn’t happening again.
Caleb was a one off. Nobody would be this unlucky.
But what if it’s hereditary?
My nose starts to tingle as tears pool in my eyes, feelings so fresh come back to memory. I almost don’t go to Nathan out of fear but I can’t leave him.
I silently pad towards him, sniffing the air for any sign of that sickly sweet smell that seemed to suffocate me when I woke up next to Caleb. The bleach is too prominent; there’s no room for another scent.
“Nathan?” I almost sob, but I hold it back and reach for the top of the blanket with a shaking hand. Imagining myself pulling it back, all I can see is a lifeless form. I’m so scared. I don’t want to do this. “Nathan!”
I wrap my fingers around the edge of the blanket and, like a plaster, I rip it back over his head and to his naked shoulders.
Oh thank god. I’ve never felt such relief before.
He’s lying on his stomach, the side of his face squashed into the mattress, his lips partly open but glistening with recent moisture from his tongue and quivering with each breath. One of his hands grips the mattress above his tousled locks that seem to have no clear direction in mind.
“Nathan,” I repeat and gently place my hand on the back of his shoulder. He lets out a low moan and burrows into the bed further, sniffing a not too pleasant sniff through his nose. My hand jolts back from his hot and clammy skin and my body does the same.
The last time this happened… no I can’t go back there. I just need to… shit.
“Nathan?” I roll the blanket further down his back and sit on the side of the bed.
He opens the only eye available and tries to lift his head. “Gwen?”
“I’ve been worried. You’re burning up.” I say this quietly and cautiously, hoping he doesn’t get angry for my being here. “What’s wrong?”
He coughs and it sounds like it rattles in his chest on its way up. “Flu.”
“You promise?” I brush the hair away from his sweaty forehead. “Swear it.”
He rolls onto his side, moaning pitifully. “I swear.”
“Okay, I’m going to get medicine.”
“Okay,” he mumbles and closes his eyes once more.
I don’t waste time. I reach the kitchen as fast as my legs can carry me and start rummaging through the medicine box. I find the usual pain killers and nasal sprays, so I round those up with a bottle of lukewarm water. My hands tremble the entire time I’m rushing around.
Honestly… I’m terrified.
Who can blame me?
He’s still in the same position when I get back upstairs, curled up on his side, snivelling through his blocked nose.
“Hey,” I say softly and switch on the lamp by his bed. He moans loudly and buries his head under his quilt. “Baby.”
“What do you want?”
“I’ve got you medicine and water and some of those weird cracker things that you like.”
“Not hungry,” he grumbles, sounding childlike and actually kind of cute.
“You can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach,” I say firmly, letting him know there’s no room for argument. I’m not taking any chances. “Please.”
“Ugh,” he says and sits up slowly. I fluff his pillows behind him and hand him a packet of tissues.
“You shouldn’t be near me; you’ll get ill,” he says, his eyes heavy and hooded. Dark rings beneath them make him look as ill as he probably feels. “The baby.”
I shake my head. “I had a flu shot a few weeks ago. They give them out like leaflets when you’re pregnant.” I hand him the packet of crackers and hold a napkin under his chin while he eats to catch the crumbs.
“I don’t want to eat anymore,” he states after having only two bites. “My throat hurts.”
“Stop being such a guy.” I smile softly and move the crackers back to the tray. “Here.” I pop two pills into his hand, almost sighing when I see the gloves. He doesn’t even take them off to sleep. That’s just weird.
After watching him swallow them, he lies back down and tries to pull the blanket over his head. “Go back downstairs.”
“One more thing.” I wave the long and thin digital thermometer at him with a smirk.
He blanches. “Not a fucking chance.”
Snort. “Relax, it’s for under your arm.”
“That’s the baby thermometer.”
“I’m sure he won’t mind.” I go to touch his arm and he flinches away. Right, the hand thing, but he didn’t flinch away when I brushed his hair from his forehead. How strange. I somehow manage to wriggle it into the crease where his arm is pressed to his chest. After a few moments it beeps frequently.
Forty one…. FORTY ONE!
“Where are you going?” Nathan calls as I grab the tray and rush from the room.
I have to bring his fever down. This is all too familiar, all too close to home.
“What now?” Nathan sighs, his N sounding more like a D. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Are you naked?” I ask and pull the blanket down his back.
“Why? Do you want me to be?” He attempts to smile but it looks more like a grimace.