24-Hour Cold - (24 Parts)

[W.I.N.]

Part XVI

21:00-22:00

Chloe emerged from the shower feeling like a new woman. She had turned on the water until it was so hot she felt as though she was boiling herself alive, and had stood under the steaming jet for as long as she could stand it before bringing the water to a more tolerable temperature. She stood dripping on the bath mat for a few moments, revelling in her newfound cleanliness, then dried off, pulled on the pajamas she’d bought, wrapped herself in one of the terrycloth robes.

She found Jack at the desk provided by the hotel, her laptop open, accessing the hotel’s wireless internet, tapping away at the keys. As savvy as Jack was with most things, she was always amused by the fact that he still typed with two fingers, hunt-and-peck style. He paused in mid-search for a letter, interrupted by a fit of painful-sounding coughing.

“Feel free to use my computer,” she said drily.

He looked over his shoulder guiltily, and she almost laughed, except for her annoyance at having her stuff messed with. She knew it was irrational, but she didn’t like other people touching her things, ever, even with her permission.

“Uh, sorry about that. I thought I would try looking up some of the people who’ve been after me.”

“Right. You’re just trying to get out of that dye job, admit it.”

Jack’s face went slack, and Chloe bit back a sigh of exasperation as his head tilted back and his breath began to hitch. “Huh... huh...”

“You’re not getting out of this that easily. Sneeze all you want, we’re still changing your hair.”

“HUH-ESHOO! ISHOO! Sniff! HUESHOO!” He sniffled, then coughed harshly into his fist.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone sneeze quite as much as you have been all day. I think you may have sneezed more today than everyone else I know combined.”

“ESCHAH!” Jack’s head snapped forward with another sneeze. He groaned softly. “You don’t have to tell me. I’ve been here too, remember?”

“Quit stalling,” she said, not unkindly. “The sooner you let me do this, the sooner it’ll be over. It’ll only take a few minutes, tops.”

“Fine.”

If nothing else, Chloe was never guilty of underestimating her abilities. A few passes with the clippers, and a deft application of hair dye later (she ignored his grumbling about having to bend over the sink), and Jack was a new man. Or, well, the same man except with darker hair. The process might have been even quicker, except for the fact that she kept getting interrupted by his sneezing. She was trying to wrap a towel around his newly-dyed hair when he held up a hand in warning.

“Sniff! Huh... g-gonna sneeze!” Fully used to the signs by now, she had already stepped back out of the way as he first straightened, then turned away, lifting his arm to catch the sneezes in the crook of his elbow, bracing himself against the sink with his free hand. “Huh... HUESHOO! ESHOO! Huh... huh-huh-huh! HUH-ASHOO! HAH-ISHOO! HEH-ETCHOO! ESHOO! ESH! ESH! ESCHAH!”

“Gesundheit. Feel better?”

He sniffed and shook his head. “Not really.”

“Well, at least you look a bit better. Not less sick, to be honest, but you’re clean, and you don’t smells like a dumpster anymore.”

He chuckled, then dissolved into a fit of coughing, and she filled one of the glasses provided by the hotel with water and handed it to him. He drained it, then placed it upside-down on the sink next to the faucet.

“I’m going to go back to the computer, if that’s okay with you.”

She heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I’m glad I bought disinfectant wipes. You’ve probably got germs all over my keyboard. Anyway, you should put on a shirt or something: you’ll get cold the way you are, and then you’ll get even sicker.”

He didn’t answer, but obligingly grabbed one of the t-shirts she had bought him and pulled it over his head, wincing a bit as the movement pulled at his injury. Chloe sat on the sofa and turned on the television, catching the end of some sitcom or other. She glanced at Jack to make sure the sound wasn’t bothering him, but he didn’t appear to mind. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, then re-emerged wearing a clean pair of pants, and settled at the computer to work.

“You know,” she said, “you’d probably be better off resting. It’s not like you have to know who those people are right now.”

He shrugged, coughing into his clenched fist. “Maybe. I just want to do it while it’s still fresh in my mind.”

“Suit yourself.”

[Aprilcot]

Of course I'm still reading!!!

How could I not??

This thing is so annoyingly good it bugs me not knowing how Jack is being tortured!!!

Great chapter

Thank you!!!!!

[Tarkus]

"Anyway, you should put on a shirt or something: you’ll get cold the way you are, and then you’ll get even sicker.”

I wish...

Love how Chloe's taking care of Jack.

Your writing is as addicting as usual!

[W.I.N.]

Hello again, faithful readers!

Aprilcot: Are you referring to the fact that it's from Chloe's point of view? I've never heard anything described as "annoyingly good" before. I hope it's more good than annoying.

catmuffinz: Hope springs eternal, eh? Although I can't imagine how I could manage to make him sneeze more than he already is.

~W.I.N.

[W.I.N.]

Part XVII

22:00-23:00

Chloe flicked through a few of the channels, bypassing some of the ten o’clock news once she’d made sure the world hadn’t exploded while she wasn’t looking, and avoiding the sci-fi shows and sitcoms. Finally she settled on what looked like a halfway decent movie starring Donald Sutherland. It was halfway over, but it was a political thriller, and she generally liked those.

Still hunched over the laptop, Jack erupted into yet another sneezing fit, twisting aside and catching the sneezes in a tissue. “Sniff! Huh... huh... HUH-ESCHAH! ESHOO! ISHOO! Huh-huh HUESHOO! ISHOO!”

She glanced up, but he’d crumpled up the tissue, tossed it into a rapidly-filling wastebasket, and was tapping determinedly at the keys. Shrugging, she turned back to the television set, trying to figure out if the guy Donal Sutherland was talking to was a good guy or a bad guy, and ignoring Jack’s coughing as best she could. She knew him well enough not to fuss overmuch, even if she was worried —it would just make him prickly and defensive.

“Sniff! Huh... heh... sniff! Heeh!” She could see his head tilting back out of the corner of her eye, and braced herself for the resulting explosion. “Sniff! HESHOO! ISHOO! HUH-ISHOO! Huh... HUH-ESHOO!”

She curled up on the sofa, pulling her legs beneath her more comfortably. She’d missed whether the guy was good or bad, but it didn’t seem important to the overall plot. There was obviously some sort of assassination planned, and she increased the volume by a few levels, only to have the program cut to commercials.

“Huh... Oh God, not a-agai... huh! HUH-ESHOO! ESHOO! HAH-ISH!” Jack’s head snapped forward with the force of the sneezes.

Chloe sighed. “Why don’t you give it up? You haven’t been able to type anything for the past five minutes straight.”

“ISHOO!”

“Come on, Jack,” she wheedled. “The world won’t end if you take a break and watch a movie. This one looks pretty good.”

“F-fine... HUH-ESHOO!” He sneezed into the crook of his elbow as he pushed his chair back.

She grinned in spite of herself. “Jack Bauer listens to common sense. Where’s the media when you need them to broadcast a headline?”

“HAH-ISHOO! I could do w-with... huh... without the c-co... HUH-ESHOO! Comments from the peanut gallery,” Jack glared at her between sneezes.

“Sorry,” she said, though she knew she looked about as repentant as she felt.

He came over, leaving the laptop open on the desk, picked up the satchel he’d been carrying all day, and sat next to her on the sofa. With barely a glance at the television, he opened it and pulled out the paperwork she’d brought him.

“I suppose it was too much to ask that you not work at all,” she said resignedly. “I’m not turning off the TV, though.”

“ISHOO! That’s fine. This won’t take long. I’m just... HUH-ISHOO! Just taking a quick look.” He wrenched away from her with each sneeze.

“Gesundheit.” She turned her attention back to the movie. “You know, that guy kind of looks like you. Older, though.”

“Really?” Jack said absently, rifling through the papers. “I never really paid attention.” His face crumpled again. “HUH-ISHOO!”

“Maybe not,” Chloe eyed the screen critically. “But from certain angles he does.”

Jack’s breath was hitching again. “D-dammit!” He struggled with the growing sneeze. “I j-just want to s-stop sneezing for a minute... HISHOO! Dammit!” he swore again, although it looked to Chloe as though he wasn’t done.

She almost giggled at the look of helpless frustration on his face, then suddenly took pity on him. On an impulse she leaned forward and placed her finger under his nose, much as she had done that morning. He flinched, startled, then relaxed as the tickling in his nose receded.

“Your hands are soft,” he commented, sounding surprised.

“You’re welcome,” she pulled her hand back when she was sure the danger was past.

He grinned awkwardly, not quite meeting her eyes. “Thanks.” He glanced at the television, where the scene had devolved into chaos and bullets. “Why do you watch this stuff, anyway?”

“What?” she asked defensively. “What’s wrong with it?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know... I guess it feels too much like work.”

She turned back to the program, folding her arms over her chest. “Well, I like it.”

It was too late for her to make much sense of what was going on. Still, she tried to piece it all together. Common sense told her that the movie was going to last for at least another forty minutes or more, so there must be more to it than what she was seeing. She glared at the screen, as though it was somehow the television’s fault she hadn’t followed the plot. Eventually, she began to get the gist of the story —enough to relax and start to enjoy it. When the program cut to commercial —again— she glanced at Jack, only to find that he’d nodded off next to her, his head resting on his arm on the back of the sofa.

She shook him gently. “Jack, why don’t you go to bed?”

He stirred, then whipped his head to the side just in time to catch a sneeze in the crook of his elbow. “HUESHOO!”

“Gesundheit. I’m serious. Go to bed. You’re dead on your feet.”

He shook his head. “I was going to take the sofa.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re sick, and I still want to watch this. I’ll keep the sound down. Go on, and don’t be stubborn. Oh, and take some Nyquil.”

He sighed melodramatically. “I don’t think ‘stubborn’ could even begin to describe you properly. You’re like an immoveable object.”

“Says the unstoppable force. Go. To. Bed.”

He pushed himself tiredly off the sofa, obviously too exhausted to argue with her. He even shook two pills out of the packet of Nyquil she’d bought without needing to be prompted again, and she didn’t know whether to be relieved or even more worried. She pointedly turned back to the television, knowing how much he hated having his every movement watched (one reason he’d hated being in charge of CTU: all the walls were made of glass). By the time she looked up again from the movie, he’d crawled under the covers and was fast asleep.

[Turtle]

I'm grinning like a full-on idiot!

This is very sweet! Thanks for writing it!

[Aprilcot]

I second that comment!

This is soo cute!!!

I wasn't making a comment on who's point of veiw it was from...

I was saying it's so good, it's annoying I can't leave it alone...

Definately more good than annoying though...

[Tarkus]

"You know, that guy kind of looks like you. Older, though.”

It's cool how you put in the allusion to Kiefer's dad.

she glanced at Jack, only to find that he’d nodded off next to her, his head resting on his arm on the back of the sofa.

That's so cute! I bet Jack is adorable when he's sleeping!

Your story gets better every update!

[W.I.N.]

Turtle: Thanks! I think they're kinda sweet too, so I try to write it the way I see it. I like imagining what happens behind the scenes on 24, when they're not in the middle of a giant world-threatening crisis.

Aprilcot: I was just wondering, since if it was from Jack's point of view there would obviously be more details about the "how" he's being tortured. Unfortunately, the story came to me from Chloe's perspective, so that's how I wrote it. Maybe next time I'll try Jack's POV.

catmuffinz: I couldn't resist the allusion. I think Jack probably looks really cute when he's asleep too.

~W.I.N.

[W.I.N.]

Hi folks,

I'm sorry but I ran out of buffer this weekend, and I haven't had the time to finish writing the next parts. I promise I will have them written ASAP, and my apologies for the delay.

~W.I.N.

[W.I.N.]

Part XVIII

23:00-00:00

The movie ended in a series of explosions and gunshots, and then everyone lived happily ever after, the end. Chloe scrunched up her face at the TV screen. If only people lived happily ever after in real life. Instead they had to leave behind their lives, everyone they knew and loved, everything that was familiar and comforting, all so that normal people could go on living as though their lives weren’t in peril. It wasn’t fair. She got up from the sofa and stretched, feeling her vertebrae crack satisfyingly as she did so.

She pulled out the sofa as quietly as she could, wincing as the bed portion snapped loudly into place. She glanced over her shoulder, but Jack appeared to still be asleep, though he shifted restlessly. She tiptoed past his bed to the closet, where she found sheets and a blanket for the sofa-bed. She made up her bed quickly, not bothering to tuck the sheets in properly, then went into the bathroom to brush her teeth, shutting the door quietly behind her so as not to bother him with the bright light. She’d left a bedside lamp on near the sofa, just so she wouldn’t have to stumble through the room in the pitch black, but it was still dark enough for Jack to sleep —she hoped.

She was brushing the tangles from her hair when she heard him begin to cough again, a deep, rattling sound that seemed to come from the very depths of his chest. The fit lasted for a couple of minutes, interspersed with the sound of him gasping desperately for air. The fit passed just as she was beginning to worry that he was going to stop breathing entirely. There was silence for a moment, then:

“Sniff! Huh... huh... HUH-ISHOO! HUESHOO! ESHOO! Huh... HUH-ISH! ISH! Sniff! HEH-ISHOO! ESHOO!”

She smiled involuntarily to herself in the mirror, and continued brushing her hair. At least he wasn’t choking to death or anything. She put the brush away, and reached for the small bottle of moisturizer she’d bought. Vanity, thy name is woman, she told herself as she began applying it carefully to her face.

“HUH-ISHOO! HAH-ESHOO! Huh... huh! HUH-ISH! Huh...” She heard him fumbling at the bedside table, followed by a clinking sound and a dull thud. “HUH-ESH! Dammit!” he hissed the last word irritably.

She stuck her head out of the bathroom door, allowing a shaft of light to pierce the darkness. “You okay?”

“ESHOO!” He’d sat up and swung his feet to the floor. “F-fine. ISHOO! I j-just... huh... knocked over my water gl... heh... HEH-ISHOO! water glass.” He groped blindly for the light switch for his bedside lamp. “HAH-ESHOO!”

“Here,” she slipped out of the bathroom and switched on the light. The glass had fallen onto the carpet, where it lay mercifully unbroken. Most of the water had soaked into the carpet, and by a stroke of luck had spilled mostly under the bed. “You’re lucky there isn’t more of a mess than this. You’d be stepping in a puddle every time you got up.” She bent down and retrieved the glass. “Get back in bed, I’ll refill it for you. Never mind the carpet —you’re a mess yourself.”

Jack looked about to protest, then his breathing began to hitch again. He barely had time to snatch a tissue from the box on his night table and bury his face in it. “HAH-ISH! ISHOO! Huh... HUESHOO!” He sniffled wetly, blew his nose, and with a look of mingled resignation and frustration he slid back under the bedclothes.

She filled the glass at the sink. “Isn’t the Nyquil helping at all?”

“It is, if you can credit it,” his answer was muffled by his pillow. His voice cracked in the middle of the sentence, and he coughed harshly. “I don’t even want to think of how I’d be feeling otherwise.”

She brought the glass back and handed it to him. He emptied it between bouts of coughing, and she perched on the edge of the bed, eyeing him worriedly. “Better?” He nodded, still coughing. “Think you can get back to sleep?”

“Yeah,” he managed, once the coughing was under control. “I’m okay.”

“Well, you’re not, but I guess we’ll have to be content with that.”

She reached over and switched the light off as he lay back, letting his eyes close. She waited until his breathing evened out, then stole over to her own bed and slipped quietly under the covers. She lay awake for a while, listening to Jack’s breathing, until finally her own eyes closed, and she succumbed to the exhaustion that had been trying to claim her all day.

[W.I.N.]

Okay, so I actually managed to finish the next bit in time for today, so yay!

With any luck, I'll be back on track for tomorrow, as well. I can't believe we're already almost 75% done! It doesn't feel as though it's been that long, but I guess it has.

~W.I.N.

[Aprilcot]

I can't believe it either!

Again, this is amazing, and don't worry about the pov, to me, it's another great story!

I like the way Jack is being tortured!!! haha

[Tarkus]

Yay! More sneezy!Bauer goodness!

This story gets more and more worthy as it continues!

[W.I.N.]

Aprilcot: Many thanks! I'm glad you're still enjoying the story.

catmuffinz: Your drooling smiley makes me giggle every time.

Part XIX is coming as soon as I can get it written!

~W.I.N.

[W.I.N.]

Part XIX

00:00-01:00

Chloe awoke with a jerk, feeling her heart hammering painfully against her ribs. She sat up groggily, focusing on breathing normally, trying to figure out what had awoken her. A moment later, as her mind cleared of the sleep-induced fog, she recognized the sound.

“HUESHOO! ISHOO! Huh... HUESHOO!”

She looked over blearily at Jack’s side of the room. She’d left the lamp lit, just in case either of them needed to get up in the night, and now she was glad she had. It would have been difficult to see if anything was the matter if it was pitch dark. Jack had awoken himself with the sneezing fit, but he settled back against his pillows, and a moment later his eyes closed and his breathing began to even out.

Chloe pulled her blankets back around her and curled up on her side, watching him anxiously for signs of... well, anything that might be wrong. A glance at the luminous numbers of the digital clock told her that she hadn’t been asleep nearly as long as she would have liked. She heard Jack’s breathing grow ragged again, and braced herself with a small sigh.

“Huh... sniff! HUESHOO! ESHOO! Uh... huh! HUH-ESCHAH!”

The sneezes forced Jack upright in bed, and he sat with his face buried in his hands for a moment before letting himself collapse back onto his pillows with a muffled groan. Chloe pulled her covers closer around her ears. With any luck, she’d get back to sleep before he started another fit. No reason for both of them to be awake and miserable. She winced in sympathy as he began to cough painfully, obviously trying to muffle the sound with his pillow. The coughing subsided, finally, only to be replaced with a sound with which she was all too familiar.

“Sniff! Heh... heeh... heeh!” The sneeze didn’t come right away. When she looked over, she saw him sitting up, propped up on one elbow, his index finger crooked under his nose, his face frozen in a helpless pre-sneeze expression. “Heh! Sniff!” His chest rose and fell in an ever-increasing rhythm as he struggled with the tickling, until finally it overpowered him and bent him double with the force of the resulting sneeze. “HURESCHAAAH!”

“Gesundheit,” she said, unable to help herself.

“ISHOO!” He sniffled wetly and reached for a tissue into which to blow his nose. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said finally, his voice thick with congestion.

“Don’t worry about it,” she lied. “I wasn’t really asleep.”

“Huh... Oh God... heh... go-gonna sn... HEH-ISHOO! ISHOO! HEH-ISH!”

“Gesundheit.”

“Uh... thanks,” he breathed a sigh of relief as the fit passed. “I’m sorry I woke you,” he mumbled again, settling back onto the bed.

“Just go back to sleep.”

She waited for a moment, listening to his breathing even out once more, waiting to see if it would stick this time. After silence had reigned for a few minutes, she allowed herself to drift back toward sleep, a smile playing on her lips.

[Aprilcot]

AAAWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Poor Jack!!!!!

I love his sneezes and I am so evil 'cuz I still want MORE!!!!

Please continue!!!

I'm still loving this!

[Tarkus]

I second Aprilcot on the lovely sneezes and evilly wanting more!

And yeah, I love my drooling smiley because it describes this story in one easy-to-click icon.

[W.I.N.]

Aprilcot: Yeah, Jack's not having a great day. Or year. Or life, really. A cold is just adding insult to injury, but is nonetheless fun for me! Don't worry, I plan on finishing this little story. I only have five more installments left, after all! It would be a shame to stop now, so close to the end.

catmuffinz: Hee! Emoticons are useful that way.

I'm glad you two are still enjoying yourselves.

Part XX is going up as soon as it's written! Which isn't yet, sadly, but ought to be in the next couple of hours.

~W.I.N.

[W.I.N.]

Part XX

01:00-02:00

Chloe awoke to the sound of Jack coughing again. She sat up in bed, rubbing at her eyes with her knuckles, resigning herself to what promised to be a long night filled with interruptions. She felt a surge of irritation: it just figured that on top of everything else Jack would fall sick. She didn’t even like traveling, she hated not sleeping in her own bed, and she didn’t have a single nurturing bone in her body. She was going to go to Tony and demand a bonus for this, if not a raise. She wasn’t a field agent, wasn’t cut out for field work at all. Someone else should have come, she thought angrily: someone who could shoot a gun, and keep an eye out for bad guys. Instead, here they were, caught in a situation into which neither of them should have been put to begin with.

She sighed, guilt replacing her anger after a moment. It wasn’t as though any of this was Jack’s fault. He was a victim as much as she was —moreso, even. She looked over across the room to where he was curled up on his side, trying —obviously unsuccessfully— to keep from making too much noise as he coughed. A moment later she heard his breathing turn ragged.

“Huh... huh... HUH-ISH! HUH-ISHOO! Sniff! Huh... HUESHOO!” In the semi-darkness she could see his shoulders shake with each sneeze, and he began to cough again almost immediately.

She wrinkled her nose, then got up and retrieved the now-empty glass from his night table, which she refilled at the sink. She padded back across the plush carpet and sat down on the bed, placing one hand lightly on Jack’s shoulder. He started at her touch, then relaxed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said softly. “I got you some water.”

He pushed himself upright against his pillows and took the glass from her, swallowing about half its contents before he answered. “I guess I woke you again.”

“Yeah. Let’s just pretend you’ve already apologized for all the times you’re going to wake me up tonight and save ourselves some time.” She smiled wryly.

Just then his head tilted back, his eyelids fluttered, and she quickly took the glass away as he wrenched aside to catch a volley of sneezes in the crook of his elbow. “Huh... HUH-ASHOO! ESHOO! HUH-ESCHAH!” He coughed, then lay back against his pillows, shivering slightly.

“Are you cold?” she asked, trying not to sound worried.

He tugged weakly at the blankets, to little effect. “A bit,” he admitted.

“You should have put on a t-shirt or something, like I told you to,” she admonished, pulling the blankets around him and tucking him in, trying not to feel embarrassed at treating him like a child. “You’ve lost weight, you know. I can see your ribs.”

He coughed painfully, and reached for the rest of the water. “I’ll be sure to have a couple of hamburgers at the first opportunity.”

“Smartass.”

He chuckled, then scrunched up his nose as another sneeze began building. “Sniff! Huh... huh! HUH-CHOO!” His head snapped forward, and he barely had time to bring his hand up to his mouth. “HUH-ESCHAH!”

She pulled a chair over to his bedside and sat down. “Jack...” she ventured, when she was sure he wasn’t going to sneeze anymore, “Do you ever regret what happened?”

He returned her gaze evenly. “What part?”

“I don’t know. Any of it. All of it. Do you ever wish you could have done something differently?” Maybe then we wouldn’t be stuck here and you wouldn’t be on the run and sick and would never be able to see your family again, she added mentally.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know how I could have done anything differently. All my choices led me here, and I think they were right. I don’t think I can wish that I hadn’t made those choices, because then things would be a whole lot worse. At least, I think they might be.”

She didn’t answer. What was there left to say after that? She crossed her arms and settled more comfortably in the chair.

“You don’t have to stay up,” he protested.

“You’re just going to keep me up anyway. I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t have the energy to argue further. She watched for a while as, still shivering, he let his eyes close, and drifted into an uneasy doze.

[wishiwassneezy]

Yay! This story keep getting better and better.

[Tarkus]

Only four intstallments left *sob*

Great story still and I can't wait for its exciting part!

[W.I.N.]

wishiwassneezy: Thank you! It's hard keeping the writing even, especially now that I'm down to writing one installment a day...

catmuffinz: I know! Only four more... it doesn't seem like that long ago that this was just a tiny kernel of a story, a gleam in my eye, as it were... Okay, anyway. I don't know if the next parts are "exciting," exactly. I did say early on that there wouldn't be explosions or car chases or anything!

Part XXI will be posted as soon as it's written!

~W.I.N.

[W.I.N.]

Sorry for the delay, folks. Real Life caught up to me this week. I promise I'll have everything written and posted as soon as I possibly can!

~W.I.N.

[W.I.N.]

Part XXI

02:00-03:00

How she managed to doze off sitting upright in a chair was a mystery to Chloe. She decided it must be a testament to just how tired she really was. The chair was upholstered, yes, but it was still a chair, and still very uncomfortable. She straightened where she sat and stretched, feeling all the joints in her spine crackle as the bones settled back into alignment. For a moment she wasn’t sure what had awoken her, until she became aware of Jack moving restlessly in the bed next to where she sat. He appeared to still be asleep, his breathing sounding loud and harsh in the stillness of the night, and his lips moved to form soundless words, as though he was speaking to some unknown interlocutor. He’d pushed away the blanket she’d tucked around him earlier, and she could see his chest rising and falling with each breath. Abruptly he jerked away, as though from some unseen opponent, and moaned softly.

She hesitated, unsure whether to wake him. “Jack, are you in pain?” Tentatively, she reached out and brushed her fingers against his hand, her touch feather-light, and immediately snatched her hand back as he flinched.

“What time is it?” His eyes were open, but unfocused, staring at a point just in front of her.

“It’s a little past two o’clock.” She reached out again, this time laying her hand against his forehead. “You’re burning up!”

He coughed weakly. “We have to go,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not going anywhere.”

He closed his eyes, as though even the faint light from the lamp hurt them. “It’s not safe.”

She took his hand in hers. “It’s perfectly safe for now, Jack, I promise.”

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “I have to call Chloe. She was supposed to get that fix for me...”

Chloe bit her lip and held his hand tighter. “Oh, Jack... I’m right here. You’re safe, do you hear me?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, then opened his eyes again, blinking painfully. “Too hot,” he complained softly.

“You’ve got a fever,” she told him unnecessarily. “It’s probably a good thing: it means you’re fighting off whatever this is.” She winced as he began to cough painfully. “I’ll get you some more water. You hold on, okay?”

She heard him start to sneeze as she was filling the water glass in the bathroom sink. “Huh... HUESHOO! ESHOO! HUH-ISHOO!” She shook her head as she brought the glass back. Apparently he wasn’t to be spared much indignity today. She perched on the edge of the bed.

“Can you sit up?” She tried to prop him up awkwardly with one arm. He seemed to respond to what she was doing, struggling to sit up as she pressed the water glass to his lips. He coughed, and a lot of the water slopped onto the bed, but she thought maybe some of it had gone where it was supposed to. He lay back, as though even that small effort had drained him. She resisted the impulse to wring her hands helplessly, wondering what, if anything, she ought to be doing. Should she call someone? Who was there to call? Tony? Michelle? It wasn’t as though they’d be able to do anything.

“Dammit, Jack, you’re not supposed to be sick,” she whispered fiercely, taking his hand again. “I suck at this! The only viruses I know how to deal with are made of ones and zeros.”

To her surprise, he squeezed her hand. “You’re doing fine, Chloe,” he said, his voice hoarse, and it was all she could do then not to burst into tears.