It started with a runny nose, and a sore throat. Simple. Easy to manage. You went to school. Figured it was a cold and that you could get over it pretty quickly. Nothing slows down a Strider. Now you're in your bed slowed down by the only thing that was supposed to keep you going. Your body. With a 39°C  fever and unable to stomach anything but soup and tea you felt needy for the first time since you were a little kid. Its not that you couldn’t be needy its that in your family everyone took care of themselves. Toughness was a factor, but its not like everyone was heartless.

Your appetite had decreased drastically because of the lack of physical exercise these past couple of days. Either that, or the fact that you threw up anything you decided to try and eat. Its not like the idea of vomiting later was an appealing thought to sit down with at the table.

"Diiiirk." You groan as you turn over in your bed muscles yelling at you to stop.

You've been keeping your brother home from school to take care of you. Not like he needed an excuse to skip anyway. He's literally the only one willing to take care of you through your inconsistent waves of chills and overheating. He doesn't seem to mind too much. You're sure he's more than glad to take a couple days off to tend to his suffering sibling. You sigh and kick the covers off of you. He comes into your room with a thermometer and a glass of water. You sit up and take a couple sips of it before setting it down on the nightstand. The second you put the water down he puts the thermometer in your mouth. Cold plastic shoved into the warmth of your mouth was not really what you were expecting. Shivers run through you and you miss the discarded blanket thrown onto the floor. You wait until it beeps none the less before you take it out

"39.8°" you mumble before laying back down in the bed the movement causing your head to pound more.

Your head hurts, your lips are chapped, and you've accumulated quite a pile of tissues, which is easily the only thing you've accomplished in these past few days, aside from relentlessly annoying your brother. You think you'd feel better with sunglasses on though you're not sure why. When the headaches started you took one of your sheets and threw it over your window to block out the sun. But the comforting feeling of your shades was gone and if anything that was what was bothering you the most.

You look up at Dirk about to start whining when you really look at him. He looked tired and exhausted either from you or from something else you weren't really sure. Now a days he always looked exhausted its not like you could put your finger on a reason anymore. Rings around his eyes were no longer temporary reminders of late nights no doubtfully spent on whatever mechanical project he'd been working on. They reminded you of an artist carving into him sculpting him out of everyone else and digging down too hard by accident causing blood vessels to rupture leaving you silently hoping that if you waited long enough they'd fade away like bruises.

Shoulders slumped like his hands had weights attached to his shoulders and ropes twisted and tied down to the ground at every joint. Now that you look at him every muscle and joint seemed to scream with protest at every movement. Like he'd been working on the mechanical projects in the garage but forgot to oil himself up so he could move properly.

You were sick but he seemed sick too in his own way. You almost felt guilty depending on him so much. Bro wasn't around any more and your parents being home was joke enough to get featured on late night comedy shows you and him had spent way to much watching late into the night. But yet he still managed to get up in the morning and go to school. How much more weight could he carry before he broke. You almost wanted to start taking his backpack from him for fear that might be the straw that breaks his back.

Grabbing your water again you slide the straw into your mouth and drink in as much as you can hoping that maybe that will help a little and help you get better even if it is just fluids. You shiver as the cool liquid pools in your stomach and he notices despite your best efforts. Getting off the edge of your bed he walks over to the bottom side of your bed and picks the cover back up putting it over you. You sigh in relief and he throws another thinner one on top of you for good measure.

Seemingly satisfied with your condition he starts to walk out of your room and you throw a noise his direction in protest. You don’t want him to leave. Not yet. He looks at you with eyes that beg to be left alone like all he wants to do is collapse in bed and sleep for 20 years and even then you're still not sure the bags under his eyes would be slept away.

“What do you want?” He asks with more annoyance than concern and you only have the guts to motion him closer scared if you let your voice out you wont be able to get it back in you. He walks himself over to you with bones made of lead and you scoot over closer to the wall on top of the cold side of the bed hoping he understands. Eyebrows furrow as he looks at you in almost questioning wonder but reluctantly allows himself to get underneath the covers with you.

Fingers abandon sheets in favor of his chest as you use his shoulder as a pillow. Feet drape over his own cold feet coming in contact with your own, causing shivers to wreck throughout your body. Arms pull the covers up to your shoulders as he drapes them over you playing with your hair. It feels too intimate for brothers, but only having one person to count on leave a lot of things within questionable boundaries.  He sighs into you relaxing himself for what looks like days if not weeks. Bones sinking into the bed as if he got up there would be an imprint of him on your bed so you could lay in his imprint and compare body sizes. You look up watching eyes close under his shades as his body heat wraps around you. Eyelids heavy you close them sinking into him. Because even though you were the throwing up. You supposed you both needed a sick day more often.