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Gilly really shouldn’t have been surprised. The household flu had lasted the better part of a week and it took another two weeks for it to hit her. She never quite got over the exhaustion of taking care of three people at once and the rest of her symptoms developed slowly enough that she effectively ignored them.
Her nose started running and then stopped before getting so congested she could hardly breathe. She coughed in bouts of cold wind and told herself the shivers playing on her arms were nothing more than the late autumn chill.
W. E. got better and rejoined her at school. If he noticed her dragging her feet or snapping more than usual, he kept his thoughts to himself. Gilly flashed between gratitude and unbridled irritation.
She ignored her stuffed nose and gaslit her way through a sore throat. It was just the cold, or allergies or a bug must’ve flown down her throat.
Trotter and Mr. Randolph and William Ernest had all been very ill, but as far as she knew, and she ought to know, none of them had complained of a sore throat or a cough. They spiked high fevers and threw up anything she had managed to get in them to begin with, but Gilly hadn’t felt nauseous and she didn’t care about a little fever. She could handle anything, and way better than they had anyway.
The days passed and her cough got worse. She found excuses to spin and ways to muffle the sound. Her body ached, had for days now. She pretended she had gotten into another fight and it was easier to ignore after that. Hell, there were even some moments when it felt good, where she felt tough and strong.
Gilly Hopkins didn’t get sick, didn’t want the hassle or the fussing, not that she expected absolutely anyone to fuss over her. She’d probably kick anyone who tried.
She’d also never thought she’d be the one taking care of others either though. She had never cared enough. When kids had gotten sick with the previous families she’d lived with, she made sure to stay far away, disgusted by the whole situation, and it worked for her. She rarely got sick herself and when she did, nobody was close enough to notice and she had always, always done okay on her own.
Gilly didn’t do lovey dovey, mushy gushy, fake ass performative anything. She didn’t need anyone to take care of her, except her mother. She would let her mother take care of her; she was sure about that.
Gilly had to admit that something, even the littlest something, had changed because she did care for these freaks. She worried about their health and tended to their feverish requests and didn’t mind doing it. She stayed home from school and called their doctors, whose numbers she thankfully found taped to the side of the fridge. She took their temperatures diligently and tried her best to get some sort of food in their bellies. It didn’t occur to her to say no. She wouldn’t go so far as to say she enjoyed it, but it felt natural in a weird sort of sense.
But that was no reason to assume they’d care for her. Or notice.
Gilly huffed as she kicked a rock rather viciously down the road. William Ernest looked at her as the huff turned into a wet cough that she wasn’t quite fast enough to cover up.
“Dont,” she warned him. “It’s nothing to worry about and don’t you dare tattle. It’s nothing, you hear?”
William Ernest didn’t look entirely convinced but he nodded his understanding and followed her the rest of the way home in his usual silence.
Gilly woke up three days after that unable to deny that she was sick anymore. She hadn’t slept well, her cough pulling her from sleep, choking on mucus that kept rising in her throat.
She pulled out the handkerchief she had tucked under her pillow and spit into it. Ugh she felt gross. Her chest hurt and her cough made her ribs rattle. Her whole body was one giant ache and the world spun as she pushed herself upright. She was hot and freezing at the same time and she couldn’t hold her body still enough to stop it from shaking.
She gritted her teeth. Nothing she couldn’t handle. There was nothing she couldn’t handle.
Her knees wobbled and goosebumps overtook her entire body as she pushed her covers off and forced her feet to stumble into the hallway. She managed to resist the urge to grab ahold of the wall until she was in the bathroom. She crumpled into the sink and clung to it for dear life. She really expected the world to stop spinning. Any time now.
She maneuvered her body to lean against the wall and let herself sink to the floor with as much control as she could muster. Just a minute to catch her breath, that’s all she needed.
She held in a cough, clearing her throat instead, and still brought up green phlegm that she carefully wrapped in toilet paper and threw away. She might not be feeling her best but she wasn’t a total slob. And nobody needed to know.
It took her many minutes more than one to get back on her feet but she managed it, using the toilet and the sink and the wall to pull herself up. She figured at this point, it was probably a good idea to take some aspirin and found a bottle in the cabinet from when everyone else was sick and swallowed one with a sip from the sink. She’d feel better after it kicked in. She just needed to give it some time.
She stumbled her way back to her room. It was early; no one would be up for another thirty minutes at least. She could go back to sleep.
Gilly was rather attached to the still quiet of the early mornings. They were just hers, hers and the worlds, no matter what house she lived in or where or with whom.
However the thought of going back to sleep was such an overwhelming rush of relief that Gilly didn’t think twice before falling heavily back into bed and tugging her blankets tight around her. The motion knocked something loose in her chest and she buried her face in her pillow and coughed. And coughed and coughed and coughed. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as sharp pain bloomed in her chest.
She felt miserable. Truly horribly awfully miserable. A tear slipped down Gilly’s nose and ran into her pillow. Then another and another. The last thing she thought before sleep took her was she really hoped that aspirin would kick in quickly because she didn’t think she could hide this from Trotter much longer.
Gilly did not wake up to her name being called. She did not wake up when William Ernest tapped on her door and told her breakfast was getting cold. She didn’t hear the boy's footsteps on the stairs and or the hushed conversation as he tugged Trotter up the stairs to knock herself. She didn’t hear Trotter bang on the door, didn’t hear the door open.
Trotter gasped as she opened the door. Gilly was there and hadn’t tried to run again (thank God), but she was fast asleep, unheard of for the girl thus far. Much more worrying were the splotches of red high on the girl’s cheeks and the wheezing each time she took a breath. The covers shook as the girl shivered and Trotter was squeezing her way into the room immediately.
“Gilly, honey?” She asked, sitting on the bed and reaching out to press the backs of her fingers against Gilly’s cheek. “Oh Lord,” she murmured. “You’re burning up, baby.”
She turned to William Ernest standing in the doorway looking worried and made an effort to keep her voice calm. “William Ernest, darlin, you know where the thermometer is, don't you?”
He nodded mutely.
“Go fetch it for me,” she gave him a soft smile.
He nodded again and with a look at Gilly he disappeared.
Trotter shook Gilly softly by the shoulder. “Wake up for me, honey. Come on,” she whispered and leaned back so as to not overwhelm the girl as she woke.
Gilly’s eyes cracked open and she groaned. She didn’t know if she had ever felt worse in her life. She had some vague recollection of forgetting about something, was there something she needed to do? Or not do? She had taken something to help, aspirin. That was right. It hadn’t helped. What was she supposed to do now? Trotter would- Trotter was on her bed. School, getting up, she had to-
Gilly flung herself forward and into a coughing fit. There was no covering this one up. Gilly coughed until she was choking. She couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t see and her stomach cramped and then she was throwing up all over her blankets. Not that there was very much for her to throw up. She had eaten less and less over the last few days, nothing feeling appetizing and none of it sitting well, even if she hadn’t felt nauseous until this very moment.
Gilly coughed and gagged until tears were streaming down her face. She couldn’t stop them and at this point she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was vaguely aware of Trotter moving to sit behind her, pulling her hair away from her face, running a warm hand in soft circles on her back, and whispering words that Gilly didn’t hear but felt warmth wash over her regardless.
The coughing slowed and eventually stopped. Trotter one handedly bundled up the soiled blankets and pushed them to the edge of the bed, never seeming to move away from Gilly and Gilly was far too tired to hate what she so desperately wanted.
A handkerchief magically appeared in Trotter’s hand and Gilly wiped her mouth. God she wanted to sleep. She knew she was supposed to pretend she was fine, go to school, and cope. And she could. She could.
A louder voice in her brain told her that there was no chance on God’s green Earth that Trotter would let her leave the house today, much less go to school. And truth be told, she really didn’t want to.
Gilly leaned back and felt her eyes drift shut again. Trotter’s arms held her close, rocking her gently, a hand cupping her forehead, a soft tsk slipping from the woman’s mouth.
“Thank you, baby,” she heard Trotter say, and opened her eyes to see W. E. standing in her doorway holding out a thermometer. Trotter took it. William Ernest gathered the blankets at the foot of her bed and took them away without being asked.
“Open up,” Trotter murmured, running a hand through Gilly’s tangles, and Gilly let her slip the thermometer under her tongue. Trotter continued to brush a hand over her hair, gently slipping the knots apart in a way that had Gilly fighting for the ability to stay awake.
A few minutes later the thermometer beeped and Trotter took it and looked at the numbers. “Heavens,” she said. “Let's get some aspirin in you, see if we can help this fever go down.”
A piece of information tugged at Gilly’s brain. “Its okay,” she whispered. “I took some around six, should start to work soon.” She cleared her throat and coughed hard into her shirt.
Trotter’s frown deepened. “Baby, how long you had this cough for?”
Gilly shrugged, not opening her eyes. “Not long.”
“Since at least last week,” W. E. interjected quietly from the door.
Gilly’s eyes flew open at that and she glared at the boy. “You said you wouldn’t tell,”
He looked properly ashamed of himself but didn’t look away. Gilly was almost impressed.
Trotter held her closer and continued to run her fingers through Gilly’s hair that held fewer and fewer tangles. “He’s just trying to look after you, honey. He cares about you is all.”
That shut Gilly up real fast. She didn’t have time for this, she didn’t have the energy for this, she didn’t have the fight in her for this. Why were these people being so nice to her? She didn’t deserve this. God, her head hurt.
She pressed her fingers into her forehead and closed her eyes.
“Here,” William Ernest whispered.
Gilly felt Trotter reach for something but didn’t care enough to open her eyes to find out what it was.
Her unasked question was soon answered as Trotter ran a cool damp cloth over her arms and face. It really did feel amazing but Gilly still couldn’t pinpoint whether she was boiling or freezing. It didn’t seem fair that she was both.
Before she knew it, W. E. had brought her more blankets and Trotter was helping her lie down onto her pillow. Her eyes were getting heavier and heavier; she couldn’t have opened them if she tried.
Someone wrapped the blankets up around her shoulders and tucked them tight. She could’ve sworn she felt the brush of a kiss on her forehead but maybe she was already dreaming.