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“I'm going to sob.” Caitlyn announces.
She'd woken up this morning to find out she was still ill. With Winter about, that meant the morons that took roles as her coworkers would go out ill-fitted for the weather, come back, and give it to everyone in the office. Unfortunately it had befallen Caitlyn too, and she hated it.
She feels hot and sweaty but cold and trembling. Emotional but stoic. A lot of oxymorons her brain can't even come up with because it's so foggy right now. She'd woken up with teary eyes this morning and had given her poor lover a heart attack. Caitlyn never cried. At least, she didn't have the screaming-crying nightmares Vi did. So for Caitlyn to wake up like it had startled the brawler.
Then Vi had taken her temperature and had calmed down, if only slightly. Right now she's gently adjusting the curtains so it'd let some light in but not blind her. Caitlyn's heart swells at her worry. She sniffles.
“Baby, you don't have to do that.”
Vi shrugs, and steps back from the curtains, satisfied. She turns to go downstairs, likely to go make soup or something when she notices Caitlyn's staring. She slumps a little, “Why don't we settle you on the couch so that you can watch me through the doorway?” She suggests.
Caitlyn smiles slightly.
So now they're in the living room. Caitlyn's napping haphazardly on the couch, her condition already having deteriorated. Vi sits nearby, the soup ready to go in the microwave and the tea ready to boil and pour. She sits and reads, but keeps an eye on her lover, checking and rechecking her comfortability and temperature every hour or so. She manages to make headway in her book.
Caitlyn doesn't stir until almost noon. Her gaze is clearly bloodshot and all Vi wants to do is hold her. But seeing her awake gives Vi the window to make her soup and tea, which she brews in the kitchen as the other woman readjusts to existing in the waking world again. When Vi wakes in, Caitlyn's eye finds her, still unfocused.
The brawler gently sits next to her, lifting her into her lap, “I got you some soup and some tea.” She croons, brushing a sweaty bang from Caitlyn's forehead, “I'm here if you need help, okay?”
Slowly, Caitlyn manages to feed and drink by herself. Vi just holds the bowl close by so it doesn't hit the carpet when Caitlyn moves her legs a bit quick. Once she's finished, Vi places it aside. She's about to get up when she feels lanky arms curl around her. She looks down, watching Caitlyn doze back off. Vi's gaze softens and she angles herself so that Caitlyn lays on top of her, pulling the blanket over them both. She's happy she felt comfortable.
Besides, Vi could do with a nap too. Waking up every time Caitlyn threw up last night was stressful. She settles, playing with the other woman's sweaty, sticky hair as she lulls herself to sleep, too.
She gets about an hour's worth of sleep before she's woken by a thud in the other room and a suspicious lack of Caitlyn on top of her. Vi groans softly, sitting up with a stiff back, “Baby, are you in your office?” She calls.
There's a long silence.
“...no.” hacks Caitlyn.
Vi slowly peels herself off of the sofa. She treads down the hallway, spotting the very open door of Caitlyn's office. Oh, and her sock-clad foot sticking out of the threshold. The brawler should be frustrated, really. But coming up and seeing how sad Caitlyn looks on the floor, it just breaks her heart to see her on the edge of tears. She gently scoops her up into her arms, lifting her from the rugged floor.
“Okay, baby. It's okay.” She murmurs gently, kissing her forehead, “Com'on. Com'on, let's get you back to the sofa. Yeah?” She soothes, beginning to carry her. Caitlyn sniffles and nods, expression solemn.
“I just wanted to do something productive.”
“Oh, I know, baby. It's okay.”
“I feel pathetic.”
Vi hums, “Hey. One time, I was so sick that I tried to eat coffee beans because I thought it was cereal.” She murmurs. Caitlyn snorts lightly, which makes Vi's chest swell.
“You did?”
“Oh yeah. It was awful.”
Caitlyn makes an amused hum, her head leaning against Vi's chest. “Thank you. You make me feel better.”
“Good, that's what I'm here for.” The pink-haired woman replies, “But you need to rest right now, okay? It's better to be sick for one week than two.” She croons as she sets Caitlyn back on the couch. She turns to grab the blanket.
“Is that a saying?” Caitlyn murmurs, turning on her side.
“Oh. No. I don't know.” Vi answers, “My old man used to say it when any of us kids got sick.” She murmurs.
Caitlyn smiles slightly as Vi tucks the blanket around her quivering shoulders, “You're talking about them.”
“...yeah. I guess so.” She murmurs, sitting against the couch - mainly to make sure Caitlyn doesn't get up again.
“I'm proud of you.” Caitlyn murmurs, placing a hand on Vi's upper arm. Searching for her hand and clearly missing, “That's progress.”
Vi smiles softly, “And you're not immediately getting up. Now that's progress.” She points out. The other woman huffs softly, clearing her throat as she settles back down. Vi's eyebrows raise, satisfied.
Caitlyn folds her arms loosely, “I'm going to have to play catch-up.” She grumbles.
“You'll be in a better state of mind. You'll get through it quicker, C. Don't kill yourself for a system that doesn't give that much of a fuck about you.”
“Violet.” Caitlyn hisses. “Language.”
“I still have a point.”
Caitlyn nods slightly, leaning back, “I suppose I just feel lousy.”
“Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere.” Vi assures, squeezing her hand before kissing her knuckles. Caitlyn softens, letting her neck finally relax and her head lay unceremoniously on the arm of the sofa.
“I love you. Thank you.”
“I love you too.” Vi chuckles, handing Caitlyn the novel she had been reading, “Also, you're gonna like this one.”
Caitlyn gently takes it, warmed. She runs her hand through Vi's hair before flicking it open to the first page.
If she's asleep a few sentences due to her fever… well, Vi won't tell. She just tucks Caitlyn in further and slips a pillow under her head, enamoured with her peaceful expression.