Jem managed a nod. "May have missed... one day... when we were on a hunt," he said slowly.

Will frowned at him. "Still, that shouldn't be causing a reaction like this." With that, he carefully drew Jem into his arms and stood. He moved slowly and steadily, trying to be as gentle as possible, but Jem still couldn't help the low groan that rolled from somewhere deep in his chest, even as he tried to fight it back.

"Shhh, I'm sorry. So sorry. Almost over," Will murmured to him, lying him back on the bed. It seemed to give him little comfort, for the line of his shoulders was tense and set, and his eyes were still closed tightly, temples glistening with exertion.

Will turned to the bedside table, reluctantly undoing the clasp of the silver box. He looked worriedly at Jem, trying to estimate how much of the drug would be necessary tonight.

His parabatai was white as chalk, the only color in his face spilling across his cheekbones from the fever. The breaths coming from the bed were laced with pain and ragged, as if it was taking an extreme effort to simply keep breathing. Scarlet stained his hands and a streak ran through his hair where he must've pushed it off his face.

Will's mouth twisted into a frown as he spooned what he hoped was enough of the fine silver powder into a glass of water and let it settle. He took a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and gently cleaned the blood from Jem's hands, kissing his fingertips as he did so.

"I'm sorry," Jem exhaled quietly, eyes closed.

Will lightly kissed his forehead, wanting to cringe from the heat. "What for?"

"This." Jem's voice was unsteady. "All of it."

"James, I've told you this a hundred times: it's not your fault, and it is not a burden to me. You are not a burden to me," Will said quietly as he set the cloth on the bedside table. "Besides," he added, "I don't mind taking care of you."

Jem managed a grateful smile before coughing weakly into his sleeve, his strength obviously slipping away. Will looked sadly at him before taking the glass of the yin fen and helping Jem sit up as far as the pain allowed him. Jem leaned heavily on Will for support, even just sitting up.

Will held the cup to Jem's lips, one arm wrapped around his waist to steady him. "Here. Drink this."

Jem made a small noise of displeasure, but did as he was told and reluctantly drained the glass.

Will set the glass back on the table and focused his attention on his parabatai. Jem's shoulders were still tense, anticipating another wave of coughing to hit any moment. Will, trying not to upset the mattress and hurt him further, lay beside him and gently held him.

He could feel how tense Jem was in his arms- a wire, pulled taut and ready to break. Will ran his fingers lightly down his arm, trying to undo the tension in every line of Jem's posture. He attempted to comfort him with little whispers of "I'm sorry" and "Soon, it will be better soon" and "I love you."

The words seemed lost on Jem in his present state, though he clung to the sound of Will's voice like a lifeline. Will could see Jem was depending on the very words he spoke, so he continued to speak in a steady, quiet voice, praying that the storm would pass.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" Jem whispered, eyes closed as he curled up to Will's chest.

Will felt himself smile, stroking his hair softly. "You were yourself," he murmured. "I love you."

"And I love you," the elder boy sighed.

"Get some rest," Will said quietly.

Jem opened his mouth to respond, but began to cough harshly again. He turned his head quickly away from Will, shifting and creating a small gap between them.

Will's heart ached even from this simple action. He knew it was foolish, knew Jem's intentions were not born of something cruel, but he still felt hurt.

With gentle movements, he pulled Jem back to his chest, feeling his thin frame shudder violently as the uncontrollable coughing took over.

Jem tipped his face up so Will was looking directly into pale silver eyes. "I'm going... to get blood... on your shirt," Jem warned between coughs.

Will almost laughed. Of all things Jem could be worried about right now, he would be worried about Will's shirt. "I don't care," he assured Jem, and held the other boy close while he coughed and shivered and gasped. The minutes seemed to drag on endlessly while Jem was in pain, until Will thought he might go insane with the feeling of his own uselessness.

Both had long lost track of time when Jem's breath deepened and the coughing trailed off. Will glanced down, and smiled to see his silver-haired beauty asleep against his chest. Jem was still shivering, as if he were freezing despite his high fever. Stifling a yawn himself, Will pulled the blanket over the two of them and finally allowed his eyes to close. Jem's heartbeat was a steady rhythm now against Will's chest, and Will allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by the comforting regularity of it.

"Just another bad spell," Will murmured. "We'll get through it."

Jem shifted against his chest, restless and half-awake. "We always do."

Will smiled. "And we always will."

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