Cured [ManxMan]

Chapter Twenty-Three

I woke gradually to a feeling like I'd been shoved in an oven and groaned, attempting to push myself away from the heat source next to me. Said heat source grunted at my weak attempt to shove it away, and I blinked in confusion, struggling to remember where I was.

Was that someone else in the bed with me? How did that happen? Who...? The person pushed himself up onto one elbow, a ray of moonlight falling over his face to reveal it was Mattie. Wait, why was I in bed with Mattie?

I pushed for memories, for an explanation, and was rewarded with a memory of landing on my ass on the sidewalk outside my house, staring up my father standing in the doorway as he glared down at me before slamming the door.

That was right, I lived with Mattie now. No, Matthew, he didn't like people shortening his name. But... Mattie seemed right as well. But where did that thought come from? Matthew didn't like people calling him Matt, why would Mattie be any different? But I didn't remember ever asking about that name. Maybe he didn't feel the same about Mattie as he did about Matt? But everyone had always called him Matthew, I was so sure of that.

It was still too hot, making it difficult to focus on the thoughts. I coughed weakly as I continued my attempts to separate myself from Mattie and the blanket cocoon around us. Mattie mumbled something I couldn't make out and tried to pull me closer, still half asleep. which brought a whine of protest from me.

He tensed at the sound and released me, allowing me to scramble away until there was empty air beneath me, and then I was on the floor in a tangled heap, the sheet still wrapped around me and my backside smarting from the impact. I was struck with a strange sense of déjà vu, half expecting Mattie's mom to come into the room to investigate and threaten to make one of us sleep on the couch.

Except, even in the dark, I could tell this wasn't Mattie's bedroom. The door was on the wrong wall, the bed bigger and taller, the walls decorated with framed pictures I couldn't make out in the dark instead of posters. But it was still familiar somehow, I just couldn't quite remember why, and my head throbbed at the effort, prompting me to groan and put my hand to it.

"Topher?" Mattie sounded awake now, and alarmed too, as he slipped out of bed and came around to the other side to help me up, lifting me easily and depositing me on the bed. His hands pressed against my forehead and cheeks, and though my first instinct was to bat them away, they felt cool against my skin, so I relaxed into the touch instead, allowing him to worry over me. It would have been too much work to make him stop anyway, and I was too tired.

"You're burning up," Mattie muttered. Finding the words to voice my agreement would have been too much effort, so I made some sort of humming sound in agreement.

Then Mattie was gone, and though I wanted to protest—both at not knowing where he was and because the cool touch of his hands was gone—but couldn't find the strength to so much as turn my head to see if he was on the other side of the room, let alone call out for him. Instead, I let my eyelids close and felt exhaustion pulling me back to sleep, the strange heat and throbbing in my head because I couldn't remember where I was or why I kept thinking of my boyfriend as Mattie starting to fade along with reality.

Something cool against my face brought me back to awareness just before I could properly drift off, and I opened my eyes to find Mattie had returned with a damp washcloth in hand. I turned my head to give him better access and sighed as the water cooled my hot face.

Mattie said something, but I couldn't make it out, even after he repeated it several times, each time a bit more urgently. All I could make out was his worried tone, and I knew I should be concerned as well, but I couldn't find the energy for it, so I stared blankly back at him until he finally set the washcloth across my forehead and left. Moments later, my consciousness faded away as well, and I happily allowed myself to fall back asleep.

The next time my eyes opened, Kiara stood over me with her hands on my forehead. Upon seeing I was awake, she shoved something in my mouth, and I automatically held it under my tongue, subconsciously recognizing it as a thermometer before my mind had the chance to wake up enough to process what was happening.

The pounding headache, at least, had abated, leaving me less confused about where I was. Had my subconscious gotten caught in the memories of my dream and been unable to recognize the present through the lens of the past? That had never happened before, even though most of my dreams were of my past. What changed? Perhaps the fever, making me delirious? And where was Mattie?

I waited until the thermometer beeped and Kiara pulled it from my mouth before turning my head to find Mattie hovering on the other side of the bed. He stood with his hands clenched together, the lamp on the bedside table providing enough light to make out the dark circles under his eyes and the disheveled state of his dark hair.

The lack of light reminded me it was still night, a glance at the darkness through the window confirming the thought, which meant I had woken them in the middle of the night. My stomach churned with guilt, especially for waking Mattie, who I knew hadn't been sleeping well recently anyway, and for making him worry so much again. It seemed that was all I ever did.

Kiara grabbed me by the chin and turned my face back toward her so she could shine a light into my eyes, to which I responded with a hiss. I tried to jerk away from her grip, which she allowed, apparently satisfied with the blindness she'd already caused, and while spots danced in front of my eyes, she pushed the end of her stethoscope down the front of my shirt to listen to my heartbeat.

I turned back toward Mattie, reaching out for him, needing his comforting presence closer instead of hovering several feet away making me somehow more anxious. He obliged by crawling onto the bed and taking my offered hand in both of his, raising it to his lips to press a kiss there before just holding it to his chest, both actions that would have made my cheeks warm if they hadn't already been so hot.

Satisfied with her examination, Kiara sighed and stepped back to announce, "It seems you just have a fever, Topher, and Mattie's quick action brought it down a bit, but it's still higher than I would have liked. I can't tell with any certainty if we're looking at another side effect of the cure, if it's related to the infection still in your blood, or if maybe you just caught a cold or something. You were pretty isolated until we released you from the hospital yesterday, and while it would be unusual for an illness to take hold this fast, with the depressed state of your immune system, it's not entirely out of the realm of possibility. You seem stable enough for now. Mattie, keep an eye on the fever and call me if anything changes, but I can't find any other signs of illness, and unless things get worse, it's probably better to stay where you are instead of risking exposure to something else, or aggravating his condition by stressing him with too much movement."

"Of course," Mattie said, hardly glancing at her, his worried eyes focused on my face, so I tried to send him a comforting smile, unsure how successful it might have been.

Kiara nodded and stated, "I'll be back later to check on you both. Don't worry too much, Mattie, I'm sure Topher will be fine." This Mattie chose not to acknowledge at all, but Kiara still sent him a tired smile, then, with one last look at me, she slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Mattie brushed my damp hair away from my sweaty face, and I leaned into the touch, both because it was cool and for the comfort it brought. "You should try to get some rest," Mattie said, his voice soft in the silent room. "It's still pretty late, and you'll need it to get better."

I wanted to insist he lay back down too, that he needed the sleep almost as much as I did, but couldn't find the words, and I was already drifting off anyway. Right before I fell asleep, I felt him shift so he was lying next to me again, close by but far enough away to not overheat my feverish body, bringing a small smile to my lips before I slipped away into a blissfully peaceful unconsciousness. 

Posted: 8-25-2020

Word Count: 1560

.... oops? Sweet Toph is sick again, oh no :( In other news, unless something changes, I can now confirm there will be a total of thirty chapters, so seven more after this, and maybe an epilogue if I feel like it. If there are any threads I've left loose you'd like me to tie up, leave a comment to let me know so I can keep it in mind while I'm writing the last few chapters. Have a great week :)

<3Koda