Stiles waited on his twin sister, hand and foot, bringing her everything she needed. Hot soup, hot tea, cool washcloths, warm blankets. Anything and everything.
"Stiles, you need to sleep," she whispered. "It's really late."
He shook his head, placing another cold cloth on her forehead. "I don't care. We don't have school tomorrow and even if we did, I would tell them we weren't coming in because you came down with something."
"Where's Dad?"
"He's coming home late." Stiles placed the back of his hand on her cheek. "Nothing's changed, Fi. Fever's still blazing."
"I think my blankets are cooling down again," she murmured.
"Alright. I'll go grab you some warm ones."
While he was gone, the front door opened and closed, before footsteps came up the stairs and her father appeared in her bedroom.
"Fion. Hey, baby girl."
"Hi," she responded, closing her eyes.
"Pretty bad fever?"
She nodded.
"Do you know what brought it on?"
"I was up for a while last night," she answered, truthfully. "Then I had a nap after lunch at a friend's place and woke up with a fever. They drove me home. Stiles has been taking care of me since."
"That's good. He's a good brother."
"Mm. He has his moments."
"Oh hey, Dad. Didn't hear you come in."
"Yeah, I just got home. Nothing changed?"
"No, sir. Fever is still the same."
"Did you give her some fever reducer?"
"Yes."
"And it's done nothing?"
"You know how her body gets when she's sick sometimes. It doesn't want to take the medication."
"Dad, you've had a long day at work," she said, weakly. "You should get some rest. And Stiles should get some sleep too. My fever hasn't changed at all. I should be okay tonight."
"One more dose of fever reducer, baby girl, just in case it might work. Then we'll all go to bed. If the fever hasn't broken by tomorrow or if it's gotten worse, she's going to the hospital. Do you need me to stay home tomorrow?"
The 16-year-old shook her head with a tired smile. "You go do your job tomorrow, Dad. I'll be fine."
"Yeah, I can take care of her tomorrow," Stiles added.
Sheriff Stilinski sighed. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? Stiles, give your sister some more medication so that she can rest. Then we'll both head off to bed."
Stiles obeyed, also wrapping his sister in more blankets. "I almost can't see you anymore," he teased with a grin.
She rolled her eyes. "Go away and get some sleep."
"Yes, ma'am."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, the first thing Stiles did was go check on his sister. At first, he thought that she wasn't there anymore because all he saw was a pile of blankets. Then he saw a few wisps of hair on her pillow and sighed, pulling her blankets down so that she could breathe.
"Fi, you're gonna suffocate under there."
"Give me back my blankets, Stiles. I'm freezing."
He frowned, placing his hand on her forehead before pulling it back with a grimace. "You've gotten worse. Your fever is worse than it was last night."
She coughed. His frown got deeper.
"Stay put," he ordered.
"I can't exactly go anywhere," she answered, her voice hoarse before she began coughing again but it sounded much worse.
He ran to the bathroom and grabbed the ear thermometer, before returning to her room. He gently placed it in her ear and waited for the beep. When it did, he looked at the temperature and gave a low whistle.
"102 degrees Fahrenheit," he said. "Fi, we've got to start cooling you down. I think the heat is making your fever worse."
"Stiles, if you take away my blankets, I swear I'm gonna kill you."
"You're too weak to kill me," he said as he began pulling the blankets away. "If it makes you feel any better, you can keep one blanket but- is that Derek's hoodie?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, you can keep the hoodie and one blanket. No more."
She glared at him, but obediently released the rest of the blankets.
Stiles called Derek as he was taking the blankets away.
"This is Derek."
"Hey, Derek. Yeah, Fi has gotten way worse. My dad told me to leave her alone overnight because her fever was the same ever since she got home. Her temperature has reached 103 and- hello?" He looked at his phone. "Weird."
"Do you seriously have my boyfriend on speed dial?"
"I had to for this occasion."
Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door downstairs. Stiles nearly tripped over the blankets in his rush to answer it. As soon as he opened it, Derek was inside and halfway up the stairs.
"Hello to you too!"
"You're not the concern right now, Stiles. Your sister is." He was already on his way back down with a blanket-wrapped Fionnuala in his arms. "We're taking my car. It's way faster and it's already on. You're driving, so be careful."
"Derek-"
"Ssh, Isolde." He sat in the front seat with her in his lap. "It's gonna be okay."
She groaned. "He took my blankets away."
"I know. But your fever's worse, sunshine. The blankets were only gonna make it worse."
"I'm still cold."
"Did you not give her fever reducer?" Derek asked Stiles.
"I did. But 9/10, her body rejects it."
"What do you mean, rejects it?"
"I mean, it doesn't work."
"So why are we bringing her to the hospital?"
"Because Melissa McCall works there."
"Scott's mom?"
"She's known Fi since she was a baby. Every time she's gotten sick with something, Melissa knows to take care of it."
"Great." Derek got out as soon as Stiles parked the car. "Let's get her inside."