Midge woke early as usual and slowly walked around the apartment, fingering the buttons to his new pajamas that he had remembered to slip on underneath his blankets before getting up. He looked out the windows at the stillness before the sunrise. The city was almost pretty this time of day.
He folded up his blankets and placed them in the pile with his pillow, straightening up the living room. He took Marley with him to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of milk, drinking it down slowly. Then he opened the closet door and ran his fingertips along each item of clothing. Scott had been so good to him yesterday.
He used the bathroom and then paused at Scott's bedroom door, listening to make sure everything was okay. He knew he shouldn't go in but he wanted to see him, just to make sure he was alright. Slowly he turned the door knob, then gently pushed the door open.
The room was dark, the only light coming from Scott's phone which was plugged in and charging on the table next to him. Midge took a few steps closer and that's when it hit him, something was wrong. Maybe Scott was having a bad dream, but he was too hot, the beads of sweat barely discernible in the dark. Midge could smell them though, the salt pierced his nose
He went closer, trying not to wake him but needing to know he was okay. Sickness scared him and he was petrified that his Scott was ill. He gently placed his hand against his forehead, pulling it back when he felt the clammy heat. "Scott?" he whispered.
Scott groaned and turned to his side, his head throbbing. His pillow felt like a brick, his bed like a rock. "Fuck" he moaned.
"Scott? Are you okay?"
"Midge? What are you... what time is it?"
"I do not know, it is early. Can I help you?"
"I need some Advil and water. It's in the bathroom."
He raced out, grabbing a drink of water from the kitchen and bringing it, placing it on the end table. When he got to the bathroom and opened the cabinet, there were 5 different bottles of pills. He grabbed them all, then went back to ask for help. "Is it one of these?"
Scott tried to focus but it was too dark. "Advil. I don't know. Just give me two."
"I can not. I am sorry, I don't know which one. Aaahhd, does it start with A?"
"Yes Midge, with A. They're blue." He answered, his voice strained.
He went back to the hallway so the light wouldn't bother Scott's eyes and found the bottle he thought was right. He opened it up and yes, the were blue. He went into the bathroom and put the other bottles back before going in and giving Scott his medicine.
"Thank you Midge."
"Are you okay?"
"Just sick. I felt a little better yesterday but I guess this cold finally caught up with me. I'll live."
"Are you sure? Please, please do not die." He ran out of the room to grab Marley and rushed back, climbing into bed next to Scott. "I can help. I took care of Trent and I can take care of you. Just please do not die."
"I won't die, I promise. It's just a cold, Midge. Stop worrying." He wanted to tell Midge to get out of his bed but he didn't want to be alone, and he didn't want Midge to be worried about him. He turned on his side, his back facing the small boy who had snuck into his heart, and his bed.
"If you tell me what hurts, I will try to help you."
"Mostly my head, it's throbbing."
Midge curled closer to his back and reached one hand up, threading it through his hair. Slowly, gently, he ran his fingers over his scalp putting pressure on his temples and down near the nape of his neck. Over and over he caressed his head, pouring his thanks into his fingertips.
"God that feels good." He tilted his head to give him access to as much as possible.
"If you roll onto your stomach, I can do more of it, and your shoulders. But only if you want. I will rub until you fall asleep or tell me to stop."
Scott didn't need any convincing, he gladly rolled forward and turned his head, giving him access to the half he hadn't been able to rub yet. He would have sat up and stopped Midge when he straddled his hips if he hadn't been half asleep and in so much pain but as soon as those little fingertips dug into his shoulders and his strong thumbs pressed into his neck, all thoughts of arguing disappeared.
Midge worked at the knots in his shoulders until they finally relaxed, then went back to work on his head until he was sure Scott had fallen back asleep. He felt his forehead and was thankful that it felt a bit cooler. He climbed down and pulled Marley into his arms, snuggling against Scott's side.
When Scott woke later he knew two things. 1. He had to use the bathroom and 2. He was a lucky, lucky man. He got out of bed and looked at the wide-eyed boy tangled in his blankets. "Morning Midge."
"Are you okay? Do you feel better?" He sat up and crawled across the bed, meeting Scott at the corner. "Would you like breakfast? I can make some things."
"You can cook?"
"I can make eggs, and toast, and pancakes if you have a mix. Or cereal, of course, and oatmeal. You should lay down and I will take care of you."
"I'm okay Midge, really. I'm going to pee and take a few more Advil but breakfast sounds good. I bought eggs last night, can you scramble them? And maybe some toast?"
"Yes, yes Sir." He hopped up and scooted towards the kitchen, glad to have a job to do and a way to help.
Scott wandered out to the kitchen and sat at the counter, watching Midge work in his kitchen as if he'd been there for months. When he put a plate of fluffy eggs and buttered toast in front of him, he grinned, then dug in. 'These are amazing, thank you."
"I am glad you like them. Please tell me if anything is wrong, I can make them however you would like."
"This is perfect, honestly. I'm not hard to please." He swallowed two more Advil and made his way over to the couch. "When you're finished, please come sit with me. I want to know all about Trent."