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Leo had fallen asleep on the couch, his face smashed against a pillow, quilt tossed haphazardly over his shaking form. Elliot watched him for a moment, sighing.

Leo was prone to getting sick - he was skinny enough as it was, and living at Fianna’s House had made him vulnerable to all sorts of the viruses and infections that floated around. To top it off, just sitting around dusty books all day didn’t help build Leo’s immune system at all. So here they were, again, Leo curled up virtually unconscious on the couch. As Elliot approached him, he coughed weakly, a wet sort of gurgle that set Elliot on edge. That could not be good. He knelt next to Leo and gently shook him, keeping a steady hand over his chest. Leo jerked awake, head bolting upright from the pillow.

“Whoa,” Elliot urged, keeping Leo up as his friend started coughing. “Take it easy, Leo. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“M fine,” Leo gasped as the coughs subsided, pushing Elliot away from him as he sat up fully. He weaved for a second, and Elliot reached out, concerned, but Leo pushed him away again. “Elliot,” he repeated, more clearly this time, “I’m fine. Just go to sleep. It’s late.”

Elliot frowned.

“Idiot, it’s seven o’clock. I woke you up to see if you were hungry.”

Leo blinked in confusion, rubbing his face with his hand. Elliot noticed for the first time that his cheeks were flushed.

“It’s only seven?”

“Yeah,” Elliot said, getting to his feet. “The dining hall is only open for another hour so I thought we should eat.”

Elliot watched as Leo paled.

“I’m not hungry,” he said, plopping himself back onto the couch. “You go on without me.”

Elliot sighed.

“Leo. . . .”

“Just go, Elliot!” the valet snapped and Elliot glared him down.

“I’m getting food to bring back here,” he decided, beginning to stomp towards the door. Leo called after him in protest.

“I’m not hungry!”

“Well, then, that’s too bad cause you’re gonna eat anyway!” Elliot wrenched open the door, and, before leaving, turned on his heel and pointed a threatening finger at Leo. “You stay put, you hear? Don’t go anywhere!” And before Leo could say another word, Elliot slammed the door and stomped down the hall.

“Stupid Leo,” he muttered under his breath. “So freaking stubborn. It’s the fact he doesn’t listen to me that he gets sick all the time. I swear. . .”

Elliot continued his annoyed muttering all the way downstairs to the dining hall, where he demanded the fine food from the students working there to be stored carefully in glass containers that could be taken back up to his room. The students, though curious as to why the Nightray boy was getting the food himself instead of sending his valet, said nothing and gave Elliot the food carefully balanced on a tray.

“Do you need any help bringing it up to your room, Elliot-sama?” one student asked in a timid voice. Elliot shook his head.

“No,” he growled, “I’ve got it.” And he left without another word. He made his way back up to his room, continuing his annoyed muttering about Leo, and, when he arrived, pushed open the door with his shoulder.

“Leo!” he announced. “I’ve brought us food!”

Leo groaned from his place on the couch and rolled over as Elliot laid the tray down on their little coffee table in the middle of the room. He squinted.

“What is it?” he said, and winced when speaking hurt his throat.

“Hm.” Elliot removed the lid from one plate and smiled at the meal in front of him. He gestured grandly, the motion so proud that it seemed like Elliot had made the meal himself. Leo rolled his eyes. “Today’s meal consists of buttered bread and grilled chicken parmesan with marinara sauce.”

“Marinara sauce?” Leo raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Do you even remember what happened last time?”

Elliot recalled spilling the sauce all over his white uniform and Leo working his ass off to get the stain out. He shrugged.

“Well, of course I remember,” he said, “but we fixed it, and it all turned out fine.”

Leo sighed and plopped his head back down on the pillow. He didn’t think it was a good idea for Elliot to be eating the bright red sauce again, but he was too tired and sore to argue. Elliot frowned down at him.

“Sit up,” he said, “it’s time to eat.”

Leo made a face and shook his head.

“Not hungry.” He curled up, drawing his knees to his chest. “But you go ahead and eat.”

“Are you nauseous?” Elliot asked, covering the hot food on the tray with the the lid again.

“No. Just a sore throat.”

Elliot’s hand lunged forward, slapping Leo on the forehead, and he not-so-gently palmed Leo’s face for a fever. He glowered and leaned away as Leo’s hand went up to rub at his temple.

“Ow, Elliot. Why’d you hit me?”

“You have a fever,” Elliot said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re sick.”

“I know.” Leo coughed again, curling in on himself as wet wheezes forced themselves out of his lungs. Elliot reached out and held Leo’s shoulder, keeping him from rolling off the couch, as Leo’s coughing fit continued. After a minute or so, Leo quieted. However, he was paler now, and his breathing was more labored. Elliot sighed and sat himself cross-legged on the floor next to his valet.

“You should have told me you were feeling bad earlier, Leo,” he said, his voice, although annoyed, remaining quiet. “We’ve talked about this.”

“I know.” Leo curled up further, avoiding Elliot’s bright blue eyes. “I didn't want to bother you.”

Elliot snorted.

“You’re really stupid, you know that?” he said, and he went into the spare closet, grabbed another blanket, and tossed it over Leo. “You wouldn’t have bothered me. But now you’re gonna. You and your shit lungs. You’re really gonna be an inconvenience now.” A small smile pulled at his lips. “Who’s going to tell me how stupid I’m being, huh?”

A small, pained laugh left Leo’s white lips, although he winced immediately afterwards, his face scrunching up in pain.

“Leo?”

“Just my throat,” Leo said, snaking a hand out from the blankets to rub at it fitfully. “It’s sore. Hurts.”

Elliot’s lips pinched together. A sore throat. Well, that was just great. How the hell was he supposed to get Leo to eat something now?

“Why don’t I go downstairs and get something soft for you to eat?” Elliot said, getting to his feet. “You like pasta, right?”

Leo looked up, glaring at Elliot.

“I’m not hungry,” he said.

Elliot glared in return.

“Too bad. You need to eat. Pasta, right?” And he left the room.

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Elliot glared in return.

“Too bad. You need to eat. Pasta, right?” And he left the room.

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Leo watched him go, peering over the couch, and when he left, the valet tossed himself back onto his pillow, drawing the blankets up to his nose. The new one Elliot had given him was an old blanket, one provided by the school, with the Lutwidge insignia on it, but it was Leo’s favorite. It smelled like mothballs and dusty parchment, no matter how many times you washed it, which really pissed Elliot off, but Leo didn’t mind. The smell was comforting to him - it reminded him of Fianna’s House and the fond memories he had there.

Leo coughed again and curled up in the blanket, twisting onto his side and smothering the coughs with the fabric. He was hoping the fit would be short - what with the pain in his throat and chest - but when had he ever been that lucky? The coughs dragged on and on, and Leo, beginning to panic slightly, leaned over the edge of the couch, trying to push himself up with his elbow. When he failed, he curled himself up further, screwing his eyes shut.

A few minutes later, Elliot burst back into the room, brandishing a tray filled with a plate full of angel hair pasta.

“Leo!” he declared. “Look-!”

The words fell dead at his feet the moment he heard Leo’s coughs. They were wet and desperate wheezes - coughs Elliot hadn’t heard in a long time.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Elliot said, and he slammed the tray on the coffee table without thinking, wincing when Leo’s breath caught with a frightened gasp. Elliot’s friend was wrapped in his blankets, using the fabric to smother his coughs, and, judging by how hard Leo was coughing and the way he was nearly falling off the couch, Elliot figured he’d been having a fit for a while now.

Elliot went into action immediately, spurred by his concern. He pulled the blankets off Leo and tossed them aside, catching Leo’s hand as he searched for the suddenly lost fabric.

“Leo, it’s okay. It’s all right.” Elliot released Leo’s hand, instead grabbing his bony upper arms and lifting him, with appalling ease, to a sitting position. Leo panicked for a moment, slapping Elliot in surprise and alarm.

“Easy, Leo,” the Nightray said over Leo’s terrible coughs. “It’s okay. Take it easy. Easy.”

Elliot then adjusted himself so that he was sitting behind Leo, his valet propped up against his chest. He began to rub Leo’s back in circles, every once and a while muttering platitudes in his ear. Much to Elliot’s relief, Leo’s cough dropped off a few minutes later. Leo went silent and fell back against Elliot, his head lolling on his friend’s collarbone.

Elliot peeked into his face, but past Leo’s waterfall of hair he could only see his friend’s cracked white lips and pale cheeks flushed crimson. He swore internally, pissed Leo hadn’t told him about this earlier, but when he spoke his voice was quiet.

“Leo,” he said, “you okay?”

Leo nodded; his throat was on fire - he didn’t trust himself to speak. Against his cheek he felt Elliot sigh.

“You gave me a scare, you idiot,” he teased. “That was quite the coughing fit. You sure you’re all right?”

Leo nodded again and Elliot’s brows drew down into a frown.

“Can you talk to me?”

Leo shook his head and pointed at his throat.

“Ah, I see. Your throat hurts. I bet it’s worse, huh?”

Another little nod.

“Well, I’ll just ask one of the residents to make us a pot of tea. You’ll need it.” Elliot sighed. “And so will I.” Elliot reached across the couch and tossed the blankets back over Leo, wrapping them tightly around his shoulders. “You know,” he said, “it’s really unfortunate that your lungs suck so much.”

Leo glared at Elliot from under his thick, clouded glasses.

“S’not my fault,” he rasped.

“I didn’t say it was, did I?” Elliot retorted, annoyed. “Goodness, Leo, do you even pay attention when I talk?”

Leo’s lips curled into a smirk.

“No.”

“Hmph, that’s what I thought,” Elliot said, and he slid out from behind Leo and got off the couch. “I’ll be back - I’m gonna ask the prefect for some tea bags. Will you be okay by yourself for a little while?”

Leo nodded and curled up, drawing the blankets more securely around his shoulders. Elliot watched him for a second, wary, before squaring his shoulders, nodding, and exiting the room.

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Leo nodded and curled up, drawing the blankets more securely around his shoulders. Elliot watched him for a second, wary, before squaring his shoulders, nodding, and exiting the room.

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He walked briskly down the hall, his proud strides echoing across the smooth tile. At the other end of the sophomore student dormitories lived the resident director for their floor, a senior named Thomas and his valet. Thomas was responsible for watching over the younger boys’ activities, holding floor meetings, and setting rules in general. On the first day of the school year, Thomas had introduced himself with a big smile, his white uniform adorned with the light blue ribbon of a prefect. He had said that any of the boys could knock on his door, any hour of the day, and he’d be there “in a flash.” Elliot found the senior relatively annoying, and so avoided him unless he was required to speak with him, and had never visited him freely before.

Elliot actively hated Thomas. It was all he could do to keep himself from mouthing off every time Thomas talked to him. The senior was so freaking *happy*, so full of this dripping optimism, that Elliot found himself despising him with every bone in his body. Once, towards midterms in late September, Thomas ran into Elliot in the hall - on one of the few occasions he wasn’t with Leo - and had spoken with him about mundane things like dodgeball and organic chemistry until Elliot swore he was going to explode. How dare this student, although he was Elliot’s elder, waste so much of his time?!? Didn’t he understand that he was a son of one of the most prominent houses and had many duties to fulfill? Thomas was obviously smart enough, given how the names of hydrocarbons rolled off his tongue like he’d known them all his life, but he clearly didn’t understand that Elliot didn’t have time for useless small talk. As Thomas continued speaking, moving on to the topic of the spiritual interpretation of scripture, Elliot had almost began yelling at him, and he would have screamed till his throat was raw too, when Leo suddenly appeared and stepped hard on his foot before he could get a single insult out of his mouth.

Elliot tended to avoid Thomas after that and sent Leo to speak with him - and then only if it was really necessary.

But, unfortunately, Leo was out of commission, the dining hall was closed, and Elliot and Leo had run out of tea a week ago and had never bought any more. So there was no other choice than to get some from Thomas.

Elliot finally reached the end of the hall and the large oaken door that lay at the end. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the cheeriness that was sure to bombard him, Elliot raised his fist and knocked on the door. There was a surprised yelp from inside the room, the rustling of papers, and a bang as a chair was overturned, and then the door was opened. Thomas was standing in the doorway, still in his rumpled school uniform, his dirty red hair tossed haphazardly over his head like a bird’s nest. A spot of blue ink stained his pale cheek, but, besides from seeming harried, Thomas’ smile was as bright as ever.

“Hello!” he chirped. He looked down and blinked, as if for the first time noticing that it was Elliot standing in front of him. The senior raised an eyebrow. “Elliot Nightray,” he said, “what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for teabags.” Elliot was no-nonsense, as ever.

Thomas frowned and cocked his head.

“Teabags?”

“Yes. Leo and I ran out a week ago and we have yet to replace it.”

“Elliot,” Thomas said, shaking his head and leaning against the doorframe. “I can’t just provide you with my extra tea just because you want it. You’ll have to go into town and buy some tomorrow.”

Elliot shook his head.

“I need it now,” he said.

Thomas raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“Why?” he asked. “Is it really that important?”

“Yes.” Thomas waited for Elliot to elaborate and when he didn’t, sighed again.

“Elliot-”

“My valet is ill and requires tea. It will soothe his throat.”

Thomas’ ridiculous eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

“Your valet is sick?” Elliot pursed his lips and nodded once, stiffly. Thomas leaned forward, his brown eyes wide with curiosity - Elliot leant away. “With what?”

“He-he has a cough,” Elliot stammered, unnerved by how close Thomas was. He had never realized how tall the senior was until he was looming over him. He must be at least six feet, Elliot thought, but he could be even taller - taller even than Gilbert.

“Hmmm. Really? Anything else?”

“Master Thomas.” A deep male bravado echoed from inside the senior’s room and Thomas sighed and leaned away from Elliot, turning with a smile to his valet. “What have I told you about leaning over the younger students that way?”

Thomas’ valet was the exact opposite of the aristocratic senior. Smaller, stouter, darker - his uniform was always cleanly pressed and his black hair was swept back so that he resembled a shorter version of Elliot’s brother Claude. He was more serious than Thomas, stoic almost, and it was widely recognized across the floor that Thomas’ valet did more serious work in a day than the aristocrat would do in his entire life.

“Ah, Stephen! Sorry, sorry!” Thomas said, and he rushed to the valet and grabbed his arm. He dragged him to the front door, motioning grandly at Elliot. “Young Mr. Nightray here wants some tea for his valet, who’s sick with a cough.”

Stephen’s stoic face softened minutely.

“Leo is ill?” he asked. Elliot blinked - he didn’t think anyone on this floor liked Leo, much less knew his name.

“Yes,” Elliot answered. “A bad cough and a sore throat.”

“I see.” Stephen turned to Thomas. “Shall we get him some tea bags then, Master Thomas?”

“Of course! Come in, Elliot, come in!” Before Elliot could object, he was grabbed by the arm and launched inside, almost toppling onto the floor. But Thomas only laughed and helped straighten Elliot up, leading him to a small couch by a window. “What kind of tea do you want?”

“Any kind is fine, I suppose,” Elliot shrugged.

“No, that won’t do,” Thomas said, shaking his head so that his red curls bounced. “That won’t do at all.”

Elliot was growing very annoyed, very quickly. He had just come to get some tea and then leave - it shouldn’t have taken more than five minutes. He hadn’t planned to be dragged inside Thomas’ room, forced to discuss types of tea. His place was with Leo and he was acutely aware that he needed to be back there soon in case another coughing fit came up.

“Thomas-sama,” he growled through gritted teeth, trying to stay polite, “it’s really fine-”

Stephen’s voice, which came from the kitchenette, cut through Elliot’s like smooth butter.

“Thomas, your little sister suffers from frequent coughs, does she not?”

Elliot stiffened and his eyes drifted over to Stephen, who emerged from the kitchen with a large bamboo box. The valet was staring at him pointedly and Elliot swallowed and tore his eyes away.

“Yes, Lily has bad lungs. Luckily, it’s nothing too horrible and when she gets sick, tea always serves to make her feel much better.” A big grin crossed Thomas’ face and he motioned Stephen over. The valet came up with the box and Thomas opened the lid to reveal a plethora of tea bags.

Elliot’s jaw dropped.

There must have been at least fifty different kinds, each labeled with a different colored strip of paper, ranging from a soft yellow to the purest black. They were arranged neatly in order of color and type, a clear and meticulous system that Thomas had arranged himself.

“Wow,” Elliot breathed, “that’s a lot of tea.”

Thomas laughed and plucked a few bags from the box.

“Sure is. I took up the habit of collecting them and learning all about the best types when my sister was very ill.” He leaned forward and placed a few bags in Elliot’s palm. “Here’s some of the best for what you’ve told me so far. This licorice tea has analgesic properties that will really help Leo’s throat, and so will the peppermint. The chamomile should help him sleep, but don’t give it to him till later. He’ll probably wake up during the night if his cough’s serious.”

Elliot nodded and Stephen seated himself next to Thomas, across from Elliot, the box resting on his lap.

“How bad is it now?” he asked.

“His coughs are really wet,” Elliot answered, “and he’s having a little trouble breathing. He had a really bad attack a while ago.”

Thomas and Stephen exchanged worried glances and Thomas, with no hesitation, plucked a yellow tagged bag from the box. He handed it to Elliot, who was slightly alarmed by the seriousness in his eyes.

“This is ginger tea,” he said. “It should really help Leo’s wet lungs.”

“All right, thank you.” Elliot got up to go, but Thomas grabbed his arm and shoved him back down to his seat.

“Elliot,” he said, his voice more quiet and serious than Elliot had ever heard it, “you need to tell Stephen or I if Leo gets worse, all right? Coughs are not something to mess around with, especially if you’re saying he has trouble breathing.”

“It’s fine,” Elliot said, getting up again and heading towards the door. “He gets sick like this every winter - like your sister, he doesn’t have the greatest lungs. But nothing’s ever gone wrong. He’s always been all right.”

“Mr. Nightray,” Stephen said, “I understand your confidence, but it is essential that you tell us if your valet gets worse. This winter has not been a kind one and many illnesses have been sweeping among the school. It would soothe both of us greatly if you would tell us if Leo gets worse.”

Elliot swallowed roughly and his eyes darted between the two seniors. They were both deadly serious, and even Thomas’ bright expression was set into a worried grimace. Did they really believe it was this bad? That Leo could get really sick?

“I-I will,” Elliot stammered, and this time, filled with ever growing concern, he meant it. He clutched the teabags more tightly in his hand and bowed at the seniors. “Thank you for the tea. I’m going to return to Leo now.”

And he headed down the hall, his brisk walk nearly breaking into a run. Thomas and Stephen watched him go.

“Do you believe that his valet will be all right?” Stephen asked Thomas, turning to his master. The aristocrat bit his lip and slowly shook his head.

“Not really, but I sure hope so.”

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“Not really, but I sure hope so.”

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Leo had fallen into a sort of restless sleep a few minutes after Elliot left, exhausted. However, his sleep was far from peaceful, and he was plagued by distressing and horrible nightmares. The dream consisted of blurred shadowy figures that stabbed Elliot repeatedly as Leo watched, screaming. It seemed to be on an endless loop - they would walk into a seemingly empty room, Leo would be tossed in a chair and tied up, and be forced to watch Elliot die, red blood bubbling to his lips, over and over and over again. Leo was aware it was a dream, but he couldn’t seem to wake up, which frightened him almost as much as the nightmare itself.

Leo struggled against the ropes, screaming for Elliot, when he felt strong hands on his shoulders, a palm swept across his forehead, and heard muttered swears. Leo’s yells fell silent and he tried to pull himself out of his nightmare, clutching at the arms of the person who was holding him.

“That’s right, buddy, that’s right.” They pulled him into the sitting position. “There you go. Stop screaming.”

“El-Elliot. . .” Leo stammered, his best friend’s face with dead blue eyes still boring into his mind. “Elliot. . .”

“I’ve got you, Leo, I’ve got you.” Leo’s fingers tightened around the person who was holding him - Elliot’s - arms. The real Elliot. “Ouch! Leo. . .”

“You’re safe?”

“What? Of course I’m safe, you idiot. You were dreaming.”

Leo let his head drop against Elliot’s chest, Elliot’s heart beating against his ear. The steady lub-dub calmed Leo and he relaxed into Elliot a little more, allowing the clutches of the nightmare to fade. However, with this came the realization that his throat was burning. He whimpered.

“Leo?” Elliot asked, tugging his friend a little closer to him. “You all right?”

Leo shook his head, moving his death grip from Elliot’s arm to his own throat. He rubbed at it fitfully, his pale hands shaking. Elliot pulled his fingers away with a gentle nod.

“I understand,” he said. “I’m going to make you some tea now. That should help a little, right?”

Leo nodded and swallowed, his face scrunching up. Elliot rubbed his arm reassuringly.

“Hang in there, Leo. I know it hurts, but you’re doing great. Time to sit up again. Ready?” At Leo’s nod, Elliot pulled away from Leo and propped him up completely, supporting him with pillows. Leo weaved a little bit, the color fading from his face, but Elliot kept him up with ease, then frowned and stuck a hand to Leo’s forehead.

“You’re warmer. You’re worse.” Elliot pried one of the blankets from Leo, ignoring his whine of protest. “God, I leave you for ten minutes and your fever spikes and you’re having horrible nightmares?” He shook his head and pursed his lips in mock disappointment. “I’m surprised at how incompetent you are.” He paused. “Actually, I’m not.” A pillow was tossed at his head, but Elliot ducked away with graceful ease, laughing as he headed to the little kitchenette. “I’ll be in here. Stay alive! I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He turned the corner into the kitchenette, and, once he was sure Leo couldn’t see him, fell against the wall, knees shaking.

“Jesus,” he muttered, and he tipped his head back, allowing himself the rare pleasure of losing his composure. He brought his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes furiously, willing the tears to stay there. “It was just a nightmare,” he said to himself, “there’s no use crying about it. He’s fine. Leo’s fine. He’s fine.”

But Elliot was aware that Leo’s frightened, raw screams would haunt his dreams for some time to come. He’d come back from Thomas’, hands full of teabags, expecting to find a calm, though not well, Leo, but had instead found him screaming. It hadn’t been loud since Elliot couldn’t hear him from the hall, but the second he had opened the door a terrified, scratchy wail echoed off the walls. Elliot had dropped the teabags and ran to the couch, where he found Leo, face scrunched up, screaming in the midst of a nightmare. He was flushed and panicked, the blankets twisted around his waist, his fingers fisted in his dark hair. Elliot dashed to him, pried his fingers from his hair, then grabbed his arms and lifted him up. Leo wailed in confusion and fear, and Elliot, heart beating a hundred miles an hour, began babbling to his friend, hoping to get through to him. Much to his relief, it seemed to work, for Leo relaxed a few seconds later, although he still seemed confused and upset - even asking if Elliot was safe. Elliot pondered this for a moment, realizing that he must have played a prominent role in Leo’s dream, before shrugging the thought away. He took a deep breath and finally pushed himself off the wall, grabbing the tea kettle and filling it with water. He turned on the little stove and left the pot to boil, returning to Leo.

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Leo was curled up on the couch, and, although he was sitting up, he was obviously threatening to keel over. His breaths came in thick, wet gasps, accompanied by deep coughs that lasted for a few seconds and left Leo breathless. Elliot came and sat next to him.

“Hey, Leo, are you feeling worse?” Leo nodded and Elliot frowned. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. How about we skip classes tomorrow?”

Leo whirled so fast Elliot didn’t know how his glasses stayed on his face. He shook his head and opened his mouth to object, but Elliot spoke before he could.

“No, you’re not going to classes tomorrow. And no, I’m not leaving you here alone while I go to classes. And no, nothing you can say will get me to leave you here on your own. I’m not having anyone watch over you except me.” Elliot crossed his arms over his chest and stared Leo down. “You’re my valet, after all. You’re my responsibility.”

Elliot could feel Leo staring at him, wanting badly to object, but, for once, he couldn’t. Elliot smirked.

“All right. That’s settled, then. We’re staying here tomorrow.” The kettle began to whistle and Elliot got to his feet, wiping his hands on his pants. He sent his brightest smile Leo’s way. “Licorice tea. No milk or cream, but you can have some sugar. How many cubes do you want?”

Leo held up four fingers and Elliot pursed his lips, but nodded anyway, deciding to indulge Leo’s sweet tooth because he was sick. Although he didn’t understand why anyone would want so much sugar in their tea - it ruined the whole taste.

“Good. I’ll be back in a minute. Let me pour some cups.”

Elliot disappeared again into the kitchenette and poured hot water into two cups, letting the loose leaf tea bags steep while he grabbed the sugar bowl from the cupboard. Using the tongs, he dropped one sugar cube into a Lutwidge-provided porcelain teacup and four into another, then pulled out the teabags and stirred them carefully. When he was done, he placed the teacups on a small tray and brought them out to Leo.

“I have tea, Leo, and I made it by myself.”

“S’not that hard to do,” Leo began, but Elliot cut him off.

“Ah, ah, no talking, Leo.” Elliot set the tray on the coffee table and handed Leo his cup, laying it carefully in his shaking palm. “Easy, Leo, it’s hot.” Leo shook and nearly spilled the scorching tea all over himself, but before he could, Elliot snatched it back.

“El-Elliot. . .” Leo stammered. “Why’m I shaking?”

“Probably the fever.” Elliot seated himself next to Leo and wrapped the blankets more firmly around him, cocooning him. He grew alarmed when he saw tears begin to make their way down Leo’s pale cheeks. “Leo, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re just shaky, is all. Calm down, buddy.”

Leo coughed roughly, nearly doubling over.

“Fuck,” Elliot swore, keeping Leo upright. “Leo, calm down. It’s okay. Stop crying.” Another cough, this one worse than the last. Leo began to gasp, and he clutched at Elliot. The Nightray maneuvered himself in front of Leo, so that he was crouching in front of him, holding his arms.

“Leo, look at me.” Leo didn’t look up right away, gasping as he was, but Elliot shook him. “Look at me, Leo!” Leo’s head snapped up, and he met Elliot’s eyes. Elliot tried to smile reassuringly. “Good. Good job. You don’t need to drink the tea right away, Leo,” he comforted. “Let’s just rest for a little while, buddy. You’re doing a great job. Try to relax now.”

Leo coughed once more, holding onto his abdomen, but then relaxed, pulling away from Elliot and tipping his head back against the couch cushions. Elliot took a big, shaky sigh, and relaxed again, moving to sit cross-legged on the floor.

“Elliot?” Leo rasped and Elliot looked up at his friend.

“Yeah?”

“Why’re you callin’ me buddy?”

Elliot made a face.

“I’m not calling you ‘buddy.’”

“You are,” Leo rasped. “I wanna know why.”

“Huh.” Elliot cocked his head. “I didn’t realize I was calling you that. My brothers used to call me things like that when I was little and got sick or hurt. ‘Buddy’ was the most common one. I guess I found it comforting? I don’t know.” He looked up at Leo. “I can stop if you want,” he said. “I don’t want to upset you.”

“S’okay,” Leo slurred, choking back a little cough. “Just wanted to know why.”

Elliot watched with a worried frown as Leo continued to shake violently, the tremors racking through his thin body threatening to tear him apart. God, this was already really bad. And it hadn’t even been a whole day yet. Elliot’s concern was growing rapidly, parallel to Leo’s ill health. The Nightray boy was beginning to think he couldn’t do this on his own.

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Elliot watched with a worried frown as Leo continued to shake violently, the tremors racking through his thin body threatening to tear him apart. God, this was already really bad. And it hadn’t even been a whole day yet. Elliot’s concern was growing rapidly, parallel to Leo’s ill health. The Nightray boy was beginning to think he couldn’t do this on his own.

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“Leo,” he said, getting up from the floor and seating himself on the couch next to his valet, “do you think I should call for a doctor? You aren’t doing well at all.”

Leo shook his head.

“No doctor.”

“Leo,” Elliot sighed, “this seems bad. I think-”

“Elliot!” Leo snapped, his voice cracking as it tore through his throat. “No!”

Elliot blinked, taken aback by Leo’s vehemence, but his surprise faded as Leo launched into yet another coughing fit.

“All right, that’s it. I’m calling for a doctor. Stay here.”

Before Leo could object, Elliot was on his feet and out the door. He walked briskly down the hall, making his way again to the prefect’s room. When he arrived, he knocked on the door and was immediately greeted by Stephen.

“I would like to call for a doctor,” Elliot said, straightening his back and trying to keep a neutral expression. “My valet is worse.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow and Elliot saw alarm slip into his dark eyes. Elliot’s heart sunk and filled with fear of its own. A second later, Thomas appeared suddenly behind his valet, his red curls bouncing.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Mr. Nightray wishes for me to call a doctor for him.”

“Oh.” Thomas’ eyes flicked to Elliot, then back to his valet. “Call for our family physician, would you, Stephen?”

“Right away.” Stephen began to head towards the telephone, when Elliot cried out in annoyance.

“Hey! Wait a minute!” Stephen stopped and turned, and Elliot found both of the senior boys’ eyes on him. “I want Leo to be seen by the Nightray physician,” he said. “Not the school’s or your own.”

“Elliot,” Thomas said and the young Nightray stiffened at the seriousness and patience in his voice, “my family’s physician is specialized in respiratory care.”

“So?”

“So, you told me that Leo struggles with illnesses like this every winter. I believe it would be best if he was seen by a specialist.”

Elliot scoffed.

“Leo’s seen my doctor plenty of times. There’s no need to change anything.”

“But has Leo gotten any better? It seems like he’s still suffering.”

Elliot’s blue eyes sparked with indignation.

“Are you saying that my physician is inadequate at providing care?!? If so, then-”

“I am saying,” Thomas said, his voice raised above Elliot’s, “that perhaps they haven't been providing the best care for Leo.”

Elliot’s lips parted in a silent “oh.” His eyes widened.

“Leo isn’t from an aristocratic family, is he?” Stephen asked, appearing behind Thomas.

Elliot shook his head.

“My family doesn’t like him much . . .” he said, his voice trailing off. 'Doesn’t like him much? That’s an understatement - they all hate Leo. My siblings won’t even refer to him by name, simply calling him “It.”'

“Then could it be possible that your family physician is instructed to only provide basic care for Leo?” Thomas suggested. “He would give the best possible care to you and your siblings perhaps, but not to Leo?”

“It is likely. . .” Elliot agreed hesitantly, recalling the quick and rough check ups the doctor gave Leo, the swift examinations and hastily prescribed medications when he was sick, the way the doctor avoided touching Leo if at all possible. Elliot looked back up at the two seniors, now angry and passionate.

“Very well,” he said, “call for your physician.”

Thomas grinned and, for once, Elliot didn’t want to slap the smile off his face.

“Of course.”

***********************************

Chapter Text

Last chapter: “Of course.”

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“What’s taking that doctor so long?” Elliot muttered from his place on the couch, Leo swaddled next to him. The valet was dozing on his shoulder, quiet, wet breaths escaping his slightly parted lips. Elliot had returned to him once the phone call was made, and found him sitting upright, the now-cool cup of tea in his hands. He was taking hesitant, small sips, and looked up when Elliot came in.

“Ah, Elliot - oh, hello Thomas-sama.”

Elliot whirled, and there, behind him, was the red haired prefect himself. The Nightray glowered at him.

“I didn’t give you permission to come here,” he said, annoyed.

“But I came to see Leo.” Thomas leaned over Elliot and waved at the young valet. Leo raised a hand in return. “Actually, I really came to tell you two that the physician should be here in a half hour. I’ll escort her up here.”

“Her?!?” Elliot’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t tell me the doctor was a woman!”

Thomas frowned, confused.

“I didn’t think it relevant,” he shrugged, “although I should have checked if Leo was comfortable with it first. Are you?” Leo nodded and Thomas grinned. “Good! I’ll be back with the doctor soon!”

That was an hour and a half ago. Elliot sighed and leaned his head back against the couch cushions, frowning at the heat emanating from Leo’s body despite his continuous shaking. Elliot pulled the blankets more tightly around Leo with a frown, then kissed the crown of his head, grimacing when, that too, was hot.

Leo coughed suddenly, waking him from his short sleep, and he wiggled out of Elliot’s grip and the blankets with a whine, complaining that it was too hot.

“You want some water?” Elliot asked. “I can get you a glass.”

Leo nodded, adding a hoarse “please” to the end. Elliot rolled his eyes and headed toward the little kitchenette. Then there was a knock on the door, followed by a cheery call of his name. Elliot stalked to the door and wrenched it open, glaring at Thomas when he saw that the senior was the only one there.

“Where the hell is your doctor?” he demanded. “You said she’d be here an hour ago!”

“She’s coming,” Thomas said, and Elliot heard a woman’s voice echo up the stairs. Seconds later, she appeared at the door, standing next to Thomas.

She was two heads shorter than the red-headed senior, with olive skin and brown eyes. Her thick, textured black hair was pulled into a knot that sat at the top of her head. Her eyes were hidden underneath a pair of green cat’s-eye glasses, although the lenses weren’t thick and clouded like Leo’s. She was wearing a pants-suit, similar to Vanessa’s style, and a white doctor’s coat was tossed over her shoulders. She smiled at Elliot, revealing gapped white teeth.

“Hello, Mr. Nightray,” she said, bowing to him. “It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Dr. Walsh.”

“Um, nice to meet you too.” Elliot dipped his head in return, still in the doorway.

“Can I see my patient, Mr. Nightray?” the doctor asked after a moment, her voice quiet and gentle. “Thomas told me it was rather urgent.”

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Chapter Text

Last chapter:

“Can I see my patient, Mr. Nightray?” the doctor asked after a moment, her voice quiet and gentle. “Thomas told me it was rather urgent.”

************

“Oh, yes, of course.” Elliot moved aside, motioning the doctor inside the room. “He’s on the couch.”

Dr. Walsh made her way into the dorm, making a beeline for the small couch in the middle of the room. She knelt in front of Leo, who was sitting up and leaning against the cushions, exhausted. Thomas went to grab a chair for the doctor to sit on as Elliot seated himself next to his friend.

The doctor smiled up at Leo.

“Hi there,” she greeted, and her voice was soft and gentle although it had a strong ring to it. “My name is Dr. Walsh. Can you tell me yours?”

Leo licked his lips and nodded.

“Leo,” he rasped, his voice cracking. He launched into a coughing fit after speaking, leaning forward and hacking into his elbow. Elliot rubbed his back in reassuring circles, muttering platitudes until the wet coughs subsided. When he looked up at the doctor, she was sitting in a chair that Thomas had brought without him noticing, and was frowning, deep creases between her eyebrows.

“Leo,” she said, “Thomas was telling me that you’ve been sick like this every winter. Is that true?”

Leo nodded and Dr. Walsh pulled out a notepad and scribbled something down.

“Okay. For how long?”

“S-since I was five.”

Elliot’s eyes widened. Every year since he was five? He’d gotten this sick every year? How come no one, least of all Leo, not told him this before?

“Never this bad, though,” Leo added, and he leaned against Elliot, who hugged him tightly. The doctor smiled at this show of affection, then laid her notepad aside.

“All right, Leo, I want to listen to your lungs now. Is that okay?” Leo nodded. “All righty then. Take off those blankets and your shirt for me.”

As Dr. Walsh leant forward and rummaged through her leather medical bag she had brought along, Elliot peeled the blankets off Leo. Leo shivered and tried to grab one back, but Elliot pulled the fabric out of his friend’s thin fingers with ease.

“Hey!” he said, but his reprimand was quieter than usual, sick as he was with worry. “The doctor wants to hear your shit lungs. You can have the blankets back later, okay? For now, you don’t get a blanket - ” Elliot leaned forward and grabbed Leo’s starched white collar, beginning to undo the buttons - “or a shirt.”

To his surprise, the moment Elliot touched Leo’s shirt, the valet squealed and shoved his friend away. Dr. Walsh looked up from her seat, frowning, and Elliot was perplexed, but a moment later, understanding, he grabbed Leo’s hands and squeezed them fiercely. He then leant forward and forced Leo into a hug. When Leo was close to him, Elliot nestled his head in Leo’s hair and began whispering in his ear.

“It’s okay,” he promised. “It’s okay. They won’t be angry.”

“I-I-” Leo smothered a cough - “I don’t want them to see.”

“I know. But you need to get checked out, okay?” Leo shook his head and Elliot felt his valet’s muscles tighten up under his hand. He sighed. “Leo.. .”

“Elliot?” Thomas asked, and Elliot looked up to see the senior and the doctor frowning in worry. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah. It’s fine. He’s fine. Just let me talk to him for a second.” He dropped his voice. “Come on, work with me, buddy.”

“Elliot, no. . .”

“Elliot, yes. It’s okay, Leo, I promise. Just let me help you out of your shirt now, all right? One step at a time.”

****************************

TBC

Chapter Text

Last chapter:

“Elliot, no. . .”

“Elliot, yes. It’s okay, Leo, I promise. Just let me help you out of your shirt now, all right? One step at a time.”

********************

Leo hesitated a moment, then nodded slowly, leaning back and allowing Elliot to unbutton his shirt and shrug it off him. Leo shivered when his upper half was stripped and Elliot rubbed his arm reassuringly. Doctor Walsh was still leaning over her medical bag, rummaging through the mess, and so hadn’t yet looked up at her patient. She clicked her tongue, pleased, when she finally found what she was looking for.

“All right, Leo,” she said, pulling out her stethoscope, “let’s take a listen - ” The words died on her lips and she stared at the sight in front of her.

The young boy, barely fifteen years old, was skinny and frail, and she could tell that even when he wasn’t ill, he was as pale as snow. The outline of his ribs were relatively visible and his delicate skin was pockmarked and scarred. Her eyes widened at what she noticed next.

All along his arms were think, self inflicted cuts, each methodical and precise, the exact same length and depth as the other. Many were old scars, but some were new and freshly bandaged. She kept staring, thoughts spinning wildly in her head, wondering why the boy would do such a thing, when a frightened whimper from her patient and a snap from the Nightray boy brought her back to attention.

“Hey!” Elliot yelled. His arm had snaked around Leo and he was hugging his valet tightly, his bright blue eyes spitting fire at the doctor. “Aren’t you supposed to be listening to his lungs? In case you didn’t notice, he’s shaking and scared, so quit staring at my valet and do your damn job!”

“Elliot!” Thomas said, outraged. “You can’t-”

“It’s all right, Thomas,” Dr. Walsh said, nodding at the senior and then turning to Elliot and Leo. “Elliot’s right. I should be more focused. I apologize.”

“It’s fine,” Elliot said, but his lips were still pinched and his blue eyes full of anger. “Just listen to his lungs already.”

“Of course.” Dr. Walsh placed the buds of the stethoscope in her ears, then scooted to the edge of her seat to be closer to Leo. She breathed on the metal head of the stethoscope to make it warmer and smiled at the valet. “Sit up straight for me, Leo,” she instructed. “As straight as you can.”

With Elliot’s help, Leo sat up as much as possible, and a worried frown crossed the doctor’s face as Leo’s breathing immediately worsened. She noted, with a twinge of panic, that the boy was already taking belly breaths to help him breathe, the muscles in his neck and shoulders assisting in the effort as well. She needed to speed this examination up.

Chapter Text

Last chapter: She needed to speed this examination up.

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Leaning forward, she placed the stethoscope against Leo’s chest, and the boy flinched away, hissing.

“C-cold,” he stammered, clutching at Elliot.

“That’s cause you have a fever, dummy,” the Nightray boy chastised. “Now stay still and do what she tells you.”

“All right, Leo, I need you to take a deep breath for me. In.” Leo took a shaky breath, then stopped halfway.

“No more,” he said, breathing out again. “I can’t go any farther.”

“Can’t or won’t?” A faint blush crept up Leo’s paper white cheeks and he looked away from the doctor, biting his lip. “I know you’ll probably cough, Leo, but that’s okay. It’s okay. I still need to hear your lung sounds.”

“Come on,” Elliot urged, grabbing Leo’s hand and squeezing hard. “Don’t be stupid - take a deep breath.” Leo turned to Elliot, stared at him for a moment, and then nodded. One of Elliot’s trademark grins crossed his face, his eyes scrunching up at the edges. “Good. Then go ahead.”

Leo straightened up again, contorted his pale face into an expression of determination, then took as deep a breath as he could, the stethoscope resting on his chest. When Leo exhaled, his whoosh of breath was accompanied by a fierce coughing fit and he doubled over. Elliot and Dr. Walsh helped Leo sit up against the couch cushions, Elliot supporting his best friend as he coughed, Dr. Walsh packing her stethoscope away. Elliot turned to her, frowning.

“What? Are you done already?”

“Yes. I’m almost positive Leo has pneumonia. It’s quite serious too.” She turned to Thomas. “Thomas, why don’t you have Stephen ring the hospital?”

“What?” Thomas and Elliot proclaimed at the same time. “Why?”

“Relax, you two,” the doctor said. “I just want to get a chest x-ray to see how bad the infection is. He most likely won’t need to stay there.” She got to her feet. “On second thought, let me call them myself. Would you like me to send Stephen in, Thomas?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Thomas said, distracted by the coughing Leo resting in Elliot’s arms. “Bring him in.”

“All right.” The doctor walked to the door, but before she left the room, she turned back to the trio of boys. “Get him ready to go, would you? I would like to depart as soon as possible.” And she left, closing the door behind her.

Elliot immediately whipped to Thomas.

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Chapter Text

Last chapter: Elliot immediately whipped to Thomas.

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“What’s going on?” he demanded, rubbing Leo’s back in comforting circles. “What the hell? Does he really need to go to the hospital? He’s never been to the hospital before - I’ve never been to the hospital before!”

Thomas began to answer when Stephen entered the room, carrying a tray full of tea and small desserts (it being past nine o’clock, after all). He placed the tray on the table in front of Leo, who had now quieted, and then looked up at the two other students. He frowned at their expressions - all big eyes and pale faces. He cocked his head in confusion.

“Thomas-sama?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“She wants to take Leo to the hospital!” Elliot declared, and Stephen saw that the Nightray boy’s strong facade was crumbling, fear now evident in his blue eyes. “I didn’t think it was that bad.” He turned again to Thomas. “Did you?” he asked the senior.

Thomas shook his head, his red curls bobbing back and forth.

“No,” he muttered. “I thought he was really sick, but not that sick.” He stared at the head of messy black hair that was visible to him over the couch, slightly horrified. “I didn’t think. . .”

“Master Thomas,” Stephen interrupted, and he smiled reassuringly. “I mean no offense, but a trip to the hospital is not a death sentence. In fact, it’s not that bad. Did she say what she wanted Leo there for?”

“A chest x-ray,” Elliot said, and he pulled Leo close to him. Leo, limp and exhausted, rested his lolling head against Elliot’s collarbone. “And she said he didn’t need to stay overnight. So I guess it isn’t terrible.”

“It’s not,” Stephen said, smiling once again. “Everything will be fine.” He reached out and placed his strong hands on Elliot and Leo’s shoulders. “Everything will be just fine.”

“Yeah,” Elliot breathed, and, against his shoulder, he felt Leo nod. Elliot’s resolve strengthened and when he spoke next it was with his usual confidence. “Then let’s get him ready to go. I want as many blankets and coats as possible. Let’s keep my valet warm.” Thomas and Stephen stared at him for a few seconds and Elliot rolled his eyes. “Now!” he snapped. This sent the seniors into action.

Leo chuckled.

“You should be nicer, Elliot,” he rasped.

Elliot snorted in response.

“Nice? When have I ever been nice?”

Leo laughed again and Elliot’s heart soared, but it dropped seconds later when the laugh turned into a wet and rattling cough. Elliot sighed and pulled Leo impossibly close. Maybe a trip to the hospital wasn't too bad an idea after all.

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Chapter Text

Last chapter: Maybe a trip to the hospital wasn't too bad an idea after all.

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It was official.

Elliot hated hospitals.

He’d only been here ten minutes, but the entire atmosphere made him feel nervous and uneasy. The doctors and nurses were kind enough, but they flitted about so rapidly and spoke foreign medical words with too much ease and far too serious faces. The walls were painted a sterile white, a few paintings of wildflowers hanging over benches here and there. The place smelled like antiseptic and laundry detergent and it made Elliot’s nose scrunch up in disgust. He wished he didn’t have to be here - he wished Leo didn’t have to be here. Elliot sighed and laid his head back against the wall, clutching the blankets and coats he had brought with him closer to his chest.

They had arrived some twenty minutes ago and a few nurses and orderlies came to help Leo, who was bundled in layers of coats and scarves and blankets, out of the Nightray’s family carriage. The cold December air ripped coughs immediately out of Leo’s lungs and his face scrunched up in agony as if he was being torn apart from the inside out. Elliot’s heart squeezed painfully at the sight and the medical staff hurried Leo inside, sitting him in a chair. Elliot sat next to him, speaking soft and reassuring words as the hospital’s physicians went to speak with Dr. Walsh, who had accompanied them to the hospital. Leo’s coughs dropped off a few minutes later, and two nurses came over, prying Leo out of his warm layers and explaining that he needed to get a chest x-ray. Leo had nodded, almost out of it with fever and exhaustion, and allowed Elliot and the nurses to unwrap him. When he was back in just his normal school uniform, the nurses handed Elliot all the layers and helped Leo to his feet. They began to lead him away when he whined and called for Elliot. One of the nurses looked annoyed, but the other turned to the Nightray boy with a gentle smile, saying that he could follow them to radiology. This calmed both Leo and Elliot immediately.

Later, Leo had been ushered into a dark room with tinted windows so that you couldn’t see inside, and, when Elliot made to follow, the kinder nurse explained that he couldn’t come in because it was a safety hazard. Elliot began to argue, but the nurse, who was far too used to this kind of thing, repeated what she had said before, and told Elliot to wait outside. The dark windows really freaked Elliot out - he hated not being able to see his friend - and some strange sense of protectiveness and paranoia was creeping over him the longer Leo was gone. What if they were hurting him? What if something was going wrong and-?

“Elliot Nightray,” the kind nurse said, peeking her head out the door and smiling at him. Elliot stiffened immediately and got to his feet.

“Where’s my valet?” he asked. “Let me see him this instant!”

“Of course, Mr. Nightray. Come with me.” She closed the x-ray exam room door behind her and Elliot chased after her as she walked down the hallway.

“Why isn’t he in there?!” Elliot said, his heart beginning to beat fast. “He was in there the last time I saw him! Why isn’t he in there anymore? What happened to him? Where’d you-”

“Mr. Nightray, please calm down,” the nurse said, stopping in the hall and turning to face him. She held her hands out in front of her in a placating gesture and, for the first time, Elliot saw that she looked tired. “Your valet is perfectly all right. He fell asleep during the x-ray and we thought it best not to wake him, so he’s resting in a room nearby. There’s no need to worry.” A tired, reassuring smile pulled at the corner of her lips. “All right?”

Elliot nodded, suddenly feeling ridiculous for being so afraid of an x-ray examination and snapping at the nurse.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I meant no harm.”

A bright smile crossed the nurse’s lips this time and her eyes grew bright. Elliot figured she must not be used to people apologizing to her.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she said, beginning to walk down the tiled hallway again. “I understand. This is your first time at a hospital, right?” Elliot nodded. “I was frightened my first time too. But there’s nothing to be scared of. Leo should be just fine. In fact, I think you can take him home tonight.”

Elliot deflated in relief, all the tension melting off his shoulders. In all honesty, he had been worried that the doctors would insist on keeping Leo overnight. But, despite the fact it was around midnight now, Elliot was determined to take his best friend back to the Nightray manor for further care.

“Thank you,” Elliot said earnestly. “Thank you for being honest with me. What’s your name?”

“Noelle,” the nurse smiled.

“Thank you, Noelle,” he repeated. “Thank you for helping.”

“I’m just doing my job, Mr. Nightray.” She stopped in front of a wooden door with the number 129 painted on it. “Ah, here we are. After you.”

Elliot stepped into the room, his eyes skirting around. It was white and sterile like the rest of the hospital, but had a large window in the wall that overlooked a garden. A little potted plant rested on the windowsill, purple flowers blooming from the green stems, lending the room color. In the center of the room was a hospital bed, about the size of a twin bed, except that it had guardrails on the side. Elliot dashed to the bedside, his eyes skirting over his valet.

Leo was fast asleep, propped up by a few pillows, his black hair spread around him like a dark halo. Redressed in his loose shirt, baby blue blanket tossed across his legs, he seemed calm, although his breathing was still harsh and his face pinched with pain. Elliot’s gaze traveled to his friend’s hand and his eyes went wide.

A thin tube was taped to the back of Leo’s hand, the line leading to a bag of fluid hanging off a metal pole by the bed. Elliot turned to the nurse.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“An IV. He was dehydrated and that’s the quickest way to get fluids into him.”

“Are you going to take it out?” Elliot asked. He hated seeing the unnatural tubing laced through his best friend’s skin.

“When it’s time for you two to go, we will,” the nurse replied. She leaned over Leo, checking the injection site. “Although it’s probable the doctor will keep him on one at home.”

“What?” Elliot asked, eyes wide. “Why?”

“He hasn’t been keeping water or the medicine we’ve been giving him down,” Noelle answered, now turning to the IV bag. “He was having a bit of a rough time earlier.”

Elliot pulled up a chair by Leo’s bedside and plopped down in it, the coats and blankets tossed across his knees. His eyes flicked from Leo’s pale white face back to the nurse, who was fiddling with the flow pipe in the IV bag.

“He got sick?” Elliot asked, his voice quiet.

“Yes, but it’s not that unusual with serious cases of pneumonia. We were expecting it.”

“Was Leo all right?”

“A little shaken up, but mostly fine.” Noelle smiled. “He fell asleep right after we moved him in here.”

“How long has he been in here?”

“Only ten minutes.” There was a knock on the door, and the other nurse, the one a lot less friendly than Noelle, peeked her head in.

“Noelle,” she said, “the doctors want to speak with us. Come on.”

“Right away.” Noelle smiled briefly at Elliot. “We’ll be in the hall if anything comes up.”

*****************************

Chapter Text

Last chapter: “Right away.” Noelle smiled briefly at Elliot. “We’ll be in the hall if anything comes up.”

*************************************************************

Elliot nodded in thanks and the nurse left the tiny hospital room, closing the door behind her. When she was gone, Elliot sighed and sagged in his chair. His eyes flitted over his valet. It had never before occurred to him how protective he was of Leo until today. Elliot thought about how aggressive he had been with Thomas and Stephen, Doctor Walsh, and Noelle. When Elliot was scared, he was angry. He was angry in general, actually, but even more so when he was frightened. And when it came to Leo, he was more frightened of anything happening to him than anything else.

Elliot firmly believed that the orphaned teen was the most vulnerable person he had ever met and would do anything to protect him. Even though it was technically Leo’s job to protect his master, seeing a gun in Leo’s hands seemed fundamentally *wrong*, and so Elliot haughtily declared he didn’t need Leo to guard his ass - his sword could protect the both of them just fine. And it did.

The only thing the black blade didn’t slice through was illness. Colds and fevers knocked both master and valet down enough to be a hindrance, and for Elliot they were little more than annoyances. But for Leo. . . Elliot bit his lip and looked at his sleeping, pale friend. For Leo, they were hell.

The first time Leo had gotten really sick was the winter after he had moved into the Nightray mansion as Elliot’s valet. He had managed to catch the flu and had been in bed for at least four days and for the next week had dragged behind Elliot like a zombie. Elliot’s family had been furious with the “useless excuse for a valet,” but Elliot was just worried. When Elliot had caught the flu, he’d been in bed a few days, sure, but he hadn’t been weak and exhausted for the entire week after. Sometimes Leo could barely stand behind him at the dinner table without weaving. After that fiasco, Elliot was careful to make sure Leo didn’t get ill as often.

It worked - all the hand washing and orange juice and a laundry list of other things - and Leo’s health improved exponentially. Yet still, every winter, no matter what the great Elliot Nightray did, Leo came down with a bad cough, accompanied by a fever. It incapacitated the boy for a week, and, when he was finally out of bed, the cough lingered for a month. For the almost two years Elliot had known Leo, this happened every winter. It really pissed Elliot off, but it had never been a big deal.

Until now.

Chapter Text

Last chapter: Until now.

*********************

There was a knock on the door and Elliot turned as it was swung open, watching Noelle reenter, followed by Doctor Walsh. She had a large manila folder in her hands and she smiled when she saw Elliot next to the bed.

“I thought I’d find you here, Mr. Nightray,” she said. She walked to the wall across from Leo’s bed and flicked on a light switch which illuminated a clear board. She continued to speak to Elliot as she clipped the x-ray films up onto the board. “Why don’t you wake Leo up for me so we can all have a chat?”

Elliot made a face at the word “chat” - it seemed too informal for this environment. A “chat” was how you talked about Holy Knight’s tropes in the sitting room, or how you discussed idle news while lounging in the grass. “Chat” didn’t belong here. Because this wasn’t going to be some casual talk about soccer over breakfast - this was a serious conversation about Leo’s health.

But Elliot didn’t say anything. He just leaned forward and grabbed Leo’s hand - the one free of the IV - and shook it gently.

“Wake up, idiot,” he admonished, his voice quiet. “We want to talk.” Leo’s eyebrows drew together in his sleep and Elliot shook his hand again, prompting him more firmly out of his dream. “Wake up, Leo.”

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Elliot, Leo peeled his eyes open. Or at least he thought he did - Elliot couldn’t see under the thick glasses. When Leo turned his head towards Elliot, the Nightray grinned.

“Good morning, dumbass. Rise and shine!”

Leo made a face.

“Shut up, Elliot,” he said, but Elliot could hear the laughter in his voice. Relief flooded him. He leaned forward, propping his elbows up on the mattress.

“So, how are you feeling?”

Leo shrugged and rubbed at his sore throat.

“The same,” he rasped. “No worse, no better.”

“I guess that’s all right,” Elliot said, but he was disappointed. He was hoping Leo would have made at least a little bit of an improvement with the small amount of sleep he had gotten. Elliot looked up and made eye contact with the doctor, who was standing by the wall with a patient smile.

“Leo,” she said, and, when Leo turned towards her voice, she gave a cheery little wave. “Hello, again. It’s good to see you up.”

Leo just nodded.

“Well, thanks for sitting through that chest x-ray for us. It was very helpful.” She turned to the board and flicked on the lights, illuminating sharply the black and white x-ray films. Elliot gasped.

“Whoa,” he breathed. “Are those Leo’s ribs?”

“Yes,” Doctor Walsh said, and she raised a finger and motioned to the black space underneath the prominently displayed white ribs. “And here’s your lungs, Leo.”

“Are they supposed to look like that?”

“Yes, except for this cloudy part right here. Right in the lower lobe of your left lung.”

“What is it?” Leo rasped, coughing for a moment. He reached for Elliot’s hand and Elliot caught Leo’s fingers in his own, squeezing tight in reassurance.

“It’s an infection,” the doctor explained. A deep frown settled on her face. “And a very serious one too, I’m afraid.”

Elliot’s mouth went dry.

“What?” he asked. “How serious?”

“Nothing critical, I’m glad to say,” the doctor said, “so you won’t have to stay here, Leo, but it should keep you off your feet for at least a month.”

“A month?!” Elliot declared. Leo, annoyingly, added, “But what about finals?”

Elliot slapped his arm.

“Forget about finals, dumbass. You’re sick - you’ll be excused from them.”

Leo made a face, but Elliot ignored him, turning again to the doctor.

“So what do we need to do?”

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Chapter Text

Last Chapter: “So what do we need to do?”

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“Well, once you get Leo home, I would like him to be on bed rest for at least a week.” Leo groaned in annoyance, but Elliot simply nodded, filing away the information. “For the week after that, you can take small walks around the manor, Leo, but you can’t go outside. The cold weather might do you more harm than good. And the two weeks after that should just be the gradual road to recovery.” Doctor Walsh smiled. “Does that sound all right?”

Both boys nodded.

“Good. I’m going to write up some prescriptions for you, Leo, while Noelle here gets you ready to go. When I’m done with the medicines, I’ll come back and escort you two back to the Nightray mansion, if that’s all right?” Elliot nodded and the doctor left the room with a bright and reassuring smile, closing the door behind her. The moment she was gone, Leo coughed, his grip on Elliot’s hand tightening. Elliot sighed.

“You’ll get better soon, dumbass,” he said with forced smile.

“But I have to be on bedrest.”

“That does suck,” Elliot conceded, “but at least you don't have to stay here. We get to go home now - you can sleep in your own bed.”

Leo nodded, his chin bobbing gently against his chest. He raised his hand to scratch at his nose but paused and stared when he caught sight of the IV line.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

“It’s an IV,” Noelle explained, and Elliot jumped when he heard her voice; he’d almost forgotten she was there. “You weren’t keeping water down, remember?” Leo blushed and nodded. “So we put that line in there to get you some fluids. We didn’t want you getting dehydrated.”

“Thank you,” Leo said, trying to smile to the nurse. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“No trouble at all, Leo,” she said, grabbing some gauze and medical tape. “Now, let’s take out that IV, shall we?”

Within a few minutes, Noelle had slipped the thin tube out of the back of Leo’s hand and taped a wad of gauze to the bleeding skin. Tossing the extra tape and used needle aside, she began to clean up the room of medical supplies as Elliot helped Leo out of the bed. The Nightray got Leo sitting up and was tying his shoes for him as Leo slipped on his uniform jacket.

When they were finished, Leo had been through several coughing fits and was now breathless. He grabbed Elliot’s hand and the Nightray boy pulled himself to his feet and sat himself next to Leo, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Noelle frowned in unease, watching Leo breathe. He shouldn’t be so breathless after such a simple task and a few coughing fits. She excused herself and reappeared a few minutes later with Doctor Walsh. The doctor was frowning deeply.

“What’s going on here, boys?” she asked, taking in Leo’s large sips of air and Elliot’s worried face. “Is everything all right?”

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Last chapter: “What’s going on here, boys?” she asked, taking in Leo’s large sips of air and Elliot’s worried face. “Is everything all right?”

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“Y-Yeah,” Leo stammered. “I’m just tired. I would like to go home.”

The doctor crouched in front of Leo, taking in his pale, flushed face, cracked lips, and whistling breaths. She bit her lip.

“Leo,” she began, “I think we should keep you here for-”

“No!” both boys cried out simultaneously. The nurse and doctor blinked, taken aback.

“No!” Elliot yelled again, pulling Leo closer to him. “I’m taking him home. My valet is going home with me. And he’s going tonight.”

“Mr. Nightray-” Doctor Walsh began, but this time Leo interrupted her.

“Please,” he rasped, and the begging tone in his voice cut the doctor to the core. “Please, Doctor Walsh. Please let me go home with Elliot.” He began coughing, the coughs ripped from deep inside his chest. “Pl-please,” he choked. “Pl-l-l-lease.”

Leo doubled over suddenly, still coughing, and his hands flew to Elliot’s chest. The Nightray caught the bony fingers in one of his hands with ease, proceeding to bend over Leo and rubbing his back with the other.

“Leo? Leo, calm down, buddy, it’s all right.” He kissed the top of Leo’s raven head and then turned to Doctor Walsh and Noelle, his sharp blue eyes throwing daggers. Noelle took a step back and Doctor Walsh flinched at the venom and subtle threat hidden in his gaze. “You’re going home with me. Isn’t that right, Doctor Walsh?”

“Y-Yes,” Doctor Walsh agreed after a moment’s hesitation. “Yes, you’re going home tonight, Leo. I have all your prescriptions filled - we’re ready to go when you are.”

She looked up at Elliot, who had deflated with obvious relief, but whose eyes were still fierce and almost frightening. Doctor Walsh placed her hand over her heart, which was racing. Had she just been intimidated by a fifteen year old boy? Had those blue eyes changed her decision to keep Leo in the hospital? No, she reasoned, not completely. Leo’s utter panic at the thought of being kept here also swayed her to send her patient home. But, oh God, Elliot’s eyes. Those bright blue eyes. Never had Doctor Walsh come across such protectiveness and love. She knew then in her heart that Elliot Nightray would do anything to keep Leo safe. And if that meant defying doctor’s orders, then so be it. Doctor Walsh blinked at the thought that Elliot was probably the person who knew Leo best. Maybe she should start taking this boy more seriously…

“Did you hear that, buddy?” Elliot said to Leo, squeezing his fingers. “The doctor says you can go home now.” Leo continued coughing, but squeezed Elliot’s hand in response, showing that he had heard him. “Are you glad about that?”

Leo bobbed his head, but the furious wet coughs still came, wrenching terrible breaths and even the occasional cry from Leo’s lips. Elliot turned to the doctor, and when she saw that Elliot’s angry blue eyes had softened into a semblance of fear, she dared to move closer to Leo.

“Sit up now, Leo,” she ordered, grabbing Leo’s elbows and helping him straighten up. Leo cried out in protest and gripped Elliot’s hand harder. “I know how much it hurts,” the doctor soothed, “but it’ll be easier for you to breathe if you’re sitting up. Can you do that for me?”

Leo nodded and tried to straighten up, but once he began to cough again, he sagged immediately.

“Elliot,” Doctor Walsh said, “help him sit up, would you? And Noelle, please fetch a bowl of hot water. Make sure it’s steaming.”

“Right away, Doctor.”

The nurse left the room and Elliot snaked his arm across Leo’s back, hooking his hand under Leo’s armpit to keep him sitting up. Doctor Walsh, kneeling in front of Leo, tried to coach him gently through the coughing fit as Elliot muttered words of encouragement. The coughs kept coming, however, and when Elliot saw tears begin to slip down Leo’s cheeks, his heart did a flip. He pulled his friend closer to him and nestled his face in his dark black hair.

“Leo, it’s all right,” he said, “it’s all right. Calm down now.”

“El-Elliot….”

“Shh, I know. You’re doing great though. It’s almost over. Just keep breathing and listening to the doctor. I’m right here. It’s going to be okay.”

Leo nodded and clutched Elliot’s hand, almost doubling over with the next cough. If it wasn't for Elliot’s grip around his back, he might have even fallen off the edge of the bed.

“Whoa,” Doctor Walsh said, helping Elliot ease Leo back up into a sitting position. “It’s okay, Leo. Just try to stay upright for me. Lean against Elliot.” She looked meaningfully at the Nightray boy, who scooted back and held Leo against his chest, his best friend’s head nudged across his collarbone. Leo continued to cough, and Elliot could tell he was beginning to hurt, given how he was tensing up and shaking. He began rubbing Leo’s chest in gentle circles, continuing to mutter platitudes and reassurances, all the while mildly freaking out. He looked up at the doctor, who began to speak when Noelle reentered the room, carrying a large basin of steaming water in her hands.

“Ah, thank goodness, Noelle,” Doctor Walsh said, “why don't you put that on the tray there and roll it over.”

The nurse looked over at Leo and Elliot, frowning when she saw that the boy wasn't doing any better. In fact, he almost looked worse.

“How are we doing, Leo?” she asked, rolling the tray towards the hospital bed. At Elliot’s glare and silent answer, she shut up and simply proceeded to explain what the bowl was for. “We’re going to have you lean over this bowl here, Leo, and you’ll just try your best to breathe in the steam. It’ll help make it easier for you to breathe and hopefully stop this really bad coughing fit.” She laid her hand on the top of Leo’s head in reassurance and nodded at Elliot; he nodded back in understanding. With Elliot’s help, the nurse got Leo leaning over the bowl and all three proceeded to coach the terrified fifteen year old through breathing. Eventually, much to Elliot’s immense relief, Leo’s coughs began to lessen in intensity and then dropped off completely. Leo, completely exhausted, fell limp against Elliot’s chest, his hand fisting weakly in Elliot’s shirt.

“There’s a good boy,” Doctor Walsh praised, rolling the tray and hot water away. “Very good, Leo.”

“Don’t talk to him like that,” Elliot snapped. “He’s not a damn dog.” He rested his hand against Leo’s chest, trying to smile reassuringly at his friend. “You did great, Leo. I know that sucked, but we’re done now. We’re going to go home.” He turned to Doctor Walsh and she saw the warning in his eyes, daring her to say anything to the contrary. When the doctor simply nodded and smiled, Elliot deflated in relief.

“Yes, Leo, it’s time to go home now.”

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Last chapter: “Yes, Leo, it’s time to go home now.”

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Elliot, Leo, and Doctor Walsh arrived at the Nightray manor at around two o’ clock in the morning after a long carriage ride with little incident. Leo had a few small coughing fits, but otherwise he slept calmly against Elliot, curled up against his chest. Elliot had eyes only for Leo and spoke to him while the valet was awake and otherwise said nothing to Doctor Walsh, who was sitting across from them, watching Leo carefully.

When they arrived at the mansion, one of the servants came out to greet them, lantern held aloft. They helped Elliot out of the carriage first, keeping him steady as he refused to let go of Leo. Doctor Walsh then followed them inside, her eyes huge at the gaudiness of this incredible mansion with its stone busts, many portraits, and marble tiled entrance hall. No surprise for one of the four great dukedoms. Elliot then led them up the stairs, Leo held carefully in his arms, and Doctor Walsh followed silently, her steps muffled by a richly carpeted floor. Once on the third floor, Elliot excused the servant and made the way to the end of the hall by himself. Pushing open a large white door, he stepped inside, expecting Doctor Walsh to follow him in.

She gaped again. If she suspected correctly, this was the Nightray boy’s room, with painted baby blue walls and a large king sized bed in the middle of the room. A rich mahogany armoire with matching tables was set on the opposite side of the room, the armoire slightly open and the tables littered with sheet music and stray papers. A collection of books was stacked neatly on the nightstand by the bed, obviously treasured and adored if the worn spines were anything to go by. A floor to ceiling window, draped with dark blue velvet curtains, led to a balcony outside. Extra pairs of scuffed shoes lay by the window, some shoe polish beside them. Doctor Walsh smiled at the room, welcoming its familiarity and comfort, and knew immediately that her patient would be far more comfortable here.

But she frowned when she saw only the one bed. Surely this wasn’t Leo’s room? It was far too extravagant to be the room of a valet. Her thoughts were confirmed when Elliot laid Leo down on the feather soft mattress and Leo immediately whined.

“Elliot, no,” he protested, his voice cracking. “Not your bed. Mine.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Elliot said, keeping Leo still. “You’re going to stay here. This room has more sunlight. Besides, my bed is far more comfortable than yours.”

“Where you gonna sleep?”

“Eh,” Elliot shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. For now, though, you’re gonna sleep right here, okay?”

“Elliot….”

“Stop complaining,” Elliot ordered. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m your master anyway - you’re supposed to do what I say, remember?”

Leo made a face at Elliot, but listened to him anyway, proceeding to calm down and relax into the mattress. With a grin, Elliot ruffled Leo’s hair and then turned to the doctor.

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Last chapter: Leo made a face at Elliot, but listened to him anyway, proceeding to calm down and relax into the mattress. With a grin, Elliot ruffled Leo’s hair and then turned to the doctor.

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“So, are we okay?”

“Not quite yet,” Doctor Walsh responded, “I have an IV for you, Leo, and then some instructions. I should be done soon so that you both can rest. Is that all right?” Both boys nodded. “Great. Then, Mr. Nightray, I would like your assistance in helping me get Leo comfortable and setting up this IV. I think you should know how it works.”

Elliot swallowed the lump in his throat and looked over at Leo, who had relaxed almost completely into the mattress, and would have seemed comfortable if not for the creases on his brow and rough breathing. Elliot reached out a hand and ran it up and down Leo’s arm, nodding at the doctor.

“All right,” he said. “Teach me.”

“First things first, let’s get Leo out of this school uniform, shall we? I’m sure that’s not the most comfortable thing for you.” Leo shook his head and Doctor Walsh smiled.

“I’ll get your nightshirt, Leo,” Elliot said. “Is it still in your trunk?”

Leo shook his head.

“’S at school,” he rasped.

Elliot groaned in annoyance.

“And you don't have another?!”

“No.”

“What the hell?” Elliot was angry, but mostly at himself for not realizing Leo only had one simple nightshirt. “Ugh. It looks like you’ll be wearing one of mine then.”

“What?” Leo cried, and, underneath his glasses, Elliot could picture his eyes becoming comically wide. “No!”

“Yes! Don't be an idiot, Leo.” Elliot stalked over to his armoire and pulled out a soft cotton nightshirt, one with only a few buttons on the front and cuffs - the simplest one he had. He knew simplicity was Leo’s favorite thing and would make him feel safest and most comfortable. “Here we go! This one should work just fine.”

“Elliot, no,” Leo said, shaking his head. “Not your bed and your clothes. It’s embarrassing.”

“Psh. Don’d be stupid, Leo. You’re really sick and I want you to have my bed. And besides, I’m not having you rest in that school uniform.” He wrinkled his nose. “Those things are uncomfortable enough as it is.”

Leo, however, continued to shake his head. With a sigh, Elliot seated himself on the edge of the bed.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, “how about you wear this for the night and first thing tomorrow morning I’ll have someone go buy a new one for you. Is that all right?”
Leo hesitated and for a moment Elliot thought he was going to say no, but then he nodded. Elliot grinned in triumph.

“Good. Then you’re going to wear this tonight?”

“Yeah.”

Elliot smiled and turned to Doctor Walsh, who nodded in approval.

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Last chapter: “Good. Then you’re going to wear this tonight?”

“Yeah.”

Elliot smiled and turned to Doctor Walsh, who nodded in approval.

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“All right now, Leo,” she said, “can Elliot and I help get you changed?” Despite being very pale, Leo managed to turn a bright pink and furiously shook his head. Doctor Walsh sighed. “How about just me, then? I can send Elliot away.”

Leo turned his head to Elliot, considered him for a moment, and then nodded. Elliot huffed in annoyance, and began to speak when Leo cut him off.

“Elliot,” he said, “would you get my blanket from my room?”

Elliot nodded in agreement, still mildly annoyed at Leo, but eager to be of use.

“Sure thing, buddy. How about I also get your lion for you?” He winked, knowing that Leo had been trying to keep that stuffed animal a secret for as long as he knew him.

Leo looked surprised, turned even pinker, and began to speak, but Elliot just laughed and left the room before Leo could get a word out. When he closed the door behind him, he took a big, shaky breath, trying to regain his composure. The coughing fit at the hospital had managed to terrify both of them. For a while Elliot was fully convinced that his best friend would hack his lungs out on the floor before the hellish coughing fit ended. But, luckily, under the doctor’s watch and nurse’s care, Leo eventually stopped. Elliot was flooded with relief and the iron grip around his heart eased a little. And, now that they were home, Elliot hoped the grip would continue to let up until it was completely gone.

With a sigh, Elliot turned the corner and pushed open the door to Leo’s room, sighing more heavily when he caught sight of the sparse decorations. It hardly looked like anyone lived here. A single bed lay in the corner, a purple quilt tossed over the white comforter, two white pillows and a purple one laid neatly on top. There was a small armoire containing a few simple suits in one corner and a little desk in the other, a little bottle of ink on the edge of the table. A small and shabby bookshelf that Elliot had made for Leo’s birthday sat next to the desk, the only thing that was stuffed completely full. Elliot made his way to the bed, grabbing the quilt and purple pillow, then reached behind the bookshelf, pulling an old stuffed animal from behind it. It was a small, worn lion, with soft fur that was nearly rough from all the times the toy had been dragged around and then washed. The fuzzy mane was in knots and a few of its whiskers were missing, but it was obvious the toy was loved and Leo tried to take good care of it.

Elliot had discovered the toy completely by accident. One day he was searching Leo’s room for a piece of sheet music he had lost and, when he reached behind the bookshelf for the paper, his fingers had discovered a fuzzy, soft object. Elliot had jumped back with a startled, undignified squeal, thinking at first he had accidentally found a mouse, but when he moved the shelf forward a little bit, he found the stuffed animal. He had blinked a few times, surprised, before a wicked smile crossed his face. He could use this against Leo. So, so much. But he had never had the chance. Also, considering the fact that he still had his baby blanket stashed in his closet, and that Leo probably knew about it, he figured antagonizing Leo about the stuffed animal would probably invite insults about that. So he left the issue alone.

But now Elliot grabbed the toy with a gentle and earnest smile, figuring the lion would be a comfort to Leo, and nudged it into the crook of his arm.

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