[flashback] sick day

[2goodarms]

A decade isn't enough time for illnesses to evolve from their pre-freeze state. So many of them start the same way they always have: with a chill. A lot of times, people don't even know they're sick. What's feeling a little colder than usual, needing to curl up a little tighter under your allotted blanket?

So Curtis doesn't know, for a good forty-eight hours, until the shivering doesn't quit even after Gilliam loans him two more blankets. As soon as Tanya feels his forehead, he's whisked away to the very back of the Tail, stumbling a little as the train heaves along the tracks. Everything's tilted just a little too far off-kilter, and weaves just a little too sharply whenever they go over a bump. He's grateful when he finally has a chance to sit down.

...Actually, maybe he'll lie down for a bit. Yeah. Just a couple minutes.

Comments

[hate_gettin_older]

The water's warm enough to send up a few wisps of steam, which gradually start to smell of the protein block. Edgar finds his mouth watering; he has to remind himself firmly that he's already had his.

[snowpiercer_npcs]

Curtis is too sick to put on a brave face; he scowls as the smell reaches his nose, but doesn't comment.

"Okay," says Evie after a time. "Ready?"

"No."

Rolling her eyes, she sets the jug next to him and moves to prop up his head. "Edgar, help me get his pillow on the other side?"

[hate_gettin_older]

"Sure," he says, hopping down from his perch and circling to where Evie indicates.

It's nearer to the sickbed than he's gotten yet, and he's a little disquieted at the close-up sight of Curtis's pallor and reddened eyes.

He'll be fine, he tells himself.

[2goodarms]

He doesn't have to see it for long: mindful of their earlier discussion, Curtis turns his face away so he's not breathing on Edgar.

"Okay," says Evie again after they've got him situated. She brings the jug to his mouth, tips it just enough for Curtis to swallow a mouthful. He sputters at first, suppressing a gag, but...

She's right. It's not that bad. Maybe it's just because he's sick as hell and hasn't eaten in two days, or maybe diluting it down like that really does help.

Either way, pretty soon Curtis is gulping down the broth like he's found a source of unrationed water.

[hate_gettin_older]

And Edgar's grinning, as pleased as though he'd managed it all himself.

"Can you do that with cold water too?" he asks Evie.

[snowpiercer_npcs]

"You can try," says Evie, "but it's a lot more difficult. Heat helps soften the block a little more so it's easier to blend with the water."

Curtis briefly comes up for air, coughs out a short breath, then continues drinking the broth. The makeshift bowl's three-quarters empty by now.

[hate_gettin_older]

He nods. Somewhere in his head he's working out whether there's any way to scrounge up some more hot water for Curtis; maybe he can find something to trade for it.

[snowpiercer_npcs]

Soon after, Curtis swallows down the last mouthful of broth. He sags back; Evie eases him down to the pillow, and nods to Edgar to do the same.

"Better?" she asks Curtis. He manages a weak nod.

[hate_gettin_older]

"Still queasy?" Edgar asks, with the careful intonation of a newly learned word.

[2goodarms]

He tries to shrug, and only manages the tiniest hitch to one shoulder. "A little. S'not as bad."

[snowpiercer_npcs]

"Maybe you just needed to get a little food in you," says Evie. Curtis rolls his eyes; she ignores it. "We'll try the rest of the protein block in a couple hours if you're up to it."

[hate_gettin_older]

"What else can we do?" Edgar bounces on his toes again, looking up at her.

(He wants to ask her what people used to do when they got sick, before the train. He knows Evie isn't one of the grownups who likes to talk about before, though, even if she isn't one of the ones who'll swear at you or try to hit you if you ask.)

[snowpiercer_npcs]

"Let him rest," she says: a little wry, a little more pointed. "If it's the same virus that's been going around, it'll clear up on its own in a week as long as he's comfortable."

[2goodarms]

Curtis looks dismayed. "A week?"

[hate_gettin_older]

"A week?" Edgar protests, in almost exactly the same tone.

[snowpiercer_npcs]

Her voice edges back to the sternness of before. "Yes, a week, and it'll be longer if you get back to work before you're healed up. We're going to let your body repair itself and we're not gonna complain about it. Understood?"

[2goodarms]

Curtis sighs, and closes his eyes.

"Yeah," he mumbles.

[hate_gettin_older]

"I'll pick up your food," Edgar volunteers, "and I can keep people away from your bunk so nobody bothers you while you're resting."

[2goodarms]

Curtis cracks a smile, eyes still closed. "Thanks."

[snowpiercer_npcs]

"But," interjects Evie, "I want to keep you back here for another day or two so I can keep an eye on you."

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar scowls -- he can keep an eye on Curtis just fine -- but doesn't object, if only for fear of being evicted from the vicinity himself.

[2goodarms]

"Couple days is fine," he says, as if he could see Edgar's scowl. Curtis tries, and fails, to stifle a yawn. "Be okay after that."

[hate_gettin_older]

He nods quickly. "Sure you will."

Because -- well, because he will, that's all. This kind of sick isn't dangerous, not really.

[2goodarms]

"Yeah."

Half-mumbled.

[snowpiercer_npcs]

Evie tests the compress -- it's lost most of its cold, but remains damp enough to be useful -- before shifting it back to his forehead. She looks up at Edgar.

"I think it's best you let him sleep for now."