Warning

I moved a matted piece of hair away from my face as Sid led me through his door, taking my coat off despite protests from me that it was too cold. But as soon as the complaint left me lips, it was soothed over as he put his hoodie over my head and I wriggled into it slowly. My head was still in a foggy haze, my fever seemingly escalating in the warmth of the car.

I felt two hands on my shoulders as he steered me upstairs, changing his position to my side as we ventured up to the guest room. I plopped on the bed, my head hitting the pillow in an instant. “You’re not allowed to go to sleep yet.” He said and I tried to roll my eyes, the end result being that I just closed them and began to drift off again. He didn’t protest immediately, but in what seemed like ten minutes, I was shaken awake.

I peered at him through half-closed eyes, watching as he held out a pair of light blue pajama pants which I recognized as my own and an oversized CROSBY t-shirt. I laughed a little and I could see his mouth twitch, as if he was trying to hide a smile. He then handed me a bottle of Nyquil and instructed me to take a hot shower and I laughed again. “Okay, Dr. Crosby.” I said, moving out of bed in a sort of haze. He steadied me and I shrugged, mumbling that I was fine before heading off in the direction of the bathroom.

The prescription of Nyquil and a shower seemed to be a step in the right direction because when I returned, dressed in my pale blue cotton pants and the t-shirt that went down to my knees, my desire to sleep had been lifted. I grabbed the box of tissues, burrowed deep inside the covers and flipped on the television. Almost seconds later, the door to my room burst open and Lucy—who was growing rounder and rounder—flopped on my bed with Sidney trailing behind. “Why aren’t you sleeping?!” she practically shrieked and tried to snatch the remote away from me, but I rolled over on top of it so that I was now face down on the bed. Lucy gave me a push and I could hear Sid laugh in the back. “I brought treats!” she then said and I immediately rolled back, keeping the remote at a hesitant distance away. Sure enough, Lucy was sitting there with a CVS bag full of chocolate, diet coke, the chocolate covered shortbread cookies I liked, and a few Kinder Bueno bars she had stolen from Marc, apparently.

I grabbed a bag of Hershey’s kisses and ripped it open eagerly, noticing that Sid had vanished. My blue eyes turned to Lucy and she shrugged, grabbing a couple chocolates before motioning for me to scoot over.

“Absolutely not, Lucy. You need to leave.” I said, trying to keep my weak voice stern. Lucy just glared at me and told me again to move over, throwing a Hershey Kiss wrapper at my head. I shook my head. “Alright, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re PREGNANT. Marc knocked you up and you’re gonna have a lil’ baby Flower. I’ve done enough gynie squad rotations to know that pregnant women need to stay away from sick people like we have the plague.” I said firmly, grabbing my bag of candy away from her. Sidney had walked in towards the end of my lecture holding a tray of food and Lucy got up from the bed grudgingly.

“Try not to kill her, Crosby.” She said, casting me another look that for a second seemed to be a smirk. I hurled a Hershey’s Kiss at her head and sank down in bed. Sid shook his head, but I could see that he was smiling.

“Listen, Sid, this is really nice but I’m so much better now and I think I should get back to the hospital.” I said in a sniffle and he set the tray down over me. Fruit Loops, toast, and orange juice. It was my turn now to shake my head. “Look at you. First date and you’ve already got me in bed. “ I said, putting the bag of chocolate on the tray table while he laughed.

“Max Talbot’s had a remarkable influence on me.” He said, motioning for me to scoot over. I budged and he laid on top of the covers, extraordinarily close to me as we watched No Reservations.

“I’m going to get you sick.” I said after three minutes of laying in comfortable silence. He shrugged.

“That would be a real shame, especially considering how many games I have to play so soon.” He said with a smile. I looked at him, trying to read his face as he stared at the television, but it was impenetrable.

“So how do you really feel?” I asked slowly, watching his reaction. He frowned deeply, shaking his head. I could almost imagine the light flickering out of his hazel eyes and becoming cold and deep. I had known him long enough to know that it wasn’t out of anger, but the look he got when discussing something serious about hockey, like he was deep in though. But he turned his head to me and gave me a smile.

“I should be asking you that, you’re the patient today.” He replied and I casually took a bite of my cereal.

“No, I mean seriously. Obviously something is bothering you, and it can’t be the fact that I’m here because clearly, I am such great company.” I said, shoving another four chocolates in my mouth before throwing him a look. I could see his mouth twitch in another smile before fading away. He shrugged.

“It’s frustrating, you know. The guys look so tired and I want to help, but I can’t do anything at all. I just put on my suit, sit down in Mario’s box and cheer them on but I’m not doing anything remotely beneficial. “ he admitted, his eyes glued on the television now. I nodded slowly, trying to think of not being able to cut for months on end with no end in sight. A surge of guilt flooded through me when I realized that the reason he felt so useless was at least partially my fault. Everybody else had cleared him. Maybe the reporters were right, maybe our relationship did in fact change my diagnosis. If he had been a total stranger, would I have cleared him? Or did I carry around this false idea of professionalism that was really just feelings for him?

“Maybe I should have cleared you.” I said finally after a moment of silence. He looked at me quickly, shaking his head resolutely.

“No, Violet. I’m not—“ he paused, looking for a way to phrase whatever he was about to say. “—I’m not saying that I’m better and fixed and that I’m frustrated by not being able to play when I should be able to. I can’t play. I feel slower when I can get on the ice, the plays don’t formulate as quickly in my head—I know that I’m not better yet. I guess that’s part of the irritation, you know? I don’t know when I’m going to get better. It’s all on me. It’s not like you can do anything, or your attending.” He paused and looked at me and I suddenly remembered about my big surgery. But at that moment, I wouldn’t even trade a tumor the size of Texas for being where I was. I nodded to show comprehension, that he wasn’t just talking for his own benefit.

“When I was in the hospital last year and I couldn’t cut, it was incredibly aggravating. And I had physical, tangible injuries. I could see them heal, feel everything become better.” I smiled a little. “I’m surprised you haven’t shot up the locker room or something by now. I’d go mental.” I said and he laughed, running a hand through his hair and leaning back against the headboard. He looked over at me and I felt an unexplainable rush to kiss him. Maybe it was my fever growing stronger, but it took all my energy to divert my gaze and stare at the screen. His hand moved closer to me and for a second I thought he was going to touch me, but at the last second he grabbed the tray.

“Done?” he asked and I nodded, suddenly feeling sleepy. He smiled a little, grabbed the tray, and set it on the nightstand next to him. I felt my eyes begin to grow heavy and I felt them close against my will, wanting nothing more than to stay up and talk to him. I felt an arm wrap around me, drawing me near as I rested my head on his chest. After the months of agony and fiery resent, we were exactly where we should have been all along.