He's been sleeping hard lately, after falling into bed at increasingly later hours. It seems like everyday he's got to stay working longer, and the past few days have seen him come home, eat a small bit of whatever Kate's made, then drop into bed.
The alarm feels like it goes off too soon, and he knocks it from the nightstand turning it off.
Finding the bed beside him empty he expects the smell of coffee to be coming in from down the hallway, and is irritated when he realizes it isn't. Hearing water running he guesses Kate got back late from her run.
He heads for the kitchen to tell her he'll just grab something to eat on the way to the department, but she isn't there when he walks in. It isn't until he's rounding the table to turn off the sink that he sees her laying prone on the floor.
Heart leaping high into his throat he drops to his knees beside her.
Heart beating too hard and too fast, the first thing he does is make sure she's breathing. Then he checks for blood; fighting hard to quell his rising panic.
"Kate, honey, y'-- "
Carefully reaching out, his hand touches her cheek and he flinches when he feels the heat coming off of it. Her forehead is worse and with the sweat that's drenching her he knows she's got a dangerous fever.
"Kate, please, darlin'... "
His mind is racing, and mixed up with all his thoughts for action is Oh God, don't--
Glancing around quickly he spots a dishtowel hanging on the back of a chair. Snatching it, he rises to thrust it under the running water, shutting off the faucet, he wrings it hastily then brings it to wipe her forehead.
She needs a doctor.
Carefully he untangles her and lays her out flat on her back. Rolling the towel up, he lays it across her forehead and gets up to go grab the phone.
"Just-- just hang on a sec, Kate. S'gonna be fine."
She's from a different world.
He stares at the phone in his hand, and looks down at her, and he suddenly doesn't know what to do.
He sets the phone on the table and is down beside her on the floor again.
Ignoring the fear twisted in his guts, he focuses on what he needs to do to help her.
"S'alright. We're gonna get you looked at."
Carefully he picks her up into his arms. Heat is pouring off of her and he can feel her burning up through the thin cotton of his T-shirt. The dishtowel stays in place as he rises and heads for the bedroom.
That fuckin' door better be workin'--
If the bar doesn't show up he's going to make the call, and figure out what the hell to tell them later.
She's overcooked spaghetti in his arms, boneless and covered in goosebumps.
She makes a muffled sound of protest when he stands; the black behind her closed eyes swirls, expanding and contracting, stealing her sense of equilibrium. Her breath catches and one hand fists weakly at his shirt without finding purchase.
She's limp like a doll, and when she murmurs he holds her closer, cradeling her head against his shoulder.
"Early?" As they pass the bathroom he thinks about giving her something, but decides it's better to leave it to the doctor. Someone has to be in the infirmary, or around the bar who can help.
His chest is a solid pillow next to her sweaty cheek, warm where the towel is cool.
She isn't sure if she nods or only thinks she does, but when she turns her head into his shoulder, she can feel damp strands of hair that escaped her ponytail rasping over her skin.
She's so tired; she only wants to go back to sleep, but isn't there something important she's forgotten?
Caught between falling and floating, she mumbles into his torso.
He's barefoot and dressed for sleep, but doesn't even think about stopping to change when they reach the bedroom. Heading straight for the closet, he wills with everything he has that it opens up to Milliways.
Hearing her say Marie causes a new cold wave of concern to wash over him, and he forces himself to keep a reaction from his voice and expression.
"S'gonna be fine, I promise."
Adjusting her carefully, he reaches out for the closet door handle.
She's on a crowded Cairo sidewalk, squinting as she looks for her sister.
She shades her eyes against the sun, but she doesn't see Marie or her familiar red backpack with its pony patch and teddy bear keychain.
But god, it's so hot; the white blouse of her school uniform is sticking to the small of her back, and her skirt feels like a second skin around her thighs -- she can barely concentrate, struggling to pick her way through the throngs of passersby.
Her chest tightens. She can't lose Marie, she can't.
"No, she -- no."
She shudders in Bill's arms, and her glassy eyes open, wide and desperate.
He takes his hand back from the door to secure his hold on her.
"Kate-- "
Trying to catch her gaze with his, he keeps his voice calm and firm. A bead of sweat runs down her cheek, and he has no idea how high her temperature is right now.
"Kate, you're alright. You're here with me. I'm with you."
Cuddy's on duty in the infirmary today - not officially, but since she's in the bar and not in her office, she figures she might as well lend a hand where it's needed and give some of the other doctors a break.
Right now, it's quiet, but if running a hospital has taught her anything, it won't be that way for very long.
The alarm feels like it goes off too soon, and he knocks it from the nightstand turning it off.
Finding the bed beside him empty he expects the smell of coffee to be coming in from down the hallway, and is irritated when he realizes it isn't. Hearing water running he guesses Kate got back late from her run.
He heads for the kitchen to tell her he'll just grab something to eat on the way to the department, but she isn't there when he walks in. It isn't until he's rounding the table to turn off the sink that he sees her laying prone on the floor.
Heart leaping high into his throat he drops to his knees beside her.
"Oh God, Kate-- "
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Her breathing is shallow but even; her sweat-damp tank sticks to her skin, outlining every rise and fall of her back.
Bill's voice registers through a thick wall of glass, muffled and smeared and distorted.
Part of her knows she needs to open her eyes, needs to respond, but she can't muster the energy.
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Heart beating too hard and too fast, the first thing he does is make sure she's breathing. Then he checks for blood; fighting hard to quell his rising panic.
"Kate, honey, y'-- "
Carefully reaching out, his hand touches her cheek and he flinches when he feels the heat coming off of it. Her forehead is worse and with the sweat that's drenching her he knows she's got a dangerous fever.
"Kate, please, darlin'... "
His mind is racing, and mixed up with all his thoughts for action is Oh God, don't--
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She frowns, her brow wrinkling, and a shiver ripples down one bare arm.
Her lips part -- (she's talking to him, reassuring him, it's okay, i'm okay, i'm just tired) -- their slight movement soundless and stilted.
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Glancing around quickly he spots a dishtowel hanging on the back of a chair. Snatching it, he rises to thrust it under the running water, shutting off the faucet, he wrings it hastily then brings it to wipe her forehead.
She needs a doctor.
Carefully he untangles her and lays her out flat on her back. Rolling the towel up, he lays it across her forehead and gets up to go grab the phone.
"Just-- just hang on a sec, Kate. S'gonna be fine."
She's from a different world.
He stares at the phone in his hand, and looks down at her, and he suddenly doesn't know what to do.
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"M'oh -- "
(i'm okay)
She takes a labored breath -- is there a Cessna sitting on her chest?
"M'here."
Her eyelids flutter.
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Ignoring the fear twisted in his guts, he focuses on what he needs to do to help her.
"S'alright. We're gonna get you looked at."
Carefully he picks her up into his arms. Heat is pouring off of her and he can feel her burning up through the thin cotton of his T-shirt. The dishtowel stays in place as he rises and heads for the bedroom.
That fuckin' door better be workin'--
If the bar doesn't show up he's going to make the call, and figure out what the hell to tell them later.
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She makes a muffled sound of protest when he stands; the black behind her closed eyes swirls, expanding and contracting, stealing her sense of equilibrium. Her breath catches and one hand fists weakly at his shirt without finding purchase.
"Too early."
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"Early?" As they pass the bathroom he thinks about giving her something, but decides it's better to leave it to the doctor. Someone has to be in the infirmary, or around the bar who can help.
"S'okay, I got you, alright?"
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She isn't sure if she nods or only thinks she does, but when she turns her head into his shoulder, she can feel damp strands of hair that escaped her ponytail rasping over her skin.
She's so tired; she only wants to go back to sleep, but isn't there something important she's forgotten?
Caught between falling and floating, she mumbles into his torso.
"Don't -- don't leave Marie."
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Hearing her say Marie causes a new cold wave of concern to wash over him, and he forces himself to keep a reaction from his voice and expression.
"S'gonna be fine, I promise."
Adjusting her carefully, he reaches out for the closet door handle.
"I got you, Kate."
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She shades her eyes against the sun, but she doesn't see Marie or her familiar red backpack with its pony patch and teddy bear keychain.
But god, it's so hot; the white blouse of her school uniform is sticking to the small of her back, and her skirt feels like a second skin around her thighs -- she can barely concentrate, struggling to pick her way through the throngs of passersby.
Her chest tightens. She can't lose Marie, she can't.
"No, she -- no."
She shudders in Bill's arms, and her glassy eyes open, wide and desperate.
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"Kate-- "
Trying to catch her gaze with his, he keeps his voice calm and firm. A bead of sweat runs down her cheek, and he has no idea how high her temperature is right now.
"Kate, you're alright. You're here with me. I'm with you."
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Talking is a Herculean effort, her tongue heavy and swollen in her mouth.
"Lost her."
Urgency fades, replaced by marrow-deep exhaustion.
"Don't lose her."
The request falls from her mouth, soft and slurred, as she relaxes against him again.
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Making sure his hold on her is good, he reaches for the door once again and pulls it open.
A breath escapes his chest when he sees Milliways on the other side, and he steps through quickly, headed straight for the infirmary.
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Right now, it's quiet, but if running a hospital has taught her anything, it won't be that way for very long.
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