theattic | THE FLUFF CORNER

"Yeah, but dead people aren't supposed to get sick. This is weird." And unnatural, he swears. What if he was going to die all over again? At least he was responding a little more quickly now that he assumed he'd been awake long enough. "You try that and tell me if you want any honey in it, and though you might want to take the NyQuil first...I dunno."

He hadn't been sick himself in quite a long time. At least, naturally sick. "Do you have a way to reach Horas? You think he might have some tips?"

Maurice took a sip and made a face, but it was no commentary on Hanna's tea-making skills. The whole inside of his mouth tasted bad. This was gradually getting worse and worse but he kept on. The steam loosened his nose up, but his chest still made him sound like he was making his final death rattle every time he took a breath to talk.

"I don't know. I don't talk to Horas if I can help it. Terri knows how if he's not at the nest. But I don't think we need him." WHEEZE. "It's gonna be fine, I promise."

NyQuil did sound good though. Once he'd finished the tea he fumbled with the bottle cap before scowling and using his vampire strength to just rip it off. The threading on the bottle mouth was now warped to all hell but it didn't matter because he turned the stuff up and chugged it.

He'd had worse.

"Thanks, Sweet Putada. I think I'm just gonna take it easy tonight. D'you have work?"

Hanna made a face, having expected Maurice to, you know, take the recommended amount, but that obviously wasn't the case. "Uh. Shouldn't you just take a little?" He knew he was dead, and weight also factored in to dosage, but...He's not kissing you till you've rinsed your mouth out, Maurice.

"And no, I had work earlier and i've got the next two days off." He smiles honestly at this though, thankful that he can at least take the time to take care of Maurice. that will ease his nerves a little bit. "You're going to stay in bed though, alright? I don't want you getting any worse." And he might just slip out of the room and make a call to a Mrs. Hutch to get more info, maybe some help from a real momma. He wasn't the best at mother hening, and when he tried, he tended to over react and get panicky. He doubted that would help Maurice's health, so calling in the big guns would be worth it.

"You want anything to eat? I think there are some cans of soup in the pantry..."

Hanna, you clearly expected too much out of a guy who once drank floor cleaner because he didn't feel like going down the street.

He let out a quiet, wheezy laugh and slowly lowered himself back down to the pillow. "You got it, Doctor. My ass isn't moving. I don't want anythin' to eat right now."

Nothing that Hanna could give him anyway. He couldn't borrow blood from him and he wasn't about to send the guy out onto the streets with a syringe.

"You're too good to me...hey, now I can give you a warm hug, huh?"

"Your ass is grass if it does," He responds, grinning back at him even if the display of gulping down NyQuil had been a little bit of a wake up call in Maurice's previous habits that Hanna hadn't ever really gotten to witness. He supposes it's a damn good thing he's here or Maurice might just try and find another bottle. Next time he'll give it to him in a medical spoon and not offer the whole bottle.

In any case, he'll sit at the edge of the bed, fussing with his blankets, trying to make him comfy, though his comment has him shaking his head, not quite agreeing, "You don't have to be warm to give warm hugs, Maury. You're good at that regardless of body temperature, promise."

Maurice leaned up to watch him as Hanna went to work making sure he wasn't going to get up and wander off. A mixture of feelings were pushing for the spotlight. He was endeared and reminded again of one of the reasons why he loved this nerd so much. Hanna was just so thoughtful. But he also felt bad for worrying him. Maurice usually knew everything that was going on with his weird undead body and could readily explain, but today he couldn't give him answers.

Suddenly his sappy smile was replaced with worry. "God, I hope you can't catch this from me, I feel like garbage."

Hanna makes a face at the thought. "Didn't you mention something a long time ago about being a carrier? I figure if I haven't gotten sick yet, I'm fine." But he might have some bad dreams about catching Ebola or something before he wakes up tomorrow morning, it'll be fine, he's sure.

"I mean, I've kissed you plenty. What ever you've got knocking around in there, I'm sure I'm pretty immune."

"Huh...I guess. Yeah. Like how cats can't catch colds from people. You should be okay."

He sucked in another gross-sounding breath and threw himself into a loud coughing fit in attempts to loosen some of the WHATEVER THE HELL was clogging him up. It wasn't really working.

"I think I have a hairball."

"Fur real?" Hanna usually got a dirty look for a comment like that, but Maurice started it.

Though, he can't take a moment to be all that proud of himself when he leans over and rubs a hand against Maurice's back, frowning as he coughs into his pillow. "I know you can't really choke, but be nice to your body...That sounds like it hurts."

He let out an appreciative grunt when Hanna rubbed his back. If he didn't feel so crummy, he would have asked for that to evolve into a full-on cuddle session.

"It kinda does. I thought it'd...clear me-owt."

Hanna's fingers continued to rub, moving to scratch along his back gently, and later, if he got some sleep he might even ask him if he wanted a massage, but, it was time to let the big oaf rest, and he pats his back companionably, leaning to kiss his forehead, even if it was a little clammy due to the weird warmth radiating out of him and the sweat that gathered.

A vampire with a fever was the weirdest thing he'd ever heard, but he supposed anything could happen. "Okay, I'm going to let you rest now, and you holler if you need anything, got it?

"Okay...maybe we can watch TV later. I think I'll want that soup after while, but that medicine is--"

And then he completely lost consciousness. At least the horrible wheezing stopped.

The abruptness of Maurice falling asleep made Hanna's eyes widen to the size of saucers. He stared, horrified, and for a moment, stupidly went to feel for his pulse before he realized the man was dead, of course he didn't have one.

If Maurice was actually just asleep, that was good, but...he would breathe occasionally when sleeping, and if he didn't in the next few minutes, Hanna would give himself the green light to panic. His eyes darted between Maurice and the clock on the wall for a good five minutes before a stuttered breath was drawn in and Hanna could let his own go, hand over his heart. Damn vampire was going to give him a heart attack. "At least he's actually sleeping..." He grumbles, shakily standing up and giving Maurice one good look before heading out of the room and shutting the door mostly behind him. He left it open a crack, just in case shutting it all the way would make it hard to hear if Maurice did call for him.

Considering going out to grab more medication, potentially something to boost his immune system like airborne or Alkaseltzer, he wondered if that would even work... Ten points has him thinking no.

He fidgets for a good ten minutes more before he parks his ass on the couch and reaches into his pocket for his shitty cellphone in all it's prepaid, employee discount glory. It had a few numbers in it, the few people he had managed to meet, and he dove into the contacts list, one particular number on the speed dial. Pressing call, he brought it up to his ear and waited, hoping he wasn't calling too late, not even remembering what day it was and if it was Sunday, he hoped he wasn't interrupting anything....southern-y. If Mrs. Hutch treated Sundays like some of his customers did, yelling at him about why he wasn't in church, he'd be in for it for sure.

In any case, when she does answer the phone, he sounds kind of pathetic, possibly a little panicky, "H-hello? Mrs. Hutch? Uh, I got a question, if you're not too busy."

For a moment, there is a burst of static and the roar of a television as Margret tries to dig the phone out from under an enormous black and white cat.

"Hello?" There was a hint of frustration in her voice, but Hanna couldn't have known about the cat. When he announced himself, however, she almost spoke over him in her excitement. "Well hey there, hon! Naw, me'n the cats are just sittin' here watchin some paid actors win this fishin' boat, what are you up to?"

Hanna, for a moment, feared for his immortal soul, but the tone she had answered with changed so suddenly that he actually breathed out a sigh of relief. "O-oh...Um. I'm sitting too, just." He swallows, fighting the urge to say 'trying to keep breathing and not panic', "Just got Maurice to go to sleep. He's uh, not feeling well." There, much better.

He leans back into the couch, trying to let it soak him in, possibly eat him, but it's not so overly stuffed and unfortunately he'll just have to keep talking, "I was wondering if there was anything you used to do for him when he was sick? Yanno...like family recipes or something. I dunno. I'm not the best caretaker..." Yup, totally pathetic. "Anything would help."

Margret leaned forward as she cupped her chin on one hand with the phone held in the other, grinning ear to ear. He'd had a question about Maurice, that was right! And she listened. And listened. Just got Maurice to bed? Oho, you sly little carrot!

But then comes the bad news.

"Oh..." She hurried to mask her disappointment as what Hanna just said really sank in. "Oh! But--hon, he's dead. Are you sure he just didn't--you know how he is. What's th' matter with him?"

Hanna kind of laughed into the phone at her immediate answer of 'he's dead', shaking his head and leaning back, kind of slipping to the side and resting his head against the arm of the couch. Sitting still was hard right now. "Well, yeah. I know that. But, he doesn't have to breath, but when he does, he sounds like he's got liquid in his lungs, and he's warm, which is really odd. And he was kind of...disoriented when he woke up. Like, more than usual. So I think it's a cold. I mean, he's definitely got a fever..." Hanna chewed his lip, "He said he might just be hung over, but he hasn't had anything to drink that i've seen." And even if he didn't have to see it, he knows what it smells like so he'd have known if he did.

"I gave him some NyQuil and he passed out real quick...I just am at a loss. Like, can't give him vitamins cause that's gonna do fu- Um. Not much." He corrects his dirty mouth and continues, "I had him drink some tea, but I dunno what that'd do either."

"Now that is...odd. I didn't know vampires could get colds. He hasn't said anything about that long as I've known he's been one." She leaned forward and rocked herself out of the chair, making her way through the sea of cats and looking for one of the HUTCH FAMILY TOMES. "Well, if there's one thing I can do, I can kill a cold. Get you some paper, hon!"

AND THEN THE LESSON BEGAN. She gave him every weapon under the son from soups that went back four generations to boarderline ritualistic cures involving standing upside down and whistling to something as simple as--

"And keep him propped up so all that can drain. He'll cough it out when he's strong enough. And don't YOU go and catch it! I can't have both my boys sick or I'll have to come down there and fuss over ya'll myself. And ya'll wouldn't like that."

She added with a hint of mischief.

Hanna did his best to keep up with her, having grabbed a notebook, flipping to a page that wasn't full of rune designs or stupid doodles. He's surprisingly serious, much more than he usually would be, and it's obvious that he's worried over the phone, more obvious that in his worry, he'll do his absolute best to follow the instructions and ideas given to him.

And, as she slows in her teaching, even if Hanna's hand hurts and he's already gone through one pen, he's admittedly feeling a lot better about he whole thing. If what he couldn't do was enough, he doubts that she would mind if he asked her to come over. He had a feeling she'd even be thrilled at the idea, and smiles into the mouth piece, resting his forehead against he phone.

"You're a gem, you know that? I'll try my best not to get sick myself, and thank you so much for your help. If I can't use it all this time, I'll be prepared for it whenever it comes back around." Glancing over at the clock, he's been on the phone a good hour and a half, and while he'd like to continue the conversation, he knows he doesn't have much more than 200 minutes on his phone, and he's already used a few calling Maurice during his breaks at work. "I'll have to talk to you later though, but really, thank you. I'd kind of be a mess without you, Mrs. Hutch."

"Oh, hush, you!" Margret couldn't keep herself from laughing though. Hanna really knew how to throw out a compliment. "You call me any time you wanna ask me anything."

Way to be subtle, Margret.

"OR, you know, just shoot th' breeze. I don't get a whole lotta phone calls." Her tone finally turned a little more serious. "Lemme know how he's doin' tomorrow, I'll admit I'm a little worried. I never heard of no vampire catchin' no cold either."

She carried on praising him for being so thoughtful and eager to help before finally letting him put the phone down.

"Me neither. I'd like that, just can't talk too long or I'll get a bill I can't afford." He laughs, not at all bothered about the idea that he can't afford much. Life's always been like that and he's been quite okay with it. He's pretty happy where he is. "I'll call you tomorrow though, don't worry. Just, expect a call in the evening since he doesn't get up till late."

He said his own goodbyes and finally, ended the call, sighing heavily and feeling less stressed than he had before. He had no idea why he didn't talk to Maurice's mom more. She was one of the nicest ladies he had ever met. Reminded him of his own mom, just...with a more southern flair, which he supposed was to be expected. In any case, he looked down at his notes, over to the kitchen, and then at the bedroom door. Well. If Maurice was going to sleep a little longer, he supposed that it wouldn't hurt to head out to the store and get the ingredients he needed for the recipe he'd been provided with. And while he was kind of shit at driving Maurice's truck, he actually had renewed his license after a lot of finagling, and so he headed out, Maurice's keys in hand.

A trip to his store and back didn't take too long, especially since none of his coworkers cared to greet him while he was there, which didn't bother him any. It made the trip easier, and on the drive home, he even attempted to sing along with what ever was on the radio, parking and heading right in to work on the soup he was going to hope helped speed up his boyfriends recovery.

Hanna working away in the kitchen managed to draw the beast out of hiding because soon heavy bare footfalls were slapping on the tile as Maurice wandered in. He was still rasping and he was still not his usual chilly blue, but his eyes were at least open and not full of gunk. He'd also fluffed up his hair so that it wasn't completely stuck to his forehead.

He drew in a long, deep, disgusting breath and exploded into another coughing fit. "What is that?" His voice was thick, same as it was when he was drunk. Thanks NyQuil. "It smells...amazing? I think. I can't really tell. But it looks like it smells amazing. You're amazing, Hhhhhhhhhanna."

If anything, Maurice had taught Hanna to follow recipes, and he knew how to do that pretty well. Admittedly a lot of his lack of cooking was due to his lack of want to, but right now he really wanted to, and he was trying his best to make it exactly how Mrs. Hutch might. Honestly, the recipe was pretty simple, and he was even smiling to himself as he worked, stirring the pot occasionally and damn pleased with himself for the effort.

But, when he heard Maurice get up, he turned, raising an eyebrow at him as he entered the kitchen, wooden spoon in hand, and he pointed at him with it, serious. "Hey! I thought I told you to stay in bed! You sound like you're dying again."

The vampire blinked sluggishly and looked down at the spoon.

"Wh...ooooh. Oh. Sorry." He looked down at what he could see of his feet. "At least...at least I'm not hexed, right? It could be worse."

He had gotten lonely.

Hanna had some sympathy, his spoon still pointed at him, but, soon enough he set it down. He paused a moment, considering before he nodded for Maurice to sit down, "At least get off your feet okay? I Can get you a blanket for out here and maybe we can watch something while you eat, huh?" He dipped his spoon in his wizardy brew and took a sip, pleasantly surprised, and checked the recipe he had written down one last time before confirming that it was done. Mrs. Hutch really was a gem if she could help him make something that tasted good without supervision.

He grabbed two bowls, figuring that if he put the effort in, he wanted to sample more too, and filled them. "You want anything to drink?"

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