Sick Day

John POV

They all sat together by the fire in the camp, listening to Jesus speak. He was speaking of caring for one another, humility, and love.
John listened intently. It was a beautiful message, but putting it into practice would be the difficulty.
"Isn't this great?" He nudged his brother with his elbow. When James didn't respond, John looked over at him. James didn't look so good.
"James, are you ok?"
"My stomach hurts."
"You probably just ate too much...again." John whispered, careful not to disturb the others listening to the message.
James shook his head slightly, not saying anything more. Turns out, he was trying not to vomit, because the next thing John knew, James was running for the woods and Jesus stopped speaking.
They all looked concernedly in James' direction, hearing him retch. James came back a few moments later, wiping his mouth and swaying back and forth.

"John, please take your brother to his tent and care for him." Jesus asked.
John looked at Jesus, his face saying 'do I have to?'.
"But Jesus, can't you just heal him?"

Then Jesus gave him the look.
"John, what was my message about just now?"
John looked at the ground, ashamed of himself. That was embarrassing. Especially because all eyes were now on him.
James stood there, looking sickly pale. John walked over to James, and slipped an arm around James' waist, supporting his body. James slumped more of his weight on John than John expected.
Boy was he heavy.
But finally, they made it to the tent, where Jesus' mother, Mary passed John a clay bowl and some herbs, also promising to bring some tea in a little while.

No sooner than John had taken the bowl from her hands, James retched once again, this time into the bowl, snatching it from John and staggering to the back of the tent.
John looked at him, still grudgingly. He could be doing something more interesting right now.

The night progressed, James continuing to empty his body's contents until nothing more came out but air. John mostly just stood there.
But soon he was able to help, setting up James' sleeping mat.
"You need some rest, and to drink something, James," he said. James nodded, though looking green at the thought of ingesting something again.
He slipped his arm around James once more and eased him to the floor. James had to kneel first, then sit as John slowly lowered his body to the floor.
John felt James' forehead. He was now feverish.

John stood and was leaving the tent, but James called him. The first thing he had said in a while.
"John, stay!" There was a feverish tinge in his voice. Likely, the fever affected his mind now.
John looked at his brother, compassion now welling up inside him. Jesus' words began to sink in. James looked on the verge of tears, a pleading and desperate look in his eyes.

"What do you need, James?" John said, smiling apologetically.
James simply patted the ground beside him.

John knew exactly what that meant.

When they were little, John would always run to his brother's room with nightmares. James would put his arm around John's shoulders and they would lay together. It was so comforting. James would sometimes even tell him stories to keep his mind off the dreams.

John rushed to James' side and lie down beside him. He never realized how much he missed this until now. He pressed up next to James' warm body, gently resting his hand on his brother's aching stomach.
He was instantly taken back to their childhood.
And he was instantly reminded of how much he loved his brother, bringing tears to his eyes. He looked up at James' face. He was pale, cheeks flushed, and his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. His eyes were closed now, and beneath John's hand, he felt the rise and fall of James' breaths. Calming down. He was asleep.

John soon found himself dozing off too, arms around his brother's waist, and soon he was asleep.