Sick Day

Now It's My Turn

James POV

    James awoke to the sound of breakfast being made. His stomach growled, and he was no longer trapped in feverish stupor. He felt so much better. The world felt new and beautiful, and all was well.
    He also awoke to John, fast asleep, wrapped in his arms. This, he didn't remember happening, but he felt a pang of nostalgia. This felt just like when they were boys, and John would run to his room when there was a storm, or he had a bad dream.

  James was hungry now, but he didn't want to wake John. He carefully moved John's arms to the ground and gently lifted John's head onto the pillow. Then he dumped the vomit bowl out the back of the tent -his face a little green while doing so.

Then James walked to the tent's entrance. He opened it, but before he could step outside, he felt John's arms encircle his waist from behind. He stiffened. He didn't usually hug people, but when he heard "I love you James,"  his heart melted with thankfulness and love for his brother.
  He turned around, still wrapped in John's arms, and returned the embrace. One hand grasping John's shoulder, and the other in his hair. He pulled his brother's head to his chest and said,
"Thank you for taking care of me, Little Thunder," James said, adopting the nickname Simon had given John.
 
  John lifted his head to smile at his big brother. Then John pulled out of the embrace, holding James at arms length.
  "What exactly did you eat yesterday, by the way?"
  James thought for a moment.
"Some stew I had found by the fire. I'd assumed everyone had already eaten when I came back from an assignment from Jesus. No one was in the camp, and the stew was cold."

  "James...we didn't have stew for lunch yesterday... that's why you got sick!"

  Mental note, ask before eating, James thought. He would not be doing that again. He chuckled at John, who knew him so well.

  "Well, looks like you'll be back to eating abnormally large portions of food," John laughed. James rolled his eyes, shoving John and walking again towards the tent's entrance. There went the moment of tenderness. John was back to his teasing self. James only got one night of reprieve from that.

  James walked outside to find everyone staring. He hadn't even thought about what he must look like. He walked to the glass they had hung beside Mary and Ramah's tent and looked into it, almost not recognizing the man who stared back at him.
He laughed at his crazy hair, still pale face, and vomit-stained tunic.
Gross, John had just been hugging him.
Time for a change of clothes. Jesus, apparently, had read his mind, because he was soon beside James, placing a fresh set of clothes in his arms.
Jesus clasped his shoulder and smiled. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Big James. Your brother took good care of you."
  "Yes he did."

  James changed into the fresh set of clothes, and took a bowl of porridge and some fruit for breakfast, eating like he'd never eaten before. It tasted so wonderful and he scraped his spoon on his bowl to get the remains. When he looked up, everyone was staring again. He sheepishly set his bowl down.

  "You know, you can just have more," Thomas said, a sassy smile on his face. Ramah elbowed his stomach.
"Oof! Ramah?"
"Give him a break, Thomas, he had a rough night."
   Thomas smiled at her as he always did and James rolled his eyes once again, slopping more porridge into his bowl.
  "You know, James," Thomas began. "We actually had leftovers last night since you weren't there. It's a shame we had to throw them away."
James chuckled, scooping some porridge into his spoon - he was usually the one to finish off the rest of the group's meal.

Note: obviously they didn't have fridges in Bible times, so they couldn't keep leftovers unless they were preserved, probably with salt, or items that wouldn't go bad in one day.

  Once he had finished eating, James stood and looked around camp. They were out of firewood.
  Jesus, as if reading his mind again, walked up to him. "No firewood huh? Looks like you and John are back and ready to make the search!"
James smiled and nodded, heading to the tent to see if John was ready to go.
John was. He had eaten breakfast and was now strapping on his sandals.
"Ready?" James asked him. John nodded and stood up.

  Then they walked out of camp in search of wood. Not even 5 minutes later, James was warning John about a sharp rock ahead. Too late, John tripped.
John was now splayed out on the ground, ankle rolled between the chunks of rock, and bleeding.
He groaned in pain, not sure whether to touch the wound or not.
  James looked compassionately at his brother, but chuckled at John's usual clumsiness.
"I guess it's my turn now, to take care of you," he knelt down and looked at the wound, and tore a piece of fabric from a part of his tunic.
  He called for some help, and soon Thaddeus was by his side with some honey and herbs. They cleaned the wound, and then poured the paste made with the honey and ground herbs over the wound, wrapping it with the fabric.

  James carefully lifted John onto his back and carried him back to camp, then set him down on a log by the fire.
  Now it was his turn.

  Across the camp, James could see Jesus smiling at him.

His heart swelled as he remembered the words, "love one another."