Convalescence

Sick

A half-eaten bowl of chicken soup sits on the bedside table, empty water bottles and used tissues litter the floor, and a mop of messy black curls peek out from the knot of blankets on the bed. When she combs her fingers through the mess of curls, she's not surprised to feel a fever flushing his skin with heat. Nor is she surprised when he barely moves from his comfortable nest. It does make her giggle a little to see her six foot ex-football player husband curled up in a nest of blankets because the flu had absolutely wrecked him.

Slipping her fingers into his hair, once more, she rubs his scalp and smiles when he shifts back, pressing shoulders into her torso. The rough patches of psoriasis had made a speedy return when his immune system was compromised by the flu and she'd called his dermatologist for a prescription. The medicated shampoo and topical cream made the symptoms bearable but until the flu was done with him, he'd have a flare up.

A soft moan is followed by the emergence of his face from the cocoon of warmth he'd created and his hoarse voice croaking a barely audible, "Sweetheart?"

"Hi." Teri touches his cheek briefly, dragging a tender hand along his cheekbone. "You doing okay?"

"Cold." Dean shakes his head, burrowing deeper into the nest.

"That's just the fever, my love." a soft reassurance as she presses a kiss to his temple. "I called the pharmacy. Your prescription is ready. I sent Emerson to pick it up."

"Does she - "

"She knows you better than she knows Jon." Teri giggles. "I just hope she doesn't ask for Papa Bear instead of Dean."

Dean just smiles, turning his head to look at his wife over his shoulder. All tender smile and soft eyes, staring down at him. The concern is clear but she's already been reassured, he'll be fine as soon as the medicine has a chance to do it's job. 

"You worry too much, sweetheart." even his hand is pale, touch overly warm when he brushes her bottom lip with his thumb. "I'll be fine. I've had worse than this." 

"Dean..." 

"I'll be fine." Dean insists. Well, as much as he can. It's a little hard when his throat hurts so bad, he can barely speak, but still. He doesn't want her to worry herself into being sick because he caught the flu. According to his doctor, it's a perfectly treatable strain, and with proper fluids and rest and a couple of doses of Tamiflu, he should be fine. 

"Mom? Papa Bear?" Emerson pokes her head into the room, holding up the plastic bag from the pharmacy. "I got the medicine." 

"Thanks, Eme." Teri smiles gratefully at her daughter. "That's more than Tamiflu in that bag. What are you up to, miss?" 

Emerson just giggles and sits down on her Mom's bed by Dean. She hands her Mom the white paper bag containing Dean's medicine and continues digging until she finds what she's looking for. She pulls out a teddy bear in a cowboy hat, holding it up for him to see. It's cute and he can't help but laugh at the tiny thing. 

"Us Californians are not Cowboys fans so this is as close as you're getting to anything Dallas Cowboys that I didn't have to order." she winks, tossing the thing at him, before reaching for something else. A movie, this time, some weird Indie direct-to-DVD film. "It's kind of terrible but that's half the fun of it. I'm sure you and Mom will have a blast making fun of it. There's a lot to make fun of." 

"Thank you, Eme." Dean's sleepy smile is a little bit heart-breaking. Teri knows that normally, it'd be a lot more enthusiastic and appreciative, if he wasn't bed-ridden and fighting his immune system.