Ever had that horribly stuffy feeling crammed deep in your sinuses, your stomach is churning and your head is pounding and your body feels like it's been dumped into a pool of ice cubes and gasoline that someone has kindly set fire to?

If you have, then you'll know exactly how Mike Schmidt feels at the moment.

Said security guard coughs violently into his couch cushion, sighing as another heat wave crawls up his skin. The expected chill follows after, providing natural relief for a split second before sending shivers down his spine.

He can't smell through his stuffy nose at the moment, but it's pretty clear that all he'd be able to detect would be the sweat sticking to his skin and his own bad breath, courtesy of the knockoff medicine he bargained from the local rip-off store. The label said cherry flavored, but it tasted more like car oil and pepperoni than anything.

He sniffs for good measure, wrinkling up his nose when he hardly gathers any oxygen. What little he did gather only confirmed his suspicions, smelling of sickness and vomit. Mike groans, slumping deeper into the couch and kicking his legs up towards the end. He'd take a shower, but the ache in his body suggested otherwise.

Mike's too busy withering in his illness to hear the knock on the front door, only catching on when he hears the sound of it being opened.

Despite his body's protest, he darts to the corner of the entrance, just around the bend of his front door. His right hand curls into a fist as his back rests against the wall, waiting for whoever waltz in to come any closer.

Yeah, feeling like shit probably wasn't the best state for this, nor was he thinking clearly right now, but he doesn't remember inviting anyone over anytime soon. The intruder won't know what hit him.

Soft footsteps round the corner and Mike pulls back his fist, vision blurry and dazed. He pauses mid-swing, however, when he hears a small squeak come from the opposite party. "It's me! It's me! D-don't..hit me..."

The guard blinks, lowering his hand. The room is spinning a little, and the voice is a bit muffled in his ears, but he recognizes it nonetheless. The faint surprise last for a moment before turning into an apologetic stare. It didn't mean much, since his expression conflicted when he spoke. "For fucks sake, Jeremy. I thought you were someone else."

Jeremy tilts his head, raising a brow. "Who else would I be?" He questioned. "We're you expecting someone?"

Mike simply shakes his head, regretting the ache that panged behind his eyes as he did so. "You're kidding right?" He snarks, "Nobody wants to visit me, and I don't want anyone here. Who the hell would I invite...?" He trails off. "Aside from you, dimwit."

The nightwatch presses his lips together in mock disapproval. "It was just a question. You don't have to be so m-mean about it." He retorts, squinting at the guard's choice of headwear for the day. No beanie, no baseball cap, just bandages wrapped around to hide the scars. "...Still doesn't explain why you tried to hit me"

"In case you haven't noticed, weeb, I don't live in the safest part of town. People get their shit stolen all the time" The guard shrugs in defense. "You can't blame me"

The brunette looks unimpressed. "Sure..."

Ignoring the comment, ice eyes trail up the night watch. He's wearing his usual school attire, plain t-shirt layered over a long sleeve pushed up to the elbows, jeans, star sneakers and all. What caught Mike's attention, however, was the bag slung over the teen's shoulder. It certainly didn't look like his backpack.

"So..." He inquires,"What's that supposed to be?"

The younger male adjusts the satchel, shrugging. "J-just some stuff" He strays off. The answer isn't satisfying enough for the guard, however, furrowing his brows. "Stuff?" The older man repeats. "Whaddya mean stuff? Like, homework? Food? Drugs?"

Jeremy frowns at the assumptions, opening his mouth to protest when he's cut off. Mike raises his hand for pause, covering his mouth with his opposite arm. "Never mind that..." He coughs, sputtering away from the nightwatch. "You can't be here..."

The nightwatch almost looks offended. "What? W-why not?" Pouting, he straightens his stance as the guard tries to recollect himself. "You never c-complained about me coming over unannounced before!" Well, there was that one time in February, but that was under special circumstances. "What's w-wrong with it now?"

"Are you dense?" Mike sneers. "I'm sick as a fucking dog"

"I know. That's w-why I'm here in the first place."

The night watch's response is a baffled blink. "I didn't ask you to come over-" He turns to the side and coughs again, his voice raspy from the rawness. "You shouldn't be here unless you want me to puke all over you-"

As if cued, something vile and hot rose from the pit of his stomach, sliding up his throat and leaving a sour taste on his tongue. Mike covers his mouth, turns heel and darts into the kitchen, leaving a concerned and slightly disgusted brunette behind.

Sighing, Jeremy walks over to the coffee table, setting his bag down and unclasping the opening.he dumps out the necessities: a bottle of cough syrup, a thermometer and a pack of what looked like to be filled with different assortments of tea bags. This was how his mom did it when he got sick, couldn't the same work for Mike?

A tiny bit in the back of his mind suggested that it'd be better to leave, let the guard sort his own illness out in a messy apartment that smelled of smoke and wet laundry. Seriously, the man needed to learn a thing or two about developing cleaner habits. Maybe that's why he's always in such bad health? It wouldn't be surprising.

It's when the guard rounds the corner again, wiping his mouth does Jeremy take a good look at the bags darkening under his eyes and decides that leaving this man on his own would not be wise. He doubts Mike even owns a thermometer.

Jeremy watches with disapproval as Mike slumps back to his spot on the couch, rubbing his temples. "Are you d-done?" The nightwatch asks, tone heavy with concern. Yet, it diminishes the second Mike acknowledges him, giving the slight nod of the head.

Jeremy frowns. "You should really take better care of yourself."

"What are you, my mother?" Mike snarks, running a hand down his face. Jeremy makes some quiet retort back, but the guard tunes it out, zeroing in on the newly placed collection scattered across his coffee table.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me"

The look on his face is nearly comical. Jeremy crosses his arms, unphased by the older man's displeasure. "It's not m-much...but it should help some." He muttered, reaching down to pick a small white cylinder from the mess.

Mike watches him uncap the object and frown. "I don't need to be babied"

The nightwatch whips arounds, pouting. "You need a d-doctor more than anything, really"

"Can't afford it"

"T-that's why I'm here."

Mike could have sworn he had a decent enough comeback, but it disappeared when he nose itched, demanding a sneeze. And so he does, forcing Jeremy to take a step back before the impact. "S-see?" The nightwatch continues, making a disgusted face. "Y-you're not going to get better without some help."

He watches the guard sneer and wipe his nose, glaring at the teen from his spot on the couch. "Oh, really?" Mike snarks, rolling his eyes. "I've been sick as fuck before, Jere. This whole 'cold' thing I got going on ain't shit, I've been through worse. I don't need your help, not like you could be of use anyway."

Jeremy frowns. "That was a lie, Mike"

The accusation deepens the security guard's scowl. "Nah it ain't." He leans back into the sofa, sinking further into the cushions. "How would you know anyway?"

"You scratch your scars when you lie" The brunette pauses, "Sometimes"

Mike freezes, blinking at his subconscious reaction. He bites his lip as his raised hand rests on his bandaged scalp, letting it drop to his side in defeat. "Go figure"

Taking a deep breath, he prepares his protest. "Listen, I know you're trying to be helpful and all-" He pauses mid-sentence to cough, catching his breath. "...but the last thing I need is for both of us to get sick. You can't really help me out if you're just as fucked as me, right?" He finishes, "You really want to risk that?"

Much to the older man's displeasement, Jeremy disregarded his statement completely. Blue eyes give a stern, silent glare as the teen continued to ignore him, uncapping what looked to be something small, white and red, pointed near the end.

Mike huffs as the teen fiddles with the item, doing his best to resist shuddering. There's something crawling up his skin, chills sending goosebumps down his neck and over his arms. The heavy heat that flashed afterwards didn't provide any relief, if anything it just made the sweat stick to his forehead.

The burn of his fever is as strong as ever, but was he going to tell the nightwatch that? As if the kid didn't worry enough as it is, anyway.

The brunette holds the object up. "You know how to use one of these, r-right?"

With his pride already damaged, Mike couldn't find it in himself to state that he had no fucking clue what it even was. It didn't look intimidating, just a little digital, plastic, thingy-a-bobber, right? "Of course I do" He lied, clenching his fist to stay firmly to his sides. "Do I look like an idiot to you?"

If Jeremy didn't sympathise with the man's illness already, he would have given an honest answer. He settles for a soft smile instead. "Alright, here..." Extending his palm, he holds it out for guard. "Use it, I'm going to go make some t-tea, ok?"

Mike's stern look dropped, evolving into one of confusion. Sitting up from the couch with calm hesitation, he reaching out and takes the object, rotating it in his hands. "...Okay?"

The odd reaction goes unnoticed by the nightwatch, already collecting a two or three bags of flavors. Nothing fancy, but one of the best base flavors he kept at home; black, cherry and lemon. No telling as to what Mike would prefer, seeing as how someone like himself probably wouldn't dare drink anything other than stoic coffee and aging milk.

Jeremy's thoughts trail to the broken coffee maker sitting by the kitchen sink and inwardly groans. Mike's going to have to fix that, eventually.

Said guard is still observing the foreign object when Jeremy spins on his heel, wordlessly walking into the kitchen. He can feel ice eyes whip up to glare at his retreating back. "Oh, sure. Walk around like you own the place..." Mike mutters under his breath, half-minded to whether he should be loud enough for the nightwatch to hear him. "Fucking dweeb..."

A tuft of floofy hair pops around the corner. "S-stop being such a m-meanie..." He disappears back into the kitchen, only to poke his head back out a moment later. "And p-put on a shirt!"

Mike glances down to his bare chest, huffing. "Nah"

"But you'll get cold!"

"I'm burning up" He protests,"I don't see what the issue is here"

"...It's indecent"

"So? This is my apartment. I do what I want."

The nightwatch opens his mouth to retort, but shuts it again as he watches the guard wipe the sweat off his forehead. Now that he's taking a good look, there's no denying to how flushed the man really is.

Mike wasn't drained of color, strangely, but inflamed with it. Thin moisture trails down from the man's collar bone to his chest, making the nightwatch wonder as to why he could act so casual when he looked entirely feverish. Tanned as he was, the heat blooming underneath the skin left his face and shoulders a darker, warmer hue.

A pit of worry sinks in Jeremy's stomach, churning in the process. Thinning his mouth, he inwardly curses his knack to care and fret over small things so easily.

The lack of response causes Mike raises a brow. "Take a picture. It'll last longer."

Jeremy's cheeks flush pink for a split second before he rolling his eyes. "Your ego is t-too big" He mummers, disappearing back into the kitchen. The living room goes quiet, and once he was sure the nightwatch was out of hearing range, Mike let a low chuckle escape his raw throat. "It's not the only one..."

There's the pitter patter of footsteps and the brunette pops his head out for a third time. "What was that?"

"Oh, nothing"

The two share a stuffy silence, Jeremy narrowing his eyes at the guard's poker face suspiciously. Then, puffs out his cheeks and sticks his tongue out, letting Mike become baffled by his childish display before backing into the kitchen once more, this time, shutting the door behind him.

The older man has to blink two or three times before the act registers, ears peeking to hear frantic shuffling from the next room over. He refuses to let the corners of his mouth turn upwards.

Distracting himself, he twirls the strange object between his fingers, giving it some thought. Seen these things around before, never learned how to use it though. It couldn't be that hard to figure out, right?

Mike allows a small smile as he sticks it between his teeth. "Fucking dweeb"

Inside the kitchen, Jeremy makes note to 'accidentally' forget to add sugar to the brew. It was petty, pathetic revenge, but it was still an attempt none the less. Not that it would have much effect, now that he remembers. Mike didn't care much for sweet things, did he?

He sighs as he digs out a clean pot from the cupboards, filling it with water and placing it over the stove. It's set to medium, hot enough to boil quick, but easy enough for proper flavor. Just like his mom taught him.

His gaze falls over the horde of empty styrofoam cups littered across the counter. The symbol on the front inquired they were from the cafe down the street. Cheap place, not the best quality food nor service, but definitely Mike's style. Hell, he's consider getting a window seat at McDonalds as 'dining out'.

Jeremy doesn't think twice before scooping them all up in his arms and dumping them in the trash, placing the dirty dishes and silverware in the sink to be handled later while he was at it. That's it; the moment Mike gets better, Jeremy was going to teach him a thing or two about house care.

He leaves the tea on a slow boil as he exits the kitchen, taking a deep breath. "The tea is brewing. I d-don't know what you prefer, so I kinda mixed the flavors together..." He brushes his hair out of his eyes, green going wide at what he saw before him.

Jeremy's face morphed into indescribable. "Wha...what are...you...d-doing..?"

The nightwatch's squeak brought Mike to attention. "What?" He piped, "The fuck are you looking at me like that for?"

"A-are you u-using the t-thermometer as a cigarette?"

The guard raises a brow, holding the object tight between his teeth with two fingers. Blinking at the question, he removes it from his lips, glancing at it for a moment before dully turning back to the teen. "So that's what it's called..."

Good gosh, where would Mike be without him? Jeremy let his palm hit his forehead, emitting some small noise of frustration before recollecting himself. "That's n-not how it works..."

"Bullshit" Mike bit back, "You're supposed to stick these things in your mouth, right? I know what I'm doing"

Jeremy watches him pull another motion similar to smoking and outwardly groaned, his irritation showing on the outside for once. "N-no, you don't." He voiced, walking over and plopping down besides the security guard. "That's not how use a t-thermometer at all...."

Ice eyes narrowed at the verbal display, tracking the teen as he made his place besides him. "Fine, whatever..." He thrust the object in the younger male's direction, seemly irritated. "Show me, then." He coughed, "Since you know fucking everything"

Instead of pouting and taking the object, like Mike thought he would, Jeremy simply sighed, disregarded the thermometer and scooted closer to the security guard. Leaning forward the way he was, another inch or so closer and Mike would have enough nerve to straddle hi-wait, where the fuck was that thought going?

Rather, a pale hand comes to rest atop the older man's forehead, and Mike inwardly thanks his fever taking the blame for the rising blush to skin. "...The hell you doing?"

"Just c-checking..."

Jeremy turns his palm over, holding it in place. With his other hand, he wipes the thermometers end off on his pants leg, pressing a little button. Mike's brows furrow when he hears a little beep emit from the object, pausing in the slightest when the nightwatch raises it to eye level.

"Open your m-mouth"

"...What for?"

"So I can take your temperature..." Jeremy answers. "For someone who spent a q-quarter of his life in a hospital, you sure don't know much about self-care, do you?"

Mike groaned. "Worst years of my life"

Understandable, but that still doesn't explain why you have no idea how a thermometer works. It's getting harder to believe Mike even graduated high school at this point, much less went to college. Then again, that was on athletic scholarship, and with how his mind works, Jeremy's wouldn't be surprised if Mike took as much time to learn basic household functions as he would learn to use a coffee maker.

Absolutely irrelevant, as the guard would say.

Ah, Mike's brain damage: Not life altering, mostly. But still leaves some subtle annoyances here and there.

"Hold s-still, ok?" He continues, moving forward. Mike rolls his eyes, lowing his bottom lip just enough for Jeremy to put the thermometer in place. The device is halfway through it's calculating before the brunette notices something odd. "Y-You're not supposed to chew on it!"

Mike pauses in his teething, wrinkling his nose. "What am I suppose to do then,?" He barks, fighting down a funny feeling. Sneezing would not be pleasant at the moment, choking didn't sound right either. "Why would I stick it in my mouth if I can't bite it?"

"Geeze, Mike, It's n-not a c-chew toy!" Jeremy sputters. The guard snarls at the statement, his features taking the form of that resembled one of scolded dog. Ironic.

"This is all so fucking-" He's interrupted by a sneeze. "-dumb"

"You're health is not dumb, silly."

"Well, your doctoring methods are"

"And y-you have a better way?"

The question sends Mike into silence. Usually, his icy glare would send shivers down a one's spine, but Jeremy, despite his timid nature, has known him much too long for this. Mike looks more like a feisty puppy more than anything. Therefore, he returns an emerald stare of equal quality.

They share a tense silence before Mike huffs, turning away to cough out what seemed to be half of his lung capacity. Able to breath again, he sharply whips around to a dull faced Jeremy, one brow raised and expectant.

Mike's eye twitches. So much for intimidation. "Fine" He sighs, "We'll do everything your way, Nurse"

Jeremy smiles for half a moment before it drops, face going stark. "N-Nurse?"

He doesn't get to finish; Mike promptly stick his thumb in the brunette's mouth, earning a surprised whimper in return. "But if I gotta look like an idiot, so do you"

The nightwatch tries to frown, sticking his bottom lip out in protest, but the thumb resting firmly on his tongue suggested otherwise. Squirming a bit, he still attempts a defense. "thatssilly" He spits, giving a little 'bleh' when his words came out sputtering "stapit"