Katie POV:

My eyes fluttered open at the sound of a door opening and closing. The scratchy towel pressed into my cheeks as I came fully into consciousness. I lifted my head, blinking against the dark spots that blurred my vision. My mouth was so dry, I fully sat up, fighting the dizziness and reached over for the water bottle Bella had left me. I took a sip, the cool water helping rinse away the God awful taste in my mouth. Ugh I felt like death. Every part of me ached.

The noise continued, now sounding like someone was walking up the stairs. Was it Bella? School couldn't possibly be over by now, granted I didn't have a way to tell time in here.

My mouth flooded with saliva as I felt the nausea rise in me. Great. So maybe that sip of water wasn't a good idea. I clutched the edge of the toilet bowl, the cool porcelain feeling good against my burning hands. Yay. Nausea, dizziness, body aches, and a fever, all I needed now was my period and I'd be good to go.

I was so focused on trying not to hurl up my guts again that it took me a moment to realize their was someone knocking on the door I had shut. The knock sounded again and a deep voice I had come to recognize as much as my own sounded, "Katie? Are you in here?"

Crap. I didn't want Jacob to see me like this. If I looked half as bad as I felt...yikes, it couldn't be good. "No, go away" I moaned in pain and distress. He chuckled from outside the door, "I heard you were super sick and home alone. I figured if you were gonna spend the day with your head in the toilet you might want some company." I groaned in pain, "Jake, go away, I feel like dying."

"Aw, well, no one should die alone," I could practically hear the smile in his voice and though I hated him for showing up, I couldn't help but be happy he was here. My stomach lurched again, and I dry heaved into the toilet, my breaths turned to huge, gasping sobs. God, I hate being sick.

All the amusement faded from his voice, "Alright, I'm coming in." I panicked, I really looked like shit, probably smelled horrible, was crying, and had literal vomit on my face, there was no way in hell I wanted him in here. Even if part of me was thrilled beyond measure, going so long without seeing him had felt like I was dealing with a phantom limb and had to handle the pain and loss all alone. Also no one likes to be sick alone.

These thoughts warred in my head and to myself more time I took a deep, shuddering breath, and rushed out, "No you can't come in, I'm not wearing any pants."

Which was true, I had shed my sweatpants and was only in my underwear, bra, and, actually Jacobs T shirt that went down to mid thigh. Jacobs hand stilled on the door, and in a matter of fact tone he asked, "Are you wearing underwear?" I muttered a yes. Then he asked, "Are you wearing a shirt?" Again I had to say yes. I felt his smile and his amusement again, as clearly if it were my own, then he said, "Congratulations! You are officially more clothed than you would be in a swimsuit and you're a swimmer."

Stupid boys and their stupid logic. My thoughts were cut short, by another round of retching. The door flung open, something soft hit the floor, but I couldn't see it, because I lurched over the toilet. Acid burned my throat and tears blurred my eyes. Then strong hands were on me, a familiar scent comforting me when I felt most vulnerable. My hair was pulled off my sweaty neck and a warm hand rubbed up and down my back in soothing motions while I threw up.

A few horrible moments of sickness passed with Jacob murmuring comforting words in my ear. When I was finished, Jake gently pulled me back away from the toilet. He briefly moved from my side and I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the way my insides twisted from more than nausea as he moved away.

Jacobs POV (30 min earlier):

I pulled up to Katie's house, the roar of the engine quieting as I parked the bike. I quickly picked up the the bag of soup and my quilt that Paul and Emily had graciously packed for me. I still had trouble believing that crass, ill tempered, Paul had been so thoughtful and helpful when it came to Katie.

I reached down the bond to Katie and felt it was quiet, slumbering. So she was asleep, then.

I hurried up to the front door, placed the bag on the kitchen counter and sniffed the air. Ugh, the sickly sweet scent of vampire was here. I let my instincts take over as my brain analyzed the different layers of the scent. Charlie's, Bella's, and then the smell of my amazing imprint, except with the tang of sick, sweat, and bleak unhappiness. I climbed up the stairs, trying to calm the insane urge to race up the stairs, find Katie and pull her into my arms. Helping her, holding her, caring for her, simply being there for her. I took a deep breath, subduing the wolf instincts. Shoving them deep inside. I didn't want to scare her. I knew we were more than friends. I knew that she knew we were more than friends. Still in that in between phase of changing from best friends to more than friends. But I didn't want the possessive, territorial, nature of the wolf inside of me to overwhelm her.

I felt stirring down the bond. She was waking up. I could smell her behind the bathroom door. My instincts around her getting stronger. I quickly knocked on the door a couple of times, desperate to get to my imprint when she was in need and vulnerable. Desperate to protect her.

"Hey Katie? Are you in here?" I asked even though I knew the answer, not only could I smell her, you didn't have to be a wolf to hear her very clearly. She groaned in pain and responded with, "No, go away." Even in this situation, I had to laugh. Katie's sarcasm was built into her very soul. I needed to get in there to be with her so I said, "I heard you were super sick and home alone. I figured if you were gonna spend the day with your head in the toilet, you might want some company."

I leaned against the door frame, clenching my fists to avoid ripping the door off it's hinges when she moaned in pain again and said, "Jake, go away, I feel like dying." The utter bleakness of her tone made me crave to do something, anything, to make her smile. So I said, "Aw, well, no one should die alone." I smiled when I felt reluctant amusement flicker down the bond.

Then it vanished and was replaced by sobs and gasps of pain. I clenched my hands so hard my nails bit into my palms. My teeth ground in frustration. I wanted to end her pain, or at least hold her hand and be there for her. But my older sisters had been very particular about their bathroom time and had drilled into me that you always, always, knock and then ask permission before entering a room/bathroom with a girl, or even the possibility of a girl, in it.

But I couldn't stand her pain anymore and thought to at least give her a warning and said "Alright, I'm coming in." Katie's panicked voice immediately came back with "No you can't come in, I'm not wearing pants."

Her pain and aches still flickered around me, making forming rational thoughts quite challenging. I squeezed my eyes shut and took deep, deliberate breaths, trying to resist the animalistic urge to see her safety above gaining her permission to enter. Ten seconds. I could give this conversation a generous ten seconds before I opened the door to be with her regardless of her current state. But I sighed through my nose and asked "Are you wearing underwear?" She muttered yes. I continued. "Are you wearing a shirt?" Again, a yes.

I quickly walked into her room that was one door down from the bathroom and grabbed her discarded sweatpants that were on the ground. I walked back to the door and had to smile when I said "Congratulations, you are more covered than you would be in a swimsuit and you're a swimmer." Just as I was waiting an answer, I heard her dry heave.

Chivalry be damned I opened the door, threw the sweatpants on the ground by the sink and found my mate looking absolutely miserable.

Katie was pale. Her lips and face bloodless and covered with a sheen of sweat. Her red hair was dull and matted to her neck. Her body convulsed with the force of her retching and I gathered her hair in my hand pulling it up off her neck and out of her face. Holding her hair up with one hand, I ran soothing lines up and down her back with the other, murmuring to her, telling her how it would be ok. Her pulse fluttered rapidly in her neck and her body burned with a fever.

When she finished, I gently leaned her back against the wall. There was two wash cloths sitting on the sink counter and I grabbed one. The softness of it contrasting with the rough callousness of my hands. I returned and lovingly wiped Katie's mouth clean. Her eyes were closed and she occasionally whimpered in pain. I felt her forehead with the back of my hand and swore under my breath at just how hot she was. My legs groaned as I stood up and turned the sink faucet to cold. I held the second cloth under the stream and rang it out a couple of times.

When I placed the cool cloth on her forehead her hazel eyes cracked open and she mumbled, "Hey." I smiled and grabbed the bottle of water next to her and said, "Hey, yourself." I coaxed her to take tiny sips, her lips chapped. When she relaxed more, closing her eyes again, seemingly done puking her guts out for now, I sat next to her on the ground. I turned to face her, my synapses firing more normally now that I was sure she was out of immediate harms way and said "How do you feel?" She opened her eyes, showing just how exhausted she was, but even still, managed a brief glare. She then mumbled, "Did you really just ask me that? You got a front seat to the puking show." I smiled at her, then gently nudged her with my arm, "No, really. How are you feeling?"

She groaned, then leaned her head against my shoulder. I couldn't help the deep content sigh that left my lips. She shuddered against me. Then murmured, "Well besides the constant nausea, I've been dizzy, have a killer headache, and my body aches." I leaned over and kissed the top of her head. I felt her cheek raise against my shoulder in a slight smile.

We sat like that in amicable silence for I don't know how long. Eventually Katie's breathing evened out and I realized she was asleep. I sat next to her, my arms around her holding her close. Brushing her hair and back in long soothing strokes.

——————-

A while later, Katie stirred, grunting a bit as she woke up and stretched. I released her as she moved and went to grab the water bottle sitting a couple feet from me. I opened the water bottle and brought it to her lips. She lifted a hand to bat it away and I flicker her nose in response. Katie's hazel eyes narrowed as she relented and drank a few sips. My heart easing with every drink she took.

What most people didn't realize was that shifter males liked to feel needed. We needed to dote and fawn. Even if it wasn't in our culture as Quileutes, there is still the instinct to protect the defenseless, whether they are old or young, male or female. Not that Katie was exactly defenseless, even when she was very ill. Then with the imprint bond added on, the intrinsic qualities as a protector and provider were a million times stronger.

"Do you feel any better?" I asked after she pushed my arm away in annoyance at my persistence. She shrugged, but in that movement alone I could tell she felt immensely better. Her face had a bit of color, though was still pale and wan. She moved with a bit more ease as she sat up fully.

Katie furrowed her brow as she scrunched her face in concentration. God, she was just so cute. "Actually yes, my stomach has calmed down a bit," she admitted, "But I still feel like shit."

I stood, then reached down to grab her hands, helping her to her feet, saying, "The fact that you have enough energy to cuss tells me otherwise." In truth I was so relieved to see more life in her eyes. Her hand reached for mine, and I glanced down as I steadied her then said with a smirk, "How's the shirt? Comfy?" A brilliant blush creeped up over her face, her ears lighting up strawberry red. Katie tugged the hem of the shirt which fell to about mid thigh. She was well and truly covered, but my shirt did nothing to cover her beautiful long, muscled legs. I noticed immediately that it was my shirt she had on, with no small amount of male satisfaction. I was glad that in a house saturated with the smell of vampires, at least my mate was covered in my scent and her own.

Katie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me, "Well you never said you wanted it back." She said, fighting the blush and embarrassment obvious on her face. I pulled her close to me, I could hear her heartbeat spike up into a rapid rate, and whispered, "No worries, Katie. Besides I like it better on you."

Katie froze in my arms, then looked up at him beneath curling eyelashes, her pupils large, the green around her eyes diminished by their size. Oh, she was so beautiful. Even being sick, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. My heart, my soul ached with the need for her. Our staring contest continued, thick with tension. God, I wanted to tell her so bad. Wanted to tell her everything. Everything about myself, my culture, my history. More than anything, I wanted to tell Katie the truth. I wanted to share with her my fears about being out of control from my temper, out of control from my body, from my very self. I wanted to share with her the worst things about being a wolf. I wanted to tell her the best things about being a wolf.

But every time I even think about attempting it, excuses become my best friend. 'It's too soon' or 'she's not in the right mood' or 'I'm not ready yet'. The truth was I was scared shitless that I would tell her and she would run.

Katie shook me from this train of thought as she broke eye contact with me and playfully pushed my arm, "You cad." She smirked, her hazel eyes lighting up, her full lips and face nicely flushed with color.

I couldn't help it, I pulled her into my arms for a tight hug. She seemed shocked by this, but a moment later her arms were wrapping around my waist. She turned and pressed the side of her face against my chest. She breathed in deeply. Exhaled slowly. The feel of her breath through the thin fabric of my t shirt sent a pleasant shiver racing up and down my spine. Then Katie's stomach grumbled loudly. I laughed and swept her up, holding her in my arms and walking downstairs.

She sputtered, "Wha-what are you doing?"

"Oh," I faked in surprise, "Was that very loud sound not your stomach growling?" She pouted in my arms as I walked into the kitchen, "I hate you. You know that?" I gently lowered her onto the couch, her bare legs brushing my arms. "Mmhhmm. Yeah I'm sure you do." I told her.

She winced as she settled on the couch and left her in the living room, but didn't go far as I grabbed my quilt from the kitchen counter and some rifled through the cabinets till I found what I was looking for. I walked back to the living room to see Katie shivering, her face pale again.

Crap.

She had strained herself. I swept the quilt across her legs. Katie whimpered in pain as she shook from chills. She moaned into my side as I sat down next to my best friend, my mate, my imprint, and pulled her into my arms. Tears eeked out of her eyes and she cried out "I hate being sick", she added a couple of choice words as her muscles spasmed. I held her soothingly and said "I know, baby, I know."

Her body finally eased. I pressed two Tylenol pills into her hand and a cup of water into her other. Then gave her a hard look, glancing down at the pills then back up to her in clear direction, she huffed in exasperation, though the effect was diminished by her sickly look.

I raced upstairs, grabbing her adidas sweatpants off the bathroom floor, then running into her room. I was floored when I entered the room by the scent entwining around me, awakening me. I took a large breath, pulling Katie's scent deep into my lungs. Her green and blue comforter was rumpled, her bed disheveled because she probably didn't have time to make it being super sick and all. Katie's scent was concentrated at her bed, her desk, and her window that faced the woods. Her backpack was leaning against the dark wood desk and her homework/papers were piled haphazardly around with pencils and pens, as if her brain was moving too fast for her hands to keep up. I found my sweatshirt that I loaned to her on her dresser. I grabbed that as well, she had really bad chills and the layers would help, as would the Tylenol. In her closet I pulled out a thin green tank top, in case her fever gave her hot flashes again. Then, like a damn dog rolling in it's favorite scent, I quickly laid down on her bed, breathing deeply both taking her scent and leaving traces of my own.

Then I hurried back downstairs with the clothes in my arms. Katie was laying sprawled out on the couch, her bare legs tangled in my quilt, eyes closed. Before I could get a word out, Katie said, her eyes still closed, "No. I am more conscious now and I refuse to be seen in this state." I couldn't help but smile. God, I love my girl. She continued on, "I appreciate you holding my hair back and forcing both water and medicine down my throat, but I can't risk you getting sick. So thank you for your time. It's lovely to see you. But I'm afraid I'm terribly busy and can't be bothered" I cut her off abruptly. "It's so cute how you think you have a choice in this."

She sat up and glared at me, "Dude, I'm trying to be gracious, but I look like shit, feel like shit, and don't have any pants on. So, please, get out before I lose my mind."

I threw the sweatpants at her face and covered my eyes with my hands. "There. Now you have pants." The blankets rustled as she pulled the sweats on. I got a face full of pillow as Katie said, "I'm decent." She had her arms crossed, sitting on the couch. I was just glad she had enough energy to pout. My cheeks lifted in a smile. Katie, not nearly amused, huffed. Her stomach growled again.

Strands of her red hair floated around her face as I dropped the rest of her clothes next to her on the couch. I ruffled her hair with my hand and said over my shoulder as I walked into the kitchen, "Emily made you some soup, I'm gonna heat it up. Do you think you can keep it down?" Katie made a low note of consideration in the back of her throat, "Maybe. I hope so, cause I'm starving."

"What a surprise." I muttered under my breath with a smile. Suddenly her voice was by my ear, "What was that?" She asked playfully. I jumped a little at the surprise of her joining me in the kitchen.

She pinched my side in playful annoyance at my sarcastic comment. I elbowed her arm in return. She kicked my ankle. I flicked her nose. Her freckled nose scrunched in annoyance. We moved together getting out bowls and spoons for soup. I pulled out a pot and dumped Emily's tuber ware of chicken noodle soup into it and turned the burner on low.

"Your 'health-swings' are giving me whiplash." I said to Katie while stirring the soup. She had gone from super sick, to a bit better, to sick again, to better again. "You're telling me. I'm the one dealing with this shit." Katie responded.