Willow tiptoed over to the refrigerator. Her trembling fingers reached for a glass and filled it with cool water. She needed something to calm her racing heart.
Her hair clung to her neck, damp with sweat, and her breath came in ragged gasps as she crouched down, trying to regain her composure without waking Jack.
After Ian had left she had pestered Jack to tell her why Dorothy had been killed, which only let to him having a coughing fit and her letting it go. Even though she wanted to know she shouldn't pester him with question he probably never would answer anyway. So, she had just helped him back to bed and herself tried to get some sleep on the couch which led to this nightmare.
"He's sick, Willow," she reminded herself, her voice barely above a whisper. "Now is not the time." She carefully set the glass aside, its condensation forming small droplets on the kitchen counter. As she silently contemplated her next move, she recalled Fahima's words about the nightmares, assuring her that they would eventually subside after a few days. "When are they going to stop?" she groaned, there definitely had gone a few days by now. So much had happened, and she guessed it wouldn't slowdown in the near future.
The heavy raspy breathing from upstairs served as a constant reminder of Jack's illness. Willow strained her ears to catch any sounds of distress. She heard his voice, soft and mumbled, and she couldn't help but lean in closer to the ladder, trying to discern his words. However, it became apparent that he was sleep-talking, his utterances disjointed and nonsensical, except for one recurring word, 'Alice.'
Willow couldn't ignore his distress when he whimpered and made her way towards the ladder, her bare feet making no sound on the floor.
"Jack?" she peered over the edge, seeing Jack tossing and turning in his bed, his feverish state evident. The dim moonlight seeping through the window highlighted the glistening sheen of sweat on his chest. Crawling over to the bed she put a hand on his bare chest, wondering what to do. No matter how many times she cooled him down it didn't seem to work. He let out a whimper sounding like a wounded animal making her quickly get up on the bed. "Jack, you're okay. I'm here, okay? I am here." she cooed, watching him clutching at the sheets, his breathing erratic. Her soothing words seemed to have a calming effect on him. His trembling subsided, and his whimpers grew quieter as he pulled her closer by the waist, seeking comfort. Willow allowed him to hold her, stroking his damp hair. It occurred to her that perhaps she should try to contact Ian if Jack's condition didn't improve by morning.
"Sunshine," he sighed, his grip on her tightening, his breathing slowly returning to a more regular rhythm. Willow lay down beside him, allowing him to cling to her for comfort, his head beneath her chin.
"Nightmares, huh?" she murmured softly, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on his back. "You're not alone."
"Sunshine," he mumbled again, his arms wrapped securely around her waist, his legs entwined with hers.
Willow couldn't help but wonder who he was speaking to in his dreams. Who was this Alice haunting his thoughts?
"You're so much nicer when you're asleep, you know that?" she whispered with a yawn, her eyelids growing heavy as she started to relax in his protective embrace. The night wore on, and Willow, despite her earlier anxiety, finally fell asleep herself.
A few hours later Willow couldn't help but groan as she gazed at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her neck bore the unmistakable signs of bite marks, resembling something out of a horror movie or the aftermath of a particularly passionate encounter. "I'm gonna have scars on my neck for the rest of my life, won't I?" she muttered to herself annoyed.
Jack's voice, dripping with amusement, floated from the bathtub. "Well, I can leave bite marks in other places if you like?"
Her response was swift. "Hell no," she shot back, turning around to find Jack lounging in the bathtub, half-naked. "Just focus on getting clean," she added, waving her hand dismissively as she leaned against the sink, her arms crossed. He needed a bath, and since he had helped her when she was sick, she felt the need to return the favor. Though she had ordered him to leave on the boxers.
Jack's smirk didn't waver. "At one point, this will turn into a kink, just so you're warned," he teased, licking his lips suggestively. "And you'll begin begging me to do it." His chuckle was cut short by a sudden coughing fit, and Willow instinctively took a step toward him before catching herself.
"in your dreams," she retorted, her tone defiant. "And how about focusing on what you're doing instead of being a pain in my ass?" She grabbed a stool from beside the sink and brought it over to the bathtub. "Let me help you with your hair." Sitting down at the end by his head, she picked up a wooden cup on the bench with hair products. "How are you feeling? You still haven't really eaten anything other than sour worms." her voice softer now as she poured some shampoo onto his head.
"Aww, you concerned?" though she couldn't see his face, Willow was certain he was grinning at her.
"Of course, I am. Why is it that hard to grasp for you?" She sighed, her fingers gently massaging his scalp as he turned his head up to look at her with dark eyes. They looked at each other for a second before he averted his gaze, succumbing to another coughing fit.
"Sorry I'm not reacting to what you're saying with proper excitement, I am in fact, really hungry." he mumbled, closing his eyes as she rinsed the shampoo from his hair. Willow continued to run her fingers through his soft locks, ensuring every trace of shampoo was gone. As she worked, she couldn't help but reflect on how her life had taken such an unexpected turn. The last time she'd helped wash someone's hair was when her brother was younger, and now here she was, giving a bath to a reaper.
Her thoughts took a somber turn as she realized that Peter's birthday was approaching, marking the first one she wouldn't be there to celebrate with her brother. Shaking off the melancholy, she licked her lips uncertainly and rolled up the sleeves of her green shirt, leaning over to present it to Jack's face.
"Eat," she mumbled softly, as she tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach. Gently, she pressed her wrist closer to his lips. Feeling his teeth graze her skin, she couldn't stop herself from holding her breath, a mixture of fear and anticipation coursing through her. To her surprise, he weakly pushed her arm away.
"No, I shouldn't eat in this state, I won't be able to stop," he mumbled, his arms wrapped around his legs, shoulders tense with restraint. "I don't want to hurt you." The words were barely audible, spoken more to himself than to Willow who didn't hear it. Frowning, she grabbed a washcloth instead, carefully wiping his back. She couldn't help but wonder what she should do to help him. He couldn't survive on sour worms even if he had been human, but he didn't seem to be able to really hold anything down and if he didn't want to eat...
"What do you need from me Jack? What can I actually do to help?"Willow finally asked, a touch of frustration in her voice. She was torn between wanting to care for him and feeling like she was pestering him. She half expected one of his usual witty comments in response, but instead, she was taken aback by the words he whispered.
"Just...Stay by my side, please."
She blinked rapidly, her gaze softening as she looked at his back, which suddenly seemed much smaller than before. Sometimes, amidst his bravado and attitude, it was easy to forget that Jack was still mentally not much older than her, as reapers don't age mentally or physically.
"Of course," she mumbled, her voice gentle as she put a comforting hand on his warm back. "I won't leave Jack." She smiled reassuringly as he turned to look at her. He gave her one of his rare genuine smiles and she felt her chest clench as she averted her eyes. "Let's get you up before you get all wrinkly." she said, her tone light as she hurried to fetch a towel.