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For the first time in probably years, Silas got sick. It was probably just a flu, but it was awful. It felt like his brain was stuffed with wool, he could hardly think, god forbid read. Any time he tried, words just slipped from his grasp like they were silk.
And so he couldn’t do anything. He wasn’t able to read, and he could never meet a patient in this state. So that meant that he was stuck. Unable to leave the house but unable to do anything.
It was, simply put, absolute torture. He hated it. So much.
Daphne was probably busy, writing away in her office. She most likely didn’t know he was sick and it was probably best for him not to worry her. But she should know that he’s ill. He couldn’t be hiding things from his love.
So, aching and heavy limbed, his dragged himself from the sanctuary of the bed. Everything hurt and Silas felt dizzy, but he could walk.
The way to the study felt longer than usual, exhaustion wearing him down. But he made it to the familiar room with a mix of poetry and medical books lining the walls and covering the floor. Daphne as expected and sitting at the desk, focused on her work. She looked stunning and the sight of his love alone felt like it burned away from of the fog.
“Daph-“ He tried before a coughing fit interrupted him. “Daphne?”
Her attention turned to him. But it was worried, anxious. Oh.
“Silas? Are you alright, love?” Daphne got up and hurried over to where her husband stood, leaning against the door frame.
“I’m fine.” He croaked, smiling tiredly. “I just wanted to tell you that I am sick.”
“I can see that! Why aren’t you resting?” She began to herd Silas back to where he was pretty sure their room was…
“I decided to tell you I’m sick before I get-“ Another coughing fit. “-worse. It might be best to stay away from me, I believe I might have a fever. A damp cloth should help…”
“Alright. Now, you go lay down. Please. You always tell your patients that they need rest or… their state might worsen. I don’t want that to happen to you.”
Silas listened. Usually he wasn’t the patient and he preferred it to be like that. But Daphne just looked so concerned… he couldn’t just ignore her. Besides, she had good bedside manner. Better than most doctors and surgeons- himself included. He tended to have a hard time emphasizing with his patients. It didn’t mean he didn’t care for them any less, but it was always hard to understand what was going on in their head.
Just another effect of whatever difference there was inside of his mind. Some days he wanted to pick his brain apart and find every little thing that was abnormal in it and study them.
Today the blankets and his clothing felt too itchy, too tight, too close. They were awful and he wanted to irrationally claw and tear at them until nothing was touching him.
But he couldn’t, he shouldn’t.
Daphne re-entered the room and everything felt better again. She held a cup of tea.
“Oh. I think you might be glowing.” Silas mumbled, watching her. Everything felt dreamy and like it wasn’t real. She was so beautiful… it felt ethereal.
“Darling, I think you might be a bit delirious,” The angel replied, sitting down beside him. “Drink this, it might help you sleep. Be careful though, I don’t want you to spill it.”
He took the cup and drank it, holding onto it as tightly as his hands were capable of. His fingers felt like rocks, heavy and hard to move.
Regardless, he managed to drink it and was rewarded by a smile that left him breathless.
“Th-ank you.” He smiled tiredly up at her. It was surely a shadow of the one he’d just seen.
“You’re welcome, my love. Now, please sleep. I’ll check in on you in a bit.”
Silas nodded heavily and let himself drift away into sleep.