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"So?" Alhaitham asks.
"Thirty-nine point six," Kaveh reads off the thermometer, and sighs.
"Mm." Alhaitham rolls onto his side. The room briefly forgets its spatial orientation, flipping over him and around. His stomach clenches. He closes his eyes and breathes carefully until it passes.
"You look terrible," Kaveh says. "Do you feel any differently other than the fever? Worse? Dare we hope for better?"
Alhaitham sighs. "About the same."
"We can go back to Bimarstan," Kaveh offers. "See if they'll give you something stronger."
"No," Alhaitham murmurs, afraid to shake his head knowing it would most likely set off the vertigo again. "It's fine."
"Nothing whatsoever about this is fine," Kaveh grumbles, brushing damp hair away from Alhaitham's face with blissfully cool hands. "You're burning up."
"Fevers kill infection," Alhaitham mumbles.
"This one is too high," Kaveh says. "If you're not willing to go to Bimarstan... we can try running you a tepid bath."
"No," Alhaitham murmurs again.
Kaveh massages the tender spot at the base of Alhaitham's skull. "If you take the bath and we get your fever below thirty-nine, I'll make you chai nabat."
Alhaitham leans into the soothing touch. "We don't have nabat."
"I bought it while you were in Bimarstan yesterday."
Alhaitham cracks an eye open. "Plain saffron?"
Kaveh nods. "From the uncle in the Grand Bazaar."
The thought of getting up, emerging from even the light blanket he's permitted, is enough to make Alhaitham shiver even without considering the bath.
But Grandmother made him chai nabat when he was sick. She would brew the tea a little weak and stir in exactly three little candies. And now the taste and the warmth and the ritual of it is... reassuring, at least.
"Well?"
The barest, slightest nod.
"All right," Kaveh says. "Close your eyes."
Alhaitham closes his eyes.
Kaveh lifts him, with a sort of pressure-not-pressure from the opposite side that means Mehrak is assisting with the effort. Alhaitham shudders and presses his face into Kaveh's shirt as his sinuses shift and throb.
"Ready?" Kaveh asks.
"Mm."
Kaveh sets off. Alhaitham keeps his eyes shut tight, swallowing down nausea. Kaveh absolutely will not give him chai nabat if he starts vomiting.
"You really don't feel well, do you?" Kaveh asks. "About to sit you down."
"Mm." Alhaitham braces himself. He's shifted to sit on what must be the rim of the tub, which by necessity draws him away from Kaveh. The light brightens, but he still doesn't open his eyes.
Things happen to his body which he observes but only sometimes experiences. He remains distant as Kaveh divests him of his clothes. He draws back even further for the initial descent into the bath. He is aware of his stomach tensing, but somehow the cool water soothes it enough to bear, and so he comes back to himself as Kaveh places a hand on his shoulder.
"Let me wash your hair?"
Alhaitham nods.
This, finally, is good. Kaveh doesn't try to move his head. He uses something, a cup, probably, to bring the water up, and blocks it from running over Alhaitham's face with a hand. Once everything is wet, he adds shampoo and massages it in thoroughly, easing some of the tension in Alhaitham's head. He just slightly rakes his nails against the skin there, too, which is certainly not necessary but feels good, something pleasant layered over so much else.
Alhaitham relaxes into the touch, not resisting at all, shoulders drooping.
"Don't fall asleep, now," Kaveh says.
"Not asleep," Alhaitham mumbles.
Kaveh rinses his hair with a cup, then tilts him back slightly to lean against the tub instead of sitting up fully straight. "Soak for a moment while I get some things ready. Mehrak will be with you, but try not to fall asleep in the water."
"Mm." Alhaitham slowly, begrudgingly, opens his eyes. The room is dim. A small amount of light from the window behind him, just enough to see by, but clearly the curtains are mostly closed. The cool water is slowly soothing the nausea and washing away the layer of sweat. It's not so bad.
As Kaveh leaves, slipping through the door, Alhaitham gathers himself enough to grasp the bar of soap and clean himself up properly. He drifts somewhere in the back of his mind. His hands glide along his skin. The water laps at his body. This is helpful, and not just for the fever.
When he finishes cleaning himself off, he leans back against the tub and closes his eyes. Mehrak lets out a soft chime every so often, which keeps him from quite falling asleep, but he rests.
"Hey, hey."
Alhaitham opens his eyes.
"I told you not to fall asleep," Kaveh scolds.
"I didn't," Alhaitham says.
Kaveh rolls his eyes. "You were well on your way. Come. Let's get some clothes on you and check your temperature again."
Alhaitham leans forward and pulls out the plug from the tub. It doesn't trigger a wave of vertigo, so he carefully pushes himself up to his feet, too.
"You look a little better," Kaveh remarks, reaching out to help Alhaitham out of the tub. It's not strictly necessary, but Alhaitham lets him do it, obligingly stands still to be dried off.
"The bath was helpful," Alhaitham says.
"Good." Kaveh rubs the towel over Alhaitham's body. "You're still burning up, though."
"Mm." Alhaitham closes his eyes again.
"We'll see in a moment, I suppose."
"Yes."
Kaveh dries his body. He pulls nightclothes onto him, loose cuts with smooth fabric and as few seams as possible. Then he guides Alhaitham out to the living room and has him sit at the table in front of a large bowl of steaming water.
"Temperature."
Alhaitham shakes the thermometer and slides it under his tongue. It's a quick-read type that beeps softly a few moments later, and Kaveh snatches the item away and pushes Alhaitham's face closer to the bowl.
Alhaitham's sinuses start to loosen. He sniffles. His temples pulse.
"Thirty-eight point nine," Kaveh says. "Congratulations. I'm willing to allow you a hot beverage." He goes into the kitchen again, returning with a steaming cup of tea and a plate with some candies on it. "There."
Alhaitham counts out exactly three candies and sets them into the cup to melt, and then returns to sniffling over the steam. Kaveh goes behind him and towels off his hair.
"You should have stayed home and rested if you were feeling this ill," Kaveh says. "I would have been all right. I would have figured out how to shut it down eventually. You didn't need to make yourself worse. You're going to be in bed for a week."
"I don't mind a vacation," Alhaitham says.
"I know you'll happily curl up in bed with a book all day and call it a vacation well spent, but you're too ill to read," Kaveh says, rubbing a little more aggressively. "I'm sure Cyno told you that I went into the Golem of my own volition. I made my own choices. What happened to stepping aside and letting me experience the consequences of my own foolishness?"
Alhaitham sighs. "I wanted you."
Kaveh goes entirely still. "Alhaitham..."
"I wanted you," Alhaitham repeats. "I felt ill and I wanted you. You could not know to come to me. So I went to you."
Kaveh sighs, and Alhaitham can imagine the incredulous expression that must be on his face, the way he must be shaking his head. "You," he says. "You."
Alhaitham stirs his tea and takes a careful sip. There. That's the taste he wanted. A knot in his chest slips free. "I can be no one else."
"And to think that occasionally I feel fond of you," Kaveh says, returning to his task.
"Mm."
"Don't do this again," Kaveh says. "I don't like seeing you so ill."
"This specific set of circumstances is extremely unlikely to recur," Alhaitham says. He closes his eyes and takes another sip of tea.
"You must be feeling better if you're back to being contrary," Kaveh says. "I suppose it's for the best. I wouldn't know what to do with you if you actually decided to stop being a menace to society."
"Mm." Alhaitham lets himself tip back into Kaveh's hands while he continues to drink. The pressure in his sinuses is easing. The nausea is finally gone. Kaveh is a gentle presence at his back. He does feel better.
Kaveh dries Alhaitham's hair, and then loosely braids some of it back, and then just massages Alhaitham's scalp as he finishes his tea. As Alhaitham sets the cup aside, Kaveh presses a kiss to the crown of his head. "Come, now. Let's get you back to bed."
"Mm..."
"Come on." Kaveh tugs at Alhaitham's arm.
"Carry me," Alhaitham says.
"Really," Kaveh says. "Really? I know you're feeling better. Come on. Get up."
Alhaitham sags against Kaveh in lieu of a verbal answer.
"You truly are a brat," Kaveh says, but his voice is all fondness. "But I suppose with a fever like that I should be lenient." He sighs in half-feigned irritation. "I'll carry you."
And so Alhaitham is lifted into Kaveh's arms and carried back to bed. Kaveh must have changed the sheets while Alhaitham was in the bath, because they're smooth and entirely dry against his hand when he's placed on top of them. Kaveh settles a light blanket over him. "Get some sleep. I'll-"
"Mm." Alhaitham cracks his eyes open. "Stay."
Kaveh laughs quietly. "Such a brat," he says. "Let me get a few things first."
Alhaitham closes his eyes. He feels sleep pulling at his mind. But he resists.
He resists, until he hears a glass set onto the nightstand, until he feels the bed dip next to him as Kaveh sits, until the gentle scratch of pencil on paper signals that Kaveh has settled in to work.
Everything is as it should be.
Alhaitham sleeps.