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I try again. This time, the soft pitter-patter of dog paws sprints closer, and Dick whines behind the door.

"Kieran!" I shout and ring the doorbell again. There's no way he'd leave Dick all alone at home. Not when he's in puberty and in the mood to destroy furniture and chew up whatever he can get his little teeth into. Evan also mentioned how much Kieran hates leaving his dog at home when he’s getting a tattoo. So, he must be home.

"Kieran!" I shout again and pound my fist against the door. I'm getting worried. Dick keeps whining and, from the sounds of it, bumps his paw against the door, but the house remains dark.

Maybe I should try to call him.

Or maybe I should skip it and call Erik to kick down his door instead. What if he made another of his weird wood-chopping videos and the axe landed in his thigh and he's bleeding out in the garage?

Finally, a shuffle joins the pitter-patter behind the door. I knock again.

"Yes, yes." His voice is croaky, and when he pulls the door open, I almost scream in surprise. He's so pale. Dark circles formed under his eyes, his cheeks hollow and collar damp, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead.

"What the hell, Kieran?" He opens the door a little more. Rose takes the invitation and trots inside. Meanwhile, I step closer, and my hand flies to his forehead.

"You're burning up." Seriously, his skin is on fire. At least he appears physically intact and has no axe in his leg.

"No shit, Sherlock," he croaks out, turns around, and shuffles down his hallway, the sound almost equal to fingernails on a chalkboard to my ears. "I feel like shit too." He stops and slowly turns around, dangerously swaying. "Which means you should probably not come in here, or you're going to catch whatever it is."

"I have a great immune system." I wave him off, close the door behind me and toe out of my shoes.

By the time I make it to the living room, he's slouched on the couch, his eyes closed and head leaning back, exhaling heavy breaths.

What the hell?

I peer around his living room. Despite his conditions, it's still impeccably clean, not a hair out of place. If it were me, there’d be tissues, tea mugs, and blankets strewn all around.

"Did you take any medicine yet?" I ask and set the takeout bags on his kitchen counter.

"No," he croaks lazily. "Got dizzy when I was searching. And then I gave up because I didn’t want to black out in the bathroom."

"Bathroom? Is that where your medicine is?" Without another word, he points upstairs, arm moving as if it’s got a twenty-kilo-weight attached to it. "So, you were dizzy and still went down the stairs?"

"Someone was knocking on my door like a maniac." Lazily, he blinks one eye open to shoot me a pointed glare.

"Sorry, not sorry." I shrug. “Hold on, let me check if you have any meds.”

Instead of an answer, he lets out a dramatic groan as I make my way up the stairs. Rose and Dick both remain in the living room, staring at Kieran as if one wrong move would make him crumble.

Wow.

The vibe up here is so different. I mean, there are crumpled clothes all over the floor, cabinets left open, and I catch a glance at his bedroom as I walk past it.

Ruffled covers. Pillow on the floor. Clothes thrown over a chair in the corner. Definitely not as perfect as his living room, which I find strangely comforting.

Anyway, back to the mission. I’m up here for medicine.

It's not hard to find the bathroom because the door is still wide open. I let out a low whistle. Damn, he’s got more products than me. Which means something, considering my elaborate curl routine. There are hair gels, tattoo creams, moisturize, all kinds of stuff.

Then again, I suppose with all the tattoo care and, well, making parts of yourself look presentable for social media, it adds up.

I don't want to know how cluttered my bathroom would be if I bothered with makeup.

His medicine cabinet is right under the sink, and noting with relief that it's lockable. There's nothing quite as panic-inducing as realizing your pet has made its way into your medicine cabinet.

Okay. I turn the first bottle in my hand. What do we have here?

The answer is: Several vitamins. Hello, fellow vitamin D-deficient human being. There's also magnesium, several tattoo and anti-itch ointments, and then...