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As Taavi settled me in the seat, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, already feeling a chill sweat on my forehead and lower back, even though early October isn’tthathot. Not warm enough that I should have been sweating from making my way to the car, anyway.
“Will you text us updates?” I heard Ward’s voice ask.
“Of course,” came Taavi’s response.
“Hart.”
I opened one eye to find Doc bent down in the open door of my Charger. He held out the other half of the donut. “What?”
“Eat it.”
“I’ll barf.”
“You kept the rest of it down,” he pointed out, infuriatingly logical.
I grimaced and took the donut and napkin he was offering, then let my head fall back again. “Fine. But if I ralf in here, you’re getting the upholstery bill.”
“Fair enough.” I could hear a slight edge of amusement undercutting the worry, and it made me feel a little bit better. If Doc was chill enough about my condition to have a sense of humor, I couldn’t be that bad.
“Hart?”
I grunted at him.
“You’ll be fineif—” and he put a lot of emphasis on thatif“—you let Taavi take care of you. Magical exhaustion is no joke. You’ll recover, but you’re taking tomorrow off,andyou’re going to take it easy the whole weekend. Got me?”
I sighed, then opened my eye again to see how serious he was.
He was very serious.
“Okay, Doc.”
“Promise me, Hart.”
“Promise.” I closed my eye again.
“Taavi?”
“I’ll make sure he rests,” Taavi assured him, and I could tell from his tone that I wasn’t going to be consulted at all about this. Not that I had much of an ability to actively protest or resist at the moment, although I sure as shit hoped that I’d be feeling more normal by tomorrow.
I kept my eyes shut as Taavi drove me home, eating a few more bites of donut in the darkness behind my own eyelids as we moved through the city. I mused at how weird it was that even though I knew exactly how to get from BTV to my apartment, it felt completely alien when I didn’t look out the windows.
Getting me up the stairs was an exercise in patience and willpower, and I was shaking by the time Taavi managed to get me to the top of the two flights. He was smart—and quick—enough to take my keys from me before I dropped them, and he somehow managed to juggle both them and me and not drop either one in the process of getting the door open and me inside.
He let me half-sit, half-fall onto the couch, then went back to close the door before a curious Pet managed to get up the courage to venture out into the stairwell.
“Sorry,gatito,” he said to her, coming back toward the couch before maneuvering me so that I was lying on my side, my knees drawn partly up. Warm fingers pressed my forehead. “You don’t have a fever,” he murmured, “but I don’t like how you feel.”
“Me, neither,” I muttered, and was gratified when he gave a small chuff of amusement.
“Do you have food here?”
“Cereal. Some pickles.”
He let out a small huff. “So, no. I’m going to go shopping…” He trailed off.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured him.
Another huff. “Have you eaten anything else today besides three-quarters of a donut?” he asked me.
