Ronan: To the Moon and Back

Rae knew it was coming, in fact, she felt it coming. Despite all her precautionary medicines, vitamin C and these little Zinc chewable pills that swears fights of the beginning symptoms, she still catches a cold. She felt it two nights ago, when she was working and suddenly felt a tickle in her throat when she talked to Evan, who yet again was there trying to convince her to go on a date with him. Tea hadn't worked, she had no time to sleep it off because sleeping it off meant taking off of work and taking off of work meant even more bills unpaid. Which meant that the heat was still shut off even though their electric was turned back on. She also, again, declines the date offer and drives herself home because Jasper would rather her take care of herself than cough all over his hard cooked food. Even though he forced her to go home, he sent her with several takeout containers of his homemade, chicken noodle soup.

So by the time Friday rolls around, it's a full on head cold (at least that's what she tell herself because it cannot, absolutely can not be anything worse than a head cold, though it feels a lot like the flu). Her nose is stuffed up, and she swears it feels like knives lodge in her throat whenever she talks or swallows. Her head feels clogged and muffled, like someone shoved cotton balls into her ears until they filled her brain. Her neck and shoulders ache, and she would much rather be buried underneath her blankets at home by the fire in the sitting room. Sure she has no heat, but fire is heat in itself and that'll always do for her.
However, she made a promise to read to the kids during story time, so she sits in her car, willing herself to suck it up. Because no matter what, her pain, the aching muscles and headache, her sickness, the stuffy nose and knife lodged throat, never compares to that of Hummingbirds patients. Rae makes it as far as the main doors to the Children's ward of the terminally ill, when she's stopped. Doctor Ramsy was just coming back from his lunch break when he sees Rae, and immediately knows.

"Raelyn," He reprimands, "you know better to come here when you're sick."

Rae blanches. "I'm not...that sick. Just a case of the sniffles." She talks through the pins in her throat.

Doctor Ramsy fixes her with an incredulous look. "I'm sorry, Rae. I have to send you home."

"But I promised them I'd read today! I haven't seen Ronan for two days because of work. He needs me and I promised!"

"He'll be just fine, but not if you walk in there like this. Their immune systems aren't strong enough to fight off even a small cold. I'm sorry."

He right, she knows it. Rae groans; mainly because she's being denied access, but also because her neck and shoulders start aching worse, and she feels the coming of a cough. She hangs her head and sits down on one of the chairs in the lobby. Doctor Ramsy apologizes once more, then disappears through the doors she's forbidden to go through. She's a bit of an idiot for trying anyway.
*

Liam rounds the corner and spots her first, the boys just arriving to the Hospice and chatting animatedly about how they were sneaky enough to lose Paul again. They're in a secured place, and don't feel the need to be babysat each time they visit. The weather has been much more chilly following the rain, the sharp bite of winter just around the corner, so they're still in the process of shrugging off their coats when he sees her hunched over.

"Raelyn?" Liam questions worriedly, heart just beginning the beats of panic.

Rae's head is in her hands on the side of her face. She sounds like she's sniffling, which causes for more concern. She glances up when she hears her name. She looks so pale and her skin shines under the lights, making the dark circles beneath her eyes to deepen into shadows. Her mouth is partly open, breathing through it while sniffing her nose. She looks horrible, in the nicest way possible. Before any of the boys can ask, before their panic really starts to sink in and fear the worse, which isn't the first time, she speaks.

"Doctor Ramsy refuses to let me in." Rae tells them, voice muffled and strange. Like she's willingly trying not to speak using her vocal chords.

There's an unspoken, inwardly collective sigh of relief, then Louis steps around Liam, crouching down in front of Rae. "Are you sick?"

"No." She mutters unconvincingly.

Louis places the back of his hand over her forehead, frowning, then turning it over so his palm rests against her clammy skin. "I think you've got a fever, Rae."

Rae begins to shake her head, stops and groans. "I promised him..."

Liam places his coat around Rae's shoulders, adjusting it properly. Despite Louis saying she has a fever, she's shivering and he doesn't think it's from the chilly weather. Or from Louis' cold hand, which he has yet to remove from her forehead.

"Maybe you should take her home, Lou?" He suggests quietly. He slowly rubs his hands up and down her arm, now covered by his coat.

"No. I promised I'd read to them." Rae protests, voice becoming weaker by the second. She attempts to turn her head toward Liam on her right, which only causes her to grimace and Louis' hand to shift.

"We'll read to them." Harry offers kindly, crouching down next to Louis. "I can even do those little voices they like."
Rae starts shaking her head again, so Louis places both of his hands on her cheeks, stopping her movement and swiping his thumbs under her eyes. "You are burning up, Raelyn." Louis tells softly. "Let me take you home, make you tea. You have to rest to get better. Ronan will understand."

"Did you drive here?" Zayn questions, sitting in the chair next to her. His eyes, Louis notices, are softened around the edge, clear anxiousness shinning in the color of his irises; he has become quite fond of her lately. They all have.

Rae dips her head a tiny fraction, attempting to pass as a nod. Her face still held in Louis' hands, who doesn't seem to want to let go. "My car-"

"Hey, don't worry about it." Louis smiles reassuringly, "I'll get you home safe and sound. Up you get."

He carefully pulls Rae to her feet with the help of Harry, Liam and Zayn, all steadying her as she wobbles a little. She goes to return Liam's coat, who just holds his hand up saying she can keep it for now. Niall offers to help her down to the car park, the other three boys wishing her better soon. The lift down takes several minutes with people coming and going. By the time they reach the ground floor, Rae is practically leaning on Niall for support.

"Jesus Christ, you're really sick." Niall states, gripping Rae's waist tighter as she stumbles again.

"M'dizzy." She mumbles, clutching at Niall's shoulder. "Don't leave me..."

"Louis' got you, see?" Niall nods over to Louis opening the passenger door for her. "He'll take real good care of you."

Rae makes a sound in her throat, turning into a cough as Niall lowers her into the seat. He buckles her in and kisses her hair before he shuts the door. Him and Louis bid each other goodbye, then Louis drives off, Rae already dozing off against the window.

*


Once Louis settles Rae on the couch in her sitting room, finding extra blankets and covering her shivering body, she insists that Louis goes home. He refuses, commands her to stay put otherwise he'll put salt in her tea. She weakly flicks him off and snuggles deeper into the cough, pulling the blankets up to her nose. He watches her for a moment, mainly to make sure that she isn't going anywhere.

Louis digs through the kitchen, opening cupboard after cupboard until he finds the mugs and tea bags. It's the first time he has actually been completely inside the house. He puts the kettle on the stove, then sets to find any sort of medicine. He keeps an eye on Rae, who hasn't moved an inch but softly groans every few minutes. She's right though; Louis got her home safely and all tucked in on the couch, he should go home.

But her house is empty, and just a tad bit depressing from how lonely it seems to always be. Lonely when Rae had mentioned how much her mother works and the only time Louis actually met MaryAnn it wasn't even in their own home. It's bloody freezing was well, Louis guessing that their heat never turned back on, or the fact that both women are hardly home to even light the idle wood in the fireplace. There are several dishes in the sink, scattered mail cluttering the counter top, and a bowl of what looks like half eaten soup at the little table just right of the kitchen.

Louis' got things to do; a busy schedule that honestly only consists of visiting the Hospice and a writing session...and probably that radio interview he's got for later in the day. Though none of that matters because he can not simply just leave Rae alone in her cold, empty house. Not with dirty dishes and daunting letters with Final Notice stamped in red on the envelops. She's sick, possibly with the flu if her fever shoots up, and all Louis wants to do is take care of her. Let her know that she doesn't have to be alone anymore, that someone will bring her tea when she's sick and will willingly drive her car home so she doesn't end up crashing.

He hears Raelyn cough just then, a chest deep cackling rattle, followed by a muffle groan. The kettle whistling pulls Louis from his concern expression, taking it off the stove and pouring into the waiting mug. So no, Louis will not just go home, or back to join his mates at the hospice. He pulls his phone from his pocket, sends a quick text to Niall, then turns off his phone. His own work can wait.
*


After the tea seeps for five minutes, Louis offers her the steaming mug. "Here you go, Rae." Helps her sit up. She accepts it with a groggy smile. "I've found some honey and put that in, s'good for your throat and the tea is ginger for your stomach. You know, in case your tummy is feeling sour. I couldn't find a thermometer, but I've got you a cold flannel instead and- what?" Louis cuts off his rambling because of this goofy little smile set on Rae's lips.
She blinks slowly at him, tilting her head until she grimaces in pain. "You are very sweet." She states, voice already losing its volume. "Thermometer is in the upstairs bathroom."

When Louis comes back with the little white device in his hand, Rae is gone from the couch. He finds her in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water. "Didn't I tell you to stay put?" He reprimands, crossing his arms.

"Burnt my tongue." Rae answers, sticking out said tongue and looking like a little child. A sick, very pale, child. "And bills..." she gestures to the mail, "have to pay..." She sways on the spot, catching herself on the counter. "Louis..."

Louis rushed over to her the moment she stumbled, one arm around her waist, the other holding her hand. "Let's get you upstairs, love. Bills can wait."

The trek upstairs is slow, but they finally make it to her room. She insists on taking a shower first ("as long as it isn't too hot") and makes Louis promise not to leave just yet. In case she slips on soap and knocks herself out, it's highly probable. Louis heads back to her room, after he got voice confirmation that she was safely in the shower, with the cup of tea from minutes earlier placing it carefully on the bedside table. He was handed medicine from Rae, which he pours into the little plastic cup and sets it next to the tea.

He then tackles her unmade bed, a common thing they share -why fix it if its just going to be messed up again- and in fact, straightens out the fluffy black and white duvet, awaiting for its sickly owner. There's not much else he can do besides wait for her to finish, so Louis' curiosity gets the best of him, opts to occupy the time by glancing up and looking around her room.

He's instantly memorized by the details; four walls painted a light teal color, each section decorated accordingly to the different subjects Rae seems to have assigned them. The wall, where the length of her bed is pushed up against in the corner beneath the window, is littered with different shaped picture frames, all placed strategically to form a large block-shaped heart. The one connecting to the framed wall is branded with different pictures of famous landmarks from different countries, Paris seeming to be a running theme in that category; along with pictures of sunsets and rises.

A white table desk that matches the nightstand, is pushed against the wall, with her laptop opened in sleep mode. The third wall is manly made up of her closet, sliding mirrored doors, with photo-booth strips taped along the sides. The last wall, opposite her bed is simple, decorated with pieces of artwork, all signed by the same person with a VD swirled on each bottom left corner. Beneath the art is a black velvet circle chair, next to a black cushioned top trunk. Louis' eyes scan upward to the very top of the room, where the white ceiling meet the teal walls, where the soft glow of light catches his attention.

Said source of light is a strand of Christmas lights strung along the entire room, casting tiny little spots of gold against the walls. Connected to the lights on the covered wires, between each little bulb, are strings. Strings that hang a few inches, with Polaroid pictures clipped to each end. It fits her, he thinks, if a room could fit anyone's personality perfectly. The three colors balance each other out and Louis think it may possibly balance out Rae, who seems to have a running theme of black and white with just a splash of color.

Her dresser top filled with little trinkets and dried out roses, candles and a wooden jewelry box, sitting next to an Eiffel tower shaped lamp. A broken tripod leans against one of the corners, stuffed animals sat on the trunk, detailed cushioned pillows in the chair, and something beneath the bed poking out under the metal frame. He wants to push whatever it is back where it was most likely hidden from sight, when he sees a stack of printed Polaroids on the desk. So he occupies the rest of his waiting time by looking through them. He's on the last picture, an empty street with big tall trees with intertwined branches that hang over the road, when he hears Raelyn rasp out his name.

"Alright?" Louis inquires, leaning lightly against the frame of the door.

Rae has the door cracked opened, one of her blue eyes, popping out more in color against the smeared khol, staring straight at his own. "Forgot clothes." She mumbles, then turns her head to cough, followed by another groan. "M'dresser."

"Right." Louis fidgets, because he's just about to go through a lady's dresser, also containing the articles of clothing worn underneath. Though he's made some crude jokes and not so appropriate antics with girls knickers, he's not willing to just do that now. He can be a gentleman when he wants.

He sets to it, figuring the bottom would be the safest and pulls out a pair of blue joggers. The second one up holds some worn out t-shirts, grabbing a white one with the Spice Girls logo on it, and hesitates for the top drawer. He slowly pulls it open, only to find it filled with piles on piles of film rolls and memory cards and broken old cameras. Right, so it's the second to last top drawer then. He quickly opens it, feels around without looking and grasping what could possibly be a bra and pants, and closes it again.

"Here you go." Louis announces, shoving his hand through the crack to present her clothes. He waits a minute before he hears a low chuckle that quickly turns into a round of coughs.

"Lou..." Rae reopens the door so her face sticks out. "D'you look blindfolded? Last I've check-" she coughs again- "socks are not underwear." She coughs deeper this time, sniffles her nose and leans her forehead against the door. "They wont bite ya. Please Louis."

"Sorry!" Louis apologizes, meaning it earnestly. She's looking worse by the second.

He goes back once more, grabs the right undergarment (he is only a weak man after all and spares a curious glance just to make sure he didn't grab another pair of socks. He grabbed the right thing alright; a black and pink, lace up the sides pair 'same as a bikini' he reminds himself. And dear Lord, the girl is fucking sick to death and Louis will go to hell) and waits again.
Once Rae is finally dressed properly, she stumbles to her room and flops down on her bed. Louis gently forces her to take the medicine and at least have several sips of the tea before she's allowed to sleep. Despite her weak protests, Louis tucks her in, feels her forehead with a frown, then gently sticks the thermometer he found in her mouth. It beeps when it's ready, the little digital letters reading back to him at 37.8 Celsius. He's about to turn away, after wishing her a good rest and feel betters, when his hand is grasped tightly.

"Stay..." Rae mutters, raspy, groggy and sleep heavy. Her eyelids dropping by the second. Louis nods, because how could he say no, but she's out before she can see it. He wasn't planning on leaving anyway.
*


Morning comes with a pounding headache and a nose so stuffed it wakes Rae up because she can't properly breathe. Her body feels weighed down and over heated and it takes her a good minute to realize it's her covers causing it, so she throws them off, only to cry out weakly as her muscles ache. She's sweaty, the short hairs by her temples sticking and curling to her skin, coughing something terrible that stabs at her throat and ears when she does. She sits up slowly, trying to remember how she got into bed when she finally spots someone lounging on her circle chair.

"Jesus." She hisses, only because he scared her, coughing her into her elbow. Her words sear through her throat and her heart is pounding against her chest when she sees Louis, staring alertly back at her, cup of tea in his hands. "How-why-" she coughs again -"ugh, idoncare."

Louis chuckles under his breath. "Brought you home from the Hospice, remember? You're quite sick."

"Spotted." Rae deadpans, flopping backwards on her pillow. "You've been here all night?"

"Yeah..."

There's a pause before, "I asked you to stay, didn't I?"

Louis clears his throat. "Yes...so I did."

"Bloody mental?" Rae ask, sitting up again, this time a little too fast. The room spins around her.

"'S'cuse me?"

"I'm sick." Rae hears a hushed sarcastic "spotted" from Louis and chooses to ignore it. "You'll get sick t-" A coughing fit cuts off her words. God she's talking, why is she still talking.

Louis comes to sit on her bed, handing her the mug of tea and urging her to drink. "Nah, I've got a great immune system, I do. Besides, we've got to get you better for Ronan."

Rae makes a surprised sound against the mug, hurriedly setting it down on the night table. She makes an attempt to get out of bed, but Louis stops her by grabbing her bicep.

"He's fine, Raelyn. Harry said he loved the story they read and he says for you to hurry back so he can give you his pudding cup to make you feel better." Louis recites the last part in his best Ronan voice. It at least has a smile tugging at Rae's lips before her eyes flutter.

"Mmk...Lou..." Rae frowns, her voice gravely, "m'sick."

Louis trails his hand up her arm, feeling up her neck, to her cheek, until he rests it in her forehead. "Fuck, you're burning up."

He reaches for the thermometer handing it to Rae. But her eyes are closed and she looks so pale and meekly. So gently, he places it in her mouth trying to get her to hold it. Her fingers barely brush over Louis' knuckles before slipping down and loosely holding onto his wrist. The thing beeps several moments later, and Louis swears under his breath again. Her fever is now at 39, causing for some concern. He lays her back down an hurries to wet another flannel, soaking it with cold water. When he returns, he sees Rae shivering now under the duvet. He places the cloth on her forehead, carefully watching her face as her eyelids flutter again. She falls asleep before Louis tells her he's taking her to the doctor.

*

Rae sleeps for two more hours, wakes up only to have Louis hand her her coat, slip on some warm socks and shoes and leads her into her car. With some reluctant info on which doctor's office she normally goes to and if she has any form of health insurance, he drives to the doctor, now both sitting in the waiting room. It takes fifteen minutes before Rae is called in, dozing off against Louis' shoulder as he figures out a way to inconspicuously pay for the bill. She insists he stays in the waiting area, twiddling his thumbs and listening to the news report, until she comes out another 20 minutes later. Rae is clutching a hand at her throat and giving the doctor who walks out with her a rather heated look, or what would be heated if the heat wasn't already gathered up in her forehead. She goes to pay, only to be declined and told that her friend she came with already paid. She glares at Louis for all of two seconds before promptly leaning against him as they walk out, a slip for prescription medicine in hand.

Louis learns she does indeed have the flu and the look on Raelyn's face when she came out was due to the Strep Throat test the doctor insisted on doing. Rae informs her mother as Louis stands at the counter of the drug store getting her medicine. He takes her back home and she only makes it as far as the couch before passing out after taking the medicine needed. She's curled up against Louis, head resting in his lap, looking like a little bundled up kitten beneath the duvet he dragged from her room. He knows she sick, knows that he could actually catch the flu from her at any minute, but he honestly doesn't care.
Not with the way she curls one hand under her chin as the other rests against his thigh. or the way her nose scrunches up when he makes her drink the throat coat, or the way she smiles a little because the medicine tastes like bubble gum. Or the way she seems to reach out for him, like shes reassuring herself that Louis is indeed still there and hasn't left. He figures Rae has some form of abandonment issues for her to keep checking, having seen it in himself when he was younger wither his own father, than his step-father. Figures maybe, Rae's reasoning is the same on the father aspect; he hasn't seen any pictures nor hears any mention of her father besides that one time in Ronan's room three months ago.

Halfway through the third Harry Potter movie Louis found on the telly as he flipped through channels, Rae stirs. Well, no really. Rae doesn't just shift in her sleep, she full on jerks, her once relaxed curled up hand jumps to her chest and her eyebrows furrow so deep Louis is sure it'll leave premature wrinkles. Rae has mentioned having nightmares before, this being the first time Louis sees it in action and tries to gently wake her up. Pull her out of whatever depths her mind is playing tricks on.

"Raelyn," He nudges her softly, taking her hand away from her chest. He carefully pushes back her hair, damp at the roots because she's sweating again and she has a fever, her skin warm and clammy. "Rae, wake up."

It only proceeds to make her toss and turn and Louis has to quickly grab hold of her so she doesn't fly off the couch onto the wood floor. He tries again, lightly tapping her cheek and saying her name a little louder. Of course, Rae finally wakes up, but its during the scene in the movie where Harry tries to save and defend Sirius from the Dementors, all dark and horrible soul-sucking sounds. Rae gasps sharply, bolting up and fighting off Louis' hands like he himself is a Dementor or whatever it is in her dream that's causing her to completely freak out.

"Don't take him." Rae repeats in a mantra, words running together into one, shaking her head back and forth.

Her voice is weak, raspy, and her working herself up like this can not be good for already weakened health. So Louis takes hold of her face, pressing his forehead against hers. Who cares if he gets sick, he doesn't give a flying fuck if he does because bringing Rae back to reality is what's important and not somem 39 celsius fevered flu. It takes two minutes to finally get her to come back to him, lots of encouraging words and gentle strokes of his thumbs. His voice being the only thing she listens to and not whatever is in her head. To focus on him and him alone, and he'd like to think, in a spot of not knowing what else to do, that his tender kiss on her forehead -her skin burning beneath his lips- that brings her back.

"Off." Rae whispers, eyes flickering to the TV, which had already turned off, figuring the darkness of that scene wouldn't help the situation; if he only knew how close it was to her actual nightmare.

"It's off, it's gone. It was only a nightmare, yeah? It can't hurt you." Louis tells her softly, dropping his hands to her shoulders. "Y'Alright?"

She nods once, both hands clutching his shirt and leans forward. The hug is a little awkward, what with her face pressed firmly into his chest and his arms at weird angles on her back. She stays like that for all of five seconds before she is shoving Louis back, springs up and dashes into the bathroom, just in time to be sick in the toilet.

*

Louis stays. H takes care of Raelyn, brings her tea, gives homemade soup that Harry brings over after inquiring her address from Louis, to which Harry tells Rae that it is perfectly okay if she doesn't want to eat it right now. He also brought along a brown paper bag the soup was in, consisting of little things each boy put it. Liam, a packet of saltine crackers and all types of ginger based things; soda, snaps, tea, roots, powder. Zayn dropped in his favorite movie to watch when he gets sick, 10 Things I Hate About You, which doubles as his guilty pleasure that no one but the boys know about and "It's a bloody good movie and severely underrated, so fuck off". Niall put in a mini bottle of whiskey with a hand written note saying to add just a shot or two to a steaming hot cup of tea, should sweat the fever right out and give you the best nights sleep.

Rae's internally grateful, after she calls them all absolute dorks for caring so much about her. She skips both the soup and crackers, but sips at the ginger soda while curled up once again watching the movie Zayn gave. Apparently young Heath Ledger makes her heart swoon and she feels better enough to just finally call her mother and give her to details of her sickness. Both Harry and Louis don't go back home until Rae is snuggled up in her bed, an empty cup of whiskey tea on her nightstand, and her mother thanking them sincerely, ushering them out only because she cares and doesn't want them to catch what her daughter has.

Louis thinks, as Harry drives them home, he'd probably catch the flu anyway, due to hardly leaving her side and kissing her forehead in the aftermath of her nightmare, which he probably shouldn't have done. He realizes he just spent a good 36 hours with a sick Raelyn, not minding one bit. Its a bit of clarity to him, when he realizes that he absolutely does not like her. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. And if he just quoted the tenth thing on Kat's list of the 10 Things she hates about Patrick (which honestly is the 10 things she probably loves the most about him), then so be it. Because that's what happens when you spend a day with a sick friend, who he just realized he has feelings.
He quotes romantic comedies. Fuck.

*************************************************************************************

Notes

First, thanks for reading. Second, if anyone read my little comments, thank you for baring with. For instance, this was the comment I left when I posted this chapter the first time.
"I do not. Like. This chapter was hell. Why? Because I was typing and editing and merging chapters together to form this long one (4,000+ words) and THEN MY FUCKING COMPUTER WAS LIKE HEY LET ME RESTART FOR NO REASON. I about flipped everything in my house. like, I cried. Cried those "are you fucking kidding me" tears of blood because all my fucking hard work, right? But thank you the program I was using while I typed because it SAVED IT ALL. Now here it is. It is 4:44 fucking am. Goodnight. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did not."