Daphnes is barely back on his feet again when the virus hits Link like a ton of bricks.

Granted, it was almost guaranteed to happen. It would have been more surprising if he hadn't managed to catch it. Going for days on only minimal rest plus the weight of emotional stress plus spending all your time in a germ-infested area is a complete recipe for disaster. The disaster, of course, is catching the virus and having it wreak havoc on your immune system in whichever way it pleases.

And wreak havoc it does. Link ends up with the short end of the stick in that the havoc starts off that morning not with aches and chills, but with a persistent queasiness and his body's all out rejection of any kind of nourishment that isn't clear and liquid. (And, after a short while, with more than a slight rejection of the clear liquids as well.)

This, naturally, leaves him beyond exhausted and confined completely to bed by mid-afternoon. Feeling horrible on top of dehydration leaves him utterly spent. He spends the majority of his time sleeping fitfully when he isn't busy throwing up virtually nothing, and throwing up virtually nothing when he isn't busy sleeping fitfully.

The King is sort of at a loss. Aryll has said this might happen when she'd first listed off all the possible symptoms, but he hadn't experienced this particular symptom himself. Still, he knows the basics of what to do (in that there isn't really a whole lot he can do until the bug works its way out of Link's system). All he can do for now is try to alleviate the worst of the discomfort, and Link certainly isn't complaining, so he figures back rubs and comforting words are probably his safest bet for the time being.

And then the chills and fever start up at the same time, which leaves him scrambling to hold a bucket under Link's chin while pressing a cool cloth to the back of his neck at the same time. It's a bit of a mess, but he doesn't know what else to do.

Needless to say, he's absolutely beside himself with worry—topped with the guilt of having been the one to pass this on to his semi-adopted son. He hadn't exactly been in his own right mind at the time, but he can't help but feel the weight of his own responsibility for the current situation. He hadn't considered the potential ramifications of allowing himself to be taken care of at the time—Link is usually so healthy and quick to bounce back from any scrape or bruise, he'd never thought something like this would bring him crashing down so quickly.

Aryll is summarily banned from his room for fear she might contract it as well, if she hasn't already. By extension, Grandma stays out of the way too, only coming in long enough to bring more water or broth. The King is thankful for both of their willingness to help, but if Link is this sick already, there's no telling how badly the virus would affect either of them. He's the only member of their little family who is effectively immune, since he'd already had and gotten over it. If either of them were to catch it as well…he's not really sure what he would do. He can only be in so many places at once, and he can't imagine the stress of caring for two people at the same time, let alone all three of them.

Thankfully, for the moment, he doesn't have to think about it too much. As long as they stay out of the way, there should be no need to fret. They both seem healthy enough, and he decides to dedicate his time to worrying over the one who needs worrying over at this exact moment.

Still, he doesn't regret the caretaker role he's been pushed into in the least. It's difficult to watch Link struggle like this, but he's glad for every ounce of comfort he can bring (even with the unglamorous duty of vomit cleanup). Sometimes Link wants to be held—particularly when the fever fluctuates and he's wracked with a horrible set of chills. It's at these times when the King feels most useful, using his own warmth to provide comfort. Other times, however, Link doesn't want to be touched by anything at all, mumbling apologetically as he pushes the blankets off the end of the bed (only for Daphnes to have to pick them up again ten minutes later as the cycle repeats itself over).

It's not completely thankless work, though. He can tell Link is grateful to have him there, despite the embarrassment at being seen at his weakest—and the rare moments when he can catch the child sleeping peacefully are more than enough to bolster his spirits and reassure him that this will all pass.

That doesn't make it any less heartbreaking to watch Link suffer, though. He's thankful he hadn't had such an upset stomach towards the beginning of his illness, but he would have taken it a thousand times over if it meant Link wouldn't have to go through this. But that's not the way the world works, so all he can do is watch and help where and when he can.

It's when Link begins refusing fluids altogether that they start to have a problem.

"Come on, son, you have to," he pleads, trying to pass a teaspoon of water between the boy's lips. It's only a teaspoon—they've figured out a system that allows him to get at least some hydration, even though it's a very laborious and time-consuming operation. Any fluids are better than no fluids, after all.

Link shakes his head, looking the very picture of misery, and tries to pull the covers up over his face again.

"Oh no you don't," Daphnes doesn't want to fight with him, but still pulls the blankets back down again. He doesn't want to have to do anything that will make Link any more uncomfortable than he already is. He's certainly in enough agony all on his own. But Daphnes has to draw the line somewhere, and that somewhere happens to be at the point where Link is doing himself more harm than good. "I know your stomach isn't feeling well, but it will be so much worse if you get dehydrated. One little spoonful, okay? Then we'll try some more in five minutes if it stays down."

Link shakes his head vigorously this time, then his eyes widen. Realizing what he's just done to himself—made completely dizzy at the worst possible time—the King quickly gets a hand behind his back, helping him get upright just in time to retch pitifully into the bucket by his feet. Hardly anything comes up, and Daphnes can offer no words of comfort as Link scrubs at his watery eyes and runny nose from exertion.

So much for those teaspoons, he sighs internally. Now there will be absolutely no convincing him to drink, even as he accepts the whole glass long enough to rinse the sour taste of bile out of his mouth. He can't say he entirely blames him, but at the same time it's frustrating to see someone refuse what is obvious they desperately need.

In addition to the one frustration is another, Daphnes thinks, because this is the first time he's really had the opportunity to care for Link properly. Along their journey he had offered advice and helped where he could, but the sheer nature of his form had prevented him from really doing anything when things got bad. He couldn't patch up scrapes or hold ice to bruises. Couldn't offer a proper hug during lonely or despondent times. Words and only words were the tools he had at his disposal, and now that he can do more, do better, that's all he can focus on.

Not that he wants to be completely overbearing, it's just that…well, maybe he does want that, just a little. Just enough to smother the boy in all the love he was unable to really give as a boat.

That sounds ridiculous even just in his head, but he doesn't have much time to ponder on it as Link whines, clamps a hand over his mouth, and makes the unfortunate decision to throw up through his fingers and onto the bed-sheets.

Daphnes sighs internally, strips the bedding off as Link tries to offer mortified apologies, and they start over again. Such is life.

By the next morning, the King is sore and exhausted from sitting in the uncomfortable chair he'd pulled up to Link's bedside, but one look at the child is enough to tell he'd had a much rougher night. Still, he accepts the very first spoonful of water Daphnes offers without complaint, and that's more than enough cause for celebration. Soon, he's drinking from the cup again, all signs of yesterday's horrible nausea completely gone, and things finally seem to be looking up again.

Until he starts coughing.

This particular symptom, the King is much more familiar with on a personal level, so he's not exactly surprised when it crops up sometime after what would normally be lunchtime. It sounds painful and harsh to his own ears, and he can only imagine how awful it must feel against Link's acid-burned throat. They're both in it for the long haul now, he suspects, and is proven more and more correct as the coughing continually gets worse as the day drags on.

It doesn't help that his fever is climbing, either. This surely must be the beginning of the dangerous spike in temperature that is characteristic of the virus. The King only has vague recollections of this time, but he knows damn well it's going to be unpleasant, uncomfortable, and inconvenient as far as the healing process goes. The knowledge that it's also a necessary step towards getting better isn't much of a comfort, in all honesty. It would be much, much better if they could simply fast-forward and skip to the part where Link begins to feel better already.

Sure enough, he's absolutely roasting by bedtime, and the tremors running through his slight frame are enough to shake the entire bed. The King feels a deep pang of sympathy as the boy pulls all his covers around himself in a desperate but fruitless attempt to stave off the imaginary chill. "Do you want me to hold you?" he offers. He has nothing else to give until the fever breaks.

Link nods, and Daphnes arranges himself on the bed so the boy can lay mostly in his lap. It doesn't seem to help the shuddering much, but he still seems more comfortable somehow. Perhaps its simply the closeness that gives him some semblance of relief. The King feels helpless as he watches the shallow breathing and hears the rattle of phlegm in his chest. He gently pats his back as another coughing fit starts up, wondering if this is really all he can do until the worst of it passes. He re-dampens the cloth on Link's forehead, and the boy makes a sound of displeasure as it is replaced, trying to shrug away from the coolness. This is one area in which Daphnes will not let up, however, so he reluctantly stills and allows the cloth to remain in place.

They stay like that for a long time, Daphnes absentmindedly stroking Link's hair or offering him sips of water in the moments when he isn't helping him through painful episodes of coughing. Link continues to shiver despite their shared body warmth and the mound of blankets he's hiding under. This is what the King had wanted to be able to do while they were still traveling together—it's in his fatherly instincts, after all—but he never would have wished for it to happen like this. If he had his way, Link would never have caught this to begin with, and they could be spending the evening doing literally anything else. He's thinking on the complexities of their situation—the long list of what would be preferable to this—when Link abruptly stills.

Has the fever broken? That was fast…perhaps a bit too fast? But the fact of the matter is, he's ceased shivering, at least for the moment. "Link?" he questions, wondering if he's truly recovering this quickly. That would be a miracle and a blessing to them both.

But Link doesn't open his eyes. Is he sleeping…?

Louder, he tries, "Link."

Again, no response.

The King begins to panic, resisting the urge to shake him. A quick check reveals he's still breathing, but what is—what's happening? Why won't he wake up? He's heard of people suffering brain damage from high temperatures, so maybe that's…? All while he was caught up in his own selfish, asinine thoughts. He should have been paying more attention. "Link!" he calls more forcefully, not wanting to startle him but at the same time needing to know he's alright. Needing to know he hasn't missed something crucial. Needing to—

He gets the answer he's looking for when Link suddenly leaps out of bed, getting completely tangled in his blankets on the way down. He scrambles, nearly falling—and would certainly have cracked his head on the bed-frame if not for the King's quick reflexes.

"Easy, easy, relax," Daphnes soothes, gently tugging his charge back into bed, "What's the matter? What happened?"

The shaking returns in full-force and Link scurries out of his grasp, huddling into one corner of his bed. His eyes are wide, surveying the room rapidly as if he expects to be attacked at any moment. He's trying to make himself as small as possible—less of a target—to whatever he thinks is out to get him at the present moment.

Daphnes quickly realizes he must be delirious. He has very little experience in dealing with situations like these, but he knows he can't simply sit there and do nothing. He decides to take it as slowly as he can manage. "Link, look at me," seems like a good place to start.

Link does, but only long enough to rule him out as a threat before his eyes go back to flitting around his surroundings, searching out those imaginary enemies produced by his stressed and frazzled psyche.

"Do you know where you are?" the King tries instead. If he doesn't, he's not sure what he'll do…

A deep, shuddering breath in, followed by several painful-sounding coughs. Then a head-shake. The King's heart drops—but then, tentatively, a nod. Thank goodness for that.

He continues on. "Do you know who I am?"

Link takes a moment away from looking around to stare at him. It's almost like he's looking right through him, and the King has to admit it's a little unsettling. Still, he receives another nod, frantic this time, as an answer. That's a relief, but nothing he says seems to have any sort of calming effect. He'll have to try a different tactic…

"May I touch you?"

A long pause, Link thinking hard on the matter. He blinks. Then, slowly this time, nods again.

Ever so cautiously, the King eases himself up onto the bed, leaning with his back against the wall. He waits for Link to take the initiative and crawl into his lap once more. He's still looking nervously around the room, though, and Daphnes can feel his heart pounding in his chest between full-body shivers. Carefully, he leans down to retrieve the blankets from the floor, wrapping them both in a sort of protective cocoon.

"Do you still see what you were seeing before?" he wonders if the fit has passed.

A head-shake. Even despite the fever, Daphnes can see the tips of his ears going pink. Is he embarrassed…? He certainly hopes not, but that seems the most likely candidate.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Sometimes it's best to let these things out into the open, he knows.

Another negative.

"Okay, you don't have to. I just need you to know that you are safe. When I am here, you will always be safe. I will protect you from anything that frightens you. You don't have to be worried or embarrassed that I won't believe you." Link shifts awkwardly in his lap, confirming his suspicions. "You are not feeling well, and your mind is playing tricks on you, but that's no reason you should have to feel alone. I will be here."

Link makes a small contented noise—which leads to a not-so-small coughing fit.

Glad that he's been heard, glad that Link knows he's not alone, and glad to have such a brilliant little light in his life, the King rubs his back.

They sit in silence for a long time—the King, listening to Link's unsteady breathing, and Link slowly drifting in and out of hazy consciousness as the fever burns within him. Daphnes isn't sure which one of them truly drops off first (he suspects it may be him) but he makes sure to lay a gentle hand across Link's chest, just in case he should need him. Just in case he needs reassurance that he's still there to make good on his promise.

Link's fever breaks sometime in the middle of the night.

Daphnes awakens the next morning to a sweaty, exhausted child in his lap, snoozing away under the weight of last night's events. He touches Link's forehead, finding only the barest hint of excess warmth there, and feels a huge flood of relief. The worst is over. Link stirs, just slightly, and presses his face more firmly into the King's cool touch.

It'll be a few more drowsy days of bed-rest before he's feeling entirely like himself again, Daphnes knows. But these few more days will be nothing compared to the previous two, and everything is really, truly, definitely going to be fine now.

Daphnes smiles down at him and settles himself in for the long run, finding he doesn't much mind this part at all.