Sebastian moaned as he slid out of his blazer, too tired to even kick off his shoes, flopping down horizontally over his bed, letting his head hang down over the side so his sinuses might stand the chance of draining. Two weeks in this cesspit of a school. Two whole weeks. That's all it took for him to catch the plague or God knows what from these peasants. Two mother-fudging weeks.

School was a breeze. Always had been, always would be. Math made sense. Science made sense. History was in the past, and, in all honesty, who really had the energy to care when Columbus found the Spice Islands or who the first five presidents were? Sebastian certainly didn't.

God, his head hurt.

This sucked. It really did. School sucked. Life sucked. His throat freaking sucked. His room-mate, Jeff, sucked. Or, at least, that's what his boyfriend Nick would have them all believe.

Damn, those lights were bright. Goddammit. Why had he not thought to turn them off earlier?

There were footsteps outside his room, growing louder, each beat sending a new spike of pain through his temples. Don't let it be Jeff. Anyone but that garish blonde, with his shiny peroxide hair and obnoxious accent and LOUD voice. Please. Don't let it be –

"Hey, Seb!"

… Fantastic. What had he done to deserve this?

"You ready for rehearsal?"

Footsteps. Getting louder. He cringed. And God, his throat tickled. Dammit. He didn't want to cough.

A grinning face appeared, upside-down, near his own. God. He just looked so happy. And energetic. And everything that Sebastian really couldn't care to be right now. He was so bright it almost hurt. Or maybe that was just his chest. He didn't know.

He swallowed. He really had to cough.

"What the bloody hell are ya doin' down there, mate?"

Oh, God. Two weeks and he could already recognise the concern in Jeff's voice from the strengthened accent.

Not. Going. To. Cough.

He cleared his throat, and sat up… and promptly choked. Fine. He coughed. Once. Twice. A few more times… deep and rattling and scraping right at the back of his throat and chest and harsh enough to force tears out his eyes.

"Jesus Christ! Ya right there?"

Ughhhhhh. Did he have to answer?

"Here." Jeff pressed his water bottle from his bedside table into his hands.

"I'mb find," he finally managed to get out, eyes streaming. At least his nose was a little less congested… he could breathe through it at least now. Though he couldn't quite explain away how his voice had magically decided to drop half an octave or so.

"Yeah, you sure sound 'find'," Jeff teased him, rubbing him on the back. Seriously? The sheer nerve of the boy… though it was helping him get some of the gunk out of his lungs. God, they'd filled up quickly… "We, uh… You gotta come to rehearsal though. Even if ya don't sing. Otherwise the council won't take you seriously."

"Whadever," Sebastian brushed it off, trying to ignore the tickle that had reignited itself in his nose. Well, he definitely wasn't weak. He could do rehearsal. Eyes closed. Hands tied behind his back. Ugh. He definitely should have taken some Tylenol earlier. Ah well. Too late now. He forced himself to his feet, passing off the violent shivers as shrugging his blazer on again, wrapping a scarf tightly around his neck as they started down the hall to the music room. So, it was September and 90 degrees outside. Shut up.

Jeff still had an arm around him. God, he must be sick. He couldn't even bring himself to care any more. Everything just hurt. So Goddamn much. Standing up made it worse. He just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. And now he was shivering and Jeff was frowning and he was coughing again and it was so hard and he had to bend over… Jeff brought him over to a bench and God, he was so dizzy, and he really needed to sneeze and just… ugh. He didn't even have the energy to swear.

"On second thought…" Jeff brushed the back of his hand across Sebastian's forehead. "Maybe we should just skip rehearsal and head to the nurse… You sound like crap, mate."

No. He couldn't do that. Breathe. Breathe again. Swallow. Water. Good. Okay. "Do. I'b ogkay. Led's go sigg, alrighd?" And don't sneeze. Not allowed to sneeze. No matter how much snot he had stuck up there, blocking any form of air again…

He sniffed. Okay, so maybe he could wipe his nose a little. Unattractive, sure, but better than walking around with slime dripping down onto your lip.

God, he missed his mom. She'd always been there, to make him soup and tuck his covers in and just hold him and make him feel safe. But she was gone now. She was never coming back.

"Seb… You don't have to prove yourself, mate. Not if you can't stand or breathe or, ya know, move."

"Do." He shivered again, sniffled again. Damn. He didn't need anyone's pity. He'd had enough of that already. "I wadd to go to rehearsal. I'b fide, ogkay?"

"Mate, If you put D's on the end of your words, you are most certainly not 'fide'."

"If you ca'tt begid a sedtedce withoud the word, bate, you're id do positiod to judge." … Not your best call there, Sebastian. You're getting weak. Out of practise…. Or maybe the fever's just starting to take over your brain.

Jeff shook his head. Far out. The light reflecting off his hair… it hurt. It hurt so much. "You're an arse, Sebastian. I'm just trying to help." He stood up, feet thudding on the floor, like he was stepping straight onto his sinuses. Pacing. Angry. Why was Jeff angry? What right did Jeff have to be angry? He wasn't sick. He wasn't hated by his father. He wasn't blamed for… but, no. Not allowed those thoughts. He felt terrible enough already.

"Heh…" No. Not allowed to sneeze. But it tickled… Maybe another sniff ought to do it…

Jeff stopped pacing, at least. Stood watching. No. He was NOT going to sneeze. No… And Jeff was most certainly NOT going to see it.

"Heh… Heh…" Fighting a losing battle. Jeff sat back down, passing him a tissue…

He sniffed again. No! That made it worse!

"Hep-choo! Heh… Hep-choo! Heh… Hep-CHOO!"

"Bless you."

Fine. Defeat. "Thacks." Okay, he had to cough again.

But Jeff was still there. "Look, you're an idiot. But I'm used to stubborn idiots – I roomed with Blaine for a year, for Christ sake. So, if you say you're fine and want to go to rehearsal, then we'll go to rehearsal. But you look like crap, you sound like a seal crawled down your throat and died, and honestly, I'm surprised to see you still standing. But, at the very least, if you do want to go to rehearsal, we have Tylenol locked in the council drawer, and enough cough lollies to survive a zombie apocalypse spread via aerosols. And I don't care if I have to sit on your chest and pinch your nose and force-feed you, but you are getting meds if we end up there. Or else we can either go back to bed, or go see the nurse and get you better. So… what's it gonna be?"

The tickle was back. His head was about to explode. His eyes were boiling, his body was freezing, his throat was on fire and his chest had an anvil on it. "Rehearsal." He couldn't appear weak… but, God, his nose was full of hot coals. He should probably warn Jeff. Jeff would never forgive him if he sprayed him with snot everywhere. But he barely had time to even think about it before he'd turned his head aside, sneezing into his elbow, each one sending a new jolt of pain coursing through his body.

"Bless you." Jeff sighed, dragging an arm of Sebastian's around his neck. "Come on. Lean on me."

"I dod't deed to," he protested. But it was all in vain when barely half the corridor had passed and he tripped.

"It's alright, mate. I gotcha." Well… okay, he had to give Jeff some credit. They were actually going to rehearsal… He hadn't tried to force him anywhere, like so many people had in the past. He'd only just gotten out of hospital. He didn't need to prove himself. He needed people to trust him. Trust his judgement. Which Jeff mysteriously seemed to be doing. If they were heading to the nurse, they would have turned off at that last hallway. But they kept crawling along, Sebastian's eyes closing briefly as he stumbled, actually fully trusting someone for once. God. He just felt so awful. He couldn't even think of any other words to use… he could barely think at all. Only about putting one foot in front of the other… glimpsing the choir room door through eyes bleary with fatigue and fever… Jeff's hand under his arm, around his chest. So… warm…

"Sebastian!"

"Dude…"

"Are you okay?"

"What's wrong with him?"

That last voice. Not dreamy. Breaking through the fog in his brain. That last voice was Thad's. Had to be. The European accent, almost New York-like.

"I'b fide," he repeated. "I dod't ged sigck." So when he did, he got hit hard… really hard…

Jeff deposited him on one of the couches. It must be. It was soft and supportive. "Trent, drugs. Please." There was the sound of material, and he felt something around his shoulders, someone tucking it around him. Box of tissues to his left. Bottle of water squished under his arm.

His chest was itching again.

"I'b dot sigck," he repeated to anyone that would listen. He wasn't. His body was just temporarily incapacitated. It wasn't a weakness. Just an inconvenience.

"You keep tellin' yourself that, mate," Jeff humoured him, brushing some of the hair back from his face. Sebastian sneezed a couple more times. God, he was just so tired. Everyone was so far away… in another universe… He was so warm…

His eyes fluttered…

"Is he actually asleep?"

"Do," Sebastian coughed weakly.

Jeff glanced over his shoulder, at the shivering lump, pale as death, bloodshot eyes… In all honesty, he… well, the PC way of phrasing it would probably be "didn't understand him". Sebastian was cold, haughty, arrogant… but Jeff wasn't Wes' friend and Nick's boyfriend for nothing… He couldn't bring himself to hate him yet. He just… didn't understand him. There was so much hidden under there. This stupid "nothing can harm me" attitude. Man, was that familiar. "He's doing a Blaine on us," the blonde announced. "I figure, well, he's new. I know he's not the most… inviting… person in the world, but I want to gain his trust. I mean, I room with him. I want to help him. And, if nothing else, it might make living with him a little more pleasant…"

"Ooooh, look who's already stepping into Wes' shoes," David teased him, inviting him to take his place at the centre of the council table.

But Jeff shook his head. "He's, um… he's kinda got a deathlock on my hand…"

Sebastian sniffed. "You're all shidy like a elepha-tt. You're by teddy bear, Jeffy."

The Australian turned his head to the sky. The boy was delirious. Of course. Another one. "How do they always find me?"

"Well, I guess we better get started then," Thad began nervously, banging the gavel. "We've got a few more auditions today, and I think Jeff brought a new arrangement for us to try… So, Joel, why don't we start with you? What are you going to sing for us? And then we'll have a blind vote."

Jeff leant back against the couch, feeling his roomie randomly cough or sniff and splutter, the heat just pouring off him, warming the entire couch… But Joel had to have his attention, so his attention he would receive.

But as soon as the boy had finished singing and received a standing ovation – no vote needed for that one – Jeff leant back, head turned to look up at the couch. His hand was no longer in a vice, he suddenly realised… Sebastian was asleep. Snuffling a little, still coughing occasionally, but asleep.

Next, Adrian and Nathan both auditioned. Jeff was just about to hand out his arrangement – You're the Voice, actually, because he thought he may as well at the very least educate the Warblers in some of the more amazing Aussie anthems – when they were yet again interrupted by the sick boy.

Sebastian started at first, with just a sneeze. It didn't seem to break him out of his slumber… But then he started thrashing around, moaning. Oh, God. Jeff had already seen a few of those nightmares. And nothing he'd tried yet was able to wake him… "Mbomby…" Oh, God. This wasn't the first time he'd cried for his mother either…

He couldn't do it. Jeff wanted to just ignore it, to pretend like nothing was happening. Try to get the boys to do the same. But he couldn't do it… He dropped the papers on the council desk then hurried back to the couch. Trying not to cringe at the warmth, he brushed some of the sweat-plastered fringe off his forehead – the boy needed a haircut – pulled the blankets down a little… maybe if he cooled off a tad… Tried calling his name, but that didn't work.

Then Trent came up, put a hand on Jeff's shoulder. Wiped the sweat glistening Sebastian's pasty face with a cold facewasher, then put it on his forehead. Then, kneeling by his head, he began to sing.

Hushabye, don't you cry.

Go to sleep my little baby.

Jeff joined his voice, with Nick and David creating a smooth four-part harmony.

When you wake, you shall have

All the pretty little horses.

Blacks and bays, dapples and greys,

All the pretty little horses.

The rest of the Warblers started singing from their positions… like Blackbird. They just instantly knew their parts.

Sebastian seemed to calm down a little. He'd stopped crying, his arms moving a bit but he'd stopped kicking… Little did any of them know that his mother had used to sing this to him, long ago, when he was a small child, when the monsters in the dark, whether the imaginary ones in the closet and under the bed or the somewhat more physically manifested ones eating his father, kept him awake, sent him running into her arms… It was a song of grief, yes, but for him, one of comfort, of security, of warmth, of love.

Way down yonder in the meadow

Poor little baby crying, 'Mamma.'

Birds and the butterflies flutter round his eyes.

Poor little baby crying, 'Mamma.'

Hushabye, don't you cry.

Go to sleep my little baby.

When you wake, you shall have

All the pretty little horses.

Sebastian sneezed again, and lay still. Had it ended? Had Jeff finally found a way to help him? Those nightmares scared him almost as much as they must Sebastian… Waking up at 3 every morning to his roommate kicking and screaming and crying… Blaine was easy to deal with. All he needed was to be held. Sebastian was… obstinate and grossly independent unaccustomed to friendship. And every night it killed Jeff. He was so powerless, so defenceless. He just had to let the younger boy ride them out.

Well, maybe he wouldn't have to any longer…

Darkness falls and man calls

'Go to sleep my little baby.

When you wake, you shall have

All the pretty little horses.'

The Warblers had somehow managed to form a semi-circle around the couch, watching, as they broke into their final round. Wes would be proud, if he could see them now.

Hushabye, don't you cry.

Go to sleep, my little baby.

When you wake, you shall have

All the pretty little

All the pretty little

All the pretty little horses.

They waited, breath baited, slowly moving back to their original seats…

"Hey, that was kinda good," Joel said with a smile.

He was immediately set on by 20 Warblers. "Shhh," they told him, pointing at the couch. "Hush. He's sleeping."

Jeff tucked Sebastian in one last time before ushering the choir into the next room. Well, even if he was sick… at least the boy now had some momentary peace…

Why, hello there, my lieblings!

So... I've had a couple of people asking for a Sebastian sick!fic, and I was writing to the prompt word: hush. It was meant to be a drabble... but, of course, I can't actually bring myself to just stick to 500 words. I wrote and, well, this was the product. So I hope those of you like it. And, of course, I've actually really sort of enjoyed exploring him. I'm still not entirely sure of his voice yet. But there has to be something else to him - people aren't just mean for the sake of it. So I'm thinking I'll spread this one out (and yeah, I know, I've got to stop creating WIPs and, you know, finish some of the ones I have going, but, it's Sebastian and he's as much my baby now as any of the others...) Well, yeah. I have more of an idea where I want him to go. Or, not so much that, as what happened in his past, and sort of the life-stage he's at now and... yeah. Basically, I want to keep him going. :P

So, I hope you like it! Please let me know what you guys think too. I mean, I'm so uncertain of particularly his voice at this point in time so... yeah.

Also, I doubt this is... good or intense enough to cause pain (apart from how terrible the writing is) but if you guys ever need advice or to talk or anything at all - I'm always around. You can PM me here, or you can hit up my Ask box on Tumblr - pi-on-a-skateboard. tumblr. com . Whatever it is, you don't have to go through with it alone.

And now I'm running off to bed because it's 1 am :P

Like it? Hate it? Want my other WIPs to come to life and hit me with rusty spoons for neglecting them? Please let me know!

Keep smiling! :D