An hour into the ordeal, Shiro changed his mind.

"This was a bad idea," he gasped. He was curled up in a ball at the head of his bed, now, surrounded with a swamp of blankets and sheets, one pillow under his head and another clutched in his hands against his stomach in a failed attempt to quell the nausea that came from swallowing just...a lot of snot. A lot of it. He had expelled a lot, too, but Lance knew how colds worked. There was a lot of snot in Shiro's stomach right now.

"I told you," Lance said, because fair was fair. Shiro had asked for this in every conceivable way. It didn't mean that Lance didn't feel sorry for him, because he did, but it did mean that Lance didn't feel guilty. He was blameless here.

Okay, he could have not told Shiro about the scleret, even risking Shiro's wrath when he later found out about its existence. Or he could have not bought any in the first place. Or he could have picked a different apothecary shop.

Yeah, okay, no more going down that rabbit hole. It went nowhere good. Lance had done his duty. He had tried to warn Shiro off, and he hadn't listened, and now they were here.

Lance sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed Shiro's back in firm circles, the way he knew felt the best when your body was overloaded with sensations. "This is what you get for reneging on your promise to let me be in charge," he said. "If you'd let me make the call on which herb to use, this wouldn't be happening."

"You were on board," Shiro muttered into the pillow. "I said you didn't have to, and you just went all, 'Watch me be awesome, I'm gonna be so awesome.'"

"First off, that's a terrible impression of me," Lance said, rubbing a little harder. "Secondly, you manipulated me. I'm Allura's top choice for diplomat amongst the paladins, you think I can't tell when someone is playing to my weaknesses? Just because I let you do it doesn't mean I can't tell when it's happening."

Shiro groaned.

"And thirdly, I am being awesome," Lance said, a touch peevish. "I'm the best nurse you've ever had. Don't lie to me and tell me differently."

Shiro sighed, then started coughing. It was violent and awful and wrenching, and Lance leaped to get another cloth from the pile on the table and hold it beneath his mouth. Shiro convulsed and drooled and spat into the cloth, expelling more phlegm. It was dark yellow now, another testament to how much worse he'd gotten.

Eventually Shiro finished and fell back on the pillow, shuddering and hiding his face. Lance removed the cloth, then went about making up a cup of tangy juice, diluted with enough water to make it easy on Shiro's stomach. He moved around to the other side of the bed and bent over on his knees next to the Shiro-ball so he could hold the cup in front of Shiro's face.

"Come on, big guy. Lift your head. You gotta keep your fluids up."

Shiro lifted his face enough to look up at him, eyes a little too blank and distant. His cheeks were wet now, not just with sweat, but with tears, too. They were still leaking out of his eyes. Lance grimaced, and his voice went softer. "Ah, I'll help you, okay?"

He switched the cup to his other hand, and got his right under Shiro's head to lift him up. Shiro was heavy, but compliant, and Lance managed to hold the cup to his lips and get him to drink a few sips. It was slow, but Shiro got some down. Then he closed his lips and his eyes in silent resistance, and Lance let his head rest on the pillow again.

He blew out a breath and traveled around to the table to set the cup down. Then back to his spot cross-legged on the bed, rubbing Shiro's back. "Are you cold?" Earlier he had gone on a whirlwind tour of the room, gathering up every single blanket and comforter and towel he could find when Shiro was shivering violently and couldn't get warm. Now the various fabrics formed a wadded up nest around Shiro's body, thrown off when the fever had made him start to overheat.

"No. Still too hot," Shiro said softly. "Thanks for asking."

"No biggie."

They fell silent, Shiro too miserable to speak and Lance unable to think of anything to say. The banter had been fun while it had lasted, though. Lance wanted to bring it back, but it seemed cruel to poke at Shiro again when he hadn't invited it.

"Lance," Shiro murmured.

"Mmhmm?" Lance barely listened, concentrating on giving a comforting backrub.

"You are definitely the best nurse I've ever had."

Lance's mouth twitched. He didn't want to smile, because it sounded like Shiro was approaching delirium and probably not even aware of what he was saying, but yeah. That was really sweet. Lance's cheeks were heating up.

"Sure," he said. "I bet you're only saying that because the only other nurse you've ever had was Keith, and he sucks at being nice to people."

"No," Shiro said seriously, rather than responding to Lance's joking tone. "There was my mom, too. And an actual nurse when I got in a motorcycle accident in high school and had a compound fracture in my leg. And Coran about three times."

Lance blinked. "Dude. Did you seriously just say that I'm a better nurse than your mom?"

Shiro hummed reluctantly. "Well..."

Lance laughed. "Okay, got it. I won't tell anyone. Our secret."

"Thanks." Shiro let out a muffled whimper and shifted slightly. "This really sucks."

Lance's voice went soft. "Yeah." He moved his hand up to Shiro's head and started scraping through his hair.

"I know I've felt worse in the past," Shiro said, voice distant. "I've been through a lot of horrible things, and some of them hurt worse than this. But I can't remember them that well, and right now this seems to be the only thing that matters. It's really...really bad."

"I know." Lance wrinkled up his face, though Shiro couldn't see him. "Pain in memories is never as bad as pain in the present. Your mind can't, like, process it that well. Or every time you remembered something painful you'd be a screaming mess again."

Shiro huffed out a laugh. "I practically am. Every time I have a flashback, I'm the most useless person on the team."

"No." Quiet. Fierce. "You're strong, Shiro. You're the strongest person I know. The flashbacks...yeah, they're a problem. But we've learned to deal with them. You're not useless. You're never useless."

Shiro didn't seem to be listening to him, too caught up in what his body and mind were doing to him at the moment. "I really am sorry I didn't listen to you. This was a bad idea. Not just because I feel like death right now, but also because I'm being such a nuisance to you."

Lance opened his mouth to respond, but Shiro was still going. His voice was soft and wandering, but clear.

"You... You all really like exploring new planets, but especially you, Lance, you always take such joy in it... You love meeting new people, seeing new sights, trying new foods and playing with new toys... I bet you had a really good time visiting the market, even though you had to spend all that time looking for something to help me. The things you bought... They're presents, right? Dishes for Coran and cloth for Allura. A plant for Hunk. Paint and canvases for Keith. You probably have other presents tucked in there that you didn't bring out, for me and Pidge and even the mice."

Lance's face heated up again. Shiro knew him so well. Lance hadn't realized how transparent he was.

"If I wasn't sick, you'd still be out there, enjoying the market or wandering around town talking to people. Or even gabbing with the politicians, quiznak, Lance, I don't know when you got so good at politics, but it's kind of scary... This planet is really pretty, one of the nicest we've been to in quite a while, and I thought Allura was giving us the easy job, giving us a break, but instead... I'm really sorry, Lance. This sucks. For me, but even more for you. I wish I hadn't asked for the scleret. I wish I hadn't gotten sick in the first place. I wish..."

"Shiro." Lance couldn't stand it anymore. His pressed his hand against the back of Shiro's head as hard as he dared, and that rough, rasping voice ground to a halt. "Shiro, stop. You can't... Just stop."

Shiro went still, just breathing. Lance heard the phlegm, the breathlessness, but at least there was no rattling in his chest or his throat. It was still only a cold. A bad one, painful and debilitating, but not deadly. Not pneumonia, nothing like that. He had been afraid, for a moment...

But this still couldn't stand. This was too much. It couldn't be allowed.

Lance stood up from his spot at Shiro's back, moving slowly and deliberately, hoping that Shiro wouldn't feel abandoned when Lance's hand slid away from his hair. He moved around to the other side of the bed so he could see Shiro's face, then lay down next to him, on his side facing his leader. His hands reached out and folded around Shiro's flushed and burning cheeks, holding him.

Shiro watched him, eyes fever-bright, mouth agape because he couldn't breathe through his nose right now. Lance smiled, hoping that Shiro could see him through the haze of delirium.

"Shiro, I don't care," he told him. "Yeah, you're right. I had fun in the market. I like visiting new worlds. I like buying presents for my friends. I even like talking to politicians, sometimes. It's just...it's hilarious, the tiny, petty things they care about so much while we're out there in space defending them, saving the universe, and they don't know, they can't know, they'll never know what it's like...

"But I don't care. It's not that important. You know what's important? You are. You're important. You're more important than any of that."

Shiro sucked in a breath, harsh and shuddering, and Lance smiled wider, tears in his eyes. He hesitated, then went on. Shiro was totally out of it with fever and delirium. He wasn't going to remember a word of this, so Lance could say whatever he wanted to. It wouldn't be embarrassing if only he remembered it.

"Yeah, it sucks you got sick. I wish you hadn't, too. But not because I'm missing out on stuff that would be more fun than taking care of a sick person. None of that matters. It sucks that we're in a war, too. I know you hate it, not because of what it requires of you, but because of what it takes from the rest of us. You want us to be kids. You want us to have fun. You want us to be innocent and carefree and safe. And we aren't.

"You want to protect me, I get that, and it makes you sick that there are some things you can't protect me from. Like you getting sick. But it's okay. I'm okay with it. Sometimes I hate it, too, but not right now. Not today. Today, I'm glad. I'm a defender of the universe, I'm a hero, I'm a warrior, and I'm a sick nurse. And it's cool. I like it. You don't have to protect me from this. I'm okay. We love you, Shiro. We all love you so much. So I don't mind doing this. I want to. There's nothing to protect me from here.

"Someday, when this war is over, I'll get to do all the fun things I missed out on. I'll go back to all the planets we didn't have time to really explore. I'll come back to Haptoxi and wander around the market and buy presents for my parents and my brothers and sisters and cousins, and I'll talk to the people and eat the food and gab with the politicians. When the war is over, I'll still be a hero of the universe, and I'll be able to do whatever I want. There will be plenty of time. We're going to win, and then we'll have all the time in the world. In the universe.

"So don't worry about me, Shiro, okay? You just get better. You rest and drink juice and let the fever run its course. I'll be here with you the whole way through, because I want to be. No other reason. No other reason at all, I swear. I want to be here. I'm okay. Everything is okay, and you're going to be okay, too."

Shiro let out a slow breath and closed his eyes, nestling his cheek into Lance's hand against the pillow. Lance smiled and stroked his face with the other hand, then carefully pulled away. Shiro whimpered at the loss of contact, eyes sliding half-open, and Lance touched his hair.

"I'm still here. Not going anywhere. Just trying to get somewhere more central, okay? I'm still here."

He left the hand in Shiro's hair as he maneuvered, getting up on his knees, then moving into the center of the bed. With some shifting and rearrangement, he got himself sitting upright at the head of the bed, his back against the big windows covered with shades. He lifted Shiro's head, along with his pillow, and slid it into his lap, stretching out his legs with a sigh. Shiro curled up closer and relaxed.

There, now Lance was in reaching distance of the table, so he could get snot rags and juice and anything else. He carded his fingers through Shiro's hair and leaned his head back against the window. "You okay down there, buddy?"

"Yeah," Shiro said. A little rough and faint, but he seemed aware of himself. "This is good."

He sounded contrite, almost embarrassed. Lance smiled and petted his head. Shiro went limp.

The afternoon passed. Shiro napped, woke when his fever got too bad, coughed and convulsed, and drank juice and clear broth from the kitchen when he could. Lance helped him to the bathroom, handed him cloths, held cups for him, wiped his face down with cool water, and petted his hair between times. Sometimes he hummed. Sometimes he sang. Sometimes he talked, rambling about anything he could think of, stories about his family, things he did with Hunk and Pidge around the castle, hopes and plans for the future. Dollars to donuts Shiro wouldn't remember a word, but that was okay.

Behind the shaded windows, the light changed. The orange light of afternoon faded to the reddish light of evening. Soon would come the riot of color that signified sunset, and by then they needed to be out there with the Haptoxians, experiencing The Time of Great Change.

By now, Lance was getting a little worried. Shiro had been sleeping quietly for an hour or so. What if he didn't wake up in time? What if the sickness was still raging? All of that suffering would be for nothing.

He rested his hand on Shiro's forehead, and his shoulders jerked in surprise. No fever. Shiro's skin felt cool, though a bit crusty with dried sweat. Lance leaned closer, listening. Shiro's breath sounded smooth, no roughness or raspiness.

Lance took Shiro's shoulders in his hands, still draped over his lap, and gave him a gentle shake. "Shiro. Shiro, can you wake up?"

Shiro stirred and grunted into the pillow, then went still. Lance could almost feel him blinking, how sticky and uncomfortable his eyes must be after everything. After a moment, Shiro rolled his head over and looked up at Lance. His eyes were clear, his face open in surprise. "Hey."

Lance smiled. "How you feeling?"

"Pretty good. Fine." Shiro lifted his hand and flexed it in front of his face, then looked up at Lance again. His voice flooded with relief. "It worked. It's over. It's done."

Lance slumped a bit in relief, too. "Good. I'm glad." He looked behind himself out the window. "The Time of Great Change is close. I think you have time for a shower though."

"Okay. Good."

Still, for a moment longer, Shiro didn't move. Lance looked back to him, eyebrows raised.

Shiro was staring up at his face, a soft smile on his lips. "Thank you, Lance."

Lance's mouth twisted. "No biggie. I wanted to be here."

"Yeah. I remember you saying that."

Lance went still, face heating up. "You...you remember?"

"Yeah."

"All of it? I totally thought... You were so delirious, there was no way you would remember..."

Shiro laughed softly. "Yeah, all of it."

Lance groaned and covered his face with both hands.

Shiro lifted his hand and patted Lance gently on the cheek. "Thank you."

The words were soft, heartfelt. Lance opened his fingers, bracketing his eyes, and looked down at his face. Shiro was still smiling, broad and sincere. "Thank you, Lance. You did a good job."

Lance closed his fingers again so he wouldn't have to look at him. "Just leave me here to die."

Shiro chuckled and slowly sat up. He reached out and ruffled Lance's hair, rough and loving. "It's okay. I won't tell anyone what a sweetheart you are. You can keep your reputation as idiotic manchild of the team."

"Take your shower," Lance said. "Last order. After that, you can be in charge again."

Shiro laughed and went.

Lance lowered his hands into his lap and leaned against the window with a sigh. Today had been rough. But they'd gotten through it.

The color started to shift behind him, breaking out in a rainbow. Lance smiled.

It hadn't been completely terrible, either.