For Meg's Sicktimes

[themidnightson]

It's been a pretty average day on the other side of the door. The everything that is still the school day the way it is right now. Saying goodbye to Bella at the end of the day to run an errand for Esme.

He'd meant to spend sometime writing, except that end of space and time showed up in hos own bedroom. Which was surprising enough, given that they had a permanent door to it downstairs.

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[ofthefamily]

"Sleeping, currently. Her fever's gone down, but I'll need to wait until she wakes to ascertain how useful the antivirals were against the varicella.

"I've stocked up on anti-itch things for her," Carlisle adds. "Never have I acquired that much in the way of hygiene products before."

[themidnightson]

There isn't much change to his expression. Gold eyes flicking toward the door and back to to Carlisle. She isn't far enough he can't smell the sickness in the air, hear the slow breaths, Carlisle had been following, with his own ears now. Sleeping, but still early in.

"Show me." There's an air of question but only at the very, very still edge of it. One of the three things he never says hovering in the air right at that edge.

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle looks back at the closed door.

A mental curtain draws back and Carlisle chooses very carefully about what images he shows. Carrying Meg up the stairs morphs into Carlisle holding his arm against Meg's head for a moment.

Useful, that.

[themidnightson]

Under normal circumstances he'd feign more of the believed charade of mental control than will ever actually be true, but these are not normal circumstances. And the other always has been.

There's only the faint list of his head, acknowledgement of the given and waiting, for the rest. There are far more important things at this second than human graces.

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle might disagree, but he speaks the rest.

"She'll be fine. She's going to feel like hell, but she'll be fine."

[themidnightson]

He's allowed to. It's never stopped either of them before, or any of the present truths therein. Nor does it desist from what he wants. If Carlisle chooses not to answer his request, Edward chooses easily neither to look pleased, nor unpleased. Only distantly, thoughtfully removed.

Edward barely shifted, hand in one pocket, fingertip across the head of the key, thoughts several places. "How long will you keep her quarantined?"

[ofthefamily]

Until she rebels against me, I suppose.

"Three days."

[themidnightson]

"She won't," Edward said, as though it were the most obvious thing. Maybe it was to him after so long. Once she regained her faculties Meg would likely be the kind of patient most doctor's longed for. It was, simply, who Meg was.

[ofthefamily]

"I'm not expecting her to. Did you want to go in?"

[themidnightson]

"I won't wake her," Edward said, even as he nodded, stepping toward the door.

[ofthefamily]

Vampires rarely wake anyone unless they want to do so.

Carlisle steps out of the way to let Edward into the room.

[themidnightson]

If there was as earlier curiosity to whether Carlisle would detain him any longer, with anything else, as one of the only two, maybe three now, people who could manage it no matter what his own mood or purpose might be.

There's also some gratitude that he doesn't.


That he simply steps aside, and Edward can follow that with stepping inside.

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle stays in the doorway as Edward moves past him.

Even though Meg's asleep - and in a deeper sleep than she's managed of late, which is positive - Carlisle wants to try and at least pretend to give them privacy.