For as long as Keith could remember, he'd just powered his way through any sickness or injury he got mostly through a combination of stubbornness, willpower, and what was, apparently, an appallingly high tolerance for pain.

He didn't know so much about that last one - it wasn't like he was immune to feeling discomfort - but he'd just always assumed that if it didn't kill him immediately, it shouldn't be considered a big deal.

So of course he hadn't wanted to admit he was sick, but when he'd shown up for breakfast and the very sight of food made him nauseous, he'd known this was going to be a bad day.

He didn't throw up, not then, but he didn't come further into the dining room. Instead, he leaned against the wall in the hallway and tried not to breathe in too deeply - but the smell was -

Oh, no.

Before he knew it, he was on his hands and knees, throwing up whatever the food goo had been supposed to be last night, and after a few startled seconds, there were a lot of raised and concerned voices gathering near him, and he wished he'd just stayed in his room, instead of being out here, where the lights were too bright and everyone was being too loud.

Then someone was rubbing his back encouragingly, saying something about it being okay, and although it didn't really change the fact that he'd never felt worse in his life, it helped, a little.

At some point they'd helped him back to his room, and as far as he could tell, now he was lying on his bed, wishing he didn't feel so - awful.

He'd shut his eyes long ago, trying to block out the faint light from the hallway, but the door was still half-open, and he could hear what the others were talking about in the hallway.

"-I don't like this, his fever's way too high -"

"-maybe he should - sleep?"

"You've seen him, he can't get to sleep, and anyway, we have to make sure he gets water soon - it'll be even worse if he gets dehydrated -"

"-not if he's only going to throw it up again, that's way too hard on his system, we should see if there's anything around here that might help bring a fever down -"

As time passed, he found the worst part about the fever was the thirst.

"...please...?" he asked, and from somewhere nearby, he felt Katie pat his shoulder, once, an awkward attempt at sympathy.

"No, Keith, we gotta wait - at least another twenty minutes, remember?"

He did, but he didn't want to.

His head ached, he was cold all over but his skin felt far too warm, and whenever he moved, every inch of his body hurt. His mouth was dry, and it had been for what felt like forever. He couldn't stop shivering, even though Hunk and Lance had piled what felt like six blankets on top of him before going with Coran to go look through the various Altean remedies they had on the ship.

…and he thought that…Allura was…probably…somewhere…doing…something…

Keith knew dimly that it was not a good thing that he felt this listless, but he was so thirsty. It was all he could think about. But every time he'd tried drinking even a small amount of water, he'd thrown it up within a few minutes, and it just made everything worse.

But now Katie was saying that she'd had an idea, and then something soft and cool touched his forehead even as she went on talking, keeping her voice pitched low and gentle.

"See, we can't try having you drink any water right now, but we can try helping you cool off with this, okay? My brother used to do this for me when I was sick, and it helped me feel - less awful - and I found some ice chips, too, so your mouth won't be so dry- um - I know it's not a cure, but -"

Katie hadn't been sure if this wet-washcloth-soaked-in-cold-water-over-the-forehead thing would help, because sometimes, when she'd been little, she hadn't liked the way the water dripped down her face or soaked into her hair, but Keith had just looked and sounded so listless, she'd figured it was at least worth a try.

The worst that could happen was that it didn't help, or he didn't want it, and that wouldn't be a problem at all, he didn't have to keep it on his forehead if he didn't like it, there wasn't a law or anything saying it had to be helpful -

But when she placed the folded, damp cloth onto his forehead, her fingertips brushed his skin, and she held back an exclamation of concern only because she was focusing on telling him about how this might help him feel better.

Shit, this fever was a bad one.

But it would be fine, of course it would be, they were on a freaking Castleship for the love of God, of course there would be some kind of medicine to help bring down a fever, it wasn't like this was going to kill him, he was tough, he was one of the toughest people she knew -

Her thoughts were rambling, she knew, and she tried not to say everything she was thinking out loud, but sometimes - okay, quite often - the words just wouldn't stop coming and she'd try to string all the ideas together into something coherent but a lot of the time it just all came out in a rush and -

But tension had eased out of Keith's shoulders, and she sighed in relief. A few ice chips later, it looked like he felt a little - just a little - bit better.

Good, good, this was helping him feel not-so-bad, that was good - wait -

Keith was - Keith was -

His eyes were still closed, but it looked like - he might be - tearing up?

She bit her lip, thinking over if she'd said anything about Shiro, but she was pretty sure she hadn't.

So why was Keith sad?

He heard her ask him what was wrong, and then curse at herself in frustration because she remembered that it was difficult for him to talk right now.

"Shit, sorry, Keith, you're fine, uh - yeah - so - just keep - trying to rest, all right? - I'm going to -"

Pidge was really….funny…when she rambled…

Keith liked being near her, liked hearing her voice, even liked it when she started talking about things he didn't quite follow, because it meant she was thinking, and Pidge was always thinking about a million times faster than he ever could. She was brilliant, one of the smartest people he'd ever met, and she was…

She was his friend.

He hadn't been tearing up because he was sad.

It had been for a different reason altogether.

When he'd been younger, Shiro had helped him when he was sick, but ever since then, he'd just taken care of himself and not really thought much about how having someone else - a friend - nearby could be so…nice.

She and the others had taken the time to try and help him feel better, and amid the haze of the fever, that had helped so much. He wished he could tell her that he appreciated it, but as usual, the words just wouldn't come to him.

Instead, he turned his face a little more towards one side, so that he faced her, so that he could stay close to her as long as possible.

He hoped she would stay, but there were other things that needed her attention. He'd understand if she -

Then her fingers moved the hair out of his eyes, and he felt his shoulders relax again at her touch, and before he could think about what he was saying, he just said it.

"…'re…so…nice…" he said, and a second or two went by before she replied, her voice catching as she did.

"Aw," she said, but there was no hint of mockery in her tone as she said the words. "You big old softie."

She switched out the compress for another one, as she said, very kindly, "Of course I'll stay."