Atchoo!

In the light of the hall, Tintin's skin was pale and his lips were blue. Even after being hastened to a hot shower, his eyes had become watery and his nose an unnatural shade of pink. By the time he was dressed in his sleeping attire, he was sneezing every half-minute as well as still giving off the violent shudders he had made at the stream. The Captain took one look at him and pronounced him ill.

Tintin's reaction was to make a face which suggested that he had just been told ducks went ribbit.

"Don't look at me like that!" responded the Captain. "D'you not think I recognise a cold when I see one?"

"It can't be that bad…" protested Tintin. "Atchoo!"

The Captain snorted. "You're a smart young man; are you sure that's what you think?"

Tintin wiped his eyes. "No, I suppose not."

The Captain nodded like he'd made a point.

"But I don't understand – I haven't had a cold in years."

"Really?" The Captain was impressed. "How many years?"

"I don't rememb – atch! – I've…I've never had one during my adventures or anything like that."

"Well," said the Captain brightly. "Then it's a good thing that the only time you get a cold is when you don't have an adventure to worry about!"

Tintin sniffed. "I don't like it."

"You're not alone in that."

"Atchoo!" Tintin said, and started to get up.

"Whoa!" cried the Captain in alarm. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm…" mumbled Tintin distractedly as he tried not to wobble. "Snowy…"

The Captain looked at him sharply. "No…" Surely the boy wasn't that ill?

"Atchoo! I mean I'm going to look for him."

Captain Haddock drew himself to his full height. "If you think I'm going to let you wander around the house when you can barely stand-"

"I'm standing quite-"

"When you're swaying on the spot like that-"

"I've stopped, look-"

"By thunder, don't even think about it!"

Tintin wouldn't let it go. "I can still – atchoo!"

"Oh yes. My point exactly. You're staying right here – I'll look for Snowy."

"But-"

"No."

"I can help-"

"Blistering barnacles – For someone who's supposed to be sick, you argue a lot."

"I'm not that-"

"Sit!"

Tintin obeyed instantly, mild surprise on his face; but sitting obviously wasn't going to stop him from protesting some more.

"Don't!" commanded the Captain before he could say anything else. "Not another word from you – my decision is final. Would you like some soup?"

Tintin looked genuinely confused. "I…er…Thank you, but why? I'm not hungry."

The Captain stared.

"What's the matter? Atchoo!"

"You've really never had a cold, have you?"

"Did I say something wrong?"

-:-

By the time Captain Haddock returned with a wriggling, completely clean and dry Snowy and a glass of Loch Lomond, Tintin was already lost under his bedcovers. He set Snowy down and found the boy's head, which was buried somewhere between the edge of the pillow and a bunched-up part of the blanket.

When the Captain saw that he was asleep, he couldn't help but allow himself a fond smile. The poor thing was so tired. Imagine – This young whippersnapper was insisting on getting up less than an hour ago! He sipped from his glass and made his way towards the door.

Tintin stirred when he switched off the lights. "Hello, Captain…"

"Hey, you. I brought Snowy. You can go back to sleep."

Tintin stirred again and muttered something incoherent. "Goodnight, Captain," the Captain heard him say as he was closing the door.

"Goodnight, Tintin."

A sentence in the second section was the one that made me write all the other sentences making up this story, but that second section's a bit too saccharine for my liking, in my opinion. You might think different. I wouldn't mind.

I apologise for any out-of-character-ness that might have bothered you and hope that you enjoyed yourselves.

Again, I love it when you review.