With an audible thunk, Reno sets a steaming mug of honey lemon tea on the nightstand before patting your cheek a few times to stir you. “Hey, c’mon, up, up, up. You gotta drink something.” You’d collapsed at the Turks office without previous indication of a cold, and they’d taken the rest of the day off to check on you. Reno flops onto the empty part of your bed. “Y’know, you’re always taking care of us. So now it’s our turn. Tea, soup, bad jokes, whatever you want. We’re on it.”

Rude, already sitting on the edge of the bed, adjusts the blankets around you with a more gentle touch. His expression is inscrutable, but it’s obvious he feels the same way as Reno. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and steady. “Just rest. Let us handle this.”

Reno nods emphatically. “Hear that? Team effort. Your cold doesn’t stand a chance against this level of care.”