V’s has one of his Relic flare ups and all Kerry can do is take Vik’s advice.

Electrolytes, small amounts very often. NPO, because he’ll chuck up if he’s fed anything solid whilst his bodies trying to eat him alive.

Kerry’s knelt beside the bed of V’s japantown bedroom, an IV slowly dripping nutrients into his lovers system after a particularly nasty fit the night previous. Each patter of a drop ticked loke a clock on Kerry’s head, reminding him of the loaded schedule he’d thrown down the drain just to watch V for the day. — God, they’d heen important meetings too.. Cover art discussions, tour planning, Copyright and advertising, etc.

Originally Kerry had come over with the intention to surprise V with a nice night in to watch some shitty Disney movie he like im his teens about two dogs, but his plans came to a screeching halt when V practically launched himself through the front door of the apartment and darted for the bathroom to hurl up atleast a quarter litre of blood before unceremoniously cramping up all over and conking out, leaving Kerry to panic dial the pinned number on V’s contact list.

When V wakes up Kerry almost yells from relief, even if the man wakes up sputtering blood the rockstar catches in a tissue and tosses in a trashcan. “Easy, easy—” Kerry mutters quietly, trying not to spook the man who’d scared him shitless into panic planning a funeral in his head just thirteen hours ago. “You want ice chips? Anything?” He asks, being too worked up to really remember V was too disoriented to answer that question.