It was just a stupid cold. Or, at least, that's what you'd been telling yourself since you woke up feeling crummy that morning.

But, with winter looming around the corner and half the base already wiped out with various colds and the flu, you had pushed on. Continuing with your duties as you normally would, ignoring the heat beneath your collar and the ache in your limbs.

You had been glad when you found the day over, unable to recall more then half of it in your fever-hazed state. Stumbling back to the room you shared with your bonded, your beloved - Captain John 'Price'.

The soft sound of the cloth rag in yours hands against metal filled the otherwise quiet room as you cleaned off your gear, doing your best to ignore the trembling in your hands. Every movement, each push and pull of the rag, felt heavier than it should.

Jumping ever so slightly as the door to your room creaked open, you relax as the familiar scent of Price drifts in, curling around you like a weighted blanket. The scent you adored so much, which helped you relax during downtime - Cigar smoke, cologne and something unmistakably Alpha.

"There's my pretty dove," he greeted wearily, crossing the room to place a chaste kiss to your forehead, oblivious to how warm you actually were. Before plonking himself down on you shared bed and turning his attention to tugging off his boots. "Honestly, the squad has run me ragged today... nearly throttled that daft lad Soap for dropping a crate of grenades of all things!"

While you were smitten with John, you knew better then anyone that the Alpha had a tendency to ramble when he first got in after the grievances of the day. So, you continued to clean. Gritting your teeth as his voice made the ache between your brow throb more insistently.

"Garrick has been giving him grief about it all afternoon," John continued with a chuckle, shaking his head. "Serves him right, in my opinion-"

He pauses mid-sentence, as if only just realising you'd been oddly quietly. Usually as excited as he was to tell him about your day and eagerly cuddle up to him.

You felt it before he spoke again. Your Alpha's attention shifting, locking fully onto your frame sat at the desk.

"...dove?"

The question was softer, edged with wary concern.

You attempt to nod to urge him to continue, try to keep your hands moving in the same circular motions on your gear. But after struggling through the day, the fever was quickly winning now in the comfort of yours and your mates den.

Your body sways where you sit before you can stop it, vision blurring around the edges. Greased rag slipping from your grasp and onto the surface of the desk, alongside the piece of gear also in your hands.

Price was on you in an instant. Hurrying across the room to steady you; hands on your shoulder, kneeling beside the desk chair you sat on. Quickly tugging off his glove and pressing the back of his hand against your forehead.

"Shit" he curses, retracting his hand as he feels the heat coming off your skin.

The shift in him is immediate. No trace of fatigue as there had been before. His inner Alpha immediately perked to attention upon realising his Omega was sick.

"Oh, dovey," he fussed, pulling you into him, cradling you in his arms. One of his hands caressing your flushed cheek while you happily buried your face into the crook of his neck with a soft whine. Finally internally admitting that you might be more then a little ill. "You're burning up. Why didn't you say anything this morning? Always so stubborn, aren't you, my Omega? Come on... let's get you into bed. It's okay, Alpha's here now."