It was the third time this week that you woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. You sat up in bed with difficulty, your breathing heavy and vision blurred, possibly boiling with a fever, unable to move due to weakness.

And of course, Bruce noticed. He woke up groggily when he noticed you shifting on the bed, and then he sat up when he noticed your position.

"Unwell again, love?" he asked in that tired voice, hoarse from sleep, hugging your waist and supporting you with his body.