thecapitol | Nothing wants to stay the same. [CLOSED]

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Nothing wants to stay the same. [CLOSED]

Who | Sigma and Howard
What | Sigma gives Howard medicine, bad advice, and Howard gives Sigma the flu.
Where | District 10 Suite, Sigma's room.
When | Before the Aliens plot.
Warnings/Notes | Flu stuff, unhappy cats, probably references to violence.

Sigma's apartment was, as usual, impeccably organized, not so much a living space as storage. It was almost certainly the antithesis of Howard's room: the Doctor's notebooks were sorted and stored, his clothes folded and put away, his bed made without the assistance of an Avox and without a wrinkle. The only evidence that the room was in use at all were the cat toys strewn across the floor, and a single framed headshot of Kyle Sigma kept on the nightstand: a memorial complete with an offering of a single vased flower, lest he let his failure as a parent go unrecognized.

A package of decongestant in hand, Sigma waited for Howard as calmly as he could. From behind the bathroom door Nye howled indignantly, furious to have been locked away from his master and guests - Sigma had easily decided he was more concerned with Nye catching the virus than Howard taking the cat's confinement the wrong way. There was also the matter of Howard's actions in the previous Arena: the boy had killed Neffa, one of the only adult Tributes Sigma had come to trust, and the magician had failed to return. Internally, Sigma was livid, and hoped to keep his temper down so that his anger would not slip through his lips and damage their relationship further. With a battle on the horizon and an illness to contend with, nothing could come of fighting over it now. Perhaps when Howard was better and the date of their next Arena was set, Sigma would consider scolding him.

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Howard's stuffed his pockets with Kleenex. His nose has a significant rash under it, and his upper lip is peeling. He's got a blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cloak when he arrives at Sigma's door, and he's shivering. The flu seems to hit in waves, and it's worse today than it was the day before, due in no small part to the fact that he hasn't slept in at least twenty-four hours.

He knocks. "Siggy Pop?"

When Sigma had seen Howard on the network he had looked comparatively fine, sick with a small cold that would need only a day's rest to get over. It was now clear to Sigma that Howard would not take care of himself even if his condition killed him, and he quickly ushers Howard through the door with parental irritation. Ages of dying have pulled him from the belief in a Christian God, but the Doctor curses reflexively. "Christ, Howard. You look like death."

Rather than passing Howard the medicine and asking him to leave as Sigma had planned, he retrieves a bottle of water and opens the package himself, withdrawing the largest recommended dose and holding it out to his guest. He knows the boy needs relief long enough to sleep, and is concerned now that the boy would kill himself with an overdose if he merely allowed him to leave.

"Thanks, Sigs, you look awesome too," Howard mutters, before coughing into his blanket and grabbing another kleenex. "Can I really not see the cat?"

He looks actively heartbroken by the idea. He didn't think Sigma was serious about being able to transmit whatever illness to the cat. He was actually looking forward to being able to hold something warm and purring to his chest and stroke it.

At least he has his Tribble, which he's left in his room in a cardboard box with towels and a little dish of water. He figured the little rumbling ball of hair might look like prey to the cat.

He takes the dose, giving Sigma a suspicious look. "Thanks. I can dry swallow, you know."

"I am sorry, Howard," Sigma offers, cringing when Howard coughs, and it's his final word. The sudden scratching at the door at the sound of company reveals not even Nye is in agreement. He's acutely aware how good the cat's company would be for Howard, but a sick pet is not something Sigma wants to trust with the Avoxes. He also knows deep down that he cannot avoid his cat in the days before the Arena, for it's the only thing that eases him to sleep when his fears get the best of him, and so the Doctor selfishly hoards Nye's company even from the boy that introduced them.

Sigma returns Howard's suspicion with confusion, uncertain why he deserved that reaction. "Hydrate yourself, then," he decides on, putting his hands in his pockets. He hasn't touched Howard yet but is already thinking of washing his hands. The rest of the package has been abandoned on a sidetable and Sigma nods towards it. "And don't take any more of that for at least four hours," he adds unnecessarily.

"Oh. Okay." To say Howard looks deflated is an understatement. A little line forms between his lower lip and his chin. "Not like I gave you that cat or anything."

He sits on Sigma's bed, pulling the blanket around his shoulders tighter. Despite the shivering, he's worked up a slight sweat.

"Can I see the package? So I can read the label? Promise I won't pocket it." It stings that he feels like he needs to add that in front of Sigma. He can point out exactly when his trust in Sigma broke, but he can't identify it in reverse. "I know a little about drugs."

Sigma allows the guilt trip to roll off him like water from a duck's back - but he does react to Howard approaching his bed, his good eye narrowing involuntarily. The pitiful sight of the shivering teen stops him from saying anything - he could not lend Howard the cat and if his bed made him feel comfortable or safe, fine. He would request his sheets be replaced.

"I bought it for you, Howard," Sigma says with exasperation, withdrawing his hands to pass him the box. He hadn't realized Howard expected to come back for further doses as though he were a dispensary. "You may have it, but do not kill yourself on it." It was true Sigma does not trust Howard not to and visions of the underweight child taking them at every waking opportunity sprang to mind unprovoked. It relieved him to hear Howard was knowledgeable but Sigma would not release the medicine until he had cautioned Howard like an adult gifting a child their first pellet gun. "Even a 25% overdose can be lethal. Understand?" The presence of a contagion put him more on edge than he had expected.

Edited 2013-09-27 21:00 (UTC)

He coughs again, casting a sad glance at the bathroom door as Nye yowls once more.

"What is this?" He takes the box, settling back into Sigma's pillows and headboards and pulling his jacket hood over his head. He makes a little groaning sound from the body aches. "I go over the limit on tylenol and Dayquil all the time. Never hurt me any."

He pulls the blanket over himself. "Anyway, if I wanted to off myself I'd do it way cleaner."

That comment does not ease his concerns and Sigma groans unhappily, at once making a mental note to change the pillowcases. "It's fairly standard cold medicine. Acetaminophen, diphenhydramine and a decongestant." There is a pause as Sigma decides whether to assume Howard knows what they mean. He had never had to explain something scientific to Kyle before. "A pain reliever and an antihistamine to lessen swelling and suppress coughing. It is well rounded and should alleviate most of your symptoms." He runs a hand through his whitening hair. "And that wasn't the response I was looking for, Howard," he adds with a growl.

"None of those sound easy to overdose on. Acetominophen mostly fucks your kidneys, right? No offense, but with how often I die and get reset, longterm kidney damage is pretty low on my priorities."

Nye howls again, and Howard casts a longing look at the closet, then looks at Sigma with an expression between pathetic and mutinous.

"What, about taking extra Dayquil or about killing myself?" Another shudder racks his body and he pulls the blanket up under his chin, nestling in. A small drop of sweat collects in his septum. "I mean, if you want me to lie to you so you get the responses you want, I can do that, but I thought you liked me for my charming honesty."

"And your liver, rapidly. It's quite deadly for cold medication. Howard, this isn't a joke," and for the first time since they'd fought in the ice cave, there was true anger in Sigma's voice towards the boy. His patience was wearing thin and he was tired of repeating himself, as well as enduring his begging for the cat. As sick as the poor kid was, it wasn't going to happen.

Eager to change the topic before he lost his temper and said things he'd regret, Sigma rubbed his eyes about the bridge of his nose and searched for something else to discuss. He sighed deeply, folding his arms. "So. Have you thought about what to get Eponine?" It wasn't a natural segue, but it would work. He'd confiscate the box when he left if he couldn't get a promise to be responsible out of Howard.

Howard visibly flinches at Sigma's tone, clutching the blanket closer to himself. He winces and tries to pass it off as just cringeing from the aches.

"I don't-" He coughs again, then rubs his throat as he figures it out. "I don't know. I get her jewelry and candy all the time. I want this to be something, I don't know. Unique. That she can take into the Arena to know she's still got at least one person on her side."

He pauses, wonders whether to add Sigma to that count, and doesn't.

Sigma leaned against the wall and calmed down as he seriously considered Eponine's gift. Something special, personalized, and small enough to take into the Arena... Sigma ignored the obvious personal attack as he ran through ideas. He probably deserved it.

"I am sure you won't believe me, Howard, but I had quite a number of girlfriends in my youth," he said casually. "I am certain that if we put our heads together we will be able to come up with something."

"Did you, um." Howard coughs again and sneezes into his elbow. "Do you mind if I ask something kind of personal?"

On the other side of the door, Nye starts to scratch in addition to yowling. Howard winces again and wipes his nose on the back of his hand. He shudders harder and devolves into a coughing fit, although he gives Sigma a look like he's not at all going to accept any help.

Personal? Sigma isn't sure why Howard would come to him for help with something private, but he nods uncertainly, retrieving another blanket from the closet and throwing it- still folded- on the bed despite Howard's expression. He didn't have to take it if he didn't want to. "...Go ahead."

"I'm going to need for you to reach back into your memory. Way back." Howard smirks a bit, just teasing, trying to add some levity to asking a question that really scares him. "When was it you started getting interested in girls?"

He pulls the other blanket onto himself.

It was a strange question, but not the worst he'd expected. It was also something Sigma had never had to consider as his attraction to girls had been pervasive through all of his adolescent life - Sigma had been lucky enough to have never been confused over his sexuality. The furthest back he could recall was an incident when he took a girl he considered special to see the 'Cat Mansion' in playschool, but it probably had more to do with the ease of making friends before the gender barriers set in.

"When? I suppose if I had to choose a specific example, it would be from when I was about eleven," he decides with a shrug. "There was a girl in my class whom I was attracted to. Children generally develop those sort of interests younger than adults would like to admit." His eye falls on Howard as if to ask why, but he comes up with his own assumption first. "I'd say you're more than old enough to be feeling those sorts of things, Howard," he offers reassuringly.

A chill fills Howard's gut that has nothing to do with the flu. It's, in fact, the exact opposite of what he felt when kissing R. And similar to the one he feels when he and Eponine have kissed for too long, when it no longer makes sense to stop there.

"Oh." Howard looks the opposite of reassured. In fact, he looks downright unsettled, and suddenly more miserable in his sickness than he has been thus far (an impressive feat). And, with Sigma having provided a rope he can't grab onto, he doesn't know how to escape the situation. "Um. Was it all girls or just some girls?"

Sigma notices Howard's discomfort and does not understand why his answer has defied expectations. Nevertheless, he continues. "Just some, of course. One generally isn't attracted to every member of the opposite sex that they meet. That would be a bit of a problem," he joked dryly. He wondered if there was another girl Howard was interested in other than Eponine, and while that slightly concerned him for her sake, it was perfectly normal for a teenaged boy. "You may meet many women you have interest in, or only a few. It varies from person to person."

"Do you remember, like, on average, how many women?" Howard shuffles his toes a bit under the blanket, dodging around the question. He settles more into the bed, wiping some sweat from the nook above his lips.

"How many...?" He repeats the question in confusion, a bit of a smile on his face. "Do you mean at a time or before I met 'the one?' I like to think I'm not the sort of person who would two-time on a girl I was seeing..." He doesn't think that is what Howard meant at all, but he tries to lighten the mood.

He digs up a part of his life he had left behind, when he was just a college kid chasing girls from class to class, getting a degree to enter the working world without the looming threat of the apocalypse. "...I can only speak for myself, but before I met her, I suppose I had at least five 'serious' girlfriends, two in high school and three in university. That isn't counting casual dates or casual... encounters." At this Sigma looks down nervously, as it's an awkward thing to bring up with a kid. "Back then I was pretty eager to go after whichever woman would put up with me. I grew out of that behavior. Some people don't find someone until later in life, others find a serious partner right away."

"Yeah, I'm not going to two-time Eponine, don't worry." He coughs again and swallows hard. "I just..."

He shudders again, staring at some piece of wallpaper in Sigma's room that wasn't quite lined up right when it was applied. Sloppy work from expanding the Training Center to eight Tributes per District, from adding six extra bedrooms.

"How do you know if you're in love?"

Sigma's expression softens. It seems like a sweet thing to ask and to worry about and he wonders if he has misjudged Howard by considering him insensitive.

"Well," he begins, and it is easy to explain because the feelings had never left him, "you will know once you care about their well being more than you care about your own. If their happiness is more important to you than being made happy by them, that is what love is," he answers somewhat cryptically. "It has nothing to do with gut feelings. Love is more genuine than that and it takes time. Does that answer your question?"

"Not really. I feel that for...for a few people. I mean like romantic love." He'd lay down his life for Eponine, but he also would for Wyatt and Orc, and he's certainly not in love with the sheriff at least.

Howard sniffs again and holds the back of his hand to his nose. "Do you have a Kleenex, by the way? Otherwise I'm totally snotting up your blanket."

As Sigma was quite pleased with his answer he's disappointed that the message didn't come across to Howard. Well, he'd try a different tack.

First he addresses Howard's tissue problem. With a bothered sigh he opens the bathroom door, bends to catch the eager feline gently in his arms, and shuts the door for a moment. Moments later Sigma appears with a box of tissues as he closes the bathroom on a pair of sad golden eyes.

"Here," Sigma says as he holds out the package. Perhaps it is because the topic has gone on longer than he expected and he is tired, or because what he says will be more serious than their conversation has been thus far, but Sigma sits down on the end of the bed.

"I suppose if you can say that about them, then you do love them, but not in the romantic sense. The way to discriminate is, well..." He brushes his bangs from his face. He's no good at this. "It is like finding the other half of oneself, and so it is more intimate than friendship, and not easy to tolerate being apart. ...There will also be a wanting for them," he adds quickly, as if nervous to have to bring it up. "One does need to feel love for someone they have sex with, but it is different when you do. I am not... entirely certain how explain it, other than that."

Howard wonders if he can actually blow parts of gray matter onto the tissue. He feels dizzy after he's cleared his sinuses of a bit of the snot, and the edge of his vision seems to pixelate. Then it's gone.

"Well, then I love her," he says, as if it's a statement true as 'gravity pulls you closer to the Earth' and 'Nickelback isn't very good'. There's no doubt in it. "But it still feels..."

He shrugs and coughs into his kleenex. "And I didn't say anything about sex, Siggy Pop, you pervert."

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