(no subject)
Gwen shuffles into the living room in a housecoat and slippers, shivering. Her roommate's lying on the couch, watching the news; which is about where she was the last time Gwen had felt up to wandering over here.
Hoarsely, "Anything ...?"
Rosie turns, glancing up at her. And sighs.
"Just more weird shit," she says, shrugging. "Another hospital shut down."
"Great," Gwen croaks. She slumps a little in the doorframe, then staggers around the kitchenette counter in search of tea. Fishes a mug out of the sink (clean, mercifully), fills it with water at the tap.
Rosie's frowning at the TV. "And there are more of those ..."
She trails off. Gwen knows what she's talking about.
"They're saying it's an outbreak of leprosy."
Gwen sticks the mug in the microwave and puts it on for three minutes-- like most of their kitchen appliances, the microwave tends to be irritatingly sluggish.
"There were some pictures on CNN.com," she says, trying to ignore the scratching in her throat. "Whatever it is ... I mean, it looks like it could be leprosy. I just don't get how."
"Welcome to the third world," Rosie groans, flopping back down on the couch. Gwen rummages around for the tea bags (chamomile's a current favorite) and a packet of Equal. She'd prefer honey, but they're out; and she really doesn't feel up to going out for more.
"Wanna make me some?" Rosie calls without moving.
"Yeah," Gwen calls back-- which starts her coughing, which does absolutely nothing for the pain in her throat. She's grabbed an extra mug and is filling it with water when the microwave goes off.
"Um," she says, clearing her throat scratchily. "I didn't ... give you what I've got, right?"
Rosie doesn't say anything; and when Gwen cranes her neck to get a look at the couch, she can't see her. She makes an educated guess and figures that she's attempting to shrug while horizontal.
"I dunno," Rosie says finally. "I've just been feeling really drained. Took me forever to get out of bed this morning."
Gwen frowns, sticking Rosie's mug in the microwave as she pulls out her own.
"You okay?"
Another probable shrug.
"Yeah. I bet I'll feel better if I get some sleep."
Gwen nods. And waits for the buzzer before shuffling over to the couch with Rosie's tea-- moving any faster makes her dizzy.
"Here."
Rosie hauls herself more or less upright to take it; she is looking a little pale, now that Gwen thinks about it. "Thanks. You're a lifesaver."
Gwen smiles, dropping onto the couch-- but as soon as she does, another fit of coughing wracks her body; her wrist jerks, sending hot tea splashing onto her thigh.
"Ow! Fuck--"
She blows on the tea to cool it, this time managing not to spill anything, and finally takes her first sip. As the days have worn on, it's gotten harder and harder to assuage the rawness in her throat or the queasy feelings in her stomach. She barks out another cough and drinks desperately.
Rosie's watching her, concerned and a little startled.
"Hang in there, okay?"
Gwen sighs, slumping back against the cushions.
"I don't know what the hell to do anymore," she says. "I've tried everything ... but I'm still sick as a dog."
Hoarsely, "Anything ...?"
Rosie turns, glancing up at her. And sighs.
"Just more weird shit," she says, shrugging. "Another hospital shut down."
"Great," Gwen croaks. She slumps a little in the doorframe, then staggers around the kitchenette counter in search of tea. Fishes a mug out of the sink (clean, mercifully), fills it with water at the tap.
Rosie's frowning at the TV. "And there are more of those ..."
She trails off. Gwen knows what she's talking about.
"They're saying it's an outbreak of leprosy."
Gwen sticks the mug in the microwave and puts it on for three minutes-- like most of their kitchen appliances, the microwave tends to be irritatingly sluggish.
"There were some pictures on CNN.com," she says, trying to ignore the scratching in her throat. "Whatever it is ... I mean, it looks like it could be leprosy. I just don't get how."
"Welcome to the third world," Rosie groans, flopping back down on the couch. Gwen rummages around for the tea bags (chamomile's a current favorite) and a packet of Equal. She'd prefer honey, but they're out; and she really doesn't feel up to going out for more.
"Wanna make me some?" Rosie calls without moving.
"Yeah," Gwen calls back-- which starts her coughing, which does absolutely nothing for the pain in her throat. She's grabbed an extra mug and is filling it with water when the microwave goes off.
"Um," she says, clearing her throat scratchily. "I didn't ... give you what I've got, right?"
Rosie doesn't say anything; and when Gwen cranes her neck to get a look at the couch, she can't see her. She makes an educated guess and figures that she's attempting to shrug while horizontal.
"I dunno," Rosie says finally. "I've just been feeling really drained. Took me forever to get out of bed this morning."
Gwen frowns, sticking Rosie's mug in the microwave as she pulls out her own.
"You okay?"
Another probable shrug.
"Yeah. I bet I'll feel better if I get some sleep."
Gwen nods. And waits for the buzzer before shuffling over to the couch with Rosie's tea-- moving any faster makes her dizzy.
"Here."
Rosie hauls herself more or less upright to take it; she is looking a little pale, now that Gwen thinks about it. "Thanks. You're a lifesaver."
Gwen smiles, dropping onto the couch-- but as soon as she does, another fit of coughing wracks her body; her wrist jerks, sending hot tea splashing onto her thigh.
"Ow! Fuck--"
She blows on the tea to cool it, this time managing not to spill anything, and finally takes her first sip. As the days have worn on, it's gotten harder and harder to assuage the rawness in her throat or the queasy feelings in her stomach. She barks out another cough and drinks desperately.
Rosie's watching her, concerned and a little startled.
"Hang in there, okay?"
Gwen sighs, slumping back against the cushions.
"I don't know what the hell to do anymore," she says. "I've tried everything ... but I'm still sick as a dog."