59.)

I woke up an hour or so later, reached over and had a handful of crackers, and fell back asleep again.

Blossom woke me up a bit later and gave me some water to drink. I did.

The third time I woke up, it was because I couldn't lay still. I had kicked off the pile of blankets Blossom had draped over me and I was sweating through my shirt. Blossom put a compress wrapped in a rag on my forehead and I sunk back into the cushions.

"What time is it?" I asked. I wanted to be better before the weekend was up. I wanted to do our scene thing. We had made plans...

"Time for you not to worry about the time, and to worry more about getting better - and that means not stressing yourself out, cupcake."

And it wasn't like Blossom wasn't making use of the time; she had studying to do. She was set up on her iPad on the kitchen counter - like a watchful nurse at the nurse's station - and Amy was her patient.

"It's particularly baby... not knowing the time," I said more to myself than to Blossom. My face felt hot, but the cold compress made it bearable. I heard Blossom laugh. Then I fell back asleep.

The next time I woke up, it was dark outside. That didn't mean it was nighttime - in November, the sun went down around five or six. I sat up a little too fast and felt like I was going to throw up. Thankfully, I had eaten nothing but crackers since breakfast and I managed to resist the urge. Before I could get off the sofa, Blossom was at my side.

"Lay back down," she said.

"Gotta pee," I mumbled sleepily.

"Fortunately, we have a solution for that. Unfortunately, I can't imagine being clammy and sweaty in a diaper would feel good. So come on, I'll help you to the bathroom."

Blossom had changed; she was in her pajamas; long cotton pajama pants in gingham print, and a top that stopped above her belly button and had a print of a grumpy looking platypus in a sleeping cap that said "naw mate" underneath.

Blossom helped me to my feet. I could walk just fine, but my sense of direction was a little cloudy. I leaned on the walls as I went into the downstairs bathroom.

Pants down. Sit down. Potty. Stand up. Pants up. Wash hands. The whole process felt like it took a dozen seconds and a dozen hours. I splashed some water on my face and looked in the mirror. I wasn't wearing my glasses, and my hair was a mess. I tried to comb it with my fingers before opening the door and nearly bumping into Blossom.

"Diapers... are better... than this..." I mumbled. "Stupid that humans have this... thing we gotta go do all the time... and that thing is so far away. Like we dun have hunting anymore, 'cause that was too much work. Now we have grocery stores. But toilets. Too much work."

I was babbling, I knew I was. But it was nice to babble about baby stuff out loud to somebody. It didn't really matter what I was saying.

"That's absolutely a fair observation, cupcake. When I'm the figurehead Queen of America and you're pulling my strings from behind the curtain labeled "Academy", we can make it law and help people see the error of their ways."

Blossom smirked with pride at her own ridiculousness, and added.

"And bullies get the thickest diapers, so they can learn their place, right? Now come on, let's get you back to laying down."

"You woulda liked that, huh?" I teased, sticking out my tongue as I made my way back to the sofa. I fell backward into place and rubbed my temples. My head was hurting. Blossom stuck the thermometer back in my mouth. It felt like it took longer this time.

"101," Blossom mumbled. "I should get you more meds."

"Mmk..." I melted into the sofa. I knew she said I was hot, but I felt cold. Goosebumps were all over my arms and legs. I fumbled for a blanket and pulled it up to my neck.

"Here, take these," Blossom held out two white pills in her hand, and a glass of water in the other, "and once you do I'll make you some soup, otherwise these are gonna hurt your stomach."

"Mmk..." I reached out with a shaky hand and took the two pills. My face was red and hot and the rest of me was freezing cold, but the water I drank to wash down the pills felt excellent. I finished the whole water bottle before slumping back into the couch.

I don't think I fell asleep again. Blossom was gone a long while, and I felt like I was adrift at sea. Then, like a life preserver, I felt her hand on my forehead. She helped me sit up and sat down next to me, holding a bowl in her lap.

"Soup has got to be hard-mode for feeding someone."

Blossom smirked as she took a spoon of the soup, gently blew on it until it was cool enough, and then extended the spoon - with her other hand underneath it to catch drips - toward Amy's lips. Her Dad used to feed her the exact same way whenever she was sick. Always this brand. Always one hand over, one hand under.

I wanted to argue that I could do it myself, but... well, I wasn't so confident about that. My hands were still shaking and that bowl looked awfully heavy. So I leaned forward and let Blossom feed me. The spoon was deep and the soup was good. I felt the ice in my blood begin to thaw.

"I haven't had soup in a while," I mumbled between bites. Bites? Slurps? Swigs? Drinks? Did I ever write about soup in Academy Works? Probably not, since I didn't know what verb to use to consume it. Or maybe that was the fog in my head, clouding my thoughts.

"I don't trust people who eat soup when they're not sick. That's what soup is for, and that's all it's for."

More parroting of her Dad; he'd have cracked a big ol' Dad Grin following that, because he actually really liked soup. Blossom could take it or leave it. Too wet. But there were times she was sick and sickness called for soup. There was nothing better for it. She prepared another spoon. Scoop. Blow. Hand under. Guide to lips.

I finished half the bowl before trying to turn it away.

"One more bite," Blossom said. "Here comes the airplane. Vrooooom."

"Why does your airplane sound like a race car?" I mocked.

"Choo choo! Now it's a train."

"Is it a Transformer?" I asked, still trying to avoid the incoming spoonful.

"Magic School Bus, actually."

"I never saw that," I admitted. It was a little too old for me, but I knew some of the repeated jokes from Tik Tok. Wasn't the teacher a lesbian or something?

"Pfffooooooffff," Blossom said, slowly moving the spoon toward my lips. "Here comes the spaceship. Open the Stargate!"

"I don't get that reference either..."

"I will spill this all over you," Blossom threatened, "and then I'll call you a baby for making a mess. And you'll be in a bib any time you eat a meal from now on."

I wanted to call her bluff, but I didn't want to get soup all over my shirt. So I opened my mouth for one final spoonful of soup.

"Good girl," she said.

I smiled a dizzy smile. Those two words warmed me up more than all that soup combined.

Blossom stood up and took the remainder of the soup over to the kitchen to put in a container. She put it in the refrigerator for next time Amy was ready for food, and she washed her hands. By the time she got back to the sofa, she expected Amy to be asleep again, but found her just hanging on to the frayed edges of her consciousness.

"Look at you, eyes open and all, probably should take that temperature again soon."

"Mmhmm..." I didn't know if it was because of the soup or the water or the meds, but I was actually feeling a lot better. If it wasn't for the unparalleled exhaustion, I think I might even have been okay! Unfortunately, I was still struggling to keep my eyes open.

"Thank you..." I mumbled. "For soup, and... all the things..."

"Thank you for finally letting down your guard so I could take care of you, cupcake. I know that's hard for you, Little Miss Doesn't Get Sick. Believe it or not, this doesn't come naturally to me either, but I wanted to be good at taking care of you so I decided I'd do my best."

"Mmm..." I nodded a bit and closed my eyes. She wanted to do her best. I wanted to do my best too. I wanted to make Blossom happy, even if the only way I could do that was writing. Even if the only way I could do that was playing out some diaper-wetting scene. But I guess... letting her take care of me worked too. I didn't know there were so many possible ways to do the right thing.

"I'm gonna... do my best..." I mumbled, half asleep, "'cause I really like you..."

Blossom felt a warmth in her heart, and a tingling happiness in her fingertips. There were a lot of people who said they liked Blossom Brixley; she was a hottie from a somewhat-wealthy family, with high social status and a brain between her ears that actually worked. But nobody had ever said it in such a... specific way.

Such an honest way.

Not a want.

Not a desire.

But a 'really like'.

Blossom smiled contently and leaned in close enough that she could kiss the sleepy girl on her clammy forehead, and then did so.

"I really like you too, cupcake."