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I have just enough time to think this could be the best flight of my life when Apollo sways.
He turns at the last second and sits down heavily on the side of the bed.
“Apollo?”
“I’m fine,” he says quickly.
One touch to his forehead proves otherwise.
He’s burning up.
“Oh, fuck,” I say under my breath. I feel his cheeks and the back of his neck in case some other part of him is cooler, but it’s not. “But we’re together. We were just?—”
Fucking. And touching. And not apart for more than, what, twenty seconds? That’s not long enough.
I climb onto the bed behind him and press my chest to his back, slinging my arms around him.
“Just give it a minute, and you’ll be fine.”
Apollo shakes his head.
“Yes, you will. This is just a weird—a weird coincidence. You’re stressed about the flight.”
It’s not a weird coincidence. Apollo gets hotter. After a minute, he starts to list toward the pillows, so I help him lie down.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll be okay soon. I just need a minute.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Just—I’ll concentrate.”
“You can’t concentrate your way out of this.” I sit as close to him as possible and sling an arm across his chest. “I think we have to turn around.”
“Can’t.”
“Maybe not, but we can land somewhere else.”
Apollo’s eyes have gone glassy. He closes them. “Who else is going to fix this? It’s always been you and me.”
“Yeah.” My heartbeat hurts. “But we’re together now.”
Apollo doesn’t say anything else.
The fever gets hotter.
I wet a cloth in the bathroom and sprint back to the bed. Laying it on his forehead doesn’t do anything. When he starts shivering, I cover him with a blanket, but he kicks it off.
A few minutes later, Apollo jerks upright. I barely get a towel into his lap before he’s sick into it. Once. Twice. Then three times. I keep my hand on the back of his neck, which is so hot that the heat itself feels alive, like a throbbing pulse.
I toss some clothes on and rush to the front of the plane for ice. The attendant gives me a bucket, some plastic bags, and more towels. Apollo is lying down when I get back.
“Ice,” I announce, as if ice is the solution, and all this will be over quickly.
One makeshift ice pack goes behind his neck, and one goes on his chest.
I take his hand in mine.
“Apollo.”
