Arknights | Remembered Warmth

[veryroundbird]

Rating: Mild
Words: 1508
Characters: Silence, Saria, Ifrit
Relationships: Silence/Saria
Summary: Ifrit's sick and has a very specific request that Silence fulfills, reluctantly.
Notes: Request for Pride Month 2021!

---

Ifrit runs hot, but this is ridiculous, Dr. Olivia Silence thinks, looking at the thermometer display as it beeps. She only keeps the scanner kind, so there's no opportunity for Ifrit to warm it up artificially; she's definitely running a fever.

Although, really, if she was being honest, the real indicator that Ifrit's running a fever is that she doesn't even cheer at being given license to put off homework, just groans awfully and rolls over to mash her face into the pillow to mutter, "Water...?"

Olivia pats her on the head, gently, and sighs. "I'll get you a glass and some acetaminophen to take with your spiro, and you can just take it easy for today," she says. "Is there anything else I can get you while I'm up? I have a lot of work to get done today, so I'll be at my desk—"

"Mmmmria."

Ohhhh no. "Ah," says Olivia; she frowns. "Could you... say that one more time? I couldn't hear you."

Ifrit opens her eyes a crack, blearily, and turns her head up a little more to speak more clearly. "Jus' get... jus' get Saria," she says, just as Olivia dreaded. "She'll do, like... whatever, right?"

"She certainly does 'do whatever,'" Olivia mutters, scowling. "I'm not leaving you alone with her."

"But... you'll still be here... right?"

Yes, and that's also a problem. Olivia pinches the bridge of her nose. "Yes, but—"

"And... someone needs to give me my shots today, right?"

Damn it. It is Ifrit's monthly shots day, and while she can do most of her appointments via telemed, there's only a few people who Ifrit doesn't seem to "accidentally" set on fire when getting her shots—

And also Ifrit's making the big sad eyes at her. She's doomed.

---

In the end, she sends an email instead of calling, and hopes Saria won't check and therefore won't show up. Saria doesn't respond, but fifteen minutes later there's the chime of their suite apartment-style dorm's doorbell, and Olivia puts her head down against her desk for a moment, resisting the urge to thunk her head against the metal.

She should have just asked Ptilopsis before giving the option to Ifrit to ask for anything. But she hauls herself over to the door, pushing her glasses up on her face, making sure her hair is tidy and she doesn't look too rumpled.

Deep breath. Here goes nothing. She hits the door open switch, and—

"Dr. Silence."

"Operator Saria."

There's a pause. "I... received your message." A moment of hesitation, like she isn't sure if Ifrit is playing a trick on her, which makes two of them. "May I come in?"

Olivia sighs. "I did ask, after all. Come in." She turns from the door, and waves a hand, briskly. "I suppose it's the season you get colds going around from the recycled air. Ifrit's medication is all stored and labeled in the cabinet behind the bathroom mirror, apart from the ones that need to be refrigerated, which are in the... refrigerator. Obviously."

She realizes that... Saria's never actually been in their small home on Rhodes Island, and belatedly gestures toward the bathroom and the kitchenette, respectively. It's an odd feeling, considering the way things used to be.

...also, she realizes she's talking to Saria like she's the babysitter. Which, she supposes, Saria technically is.

Saria, for her part, is taking this in with the utmost infuriating seriousness, hands folded behind her back. "You said she needs her shots done."

"Yes," says Olivia, and largely keeps the snap out of it. Mostly. "Dosages will be different than you remember, but labeled. We added another experimental medication for her Oripathy symptoms; leuprolide acetate monthly, no estradiol until next year. She'll probably want water, but she hasn't had much of an appetite when she hasn't been asleep." She pauses, and glances over her shoulder. "Help yourself to anything in the kitchenette. I'll be in my office, mostly."

"Of course," says Saria, carefully, her eyes fixed at a point just above Olivia's head.

---

Olivia intends to stay in her office. Life has other plans.

Like—well, this one's her own fault, but she hovers, a little, watching Saria give Ifrit her shots, hanging out just outside in the common room. It's that same ease on Ifrit's face that she has with Olivia... not even with any of the other Rhine Lab alumni and expatriates. Even sick, she still manages to sit up and soldier through it; she grins when Saria ruffles her hair, gently.

And then like when Ifrit wakes up with a coughing fit so intense she starts setting her duvet on fire in teary-eyed agony; Saria slides across the metal flooring to appear in Olivia's office doorway with an urgent: "Where's the fire extinguisher?"

Which is when Olivia grabs it from next to her desk and ends up having to cover Ifrit's bed in a thick layer of flame-retardant foam while she yells at Saria to get the cough suppressants from the bathroom.

When Saria returns, she stops short in the doorway, a strange expression on her face, the corner of her mouth tugging just slightly upward—which is when Olivia realizes that she herself is now... half-covered in foam, several gobs drifting down off her hair, stripes blanketing her sweater and skirt.

She clunks the fire extinguisher down next to the bed (they'll probably need it again) and sulks off to go wash it off her in the bathroom; passing Saria in the doorway, though, in a slight fit of pique, she swipes a glob of foam off her sweater and flicks it at Saria's face.

Ifrit, at least, laughs for a moment, raucous ("Saria, your face—") until it turns into a slight hacking cough—

—for a moment, though, she almost thought she saw Saria crack a smile, too.

---

Saria was never much of a smiler even before, but—those rare smiles were always a treat, and... Olivia doesn't... quite know how to feel about nearly seeing one again.

There's no time to think about that. But she finds herself mulling it over in between appointments, in the lulls in meetings. Sometimes, in her worst (or best) moments, she can think about those past moments of closeness and miss them; she wonders if she's slipping into that again.

She nods off briefly at her desk, and wakes up with an odd feeling of lingering warmth—then realizes a blanket's been draped around her shoulders, and flushes, warmth rising to her cheeks. She came in here—

"Saria—" she calls, storming out of her office, but Saria, sitting on the small loveseat couch in the common room, sits up straighter, eyes widening, and puts a finger to her lips, pointing toward Ifrit's room, and—

"Ah," says Olivia, deflating slightly, and lowering her voice. "She fell back asleep?"

Saria nods. "Took a while," she said. "Her fever's gone down—she still had one an hour ago, but it might break soon, if it hasn't already."

"Good," says Olivia, and gingerly takes a seat on the opposite side of the loveseat, legs together to make space. Still, though: "Don't go in my office without permission."

At least Saria has the good grace to look a little abashed. "I just—right. I won't. But, I'm sure—you won't need me, soon."

Olivia grips the blanket in her hands, pulling it tighter around her shoulders, arms crossed over her waist. "I already don't need you," she says, testily.

"Ah."

"But—" Olivia grits her teeth slightly. "You've been... a help. And—it's been reassuring to Ifrit, too, to have you here..."

There's a gasp from the doorway opposite—

Ifrit dives out of sight, but just a little too slow to not be spotted, and both Olivia and Saria stand up from the couch immediately.

"Ifrit!" Olivia calls, elbowing the door fully open. "Get back in bed or get your homework out."

There's a thud, and Olivia flicks on the lightswitch to see Ifrit, sprawled out on the floor, having tripped over the stray corner of a blanket in her rush to try and get back into bed.

"Eheheh—well, I tried, right?" she says, as Olivia approaches, rubbing her head lightly; Olivia looks down her nose at her, doing her best unimpressed look. "But this means Saria's gonna stay, right? Right? I mean, if my fever goes back up—"

"Well." Ifrit's head jerks up when Olivia speaks, and she's suddenly serious, waiting for judgment. "I can't give you that, Ifrit."

Her face falls—

"—because it's up to Saria if she has time to stay through the end of the day."

"Ah—really—?"

And a more baffled, smoother voice from behind, quietly: "Really?"

Olivia rubs at the place where her crest feathers meet her scalp. She can feel Saria's eyes on her; she can't quite bring herself to meet them right now. But—maybe—maybe, she'll put it up for consideration. "How many times do I have to—yes. Fine."

"Yes!"

"But also, Ifrit—you're clearly well enough for homework, now."

"Aw, Silennnnnnnce—"