It started with a sneeze.
A tiny, insignificant sneeze that everyone ignored.
Then another.
Then a cough.
By lunchtime, Keifer was sitting on the couch looking vaguely miserable, wrapped in a blanket he'd stolen from somewhere, refusing to admit anything was wrong.
Jay noticed immediately.
She always noticed.
"You're sick."
Keifer: "I'm not sick."
Jay: "You sneezed seven times in the last hour."
Keifer: "I was counting."
Jay: "I was counting."
Keifer: "That's weird."
Jay: "You're weird. And sick."
Keifer: "I'm NOT sick."
He sneezed.
Jay raised an eyebrow.
Keifer: "…Allergies."
Jay: "In December."
Keifer: "Winter allergies. It's a thing."
Jay: "It's not a thing."
Keifer: "It could be a thing."
Jay: "Keifer."
Keifer: "Jay."
They stared at each other.
Then Keifer's nose twitched, and he sneezed again—three times in a row.
Jay crossed her arms. "Sick."
Keifer: "Fine. Maybe a little sick."
Jay: "A little?"
Keifer: "A tiny bit. Microscopic. Barely worth mentioning."
Jay: "You're burning up."
Keifer: "I'm warm. It's cozy."
Jay: "You're delusional."
Keifer: "Also possible."
Jay sighed, but she was already moving—grabbing a thermometer, more blankets, a glass of water.
The living room had emptied somewhat. Tita Gema was in the kitchen, Eman beside her, both preparing what Tita Gema called "sick person soup" (which was apparently different from regular soup). Jasfer had gone to find more medicine. Serina was on the phone with a doctor friend, getting advice.
Percy was documenting, of course, but even he looked slightly concerned.
Percy: "Keifer has never been sick. In the history of ever. This is historic."
Aries: "People get sick, Percy."
Percy: "Not Keifer. Keifer is immune to weakness."
Ella: "He's human."
Percy: "Debatable."
Keigan and Keiren hovered nearby, uncertain.
Keigan: "Kuya? You okay?"
Keifer: "Fine, little brother. Don't worry."
Keiren: "You look gross."
Keifer: "Thanks."
Keiren: "I mean it nicely."
Keifer: "I know."
Grazel Jay toddled over, peering at Keifer with big eyes. "Kuya Keifer sick?"
Keifer: "Just a little, baby."
Grazel Jay nodded solemnly. Then she threw an imaginary petal at him. "Flower for health."
Keifer's heart melted. "Thank you."
Grazel Jay: "Welcome."
She toddled back to her parents.
Denzel: "She's a healer."
Grace: "She's two."
Denzel: "Same thing."
Jay returned with supplies. She sat beside Keifer, pressing a cool hand to his forehead.
"You're burning up."
Keifer: "You're cool."
Jay: "That's not—" She stopped. Blushed slightly. "That's not the point."
Keifer smiled weakly. "You're always the point."
Jay: "Stop being charming when you're sick."
Keifer: "Can't. Natural talent."
He sneezed.
Jay: "Gross."
Keifer: "Romantic."
Jay: "Delusional."
But she was already tucking the blanket around him tighter.
The afternoon became a blur of Jay taking care of Keifer.
It was strange, seeing him like this. Keifer was always so steady—the rock, the protector, the one everyone leaned on.
Now he was curled up on the couch, nose red, eyes glassy, refusing to admit he felt terrible.
Jay: "Take your medicine."
Keifer: "Don't wanna."
Jay: "Keifer."
Keifer: "It's big."
Jay: "It's a normal-sized pill."
Keifer: "It's HUGE."
Jay: "You've faced down your father and his armed men. You can take a pill."
Keifer: "That was different. Those were external threats. This is internal. Personal. Between me and this pill."
Jay: "You're ridiculous."
Keifer: "And yet you love me."
Jay: "Unfortunately."
She handed him the pill and water.
He took it, making a face.
Keifer: "Gross."
Jay: "Medicine is gross. That's why it works."
Keifer: "That doesn't make sense."
Jay: "Medicine doesn't have to make sense. It just has to work."
Keifer: "You're bossy when I'm sick."
Jay: "I'm bossy all the time. You're just more aware of it now."
Keifer: "Fair."
He leaned against her, resting his head on her shoulder.
Jay froze.
Keifer: "What?"
Jay: "You're cuddling me."
Keifer: "I'm sick. I'm allowed."
Jay: "You never cuddle in public."
Keifer: "This isn't public. This is the living room."
Jay: "There are fifteen people here."
Keifer: "They don't count."
Jay looked around. Tita Gema was watching from the kitchen doorway, smiling softly. Jasfer had returned and was pretending to read a magazine while definitely watching. Serina had finished her call and was seated nearby, trying to hide her fond expression.
Percy was openly recording.
Percy: "SICK KEIFER IS CUDDLY KEIFER. THIS IS GOLD."
Keifer: "Percy."
Percy: "WHAT? HISTORY MUST BE DOCUMENTED."
Keifer: "I'll kill you when I'm better."
Percy: "Worth it."
Jay laughed softly, wrapping an arm around him.
"Fine. Cuddle. But if you get snot on me—"
Keifer: "I won't."
Jay: "You sneezed seven times in an hour."
Keifer: "Those were controlled sneezes."
Jay: "There's no such thing."
Keifer: "There is now. I invented it."
Jay shook her head, but she was smiling.
The evening brought more chaos.
Section E had heard about Keifer's illness and, being Section E, had descended upon the house like a concerned, chaotic army.
Ci-n burst through the door first. "KEIFER IS SICK! I BROUGHT—" He held up a bag. "—GET WELL SNACKS! AND A GET WELL CARD! AND A GET WELL DANCE!"
Rakki followed. "The dance is optional."
Ci-n: "THE DANCE IS MANDATORY."
Rakki: "For who?"
Ci-n: "FOR ME. I NEED TO EXPRESS MYSELF."
Mica and Calix arrived with more supplies—blankets, tissues, a get-well-soon balloon that said "HANG IN THERE" with a kitten hanging from a branch.
Mica: "The kitten is you."
Keifer: "I'm not hanging from a branch."
Mica: "Metaphorically."
Calix: "Barely."
Mayo and Kit swept in with what they called "healing aesthetics."
Mayo: "Sick people need beauty around them. It's scientifically proven."
Kit: "It's not scientifically proven."
Mayo: "It's EMOTIONALLY proven. That counts."
They arranged flowers on the coffee table.
Rory and Edrix had brought laptops, obviously, and were now arguing about whether Keifer's illness could be tracked through some kind of data analysis.
Rory: "If we map his symptoms against local weather patterns—"
Edrix: "He's sick. Not a research subject."
Rory: "He could be BOTH."
Freya appeared beside Edrix, trying to look casual. "I'm not here for him."
Edrix: "You keep saying that."
Freya: "Because it's TRUE."
Edrix: "Sure."
Freya: "Shut up."
But she stayed.
Drew was taking bets on how long until Keifer fully recovered. David had surprisingly good odds. Eren was confused about why everyone was so concerned about "just a cold." Josh radiated calm from his corner.
Baster was humming a get-well melody.
Denzel had Grazel Jay on his lap, both watching the chaos.
Grazel Jay: "Kuya Keifer sick?"
Denzel: "Yeah, baby."
Grazel Jay: "I throw flower?"
Denzel: "Maybe later."
Grazel Jay: "Okay. I practice."
She threw imaginary petals at Denzel.
Denzel: "Thank you."
Grazel Jay: "Welcome."
Keigan and Keiren had claimed spots near Keifer, unwilling to leave his side.
Keigan: "Remember when we were sick and you took care of us?"
Keifer: "Yeah."
Keiren: "Now we take care of YOU."
Keifer: "I'm not that sick."
Keiren: "You're VERY sick. Look at your face. It's pale."
Keifer: "It's always pale."
Keiren: "It's PALER pale."
Keigan: "He's right. You look gross."
Keifer: "Thanks. Again."
Keigan: "We mean it nicely. Like, gross but we still love you."
Keifer: "That's… comforting?"
Jay laughed, pulling him closer. "They're right. You look terrible."
Keifer: "You're supposed to lie to sick people."
Jay: "I'm a terrible liar."
Keifer: "You're a terrible liar AND you have a thing for my 'tss' sound."
Jay: "We're not bringing that up."
Keifer: "It's relevant. It's part of your character."
Jay: "My character is perfect."
Keifer: "Debatable."
Jay: "Sick people shouldn't debate."
Keifer: "Sick people can do whatever they want."
Jay: "That's not how sickness works."
Keifer: "It's how MY sickness works."
Jay shook her head, but she was smiling.
Later, when the chaos had mellowed and most of Section E had gone home (with promises to return), Jay and Keifer sat on the couch in relative quiet.
He was still wrapped in blankets, still slightly flushed, still refusing to admit he felt terrible.
But he was also still leaning against her, still warm, still here.
Jay: "You need to sleep."
Keifer: "Not tired."
Jay: "You've sneezed twenty-three times today."
Keifer: "You're counting again."
Jay: "I'm always counting."
Keifer: "That's weird."
Jay: "You love it."
Keifer: "I do."
He tilted his head up to look at her.
Even sick, even flushed and gross and refusing to take medicine properly, he was beautiful.
Jay: "What?"
Keifer: "Nothing. Just looking."
Jay: "At my weird counting self?"
Keifer: "At the person taking care of me."
Jay's heart stuttered.
Keifer: "You know I'd do the same for you, right? If you were sick. I'd be annoying and overbearing and bring you soup and count your sneezes."
Jay: "You'd count my sneezes?"
Keifer: "Absolutely. I'd make a chart. Color-coded."
Jay: "That's terrifying."
Keifer: "That's love."
She kissed his forehead.
He smiled.
Jay: "Now sleep."
Keifer: "Bossy."
Jay: "Your bossy."
Keifer: "That's true."
He closed his eyes, still leaning against her.
Within minutes, his breathing evened out.
Asleep.
Jay sat there, holding him, watching over him.
From the kitchen doorway, Tita Gema watched with a soft smile.
From the stairs, Serina watched with glistening eyes.
From the corner, Percy watched with his phone, but for once, he wasn't recording.
He was just… watching.
Because this—this quiet moment, this love, this care—was worth more than any documentation.
The next morning, Keifer woke to find Jay asleep beside him on the couch, her head on his shoulder, her hand in his.
He was still sick. Still gross. Still refusing to admit it.
But waking up to her?
Worth every sneeze.
He kissed her hair softly.
She stirred.
"Keifer?"
"Morning."
Jay blinked sleepily. "You okay?"
"Better." He paused. "Actually, worse. But better because you're here."
Jay: "That made no sense."
Keifer: "I'm sick. Nothing makes sense."
Jay: "Fair."
She sat up, checking his forehead.
"Still warm."
Keifer: "I'm warm for you."
Jay: "That was terrible."
Keifer: "I'm sick. My pick-up lines are compromised."
Jay: "They were never good."
Keifer: "Liar. You love them."
Jay: "I love YOU. There's a difference."
Keifer smiled.
Jay: "Now take your medicine."
Keifer: "Do I have to?"
Jay: "Yes."
Keifer: "The pill is still huge."
Jay: "It's the same pill."
Keifer: "It grew overnight."
Jay: "Pills don't grow."
Keifer: "This one did. It's aggressive."
Jay: "Keifer."
Keifer: "Jay."
She handed him the pill and water.
He took it, making the same face.
Keifer: "Gross."
Jay: "You say that every time."
Keifer: "Because it's true every time."
Jay: "Ridiculous."
Keifer: "Your ridiculous."
Jay: "Unfortunately."
She kissed his cheek.
He pulled her close.
And on the couch, in the morning light, wrapped in blankets and love—
Jayfer was exactly where they belonged.
Sick, gross, and absolutely perfect.