When Gem woke up, the first thing he saw was a figure slumped over in a chair beside his bed, quiet and motionless and probably asleep.

He blinked. Even in his bleary, feverish, half-asleep state he could tell that something was strange. Oliver didn't tend to watch over him when he was sick. He came when he was called, but he never sat beside his bed unless Gem was doing very, very badly.

He wasn't feeling that bad right now, though. Still sniffly and miserable, but nowhere near like he was dying or anything. So…what was going on?

Blinking again, he focused his eyes on the figure in the chair, his head aching as he tried to turn. "Olly?"

The figure gave a start. A book fell clattering to the floor, even as Gem rolled over to fully catch sight of the visitor beside his bed.

It wasn't Oliver, all right. It was…

"Cinder?"

The shoemaker snatched the book off the floor, looking startled and somehow caught. "What, lazybones, awake already?" he snapped, jumping to his feet. "Congrats on getting sick, idiot! You missed breakfast."

Gem suppressed the urge to throw a pillow at his stupid face. For a moment he had almost wondered if Cinder might actually be kind of nice, watching over him like that, but obviously that wasn't the case. This guy was not only a jerk, he was also rude.

"It's your fault I got sick, you stupid prick," he shot back. "You started the whole snowball fight."

"Because you wouldn't shut up!"

"And you shut people up with violence?" Gem flashed a haughty, mocking smile. "That's so uncultured. Have you never heard about resolving conflicts with words, Master Cinder?"

Cinder turned red, and Gem could tell he had hit his mark. "I don't want to hear that from the guy who almost punched me in the face!"

"I'm the prince. I can punch people as much as I want."

"You're also a bratty, spoiled little tyrant."

Gem stuck out his tongue. "And you were watching that tyrant sleep like the creep you are!"

That wasn't actually how he felt, deep down, but he decided he thought so anyway. The alternative would be feeling grateful that Cinder seemed to care about him after all, which was most definitely not something he was planning to do, now or ever. He'd be damned if he wound up feeling gratitude for the likes of Cinder the shoemaker!

"You say that like I'd be interested in watching you sleep," Cinder said with a scoff. "I get enough of your snoring through that joke of an inn wall, thanks a lot!"

This time it was Gem's turn to blush. "I don't snore!"

"Sure you don't. You're sawing trees in half."

"You ugly liar!"

"Whole forests."

"Shut up!" Gem tried to throw a punch at Cinder's arm and missed. "You're just making up slander 'cause you're jealous of me."

Cinder sat back down. "Why should I bother to make things up?" he deadpanned. "Nothing could leave a worse impression than you do yourself."

Gem opened his mouth to reply, then a sneezing fit cut him off. "You should be so glad I'm sick," he said. "Or else I'd have punched you already."

"Resorting to violence, Your Highness? How uncivilized."

There it was again, that mocking, almost mischievous twinkle in Cinder's eyes. Gem gritted his teeth and sneezed once more. "Once I'm healthy again, I'm gonna kill you."

"Looking forward to it, Your Royal Sickness."

Gem coughed, sniffled and flipped him off.

He fully expected Cinder to get up and leave now that he was awake, but the shoemaker simply picked his book back up and continued reading. Right beside his bed. Like he wasn't even there.

How could he just ignore him like that? Nobody ignored the crown prince of the kingdom!

"Hey," Gem said.

Cinder kept reading.

"Hey," Gem repeated, louder this time.

Cinder clicked his tongue, looking up from the book. "What?"

"Why are you in my room?"

Sighing, Cinder closed his book, turning towards Gem in accusation. "Because," he said, "from my experience, a sick person should never be left alone. One moment they have a slight cold, the next they're on the verge of dying."

Gem almost made fun of him—almost. Something in Cinder's tone stopped him. He sounded annoyed as usual, yes, but there was something darker in his expression, a shadow that Gem couldn't explain or comprehend. Not like he was worried about Gem in particular. More like he was thinking back about another time, another person lying sick in a bed.

"It's just a cold," he said, though he came out sounding more serious than intended. "You're paranoid."

"It can hit the airways, and that's when it gets dangerous." Cinder turned away. "What will you do when your cough gets so bad you can no longer breathe, stupid? How will you call for help, huh?"

Gem looked at him, trying to read his thoughts. He still didn't have the impression that Cinder was worried about him. At least, not as a person. He was worried, that much was certain. But Gem couldn't tell why.

"Why do you care, anyway?" he asked, rolling back over to stare at the ceiling. "It's not like you even like me or anything."

"You got that part right," Cinder said grimly, taking a well-aimed stab at Gem's ego. "But I was involved in that snowball fight too. In a way…you got sick because of me."

Suddenly Gem understood. "So you feel guilty."

Cinder didn't answer.

"Keep this up," Gem continued, "and people might actually think you're nice."

Cinder opened his book again. "I'm not trying to be nice," he said. "Just responsible."

Silence fell. Cinder kept reading. Gem wondered if he should fall asleep again, then decided against it. He wasn't really sleepy anymore. His nose was still running and his throat was scratchy, but the medicine Oliver had given him seemed to be working; he wasn't nearly as sick as he had been this morning. He was just…not doing too great. He'd get better.

Unsure what to do with his time, he let his eyes linger on Cinder. He didn't look like a bad person, he mused, sitting here reading like that. His face was thoughtful and intelligent, if decidedly more grave than a teenager's face had any business being. Like an adult who had seen something of life stuffed into the body of an eighteen-year-old, with neither part knowing how to function together.

Maybe that wasn't so far from the truth.

Not that Gem cared, he reminded himself. Cinder didn't care about him, so he definitely wouldn't care about Cinder. They didn't like each other. They were just working together and stuck at the same inn together.

Noticing his gaze, Cinder looked up, scowling at Gem in irritation. "Anything on my face?" he snapped.

Gem hurried to look away. "Nope," he said. "I just can't get over how stupid you look."

"You're one to talk," said Cinder and went back to his book.

Gem rolled over and sighed.

Whatever, he thought. He'd try to sleep again. It wasn't like he could do anything else with this jerk around, anyway.

~ ~ ~

Gem was doing a little better than before, but Cinder didn't dare relax yet.

The prince had fallen asleep again, not snoring for a change, probably because he was sleeping face-down right now. His fever had gone down a little. There were no signs of a dangerous cough, but Cinder knew better than to underestimate an illness. Even if Gem at least seemed to be doing well enough to have his usual spats with him.

Around noon a knock startled him out of his thoughts, and in came Oliver, holding a tray. "So that's where you are," he said, noticing Cinder. "I was wondering why you weren't in your room."

Cinder nodded towards the sleeping Gem. "Someone needs to watch over him. Can't be too careful."

Oliver gave him an odd look, then raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"You still feel guilty," he observed.

Cinder averted his gaze, clicking his tongue. "Mosly I don't want to be the one responsible if he gets really sick."

"He'll be all right."

Still smiling, Oliver placed the tray on the table, waving a dismissive hand. "Gem's tougher than he looks," he said. "Trust me, I grew up with him. The worst thing he ever gets is a mild fever and some sniffles and coughs."

Cinder swallowed. He had heard a similar sentence before, years ago, and had seen it proven wrong. "There's a first time for everything."

"Even if there is, there's also medicine." Oliver turned to face Gem. "Worst case, we can get him transported back to the palace and treated there, but I don't think it's going to happen. This guy bounces back from everything."

Cinder was quiet.

"Hungry?" Oliver asked him.

Cinder shrugged. He was used to working hard enough to get hungry at every mealtime, but today he hadn't been able to do much of anything. "A little."

"Go eat," said Oliver. "He'll be fine."

Instinctively Cinder glanced at Gem. "But—"

"If it makes you feel better, I can take over the watch."

Cinder opened his mouth and closed it again. He didn't know what to say.

"That's…" he began, then trailed off.

Oliver smiled.

"It's all right," he said. "You don't have to do this alone."

You don't have to do this alone.

The sentence echoed in Cinder's mind as he walked down the stairs, kind, understanding and over three years too late.

~ ~ ~

The first thing Gem noticed when he woke up again was the smell of chicken soup tickling his nose. His stomach growled in response. He hadn't eaten all day, and now he was feeling strengthened and very, very hungry.

"The innkeeper made that just for you," said a familiar voice beside his bed. "So you better eat up and thank her later, nerd."

Gem opened his eyes. A shadow fell onto him from the chair, but the person in it was no longer Cinder—it was Oliver.

"Olly," he said, pushing himself up. "What's the time?"

"Past lunchtime," said Oliver, handing him a bowl of soup. "You missed half the day already, you sleepyhead."

"Don't be mean, I'm sick," Gem muttered and began to slurp the soup. It tasted less refined than the food he got at home, but it was good in that simple, homely way, warm and nourishing. Gem felt his strength returning as he ate. And yet, in between slurping and chewing, he couldn't help scanning the room, as if waiting for Cinder to show up at any second.

He was about halfway through the bowl before he asked, "Where's Cinder?"

"Oh! He was watching over you, but I sent him away." Oliver gestured in the direction of the door. "It's not like he has to take care of you alone or anything."

"Makes sense," said Gem, taking another spoonful. "I like you better, anyway."

He didn't know why, but for some reason he still couldn't help feeling a little betrayed.