“Miss Martha says this is the only way you’ll feel better.”

Walter tried to smile at her as she brought a steaming bowl of soup into his room. “Thanks.” His voice was hoarse enough that only the first half of the word came out. His chest rattled with every painful breath. Sitting up hurt, but laying down made it harder to breathe. His brain felt fuzzy and it was hard to focus for too long, but while Harriet was around, he put forth the effort.

“You have to eat all of it. Then we put this stuff on your chest and you drink some tea and take a nap.”

Walter listened with half an ear. His attention was focused on making sure each spoonful of the thin soup made it to his mouth. His hand shook so badly that most fell back into the bowl. With a grunt of frustration, he dropped the spoon to the side and lifted the entire bowl to his face. The steam felt nice to breathe in and the warm liquid soothed his aching throat.

He managed to drink down half of it before a coughing fit came over him. Harriet set the bowl safely to the side while Walter curled into himself and tried to breathe in enough oxygen to make the black dots dancing in his vision fade away.

After the last storm, the temperature had dropped and stayed low. Walter needed to get better to collect more wood. They couldn’t afford him to be sick. Harriet was missing school and he needed to get her warmer clothes. Harriet’s garden would only take them so far.

Briefly, the memory of the sharp teeth brushed across his mind's eye and Walter gasped in another breath of air. He hadn’t died at the hands of the demon. He wasn’t going to let a little sickness kill him off either.

“This stuff is supposed to help you breathe. Take off your shirt and lean back.”

His fingers fumbled the buttons on his shirt. Harriet pushed his hands aside and unbuttoned it for him. His skin pebbled as the cold air hit it. He glanced at the fire. The air was probably warm, he was just warmer. She smiled at him and spoke in soft tones about how Miss Martha knew all about curing sicknesses as she rubbed the strong scented salve on his chest.

“Now I’ll make you the tea then you have to sleep.”

He nodded agreeably. He didn’t think he’d be able to stay awake much longer anyway. And he didn’t. He was dozing, not quite asleep but not fully awake either, when Harriet returned with a hot mug. A curl of steam swirled into the air and dissipated into nothing.

“Thanks.” Again, only half the word came out. He sipped at the tea then grimaced. Even with his reduced ability to taste, it was strong and bitter. He choked it down and Harriet took it from him with another smile.

He wanted to tell her to stop smiling. He wanted to tell her that it was ok to not be happy right now. That it was ok to be upset. His voice wasn’t working though, so instead, he smiled and held an arm out. She grabbed his hand and smiled even bigger at him. “You’ve got to nap now! I’ll wake you up when it’s time for more food!” She tossed another hunk of wood on the fire and shut the door on him.

His breath rattled. Every bit of him was weak. He drifted in and out of sleep. His coughs woke him up, but he couldn’t stay awake for long. After the next bowl of soup and hot tea, he grabbed Harriet’s hand.

“If somethi -” the word stopped halfway out. He tried again. And again. His breaths wheezed out him and black dots swarmed his vision.

“Take another nap, Walter. You’ll feel better soon.” She kissed him on the forehead and tucked the blankets around him. Walter gave her the best smile he could and sleep claimed him again.