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Fool

"Fool."

"Fate," Fate rasped before he started coughing. "It's 'Fate'."

Albel shook his head but offered the warm mug of vile smelling liquid anyway. "Get me on my knees again and then I'll call you by name. I'm stronger."

"I know," Fate replied. "And yet you're bringing me medicine."

"I have no intentions of fighting a sick warrior," Albel said briskly as he sat down on Fate's bed and watched the multitude of reactions as Fate drank the medicine.

"What's in this?" Fate mumbled as he reached over to set the mug on the small table just within his reach. He hadn't meant to get sick immediately upon arriving in Airyglyph, but obviously the harsh winter was too much for even the best biogenetics had given him.

"Do you want to know?" Albel asked, a smirk playing fast across his lips.

Fate decided he didn't. Instead he just looked at Albel, who had settled himself almost as if he belonged there, tending to someone who actually meant something to him.

What he did next was almost mean, but mostly just the sort of thing he was fairly sure Albel would do to him, given the chance. He reached for the metal mug again, though it was empty, and instead knocked it onto the floor to roll under the bed.

"Sorry," Fate mumbled as he started to get up.

"Don't," Albel commanded, shoving Fate down with a quick thrust of his left hand as he stood. "I heard the doctor order you to stay in bed."

"But..." Fate just watched as Albel slid off the bed and got down on his hands and knees to reach under the bed for the mug.

As soon as red eyes met Fate's, Fate smirked.

"Gotcha," Fate said as he pointed at Albel's position.

The worst part was that Albel only laughed.