Jett took a quick trip to the pharmacy to get Jamie some drugs and came back not so long after. He immediately took the liberty of using the kitchen, making soup that he believed would make Jamie better.
His steps echoed through the living room, uneven and hurried, he gripped the bowl in his hand so tightly in his fist it felt as if it would break. His pulse was still racing, adrenaline buzzing under his skin as he crossed the living room in long strides.
Jamie was still on the couch, Curled on his side now, blanket twisted around his legs, hair damp and plastered to his forehead. His breathing was shallow and uneven.
Jett's chest tightened painfully at the sight.
"Hey." he said quickly, forcing his voice to stay steady as he dropped the bag on the table. "Hey, sweetheart. I got you some medicine. And soup. It's light. You can eat this."
Jett got no response in return.
Jamie shifted faintly, brow knitting together like he was uncomfortable even in sleep.
