for Logan

Jack was cold. He snuggled deeper under the covers and pressed closer to Logan, but it didn't help. His head ached and his mouth was dry so he sat up to get a drink. He was surprised by the fact that his nose was so clogged he couldn't breathe and his chest was tight. He coughed and pulled the covers up around him, unwilling to get out of bed.

"Logan," he said, pitifully congested. "Logan, I don't feel good."

He couldn't recall the last time he'd been sick. Not since he was young, that was for certain. The Time Agency had pumped him so full of vaccines and things that getting sick simply didn't happen. Ever.