Disclaimer: Dresden Files belongs to Jim Butcher
and Scifi Channel who threw it away anyway so :p
Summary: Harry gets sick, Bob can do nothing
Warning: Spoilers for Soul Beneficiary
Hrothbert of Bainbridge was worried. Harry Dresden was ill. The ghost had stood all night at the foot of the stairs, listening to Harry groan and toss ant turn in his sleep. First came the low moaning, the sound of blankets being thrown aside. Then came the retching and vomiting sounds. Bob called out to Harry but received only vague mumbles and moans in reply. Bob cursed, wishing he could get up the stairs, carry some aspirin, cool cloths or even perform a healing spell He felt utterly useless.
He heard a knock on the office door. He moved cautiously down the corridor and saw Detective Kirmani through the clear glass of the door. Kirmani looked impatient. Bob slipped as far as he dared and stood in the shadow of the corridor.
Kirmani knocked on the door again, hard and impatient, yelling for Harry. He tried the door, rattling the glass in the frame. Then he peered in, puzzled. Words were appearing in the air, out of nothing. He thought he could make out a shape by the orange light of the three words: "Harry's sick. Help." Kirmani tried to force the door but failed. Finally he used the butt of his weapon to break the corner of the glass, reached his arm in, and unlocked the door.
Kirmani walked through the words, scattering them into whirling motes of bright orange dust that winked out. He went through the corridor to Harry's apartment, but there were no signs of the vague form he had seen behind the spooky words written in the air. He heard Dresden, though, moaning and whimpering. Something was very wrong. He took out his cell phone as he climbed the stairs. When he saw the shape Dresden was in he called 911, then his boss: Lieutenant Murphy.
Dresden was covered in sweat. He was shivering violently. His blanket had been flung halfway across the room. The smell of vomit permeated the air. Kirmani felt a vaguely ill himself. He looked around, found the bathroom and a couple of towels. He wet one and brought both back to Dresden's bedside. By the time he was halfway through cleaning the worst of the vomit a couple of EMTs were racing up the stairs.
Kirmani was grateful to be able to back off. "I'm a cop, not a nurse. I could never be a nurse." he thought. His stomach was still queasy.
Lieutenant Murphy arrived just as the EMTs had maneuvered their stretcher with Dresden down the stairs onto the ground floor. Murphy's eyes widened in concern. "I'm going with him." She informed the EMTs. "No room." one of them told her. "You will be in the way." You can meet him at the hospital. They left.
Kirmani took Murphy's elbow. "I'll drive you, boss, then I can get a cab back for my car and keep working on the case." She sighed and nodded agreement.
Hrothbert of Bainbridge waited.
About three hours and eternities later, Kirmani returned. He was hauling a large sheet of plywood and a hardware store bag. He wrestled the plywood into the office and closed the door. Bob watched from the shadows as Kirmani juggled the plywood and a drill. It took some maneuvering, but Kirmani attached the sheet of plywood to the door, the glass could be repaired later. He put the drill and remaining hardware into the bag then turned and walked through the darkened corridor through to the apartment.
He knew he was being watched by... something. When Dresden had disappeared several months ago, he and Murphy had followed an address that had been written in the air – bright orange letters like he had seen earlier today. The address had led them straight to Dresden and an insurance fraud ring. Murphy had thought Harry had left the words. Kirmani did not. Dresden had been too deeply drugged. Someone – or something else had left those words, because that was the only way s/he/it could help Dresden. After today Kirmani knew it was true. He stopped, looked around, saw nothing.
"Harry has the flu." he said into empty air. "His temperature was extremely high. The doctors gave him an ice bath, ibuprofen and have admitted him to the hospital." He paused, then continued. "They say it is only for observation and he might be out tomorrow or the next day. I came to get some clothes and other things for him."
Kirmani climbed the stairs into Dresden's bedroom and collected some clothing and found a small pack to put them in, along with a few toiletries and a half read book from the nightstand. He found Dresden's keys and kept them in hand. He hefted the pack and started through the corridor to the office door.
He stopped abruptly. In front of the plywood hung large bright words: "Thank You, Detective." A half smile crossed his face. He turned and said "You're welcome." and left, closing and locking the door behind him.