2019-10-23 - Tortilla Soup For The Soul

Dahlia felt like death warmed over. Declan was out at the moment maybe doing a job or getting supplies. He didn't seem to be sick yet so that was good. She had told him Ruiz would be coming over though. Just for soup and some kind of light conversation. She couldn't take more more than that with the way her head was pounding and her ears were ringing

She had texted Ruiz to just come in through the back sliding glass door when he arrived because there was no way she was getting out of bed just to open a door.

When he would enter the captain would find Dahlia indeed splayed out on the bed. Half covered by blankets like she wasn't sure if she was hot or cold. She was wearing only a sports bra and a rather short pair of shorts. Maybe lending to the fact she really was more hot than cold. A couple boxes of tissues were nearby, Gatorades, and both dayquil and NyQuil.

Dahlia had her laptop open and was half heartedly watching something on Netflix. The sound was rather low so as to not worsen her headache. Aside looking pathetic because of being sick she did look better than the last time he saw her.

The house was an open concept thanks to Declan and his remodeling skills. The living room and bedroom were all one space with plenty of room to move about. There was a sound system that could be noted by the speakers mounted one either side of the area. The kitchen had a counter to separate itself with stools to sit on. A tiny halfway led to the bathroom. On the couch were two handmade pillows. Dark blue on one side and foam green on the other with a cursive D embossed on both sides in the contrasting color.

There's a thump of boots on the front step, followed by a pause, like their owner is double-checking that he's got the right address. Because that could be awkward. Once he's reasonably certain, he knocks, and takes a peek in through the window. He's easy enough to spot in his usual tee shirt, dark jeans and leather jacket, feet shoved into a pair of hiking boots today, and a ratty ball cap tugged low over his eyes.

Dahlia lifts her head just a little towards the door and just makes a motion like 'come in' when she sees him peeking in the window. Nope, she's not moving for anyyyy reason. Then she drops her head back to the pillow and fast forwards a bit on the movie - skipping past what must be a boring part. Though she will pause it when she hears the door opening and closes the laptop so she can focus on her new arrival.

"When I tell you that you can come in without knocking. You know that means you can come in without knocking. Right?"

The door's nudged open once she gives the motion, and he twists to let himself in sideways, shoulder first. He's holding a tupperware container of some sort wrapped in a towel, in an apparent attempt to keep the heat in. "I'm still not accustomed to people leaving their doors open in this town," he mumbles enroute to the kitchen, where the container is slid onto the counter. Then he circles back to where Dahlia's sprawled in bed, and settles onto the mattress beside her to check her temperature with the back of his hand. "When last did you take tylenol?" he asks, glancing at his watch.

"Figure bad shits gonna happen whether we lock our doors or not." Those somewhat glassy green eyes track him lazily to the counter and then as he comes to settle beside her. Leaning slightly into the cool touch of his hand against her warmed skin. "I dunno. Hour or so maybe? Gonna take some more Dayquil in a bit." She sighs and rubs at her eyes a bit. "Thank you for the soup."

"That's the sort of reasoning I hear from people who aren't wearing a seatbelt, while I'm trying to talk them through a firefighter using the jaws of life on their vehicle," he replies with just a hint of an edge to his voice. Dark eyes meet glassy green, and his own look pretty exhausted. Bloodshot, with bruised looking smudges underneath them. "De nada," is added in regards to the soup. A little of her hair is brushed back from her forehead, and a kiss dropped there before he eases off the bed. "Need anything else while I'm here?"

Dahlia sighs softly at the kiss to her forehead, closing her eyes, though she peeks one open when he lifts off the bed. "Just general coddling and babying is all." Giving him a bit of a smile. "If you could bring me some of the soup, I'd appreciate it. Bowls are in that left cabinet next to the stove." She pushed herself up into a little more of a sitting position, studying him. "How have you been?"

Coddling's not exactly something that comes as second nature to the man. Though he certainly can be doting on rare occasions. The smile is returned, somewhat hesitantly, and he reaches for her hand to wrap it in his bigger one and give it a squeeze. "Si. Of course." His hat is tugged off as he moves away from the bed, then pauses and turns at her question. He doesn't seem entirely certain how to answer that, so settles for, "Alive." Which seems accurate enough. Then he's slouching off to fetch the soup.

Dahlia knows full well it isn't really how Ruiz is, but she's sick! So she can ask for whatever she wants - even if she doesn't get it. That's how it works right? She gives him a weak squeeze in return before relaxing into her mountain of pillows. "Well. I'm glad you're alive." She offers, watching him slink off towards the soup. "I feel so out of touch with everything. Anything crazy in a good way going on out there?"

Crazy? In a good way? The qualification earns a grunt from the off duty cop, and he shrugs out of his jacket and slings it across the back of a chair on his way to the kitchen. His ball cap follows, tossed atop the table and his fingers rifled through half-matted hat hair. "Making some progress on a homicide investigation. Though I won't bore you with the details." Never mind that he's not allowed to give her the details. There's some clanking about as he pops the container of soup into the microwave, and goes about finding a bowl and spoon.

Hey, one can dream?Hope? Ponder? Something like that. "Progress is good." Dahlia mused. "I doubt the details are boring but I won't pester you about them." She watches him wander the kitchen, ready to call out if he needs any help. "I was going to start making a wreath for Halloween. But.." She waves her hand like, probably not happening now!

"Oh, most of them are," Javier calls back after a pause and a beep beep beep of the microwave signaling that the food's heated up. He pours some into a bowl, tosses in a few chips if she has any, and shreds some cheese into it. Then plucks a spoon from one of the drawers and goes to hunt down a tray. "Wreaths are a halloween decoration? News to me." The food's heaped onto the tray, and the scent of the soup starts filtering into her room well before he appears in the doorway with it. "When are you back at work?"

There is no doorway! The bed is like five steps from the kitchen, and even though she isn't really sure if she can stomach it - it smells delicious. "Sure it is. I was gonna put pumpkins, ghosts, and black cats on them. Maybe some webbing." She shrugged a touch. The closest thing to a tray he'd find is just using a plate which is good enough for Dahl! She holds her hands out to take the plate and bowl carefully from him. "As soon as I recover from this shit I guess." She sighs. "I'm ready to be working again. Being bed and house bound sucks."

"If it's the same thing I and practically everyone else caught, you've got about ten days of feeling miserable to contend with," he explains, re-settling on the edge of her bed and carefully sliding over the plate with its bowl of soup. He hasn't filled it to the brim, so she needn't worry too much about it spilling over. "Don't rush it, though. I'm sure they'd rather you take the time off, than go back too soon and make other people sick."

She can feel her stomach turn a bit as she breaths in the scent of the soup. It smelled good but her stomach was like Are you sure????. Dahlia settled the plate carefully in her lap. "I'm trying not to." She sighed. "I feel bad. I'm pretty sure Declan's going to get sick. How can he avoid it? I've been telling him to overdose on some Vitamin C but...we'll see. " She stirs everything up together and then lifts a small spoonful to her mouth. "Definitely don't want to make any other people sick." There's a beat of pause. "I've heard it's not really like a normal flu though?"

She's watched carefully as the spoon's lifted to her mouth and a tentative sip taken. He's clearly eliminated much of the spice he'd normally put in, and heated it up to warm, but not scaldingly hot. "He either will or he won't. If he's not immune-compromised, he should be fine." He reaches over to squeeze her thigh. "So should you." A pause at her last question. "I guess that depends." He doesn't break eye contact, but there's a hint of something in his gaze that's difficult to read.

Dahlia swallows the soup fine and relaxes again. The spoon sets back in the bowl gently. "This is good. Thank you. I miss your cooking sometimes." She smiles a bit. "I know how to make real mac and cheese now." Her gaze drifts briefly down to his hand and then back up at him. "Depends on what?" Her voice is soft, curious. "You know I like to be prepared for stuff..."

He doesn't answer that for a little while. He's occupied, first, with watching her eat the spoonful of soup, and making sure it doesn't get thrown up or spit out. When that doesn't happen, there's a flickered smile for her comment on his cooking. "That's a start," he murmurs, in regards to the mac and cheese. Then he reaches up to check her temperature with the back of his hand, and glance at his watch. "It depends on whether you shine. And you do, a little, from what I can tell." He moves to his feet, and goes to rifle through the bathroom cabinet for tylenol.

Dahlia leans in just a bit to the hand again. She felt like she was on fire but at the same time it was more a cold sweat too. Being sick was terrible. But she listens as he talks. "The shine...a little...I think yeah..." She murmured. "I've done somethings? I think? Accidentally mostly." She closed her eyes as he goes off to find the tylenol. "I don't really understand much of it. Haven't had time to try and explore it and...Declan...I don't know if it's really his thing? So I don't wanna upset him or anything."

"Well," he tells her from the bathroom, "you might find that it dampens your abilities for a few days near the end. Don't be alarmed." He finally finds the bottle of tylenol and cracks it open, tumbling a couple of pills into his hand. Then back to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water before returning to her bedside. "Here." The tablets are held out in his broad palm, and the glass of water once she's popped them.

"Good to know." Dahlia agreed and held her hand out for the pills. She swallows them down with the water and takes an extra sip before setting the water on the nightstand near the Gatorades. "Thank you Javier." She smiled a little again. "So...what...can you do?" She asked finally. "With the shine? Do you use it a lot?"

"De nada," he murmurs again, the corners of his eyes crinkling up a little this time when he smiles. Rather than crowd her on the bed, he pulls over a chair to settle in nearby, his bulky frame easing into it with a tired sounding sigh. "I.." This isn't something he tends to talk about freely. "I can feel other peoples' emotions. Control them, to some degree. Make them see things that aren't there, and.." He furrows his brows a little. "No. I don't use it much. What about you?"

Dahlia studied him for a moment longer, his face primarily, how tired he looked and sounded. Then her eyes drifted closed again. It was easier to concentrate when her head wasn't spinning. At least the Tylenol was starting to kick in. "Me? I'm not sure." She admits. "I think...a few things have happened...mind things...but I haven't really tried to do anything. Or study things. Mostly haven't had the chance I guess and..." She pauses again, willing herself to open her eyes again and focus on Ruiz again. "I dunno if I really want to. It's...kind of terrifying to think about..."

He sits quietly beside her, watching her while her eyes close and her thoughts turn inward. There's no pressure for her to speak, though his brows furrow slightly as he considers her disjointed vague reply. "Well," he murmurs after a while, "if you want to talk about it some time. When you're feeling better. Let me know. I don't think I'm necessarily the best person to help you, but maybe I can find someone who can. Si?"

Dahlia thinks on that for a moment and then nods. "Sure. That could be helpful. I know Justin...he's been doing things with it. I might talk to him more too." She takes another careful sip of soup. She lets the silence fall between them for a few minutes, not minding it really. It's just nice to have him here. Close. Even if she's feeling miserable. She reaches over for a Gatorade to sip some. "How is Sutton doing? Did she get sick too?"

"You should," he agrees quickly, on the topic of soliciting assistance from Justin. Which means he doesn't have to try to awkwardly explain this stuff to her. When he sees her reaching for the bottle of gatorade, he snags it and hands it over. "She did. Both of us did, at roughly the same time. It was.." He stops himself there, brows furrowing then smoothing again. "Not something I want to talk about," he finishes in a low murmur. He glances at his watch, takes a breath, and blows it out his nose in a noisy exhale. "I should probably get going. Are you going to be all right? Like me to come check in on you again later?"

Dahlia lets him get her the Gatorade and takes a small sip of it once she has it. Nodding a bit when he says he doesn't want to talk about it. There's a little flicker of something in her eyes when he says he should leave. Like she doesn't really want him to but she doesn't have any excuses to keep him hanging around. "Okay." She musters up a smile. "It was good to see you. I'm glad you came. 'There's a nod about him coming back. "Yeah...I'd like that. If only to make sure that Declan and I haven't kicked the bucket because of this. If he does get sick." She sets the Gatorade back on the nightstand and takes another sip of soup. "Be safe Javier. Tell Sutton I said hi."

He speaks after a pause, dark eyes lingering on hers while she hesitates. "I'll stop back in tonight." A moment, and then he pushes to his feet, hand on her thigh, and a lingering kiss to her forehead. "You can let Declan know. Tell me if either of you need anything, querida. And I will." Tell Sutton hi for her. He smiles slightly, squeezes her thigh, and then ambles off. There's a brief parting glance over his shoulder before he disappears completely.