5:55

A/N: No one should write 6820 words in a day. Your wrists will swell and you fingers will be in pain. At least, at my age, that's what happened.

Paul woke early Sunday morning, the pain in his stomach not enough to warrant vomiting but enough to make him break out in a sweat and feel nauseous. He pulled himself out of bed, his bedding and pyjamas damp and retrieved his medicine kit. As he fumbled around, he discovered he didn't have the right medication for how he was feeling. Back in bed, Paul pulled his phone out from under his pillow and saw the time was almost three in the morning. Not wanting to disturb anyone but worried about himself, Paul called Fourth.

Fourth answered groggily, his mumbling incoherent.

"Fourth. I'm sick. Do you have medication for vomiting." Paul asked.

"Paul." Fourth murmured before he answered fully awake now. "Yes. I do. Give me a minute and I'll be up." Fourth hung up and Paul placed his phone back under his pillow as he forced himself up and over to the door, unlocking it and leaving it ajar for Fourth. When Fourth arrived in the room, he used the bathroom light to illuminate the bedroom.

"Are you okay?" Fourth said, coming to crouch beside Paul's bed.

Paul shook his head. "I don't feel so good."

"I have medicine here. Take it." Fourth held out the small cup of liquid and Paul swallowed it down, a sour expression on his face as the bitterness lingered in his mouth.

Paul lay back down and Fourth stood and returned with a small bowl and towel from the bathroom. Gently, Fourth began to bathe Paul's face and neck.

"Do you want to change the bedding and your clothes?" Fourth quietly asked.

"Later." Paul replied.

Fourth continued to bathe Paul until he'd fallen asleep. After putting back the bowl and placing the wash cloth in the wash basket, Fourth sat beside the bed, and as he watched over Paul for the remainder of the night. As the morning light filtered into the bedroom, Paul woke to find Fourth asleep beside his bed, his head resting against his arms on the bed.

"Fourth." Paul said, as he rose up onto his elbow and gave Fourth a small shake to wake him.

Fourth raised his head and rubbing his eyes with a hand, looked up at Paul, and asked, "Are you okay now?"

"I think I'll be okay. Can you leave the medication for me." Paul responded.

Fourth nodded. "Of course. Let me know if you need anything during the day."

Cash nodded and lay back down.

As Fourth entered the corridor he noticed Ken leaving his room.

"Fourth." Ken said startled to see him. "Did you sleep in Paul's room last night. Did something happen in your room?" Ken appeared confused at Fourth's appearance.

"No. Paul was sick over night. I've been sitting with him."

"What!" Ken said surprised. "How?"

Fourth shrugged.

"Is he okay now?" Ken's concern grew.

Fourth still had the door handle in hand, ready to close the bedroom door, when he pushed the door open, and said, "You can check on him yourself. I'm going back to bed."

Fourth stumbled down the corridor and Ken entered Paul's bedroom. There had never been anything mentioned about this in the notes provided. Ken was only up to get food and go past Fourth room at around the time the next incident would occur. Then this must have been the reason Fourth was asleep that time. Ken closed the door and found Paul sitting on the edge of the bed.