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Just because Ten kept denying it, didn’t make it any less true. He was sick. Not just sick, but sick as a dog. “I never get sick.” Ten had one foot in the grave and the other was dancing perilously closer to the edge of the hole. He made it sound like he was a-okay, if his bluster could be believed. Ronan didn’t buy it for one second

Ronan knew it was just a cold and Ten would be fine in a few days. He felt bad that there was nothing he could do to make his husband feel better. Or rather there was nothing Ten would let him do. Since he was stuck in bed, Ronan didn’t think Ten’s opinion held any sway. He opened his laptop and clicked around until he found a seemingly simple recipe for chicken soup.

“I’m running out for a sec, can I get you anything, babe?” Ronan asked as he smoothed a hand through Ten’s sweat-slicked hair.

“Just get me a coffin, Ronan.” Ten whined. He really did look pitiful with dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. His nose was swollen, red and runny. Ten was a complete disaster. Just then he started coughing, if you could call it coughing. To Ronan it sounded like a nagging seal bark. He had to hide his laugh with a fake cough of his own, not wanting to hurt Ten’s feelings.

“Sure you don’t need any DayQuil or NyQuil?” Ronan asked, wiping his messy hand on the bed as discretely as he could.

“Yeah, grab me some, ‘Leave me alone so I can die in peace-Quil.’” Ten grumbled.

Ronan did laugh this time. “Got my phone if you think of anything or if you come up with coffin measurements.” Ronan ducked a flying pillow, laughing all the way out to his truck.

Ten was sleeping when Ronan got home from the grocery store. He was snoring loudly and drooling all over Ronan’s pillow. He grimaced as he made a mental note to change the sheets.

Once he was back in the kitchen, he began to unpack his purchases. He had gotten Ten a new jar of Vick’s VapoRub and some Day and NyQuil along with the ingredients he needed to make chicken soup.

Ronan hummed to himself as he read and re-read the soup recipe and began to cook. He peeled and chopped fresh carrots, shredded the pre-cooked chicken and measured out the right amount of chicken broth, green bean and peas. He even cooked the egg noodles in a separate pan. Soon the house was filled with the mouth-watering aroma of cooking soup.

Once the soup was set to simmer, Ronan laid down on the couch. He hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep the night before as Ten had been tossing, turning and hacking. Several times Ronan was just about to drop off to sleep when Ten coughed and startled him into full wakefulness. The high pitched jingle of their Christmas bell woke Ronan up, seemingly just after his eyes had closed. Whose bright idea was it to give Ten the bell to ring when he needed something anyway?

“Hey babe, how’re you feeling?” Ronan asked as he rubbed his tired eyes and stretched.

“Peachy, Ronan. Ready to enter the Miss Salem pageant. Grab my tiara, would you?” Ten deadpanned, then coughed.

Rather than engaging his sick husband in battle, Ronan chose the high road. “I got you some Day-Quil. Do you want to take some now?”

“No, Ronan. Let’s wait ‘til I’m dead and you can leave it in my casket, hmm?” Ten eyebrow was arched in a nightmarish rainbow over his right eye.

Ronan snarled and left the room to grab the box of medicine. “Here we go, Ten,” he sing-songed as he walked back into the room. Ronan sat on the edge of their bed and opened the box, pulling out a sheet of bubble-sealed gel-caps. He broke off one section and worked to get the bubble open and free the little orange capsules. He wasn’t having any luck. The sheet was supposed to be perforated for easy opening, but Ronan couldn’t get the packaging to tear, so he grabbed for the second bubble of pills. His luck wasn’t any better with his second try.

“Seriously, Ronan? A two year old could open that.” Ten snarked then sneezed, shaking the bed.

“Well then it’s age appropriate for you.” Ronan grumped and pulled harder. The bubble pack ripped open sending the small orange capsules flying into the air. One landed near Ten’s pillow and the other flew out of sight near the nightstand.

Ten grabbed the untouched sheet of Day-Quil and easily freed two capsules. He gave Ronan a triumphant smile before he shot them into his mouth chased by a mouthful of water. “Did you get my Vicks?” He asked as he settled himself back against his pillow. Ten started to cough and Ronan pulled him forward to rub his back.

Ronan felt awful for being so petty. He wasn’t sick often and right now all Ronan wanted was for him to feel better. “Yup, it’s right here. Do you want me to help you?”

“Yeah, would you?” He pushed down the covers and laid back.

Ronan easily twisted the lid off the jar and was surprised that a large dollop was already gone. He had no idea what he’d done with it. Maybe it was in the kitchen ready to go into Ten’s vaporizer. Putting the mystery of the missing Vicks out of his mind, he scooped some of the cool gel onto his fingers and was about to smear it on Ten’s chest when the microwave timer started to beep, indicating the soup was ready. The sound of the alarm startled Ronan and his hand hit Ten’s shoulder sending the glop of Vicks flying off his fingers to land in Ten’s hair. Ronan started laughing, he couldn’t help himself. His usually dignified husband looked completely ridiculous.

“Never mind.” Ten grumped, pulling the greasy medicine out of his hair and slathering it against his own skin. “What’s the timer for?”

“I made you some soup.” Ronan said proudly.

“From a can?” Ten sounded hopeful.

Ronan looked wounded. “No, from scratch, want some?”

Ten nodded, looking reluctant.

Several minutes later, just as Ten was falling into an uneasy sleep, Ronan breezed back into the bedroom with a bowl of soup on their T.V. tray. Ronan set the tray on his husband’s lap and waited expectantly for Ten to try his masterpiece.

Ten took a tentative sip of broth and made a face like a five year old eating liver. “Fuck Ronan, what’s in this, boot polish?”

“Oh, fuck,” Ronan muttered. He knew instantly what happened to the missing glop of Vicks. It was in the soup. The whole pot was ruined. “It’s not called ‘Chicken Soup for the Soul’ for nothing.” Ronan protested, hands on his hips.

“Yeah Ronan, that’s S-O-U-L, not S-O-L-E.” Ten started to laugh.

Ronan grabbed the tray and strode from the room. Muttering to himself about having to make Ten soup from a can.

“Hey! Where are you going, Betty Crocker?” Ten called out.

“To make you food that won’t kill you!” Ronan called back, wishing he’d just grabbed a couple cans of soup from the supermarket, instead of thinking he could pull off a pot of soup like he was Bobby Flay.

“Just call Greek Life! We love their pizza. I want sausage,” Ten called, before coughing.

Ronan did as Ten asked, feeling like an asshole for not thinking of it himself. Tennyson always took care of him no matter what was going on and Ronan couldn’t manage to do the same thing in return. Feeling sorry for himself, Ronan placed the order and grabbed cash for the driver.

“Mission accomplished,” Ronan said, sitting on the edge of Ten’s bed. “Food will be here soon.”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me today. Even though it didn’t go as planned, you’re still my hero.” Ten offered Ronan a happy smile. “Maybe we could have dinner and then we could watch a movie together and snuggle.”

It was on the tip of Ronan’s tongue to decline, knowing if he got too close to Ten he was likely to catch his cold and be miserable along with him. “That sounds great.” He leaned forward to kiss his husband. Ronan was about to move in for a second kiss when the doorbell rang. “Must be the food.” He was halfway out the door when Ten spoke again.

“I’ll take mine with out the VapoRub!” Ten laughed until he started to cough.

“A guy makes one mistake,” Ronan muttered to himself. He went to the door and paid the driver for the food. Grabbing plates and napkins from the kitchen, Ronan hurried upstairs to Ten, who was truly chicken soup for his soul. He’d never been happier in his entire life and that was thanks to Tennyson.

If Ronan lived to be one hundred, he’d never be able to repay all of the kindness and love Ten had shown him, but he sure as hell was going to try.