"You're already sick," Michel offered, if they all had the same illness could it truly get any better or any worse sitting here? Still, he could sense that this was something that truly bothered Zevran, "what if I brought one here? Or if they had something that they could, at least, give me for the fever?"

Michel was out of his mind with not being able to do anything at all, and this was so unlike him, it put him on edge. Those dreams as well kept coming back to him, revolving in his head and perhaps he was staring at Zevran in a way that would make someone curious. He tore his gaze away after a moment pondering his hands and whether he should admit to seeing something so personal, "you had dreams while you were delirious."