Feverish Inspirations

Tobin’s whole body jerks as she opens her eyes, squinting at the brightness surrounding her. She blinks rapidly, eyes watering as they adjust to the sunny day and she takes in her surroundings. Her head is to the side and she feels grass beneath her and realizes she’s on a soccer pitch. She’s confused, she isn’t supposed to be here now. She should be home, there’s a pandemic, she shouldn’t be outside right now.

“You good, rook?” a female voice asks with concern.

Tobin moves her head to follow the sound and is now looking up at Mia Hamm.

“Yeah?” she replies confusedly, still blinking and slowly moving her legs and making fists with her hands. She becomes aware of how her body aches and her head is pounding. She’s also really hot, like burning up. “I feel like I got hit by a truck,” Her reply is met with laughter.

“You did,” another voice says good naturedly and Tobin sees Julie Foudy extending a hand to her. Tobin takes it and stands up, still hot and slightly woozy but otherwise okay.

“Hey, you good?” another player asks, joining the small circle they’re standing in. It’s Kristine Lilly.

“Yeah,” Tobin nods, thinking she must be dreaming.

“Sorry about that,” Kristine says, giving her a sheepish shrug. “I wasn’t looking and didn’t see you there until it was too late.”

“It’s cool,” Tobin shrugs, having no idea what she’s apologizing for. She runs her hand over her pulled back hair.

“Alright, break it up,” another female yells from a distance, “let me take a look,” she orders and the woman step back. The woman, who Tobin figures her for a trainer, runs her through a pretty weak concussion test and for some reason she sticks a thermometer in Tobin’s mouth, slaps a wet towel around her neck and pronounces her fit to play.

Tobin squints and looks over to discover she certainly is on a pitch, one full of fans in a pretty large stadium. People are cheering as Tobin drinks from the water bottle Kristine handed her and she looks around. She thinks she’s in Carson, it looks familiar. She really shouldn’t be playing soccer right, she thinks, her and Christen have just come home from the She Believes Cup and she really has to focus on some stuff for Re-Inc. right now. Chris is gonna be pissed, she frowns, then slowly realizes this is probably a dream.

“Heath, you good?” a new voice asks from a few feet away on the sideline and Tobin turns to see a woman looking at her shrewdly.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replies, nodding at her, trying to place who it is.

“Alright, you’re still starting tonight,” she nods back, “but if you feel off, you let us know.”

Tobin lifts her hand and gives her a single finger pistol, “Will do,” and takes a drink of water.

“Finish your warm up then,” the woman reminds her and Tobin realizes the woman is April Heinrich.

April Heinrich, what is she doing here? Tobin wonders and shakes her head following the trio in front of her, her eyes warily taking in the rest of the team warming up. Yeah, she figures, I’m dreaming. She squirts water on her face and takes a deep breath and tosses the bottle near the sideline. Comforted in knowing the drills, she jumps right in. She’s concentrating on the drills but while standing in line she glances up and sees Christen in another a group across from her looking over with concern and Tobin smiles fondly at her, slightly surprised at the bashful and shy smile Chris returns before looking away quickly.

Why does Chris look so shy? What the the hell is going on? Tobin wonders.

XXXX

Christen feels warm under the covers and rolls to her side, away from the heat radiating beside her in the form of a one Tobin Powell Heath. Tobin is usually a human furnace, so this isn’t anything new. She shifts her legs and settles back to sleep. She feels as if she’s only slept a few minutes when she’s awakened by the bed shaking violently. Her eyes fly open in the darkness and she instinctively reaches for the lamp on her nightstand, clicking it on. She turns wildly to see Tobin, uncharacteristically lying on her back, breathing deeply.

Christen’s eyes widen when she looks closer and sees that Tobin has flung the comforter off of herself and lying spread eagle. On closer inspection, Christen sees how flushed Tobin’s cheeks are and how her face, neck and hair is slick with sweat. She realizes Tobin’s fever has spiked. She flips the light comforter off herself and slides out of bed, speed walking to the bathroom and finding the thermometer. She rinses it off and shakes it dry as she returns to the bedroom, intent on waking her.

“Tobin,” she says quietly as she gently shakes her shoulder, “babe, wake up,”

Tobin’s eyes flutter open and she sniffles and squints at her, clearly not fully awake. “Mia?” she mumbles questioningly, slightly tilting her head.

“Are you okay?” Christen asks, feeling her concern rising.

“…feel…hit…truck…” is what she makes out from Tobin’s mumbling.

Christen shakes her head, “I need to take your temperature,” she instructs, “open your mouth.” After a couple of failed attempts, due to Tobin’s inability to keep the device under her tongue, Christen decides to get the digital one they were given in a supply pack from the National Team. She finds it quickly enough, frustrated she has to open the packaging and then put in the batteries before she can use it. Christen races back to the bathroom and returns with a couple of cool washcloths and places one on her forehead and the other around her neck.

“Her fever is 102.2,” Christen reports anxiously with her phone in one hand, digital thermometer the other.

“If she wakes again, try to get her in the bath or the shower. If her fever goes over 103, bring her to the ER,” a voice advises her, “make sure you tell them you’re both COVID-19 positive and make sure to wear a mask, the both of you.”

“Okay,” Christen nods, “I’ll take her temperature every hour.”

“That’s right,” the female on the other of the call encourages, “and keep doing the cool compresses, not cold, just a little cool, almost lukewarm.”

“Okay,” Christen whispers.

“I know you’re scared,” the woman soothes, “but you’re doing everything correctly and that’s all you can do for her right now. If you can wake her again in a little bit, give her more Tylenol and try to keep her hydrated.”

“Okay,” Christen nods, letting out a sigh, “thank you,”

“Take care and keep me posted, alright?”

“I will Dr. Brown,” Christen sniffs, “thank you again.”

They end the call and Christen lets the phone drop from her hand and onto the mattress. She stands next to the bed, moving her arms to hug herself as she looks on at Tobin. They had been so careful, wearing masks, washing their hands and not going anywhere. They had both begun to show symptoms a couple of days after their return to Portland after the She Believes Cup. Both of them felt drained, which was normal after the tournament, but the lethargy felt deeper than usual. Then Tobin developed a low fever and she followed the next day.

Obviously, tonight Tobin’s fever had spiked after they went to bed, drenching her shirt with sweat, making her skin hot to the touch and her face flushed. Earlier, when Christen shook her awake and Tobin still wasn’t making any sense, she got scared and panicked and called the team doctor, explaining what was happening. Convincing an out of it Tobin to take Tylenol wasn’t easy but she was successful after she hid the capsules in applesauce and Tobin got it down. She was slightly amused when Tobin mumbled she was fine and gave her a weak finger gun. Helping Tobin out of her damp shirt and into a fresh dry one wasn’t a simple task as well. Now wide awake for the past two and a half hours, Christen has been monitoring Tobin’s temperature each hour and replacing the cool washcloths on her forehead and neck and watching her closely.

Once a smattering of players were diagnosed with COVID-19, the league and National Team were keeping it quiet, not wanting the media to pressure affected players to make a statement. It would be up to each player if they wanted to publicly state if they were sick. Christen heard Carli and her husband were sick with flu like symptoms and she prayed she or Tobin wouldn’t develop that. Little Mal wasn’t feeling well yet her test was inconclusive. She was getting tested again in a couple of days. Emily and Lindsey’s tests were inconclusive and they felt fine and they were waiting to get retested. Ali had tested positive and was feeling just fine. She would get retested but until then, her and Ashlyn were isolating from each other in their house. Multiple players on both Japan and England’s teams were testing inconclusive or positive.

The National Team had made sure the players would have access to the nearest club’s medical team if necessary after the She Believes Cup. There was no denying the USSF was doing everything possible to give them medical access and providing them with digital thermometers, gloves, masks, disinfecting wipes. The next day, Tobin and Christen made appointments to get tested at the Thorns facility and were tested later that same afternoon. Two days later, both of their tests came back positive for COVID-19. In the two days that followed, both still felt lethargic and achy. Christen’s fever remained low yet persisted most of the day, usually lowering after a few doses of Tylenol. Tobin’s fluctuated from a low grade to around a hundred and one but tonight is the first time it has spiked so high.

The idea of needing to take Tobin to the hospital when she wouldn't be able to stay with her makes her stomach turn. She's been hearing the stories of people going on ventilators and being all alone. She's heard the stories of people dying. She wrings her hands as she looks at Tobin, praying her fever will lower.

Christen is very, very worried.

XXXX

Tobin casually shuffles through the locker room, gratefully eying the nameplates above the cubicles because she has no clue where her locker is or what jersey number she would be wearing. She smirks to herself when she sees her jersey hanging in the cubicle emblazoned with Heath and the number 23, immediately thinking of Christen. She strips off her warm up top quickly and puts on her jersey, feeling the silky material slide down on her and she realizes the oversized jersey is one from the men’s team. She remembers the women didn’t get their own styles of jerseys until a couple of years later. She sits down and looks out to see the others laughing and joking around and takes it all in. Her eyes follow Kate Markgraf animatedly talking to Cindy Parlow and Leslie Osbourne. In the corner a young Heather Mitts is huddled with Amy LePeilbet and Lori Chalupny. Then there’s Mia, staring down at her boots, nodding to herself as she slowly rocks back and forth in her seat and it reminds Tobin of how Alex Morgan prepares for her matches. Julie Foudy is panning the room with a video camera, annoying Lindsay Tarpley, Angela Hucles and Brandi Chastain. Tobin looks down at her boots, seeing brand new Nike Mercurial Vapors that she realizes are the ones her Dad took her buy before she left home to attend UNC. Holy shit! she thinks,That was like, fourteen years ago.

Shaking it off and figuring this is just a really wild dream, Tobin is pulling up the outer stockings that are obviously a men’s size and as she folds them over and scrunches them down so they’re at the height she likes when she hears the door bang open. “Listen up!” Coach Heinrich yells as she enters the locker room, making Tobin lift her head quickly, “I know it’s your final game, Mia, Julie and Joy, but we’ve got to play them tough. You all haven’t had much of a chance for training, so we’ll keep it basic.”

Mia, Julie and Joy’s last game? Tobin considers, That happened in like, 2004 or so didn’t it? So, I’m in 2004? she wonders to herself. Tobin hears her name again and zones in to listen carefully as April outlines the formation and style of play they want to use to attack the Mexico team. Holy shit! I’m really playing! she thinks, shaking her head in disbelief. This is so crazy.

A wave of anxiety overcomes her, suddenly nervous to be in this match. It’s an important one, a historical one. Three of the legends of soccer are retiring and she’s going to be on the pitch with them. She takes a moment to ground herself, remembering she’s played hundreds, maybe even thousands of soccer matches and once she’s on the pitch, this one will be no different. Just do your job and it will all work out, besides, it’s just a dream, she reminds herself.

She feels fingers lightly touch her forearm as she walks towards the locker room exit and turns to see Christen giving her another shy smile.

“Good luck out there,” she says quietly, “you’re gonna do great,”

“Thanks,” Tobin grins at her, “I-” she stops herself, knowing she was going to say her typical I love you to her before they exited the locker room like she’s always done for years. Then she realizes if this isn’t some strange dream and it’s really is 2004, her and Christen barely know each other. They had met two years ago at some camps and tournaments but don’t really know each other well. They kind of talk and kind of flirt, but they definitely aren’t dating yet. She doesn’t want to mess with karma. “I hope I don’t embarrass myself,” she amends.

“You never embarrass yourself on the pitch,” Christen states assuredly with a small smile, “just don’t get in your head.”

Tobin nods, “Just let go and let it flow,” she repeats their coach’s favorite saying, gives her a slightly nervous grin.

Christen nods as they push the doors open, “Let it flow,” she smiles at her, stepping back so Tobin can move up with the starters.

As Tobin walks, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly,Just go out and have fun. This is just a dream, she tells herself, an amazing, strange awesome dream.

XXXX

Christen is grateful Tobin has settled down now, not jerking or flinching anymore and mumbling incoherently, yet she’s craning her neck, as if she’s looking for something. Her eyebrows are knitted and she’s frowning slightly, pulling at the washcloth and brushing it from her forehead. Christen stands up, plucking up the washcloth and walking to bathroom to rinse it again with cool water.

She gets in bed when she returns, suddenly feeling very tired, the rush of adrenalin and fear exhausting her. She slowly slides in next to Tobin, leaning over and using the digital thermometer to take her temperature. When the device beeps, Tobin doesn’t even flinch at the noise and Christen looks in the dim light of their bedroom to see display a reading of 101.9. She sighs, hoping it will continue to drop. She glances at the digital clock on the bedside table and sees it is just past two in the morning. She lets out a heavy sigh, she’s tired. The two had stayed up until eleven, late for them, watching an interesting documentary on the Peace Corps and their assistance to native people on small Pacific islands.

She’s been trying to find shows to watch that will keep Tobin’s interest. Sports are out, since she’ll usually drift off on replay games, even basketball. It’s worse when Tobin zones out, worrying about being sick. Tobin hasn’t said anything to her but Christen knows it brings back memories of that terrible year Tobin had just out of college, breaking her ankle and having surgery and then being sick for nearly eight months with a mysterious illness that teams of doctors weren’t able to diagnose. She knows Tobin usually can push away those thoughts and she can’t blame her when she broods about it. She can’t imagine what her she had gone through, she doesn’t talk about it much.

Both have them have felt slightly out of whack since the virus has completely turned their plans upside down. They intended to work on the next product drop for Re-Inc. while they were home. Christen knows Tobin has been tossing around ideas, she was working on them during the tournament, but hasn’t been satisfied with anything yet and since they’ve been home, Tobin hasn’t felt well enough to go to her studio space to create. The four of them, herself, Tobin, Megan and Kling have discussed how intentional they want their products to be and the message and theme of each product drop.

Since Tobin had completed Volemics back in February, her second large painting to be auctioned off, the drop in July will be inspired by it. They’ve discussed if a rainbow product line would be appropriate, what the message they want to endorse with it and how they would achieve it. Shockingly, it was Megan who suggested that they should be subdued and perhaps not introduce a line that is outright themed as gay, yet remain ambiguous, letting others perceive what they want. It would flow with the non-binary clothing and sizing they wanted to continue to produce. It was a sound thought process, it would allow them freedom to be fluid with the message and theme and all agreed to it.

In their down time during the She Believes Cup, Tobin has been struggling with how she wants to design the tops and the new skateboard and towel. She wants to be sure the design looks good on each item. This down time was when she wanted to have the design set and approved by the others and ready to go before they started the NWSL season.
With the nagging headaches and fevers, neither of them have wanted to read or play cards or any other games, even chess. Thinking hurts both of their heads. The annoying headaches they both have dulled any enthusiasm to partake in much of anything other than distractedly watching TV. She knows Tobin is feeling really crappy when she doesn’t have the energy to go to her old apartment turned art studio to work on any projects.

Christen herself hasn’t felt the will to tackle any of the Re-Inc business she normally does. Kling and Pinoe have gladly picked up the slack, assuring her they’ll take care of it. They have a new drop approaching that’s been planned for months and Christen usually likes to oversee it. She’s confident the others can handle it, there actually isn’t much to do except promote and do some interviews.

Beside her with eyes still clamped shut, Tobin lets out a huff, frowning and turns her head as if she’s looking for something. She huffs again with frustration. “Chris?” she slurs questioningly.

Christen gently cups Tobin’s jaw, “It’s alright, baby,” she soothes, “I’m right here,” she says, “you’re going to be okay.”

Tobin stills and calms from her touch, “Let it go,” she mumbles, letting out a sigh. She’s quiet for a few minutes, then Christen notices how serious her expression changes. She realizes it almost looks like Tobin is wearing her game face.

XXXX

Playing is a dream, being in this midfield, feeding balls to Mia Hamm, her old coach Cindy Parlow, and a young Abby Wambach is unreal. Tobin is weaving her way through the midfield, passing the ball to Leslie and watching as she spins and lofts the ball to Abby who heads it into the net. Witnessing Mia on her corner kicks impresses her. Seeing her assists and her vision of the field leaves her in awe. Watching how Julie Foudy shuts down Mexico and threads the ball to the midfield fills her with pride. Julie on the pitch is so much different than Julie behind the microphone. She’s smart and fearless and a complete badass. Playing with Aly Wagner and Kristine Lilly in the midfield just knocks her off her feet. Seeing Abby so youthful and full of fire and passion and selflessly throwing herself at the ball makes her smile. It’s so similar yet different than Abby at the end of her career.
The minutes fly by and in the second half, it’s surreal to be in the pitch being hugged by Mia as she leaves the pitch for the final time. Watching an incredibly young Heather O’Reilly take her place makes her shake her head. Julie Foudy leaving minutes later, laughing and smiling as she jogs off the pitch is so opposite of Mia’s more somber and emotional exit.

The champagne shower Tobin receives in the locker for her first cap is unexpected as is shotgunning beers with these legends of soccer before they even get out of their uniforms. Her head is spinning and she’s laughing as she gets handed a signed ball from the team commemorating her achievement. Christen smiles shyly at her from across the locker room, lifting her beer can and nods. Tobin lifts her beer can to toast her back and they both take a sip and smile softly at each other. She wants to talk to her, hear her thoughts about tonight but each time she gets close, someone pulls her away to talk to lead her back to the cooler to shotgun a beer. Multiple times she tries to find Christen in the locker room, but each time she’s denied speaking to her. Must be a reason in this dream, Tobin thinks.

She looks around for Christen once more when she finishes dressing but sees her walking out the locker room with Heather Mitts. HAO and Abby grab her as she slings her backpack on her shoulder after she’s dressed an hour later. With a nice buzz from the beers, Tobin makes her way with them to the locker room doors.

“We’re going out,” HAO announces, giving Tobin a crooked grin and blowing beer breath in her face. She slings an arm around Tobin’s shoulder and leads her toward the exit.

“Hey, you three,” a voice calls, making them stop and turn around to face Mia who’s standing there with Julie and Joy and Carla Overbeck.

“You guys are it,” Mia announces with authority, “you’re the next wave,” she says seriously, nodding her head.

“Don’t forget what we’ve shown you,” Joy says softly, “how you have to give your best every time you’re on the pitch.”

The three nod their heads as they listen the veterans.

“Don’t take any of this for granted,” Julie states, “each call up, it’s a gift, treat it as one.”

“You three will get your World Cups,” Mia states with a convincing surety, the corner of her lips curling into a crooked smile, “and you’ll get your Olympic Golds,” she nods, “you have it in you.”

"And remember to remain true to yourself," Julie inserts, giving the three a stern look, "know what your message to the world will be," she says cryptically.

“And if you keep winning,” Joy nods at them, “maybe one day you’ll get a women’s cut uniform,” she says with a snort.

“And equal per diems,” Julie shakes her head.

“And equal pay,” Mia adds.

Julie elbows her, “Let’s not get crazy,” she smirks.

Joy looks at them carefully, “You might not think this,” she says slowly, “but you three will help grow the game. So, think about what’s important, not just for you, but for the future players and kids that look up to as role models.”

“Maybe one day I’ll be interviewing you as legends of the game,” Julie laughs, “we’ll eat donuts and talk footy,”

“Maybe I’ll own a team one day,” Mia chuckles, “and you’ll play for me,”

“Maybe I’ll coach you,” Joy laughs.

“Get out of here,” Julie says warmly, “we’ll keep our eyes on you, you three are going to be exciting to watch.”

“Uh,” Tobin utters, internally freaking out, “it’s been a total honor,” she says shakily, growing emotional and nearly tearing up, “you have no idea how much,” she sniffs as the three nod and smile at her.

“Get the rook drunk,” Joy advises Abby, “and remember work hard-”

“Play hard,” Abby smiles back at her, finishing the old saying, “you got it.”

Voices call out for Mia and Julie and the moment is gone. They turn around leaving the three younger players standing there in stunned silence.

“Well, you heard them,” HAO says, clearing her throat, “let’s go get drunk.”

XXXX

Just when Christen settles down to sleep, Tobin starts moving next to her. She’s flipped off the thin sheet, her legs sliding around, her hips shifting. She wonders what Tobin was dreaming about, her legs continually moving, as if she was running. It lasted for the first couple of hours, then she was mumbling incoherently and grinning. It kept her awake enough that Christen did video some of it, just so she could show her later. If she wasn’t so worried for her, she would find it amusing. Tobin usually has vivid dreams, often waking her during the night with talking or moving around. Christen is relieved that Tobin hasn’t attempted leaving the bed like she has a few times in the past. Tobin sleepwalking typically only happens when Tobin is stressed and overtired and it’s unsettling when Christen has witnessed it.

Christen shifts to her side, facing Tobin who is now flat on her back. She reflects about the last few days. After six days of both of them feeling pretty awful, Christen was only waiting for something to ignite a quarrel between her and Tobin. Tobin has grown increasingly quieter, not crabby or acting nasty towards her, just being quiet. It’s unnerving and Christen is worried Tobin has been keeping her anxieties within, letting them build up until she just explodes. Her doing that hasn’t happened in a few years.

When they first got together, Christen was rather shocked to learn of how Tobin kept so much inside and not having a positive outlet for her emotions. She had always put out this image of being happy go lucky, yet there was a very serious side to her, an intellectual side that looked at things very differently, and a vulnerable side not many people are privileged to see.

In the years they’ve been together both of them have grown, Christen learning to let go more, enjoy herself and not worry about the things she can’t control. Tobin learning to express herself when she’s uncertain or unhappy about something. They’ve both matured and taken ownership of their issues and actively worked on them separately and together. They’ve had their rough spots, especially after committing themselves to being in this relationship. Long distance is tough. It was really tough back then.

They’ve come through it and are stronger than ever, a committed pair ready to face anything together. They meditate together in the morning after Tobin reads her Bible and Christen does her yoga. Rarely are they out of sync. But every once in a while, something might trigger one of them. For Christen, it was the illness and death of her Mom. Tobin was her rock, her steady guiding force, putting Christen first and meeting her needs before she aware of what she needed. Christen is forever grateful to Tobin for how she helped her navigate through the darkest time of her life.

She feels Tobin is in a dark place now, this quarantine, the fear she holds of being sick, the worry of the country not being led well. She strokes her fingers lightly over Tobin’s sweaty forearm, hoping that the next temperature reading is lower. She thinks maybe Tobin has taken a more positive turn in her mind this afternoon, especially after their Facetime call with her Mom.

This afternoon, they were talking to Cindy when she Facetimed to check in with them and Tobin broke down. She’s usually calm and optimistic and seeing her struggling with rising panic and being so frightened, crying on the phone to her Mom was awful. All of her fears came pouring out, being sick, being so sick like she was in 2010, Christen being sick, family and friends getting sick. The political climate, trying to change how the world is, if they’re doing enough, is she doing enough. Christen tried her best to comfort her, holding her and soothing her as best as she could. She was crying right along with her. Poor Cindy didn’t know what to do, she felt so helpless, she was tearing up as well.

Christen is worried about Tobin’s and her own health. She’s powered through headaches to read about COVID-19 and how serious some of the lasting effects survivors are showing. Particularly the scarring in the lungs. Pneumonia from lying around so much, other organs being affected. That would kill their careers. It’s terrifying and to learn the doctors don’t know everything about this virus yet is even more terrifying.

Gratefully, neither of them are having any respiratory difficulties, besides Tobin’s usual spring allergies, although they’ve been cautioned they could develop. When Tobin began sniffling and sneezing two days ago, Christen just knew she was panicking about it and not realizing it was allergy season in Portland. She calmed her, gently reminding her this was normal allergies, nothing unusual, but they would monitor it.

After they got off the call with Cindy, Tobin had looked at her with watery, tired eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice nasal and uneven, filled with remorse and emotion, “I didn’t mean to lose it like that,”

Christen gave her a wistful smile, “I think we all needed it,” she said, “you, me, your Mom,” she nodded, “we all needed that release. We needed to hear the fears and acknowledge them, it was good, it was healthy.”

Tobin took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes, “You think?” she asked skeptically as she placed her glasses back on her face.

“I do, love,” Christen replied, “I feel better after that, don’t you? A little lighter?”

Tobin sniffled and considered for a moment, “Yeah, kinda,” she answered, a slow soft smile appearing on her face.

“Good,” Christen nodded, “now,” she glanced at the clock o the microwave in the kitchen, “I think we’re both due for some Tylenol, so let’s do that and then figure out something to eat.”

“Sounds good,” Tobin smiled gently, “then maybe a nap, I’m exhausted.”

Christen nodded, “I like that idea,”

Christen sighs and realizes she isn’t going to get much rest tonight. Between Tobin worrying her and her own mind wandering, Christen knows she’s in for a long night.

XXXX

Tobin gets back to the hotel that night happily singing in the hallway with HAO, Abby, Carli Lloyd and Heather Mitts. Once in her room with HAO, she tumbles onto her bed, sprawling across the mattress, content to stay there until morning. She kicks off her gym shoes, smiling into the comforter. She feels good. They had a ton of fun at the bar where the bartenders turned their heads and served them all. She even got see Christen dancing for a bit but was too nervous to join her on the dance floor.

She is certainly tipsy, not drunk because she didn’t want to get wasted and be completely out of control. She still wasn’t positive this was dream, maybe she died from the virus and she’s getting the chance to relive her life again. Maybe this is her heaven, so she wavered about doing anything with Christen. If this truly is a dream, she would have certainly flirted more with the dark haired beauty. But the lingering doubt remained of what if she wasn’t supposed to mess with their meeting? She doesn’t want to risk messing with karma if she shouldn’t try to flirt with Christen now. She strongly feels that everything had to happen in both of their lives for them to be who they were when they finally got together. They had to live and love and lose and grow up and be open to learn and mature before they were ready to commit to each other. That’s why they love each other so much and why their relationship works. She doesn’t want to screw everything up by being in this dream when it was fairly obvious Christen was only a secondary participant in it.
Tobin feels like she’s burning up and HAO is already snoring loudly on the bed next to her, the lights still on in the room. She rolls over on her back, clumsily picking at her shirt, Got to get this off, she thinks, I’m so hot.

She keeps trying to pull her shirt off but it won’t come off and she gives up, closing her eyes and falling asleep with Christen on her mind. I love her so much, she happily sighs, Thank you, God, if this is my Heaven, as long as she’s here with me, everything is beautiful. She feels a coolness across her body and she easily drifts off into a peaceful slumber.

XXXX

Christen squints in the darkness when she feels Tobin mumbling and moving next to her. Once again, she flicks on the bedside lamp, clicking over to the lowest setting. Tobin is still sweaty and her face is still flushed and she’s frowning as she picks at her damp shirt. Just as Christen reaches over to pull up her shirt, Tobin lets out a deep sigh.

“Love her,” Tobin mumbles, the trace of a smile on her face, “Thank you God,” she sighs, mumbling a long string of gibberish Christen can’t understand.

Christen smiles down at her as she rests on her side up on one elbow. She lets her fingers brush back the damp hair from Tobin’s face, grateful seeing her at peace for the first time tonight. No longer is the crease on her forehead nor the frown on her face.

Christen turns and grabs the digital thermometer, using it one more time. Breathing a sigh of relief that Tobin’s temperature is now ninety-nine point eight, she sets the device on the nightstand and flops back on the mattress with exhaustion. She lets her hand find Tobin’s forearm and strokes the clammy skin.

“Love you,” she says tiredly as she closes her eyes.

XXXX