Gavin had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for Bella to return; his eyes snapped open as the phone rang. She must be running late. Gavin raised an eyebrow and smirked as he heard heavy breathing on the other end of the line, but sat up quickly and frowned as he recognized his sister's voice.

"Gavin. Need help. At Office. Bring doctor. Ilaria."

"Okay."

He hung up the phone, running toward the door. His mind was racing, but talking to Tara about it on the phone wouldn't help. As soon as his feet were in his shoes, he was sprinting out to the hall and down the stairs. As he hit the sidewalk, he hoped he'd closed the door behind him. And... well, he didn't leave a note. Bella would understand.

The first cab that drove by didn't want to stop, but the sight of a man in the road with a gun pointed at the windshield had a way of persuading people. Gavin got into the back, keeping his gun pointed at the driver.

"Race Street Pier. Fast."

Ilaria had just finished locking up the front door of the clinic when the sound of screeching tires could be heard echoing down Race Street. Out of sheer habit, Ilaria reached into her purse and put a hand on her revolver as she turned in the direction of the oncoming car. The yellow paint was distinguishing of a taxi. The door opened before the car even stopped. Trying to peer through the open door, Ilaria recognized the voice before she saw the face.

"Gavin?" 

She took her hand off her weapon and stepped closer. 

"What's going on? Is everything alright?" 

She didn't have to look, but she did anyway. Her medical bag was in her left hand, where it had been as she was locking up. 

Gavin shouted for the taxi to stay put, gun still in his hand. He didn't seem panicked or scared at all, but he was more focused now than he was during a boxing match- perhaps as focused as when someone was shooting at him. He moved quickly toward Ilaria and, with a hand on her shoulder, moved her gently but firmly toward the cab.

"Tara's sick. It's bad."

The cab's engine roared to life as the two of them slid into the back seat. 

"I don't know for sure. But she called me to get you. Meaning she can't move and could only remember my number... I think. I don't know."

He glanced down at the bag, then rode in silence the rest of the way.

When they arrived at Tara's small office/apartment above the East Cat, Gavin leaped out immediately, flinging a hundred bucks in the direction of the cabbie. Gavin took the steps two at a time, and Ilaria caught up with him as his key opened the door. When they entered, Gavin walked through the ornate office through a door that led to a small, spartan apartment. Tara was lying on the bed, pale and sweating. The phone off the hook had an audible dial tone. Tara's eyes were closed, and her voice was small.

"Weak. Fever. Headache. Went to Cuba. Might have caught something."

Without wasting a second, Ilaria moved to the bed and knelt down, opening her bag with one hand. She pulled out a clean, cotton cloth and tossed it to Gavin.

"Cold water, saturated, but not soaking."

Ilaria's mind went into overdrive.  Cuba...island...sea food...shoddy conditions...bad sewers...possible water contamination.

"Tara, do you remember what you ate while you were there?  Any oysters, clams, or scallops?"

Ilaria already knew what the most likely scenario was, but having the most information was most important.  Reaching into her bag, Ilaria pulled out a surgical mask and tied it over her nose and mouth.  She also took one out for Gavin for when he returned. 

Gavin muttered under his breath.

"When the fuck were you in Cuba?"

But he moved quickly to fulfill Ilaria's request. 

"Tara, do you remember what you ate while you were there?  Any oysters, clams, or scallops?"

Tara nodded. Just about every day. Aphrodisiacs. She sighed, then realized that her companion might be sick as well... still, one thing at a time.

"Yes."

Gavin returned, putting on a surgical mask with confusion as he handed the towel to Ilaria.

"What is she contagious or something?"

Nodding, Ilaria took the cool cloth and dabbed Tara's forehead with it.

"Very. Cuba is having a terrible time right now with Typhoid fever. It spreads so fast- it's almost at an epidemic level there, and so easy to come in contact with; especially through shellfish and contaminated water."

Leaving the cloth on Tara's forehead, Ilaria goes back into her bag and takes out a syringe, a rubber tube, and a glass vial.

"I'm almost certain it's typhoid- the weakness, fever, malaise- it's barely a question, but I'd rather be certain."

Ilaria tied the tube tightly around Tara's arm, just above the bend in her elbow.

"Tara, I'm going to take some blood.  I'm sorry, but you're going to feel a pinch."

After cleaning the area with iodine, Ilaria felt for a vein and carefully inserted the syringe.

"Gavin, she's going to have to get out of the city.  I don't know where you're going to take her, but you've got to get her isolated fast.  This could spread at an alarming rate, but if I can figure out who she's been in contact with since the fever started, I can probably catch any cases before they go hot."

She slowly drew the blood from Tara, then transferred it into the vial, capping it tightly with a rubber stopper.

"I'm going to get medications to send with you.  Whether you stay with her or not, though I imagine you will, you will both need to be on a steady round of antibiotics.  She'll need anti-inflammatory medications to help with the fever, and I'll give her something for the pain.  But I'm not kidding, you need to take the antibiotics too, so you don't get sick."

Once a bandage was secured on Tara's arm, Ilaria cleaned up and put everything she'd used into a paper bag, then stood.

"Stop by the clinic before you leave and I'll have the medications all ready to go.  Don't do anything else, just go.  I'm going to have a crew come and deal with her apartment, but you need to burn both your clothes as soon as you get where you're going.  Totally fresh clothes and bed sheets.  Got it?"

Gavin stared for a moment, then nodded. He trusted Ilaria, and he knew her well enough to know she wasn't the type to overreact to something like this. He walked with Ilaria to the door and thanked her. 

The next hour was a blur. Supplies were gathered and packed into the car that Gavin had purchased in cash... probably have to burn the fucking car, too. He stocked up on food, extra clothes, plenty of new sheets and blankets, surgical masks and gloves, then headed over to Ilaria's clinic. He knocked loudly at the door, glancing back to Tara in the car, who was sleeping with her head against the window.

"Got the medicine? What else do I need? How long until it's safe to comes back?"

A cardboard box was already sitting in a chair by the door waiting when Gavin arrived.  Ilaria was still wearing her mask, just to be safe.

"Everything you need is in here.  The paper bags have Tara's medications in them. Oral antibiotic every morning and night, same time every time. Pain medications as needed. Anti-inflammatory every four hours.  Keep her as cool as possible until the fever breaks- cool cloths, cool shower or bath as she can- all those will help.  It's just a matter of time.  When she's been without a fever for 48 hours, she's through the worst of it and no longer contagious.  It'll take her a week or so after that to get her strength back, but she can return home after the fever is gone for 48 hours."

She picked up the box and handed it to Gavin.

"As for you- same schedule on antibiotics- first thing in the morning and just before bed, same time every day.  You have got to do the entire course, even if you feel just fine.  This is a preventative measure.  There is also a bottle of vitamins in there that I want you to take.  They will help boost your immune system."

Ilaria took a deep breath, trying to think if there was any more information she needed to give him.  

"When you get settled, send me messages and let me know how she's doing.  I'll come in a few days if you like and check on her.  But if she seems to get worse, send someone for me immediately."

She could see the concern in the man's eyes.  The relationship that Gavin and Tara had was unlike any sibling relationship she'd ever seen.  It was unique and heartwarming, but it was clear his heart was breaking seeing his sister like this.  Ilaria reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Tara is a fighter.  Not with her fists, like you, but her spirit.  She's going to be fine.  She just needs time, rest, plenty of fluids, and you."

Gavin listened intently, nodding to show his understanding. He spun towards the car when she was done, but halted and looked back.

"Thank you, Ilaria."

The car, still with the price tag on it, spit out gravel from its wheels as it accelerated into the evening.

The cabin in the Tioga State Forest was small; his bank account couldn't afford much more strain at the moment. Gavin grinned as he remembered the note he'd left for Bella- and the note and photograph he'd received in return. With Tara deposited safely in bed, medicine taken and sleeping, Gavin picked up the phone and spun the numbers. His voice was quieter than usual so he wouldn't wake his sister.

"Hey... Bella. So I'm not going to be home for dinner... Tara has typhoid fever. She'll... probably be fine. I probably won't get it, but I guess it's real contagious, so we're holed up in the woods for a while. A week at most."

He paused. Probably should have let her say something other than "hey" first. Oh well.

Quiet music played over the AM station carrying "Evening at the Blackhawk" live from Detroit.  Gavin not being home when she'd gotten there, or being late, had become such a thing that she was actually starting to almost expect it.  For all Tara's complaints about her brother being shiftless and Gavin's complaints about Tara never stopping her work to have any fun... from where Isabella stood the twins were more alike than they really wanted to admit. 

She wrapped Gavin's in foil as she'd done many times this past month and put it into the fridge for his arrival later just as the phone began to ring loudly.  Drying her hands she made her way to the phone and thought back to the first few times she had tried to reheat Gavin's food and how badly she'd failed.  How much water had that poor man had to drink just to choke down those dried out things?  She was near laughing as she picked up the phone.

"Hello?"  She said warmly as she held the receiver between her shoulder and right ear.

Gavin's words came in a torrent.  He hadn't greeted her which was NOT a good sign.  Her body tensed and her eyes darted over to the note that had told her that her dress was nearly finished.  She was supposed to go pick it up today but had gotten badly sidetracked and had stayed in Philly instead.  As he said where he was, she was suddenly very glad she had.

She didn't reply immediately, she was angry he'd been exposed to a disease... but this was Tara and she knew he'd do anything for his sibling, even face death.  She was blood.  His LITERAL other-half... and so she pushed back any of her own fear as deep as she could bear and tried to keep it from her tone.

"Of course."  She said.  "You need to be with her.  Please take care of yourself too... for me?"  She knew that last bit revealed a small bit of her concern.  "I'll take care of things here.  Is there anything you need to be handled in the meantime?  Anything I can do for Tara?  Cancel any appointments?  Tell Jack?  Anything at all... I'm glad to do it and what number can I reach you at?  Or are you calling from where you're staying?  Do you need anything sent to you?  I mean, I could do a drop somewhere if you like so you don't expose me to anything."  

She tried to keep focused on business, that would keep her from thinking about that note on the table and what happened the last time she had a wedding dress finally finished and ready to be taken home.

"No clue. She's pretty out of it, so any appointments'll just have to wait. I might call you tomorrow; you can talk to her if she's up.. and I think I've got everything we need. Help out Jack with whatever you can, I guess. And I'd like you to stay away, just to be safe. No use risking yourself. But seriously. I'll be good. I've got masks and gloves and shit. And outside of carrying her to the car or the bed, I've tried to keep my distance. It'll be fine."

She paused. 

"I know."

She swallowed audibly and then chortled dryly.  "You're a man who jumps out of perfectly good airplanes, gets knocked off cliffsides, and runs headlong up flights of stairs into a wall of gunfire... I think it's a safe bet to make that a little cold won't be the thing that finally takes out Gavin Byrne or his spitfire Sister."

She knew damn well Gavin was worried about Tara, he didn't need to say it.  Only a fool wouldn't be worried which was why he was trying to reassure her that he'd be fine.  Isabella wasn't a fool either.  "If you get too bored, call me.  We can talk.  You know me, I never run out of crazy crap to say and if I do... I got a lot of books.  I think we're still working on that Sherlock Holmes one and it gives me a perfect excuse to get through it."

She wet her lips.

"I'll be praying for Tara.  And don't worry about me... I did as you asked with that little gift of yours.  I'm as safe as anyone can ever hope to be."

She thought about how to end the call.  She wanted to say something they very rarely said to one another, and some small part of her couldn't help but recall how much she regretted not saying it that day he ran up the stairs in Detroit, but it would only make Gavin more on edge.  Saying that she loved him now would confirm for him she feared for his safety whereas a neutral goodbye might inspire confidence and lead him to believe she really did think things would end okay.  So... she did what they usually did.  She made a joke.

"BUT... when you get back, you're going to have to make up for lost time.  I'm going to be very lonely without you, you know?  So... take your vitamins and get plenty of rest Mister, you're gonna need it."

"I'll be back soon."

There was empty silence for a moment before the line clicked off, and Gavin found himself alone in the cabin, watching over the sleeping form of his sister.