October- "Water"

[Don't mind if I do....]

"Water?" Suggested Nick, holding up a bottle of water after rummaging in the fridge.

"Are you nuts?" said Mike before Zach had even a chance to open his mouth. "Do you KNOW how EASY it is for someone to choke to death when they're subconscious?"

"Alright alright," muttered Nick, returning the water to the dark lairs of the fridge where it had came from. "Yeesh."

Mike leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "What other options are there?" He asked Zach.

"None," was the reassuring reply. Zach went through the contents of the tin box again. "The only things I know that're done in this case are to take pills or injections, and since I don't have the equipments and, even if I do, I know how to give the injections...."

"So is she screwed then?" asked Mike bluntly.

Zach winced. "No," he said, "not yet. Hey Nick, do you have any canned beverages?"

"Grape soda?" Nick glanced at him, puzzled. "Are you thirsty?"

"No, we're going to make-do with ice packs," Zach tossed the towel from the girl's head to Mike. "Go and rinse that, please. How many cans do you have?" He asked Nick as Mike went out again, grumbling.

"Almost two six packs."

"Why..." Zach eyed Nick, "Nevermind. Get, uh, the other towels and wrap one around each can." He accepted the first can from Nick and placed it next to the girl's torso. "We need to get her temperature down somehow 'cause one of the most dangerous thing about high fevers is that they can damage the nerve tissue..."

"Okay," said Nick, handing Zach another wrapped can. "Just so you know, I don't have any more towels. Will paper towels do?" He asked when Zach gave an aggreivated sigh.

"Yes! Wrap two or three layers. That's good," added Zach, when Nick handed him the next towel-bound can. Mike returned and they reapplied the towel, adding to the task of moving the cold-cans every few minutes to avoid giving their unknown patient a frostbite. Then Zach decided to call time again; five minute count down for the thermometer.

"Is this actually going to work?" asked Mike, skeptical on top of his worries.

"It should..." murmured Zach. "We're not doing anything for the actual thing that made her sick you know, just lowering her temperature. Speaking of which, I haven't seen anything else that's wrong with her, so why's she unconscious?"

"Exhaustion," said Nick, plopping down on his roommate's bed.

"I wonder if it could be psychological," mused Zach.

"Or both," said Mike dryly, looking at his watch. "Time!"

"A hundred an--" began Zach, before all the lights went off.

"NICK!" hollered Mike.

"I didn't do ANYTHING!" Nick wailed back.

"It's not just here," said Zach, "listen to the wracket outside." They could clearly hear the screams and shouts from outside the room.

"Yeah, even I don't have the power to do that," said Nick.

"You never know," retorted Mike. "Zach, what's the temperature?"

"And two," said Zach, finishing his original sentence.

"Oh wow, it worked," said Mike with relieved surprise.

Nick cheered somewhere in the dark.