Flonne was in a bad way, to put it mildly. All she had wanted to do was help Laharl - how had it all turned out so badly? Somehow they'd both been hit with Larxene's lightening, and then the Nobody had taken one of her knives to Flonne's arm. Flonne, having already used most of her magic to heal Laharl when she'd first found him after that long week of him being missing, didn't even have enough magic to cast the most basic of healing spells, let alone anything strong enough to take care of the both of them.

And then, somehow, she'd gotten sick. She had no idea how that could have happened - she hadn't eaten anything funny, and she hadn't seen anybody else sick so she couldn't have caught it from them...she didn't know how it happened. The lack of explanation, however, didn't change the fact that she was lying in bed back at the hotel with a fever high enough to boil water - not that she'd tested it, of course. She was too busy lying in bed, falling in and out of fitful sleep and trying fruitlessly to get comfortable.

It was after one of these short naps and a fever dream about singing dancing chocolate eggs that Flonne awoke to hear quiet noises next to the bed. She glanced around the room, trying hard not to panic, and it was only after she'd not seen anything did she remember the only person who'd been with her was Laharl, and if he sat on the floor she wouldn't be able to see him from the bed.

What worried her was, the noises sounded awfully upset, almost like somebody was trying not to cry. If this was Laharl...

Her throat and mouth were dry, and that made this even more difficult. "Laharl?" she finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper.