Oxford Blues
a Brideshead Revisited story
by Vignette

Sebastian was fond of leaving playful, slightly cryptic invitations with my scout to meet for lunch or, more often, drinks with his circle of friends. Then, the frequency of such invitations diminished, to be replaced by requests to meet with Sebastian alone. Halfway through the Michaelmas Term of our second year, however, I received the strangest request of all.

"It wasn't delivered by that nice young Lord Flyte," my scout grumbled as he handed me the letter, which was undoubtedly in Sebastian's hand. "Some terrible affected gentleman brought it, very dark features he had."

"Anthony Blanche," I said to myself, knowing such a name would be meaningless to my scout, who simply scowled and finished clearing the rubbish. Intrigued, I opened the envelope; it wasn't usual for Sebastian to ask Anthony to deliver his post.

Dear Charles,
I think Aloysius is running a temperature, but I can't take it properly myself. What a pity we don't know any medical students. I simply can not look after him, and my scout is so beastly that he refuses to help, so I had to call for you. Come immediately,
Sebastian.
P.S. Bring brandy and clean handkerchiefs.

It was half an hour later when, after a precarious cycle ride down Magdelen Street with a half bottle of brandy tucked under my arm and pockets full of handkerchiefs, I arrived a Sebastian's rooms. Slightly out of breath, I climbed the stairs and knocked on the door before tentatively opening it, unsure of what I would find inside.

The first thing I noticed was that the curtains were still half- drawn, so that most of the room was in shadow. But one square beam of light bored into the room, hitting precisely where Sebastian sat, curled up in an armchair, covered with a blanket and with his large teddy-bear in his lap. The early afternoon sunlight glinted on his golden hair, which was slightly ruffled in one side. His eyes had been half-closed, staring at the empty fireplace but when I entered the room he looked up at me and smiled. Quickly though, his expression changed. His eyes closed, nostrils flared and his mouth opened slightly, while he furrowed his eyebrows, as if he were concentrating very hard on something.

"Hihh-ishhoo! Hihh-ishhooo!" he sneezed into a crumpled handkerchief held a few inches from his face. When he had raised his arm, I had seen that his shirt was crumpled too. This disarray fascinated me; it was so unlike Sebastian. He opened his eyes again, which were now dewy, and it was then I noticed the dark circles beneath them. Sighing gently, he carefully dabbed at his nose with the handkerchief and then, as if as an afterthought, rubbed at the nose of the teddy bear, the way one would a snivelling toddler.

"Oh dear," I said, smiling and placing the brandy on the table, before crossing over to him.

"I know," Sebastian replied. "Aloysius looks dreadful, doesn't he? Terribly pale." Carefully, remembering what my aunt had done when I was a child, I placed the back on my hand to Sebastian's forehead, brushing back the few strands of flaxen hair that fell across it. As I did so, he took my other hand and placed it on the forehead of the teddy-bear. "What is the diagnosis, Dr. Ryder?" he joked.

"Two very nasty head colds," I replied, removing my hands.

"I told Aloysius not to play out in the rain."

"You don't catch colds from getting wet," I said matter-of-factly.

"Of course you do," Sebastian informed me. "Anthony Blanche had the most shocking cold when I saw him on Tuesday. It seems they threw him in the fountain again."

"That's a shame."

"He does rather ask for it though." Sebastian closed his eyes again and I had the forethought to take a step back. Sebastian might be very kind, but he would be useless at taking care of me if I fell ill. "Hhh... hih-ishhuhh! Hhh-ishhoo!"

"Bless you," I said, as he sniffled into his handkerchief again.

"Thank you," he replied.

"It's bad luck to say that," I told him, opening the brandy and pouring a small amount into a glass.

"You are altogether too pagan, Charles," Sebastian informed me. I pretended not to find that funny whilst holding my cigarette lighter under the brandy, hoping to warm it a little. It did not seem to have the desired effect.

"Nevermind," I said abandoning my efforts. "I was never sure why it had to be warm anyway." I handed the resolutely cool drink to Sebastian, who sipped at it.

"I was never sure why it had to be brandy," he said. A moment later, he held the glass back out to me. I took it, puzzled. "I'm going to sneeze again," Sebastian explained. Sure enough, his nose twitched, brows knitted and another two sneezes forced their way out.

"Bless you," I repeated, patting Aloysius on the head for good measure. Sebastian snuffled wretchedly into the blanket this time, his cheeks unnaturally flushed against his pale skin, his blue eyes glinting.

"You're in danger of sounding like the Pope, Charles," he replied irritably.

"Did you want to go home for a few days?" I suggested, placing the glass on the small table beside him.

"Why would I want to do that?" he snapped, his cherubic lips becoming pursed and sulky. "My family are the least sympathetic group of people alive; you met them, you should know. Besides, I don't suppose anyone is at home." He turned over in his chair, catapulting Aloysius to the floor. I picked up the ailing bear and sat down with it in a chair opposite.

"I'm sure Nanny would take care of you," I ventured, remembering the way the old woman had doted on Sebastian the first time I visited Brideshead, which seemed like long before.

"She would never give me a minutes peace," Sebastian replied. "I really do not want to go home. Hhh... huh-ishhooo! Hhh... huhh-ishhuhh!" He groaned softly and coughed. When he spoke again, he voice was stuffier than before. "All this sdeezing is so biserable; I wish it would stob." Withdrawing one of the handkerchiefs from my pocket, I knelt down in front of him. I folded the handkerchief and placed it over Sebastian's nose.

"Blow," I instructed kindly. Sebastian did as he was told and when he had finished I refolded the handkerchief and placed it in his hand. Seeing the teddy-bear on the floor again, I picked it up and lay it in Sebastian's lap. He wrapped an arm around it gratefully. Suddenly he looked very sleepy. "Did you want me to go?" I asked, looking at his heavy eyes. Sebastian stifled a yawn.

"I'd be so bored," he replied, sounding clearer now. "Do stay." He put his hand on my shoulder, as if it were necessary to restrain me, as if I might run away at any moment.

"Of course I'll stay," I reassured him.

"Even if I fall asleep?" he murmured, looking as though he would do the same any second. Unexpectedly, his hand tightened its grip on my shoulder. "Hhh-ISHOO!" he sneezed violently into his shoulder. I directed the hand holding the handkerchief to his face in time for the second. "Hih-ishhuhh!" Sebastian wiped his nose but still looked sneezy and dazed.

"Hade this bloody code," he mumbled, his nose stuffed once more. "Remind be to throw Anthony idto the foundain for giving id to be..." He yawned again and closed his eyes gently. Within minutes his grip on the bear had loosened and he was making soft, snuffling noises.

I walked to the window and drew the other curtain so that all at once the room became strangely dim. Looking at Sebastian curled up in a chair, I wondered about waking him up again and putting him into bed. Deciding against it, I settled for drawing the blankets higher so they were up almost to his chin. He never looked so peaceful again as he did sleeping there, in the half darkness, like something from a lost age of innocence. An age that we too would lose, only we had not yet realised it. But I was satisfied that Sebastian was warm, comfortable, safe, so I poured myself a brandy, sat down in the chair opposite and began to contemplate the Times crossword.

Sadly I don't own the estate of Evelyn Waugh. If I did, I would be living the book not writing about it.
Written for week 75 Plot Bunny; Take one of those serious books, movies or even comics, a classic or just something that doesn't invite a fannish response, the kind you'd analyze in your M.A. Take the kind of book you'd never dream of writing a sneezefic on... and do just that. (Although I'm willing to challenges on the book chosen as there is some fanfic on it.) If you haven't read the book/seen the TV adaptation, you can try my notes.