Six Feet Apart, Please! (Percy/Leon)

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Leon closed his eyes again, his smirk softening into a fond smile as he felt every muscle in his body relax. He was sitting upright, but all of that talking and ranting drained him of whatever energy he had left, making any position comfortable. Percy spoke quietly after his little fit of surprise—was he about to cry? When Leon closed his eyes, they felt too heavy to reopen, so all he could do was listen to his voice. He wished he'd keep talking to him as he let his mind slip away.

What Leon felt after that was soothing. It was a feeling similar to crying your eyes out and then sleeping like a baby right after. For the first time in forever, he was able to share just a bit of his troubles with someone he trusted, and even if it didn't solve any problems, it made the burden of having them much lighter against his chest. The longer he laid there, smiling drowsily, the softer his features became until he had completely begun to doze off.

"Yeah..." Leon started in a hushed, scratchy voice, "...I'm sorry... too..."

And just like that, he was peacefully whisked away into a feverish slumber. He felt a number of things during that chat with Percy, whom he had felt he had grown closer to in just that exchange alone. A lot was discussed and a lot of wounds were brought to light, but all that stuck with him the most was the single feeling the lingered, even in slumber—how nice it was to fall asleep to the sound of his voice. Maybe his home was just quiet, but it was all he could hear, and he didn't mind it.


Even as the two young men exchanged their histories with one another, and as the boronavirus surged through the country, the day carried on and before they knew it, it was completely dark outside.

When Leon woke up, the room was devoid of any light. The nearest clock told him that it was two in the morning, just five hours before he usually got up, but he lingered between this feeling of exhaustion and restlessness after sleeping for so long. His body felt heavy like lead, and his head was pounding like a hammer against his brain. He felt incredibly hot against the still-damp towel on his forehead, and he was sweating bullets. That wasn't even mentioning the fact that he fell asleep before he could eat dinner with Percy, not that he even had an appetite anymore. His desire to eat had vanished along with his energy, but he knew these symptoms very well.

"Ughmh... hngh!" Leon groaned and instantly noticed how his already-deep voice dropped an octave. His sore throat had worsened in just a few hours, leaving it dry, tender, and sensitive to the air he inhaled and exhaled. In fact, everything was worse. He only felt a little under the weather earlier today, but now he wouldn't have been able to tell if there was anyone else with him in the room through the fever dominating his senses. The moment he opened his mouth to groan, Leon immediately started a coughing fit. With a weak glare, he leaned over to the coffee table and plucked out a few pills that Percy had fetched earlier, letting the damp towel that was gingerly placed on his forehead fall off yet again in his sickly movements.

He grabbed the glass of water and threw his head back to try and wash it down his throat, but he ended up coughing as it went down. Immediately, he felt something rise from the bottom of his stomach to the top of his throat. He could tell that his body was sensitive to most things right now, but this was possibly the worst.

In a panic, Leon slammed the glass back down onto the table and made a break for where he remembered the bathroom being. He floundered in the darkness, his hand over his mouth to keep himself from puking over Percy's home, his other hand groping along the walls and furniture to guide him to the toilet. His unsteady coughs suppressed through his full mouth, Leon slammed the bathroom door open, ripped the toilet seat up, and immediately fell to his knees as he vomited into the bowl.

His unrelenting and groggy groans could be heard throughout the silent house, as he continued to release what felt like his entire stomach into the appliance. He went on and on until there was nothing left in his body to unleash except for saliva, and still, he'd gag dryly as the physical impulses took over. Saliva ran down his chin, and sweat outlined his jaw. Leon looked far worse than he did a few hours ago, his marigold eyes glossy and wet from the relentless vomiting.

Leon rested his arm and forehead on the seat, sprawled on the floor as he held onto the toilet, panting with a scratchy throat. He had never felt so sick in his entire life, and he had never felt a bathroom floor so cool against his hot, sweaty skin. Honestly, he wanted to go to sleep right there, in the darkness of the bathroom now that he had vomited everything out of his body. But he couldn't, and the little spark of reason left within him knew it.

"Pills... I need to take... my pills... where... I... ahg... unghm..." Leon turned his face so that his cheek was resting on the seat, his eyes closed as if he were really going to sleep there. He felt like he was going to die. "...Pills..."

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Leon's head was in the clouds. After vomiting his stomach out, all of the energy he restored through the few hours of sleep he got dissipated into exhaustion yet again. Even as Percy came into the bathroom and helped him trudge back to the couch, Leon kept his eyes closed for the most part. Every movement was slow and staggering, and his throat felt so tender that he felt that even one unsteady breath out of place could throw him into another coughing fit.

Leon plopped back down onto the couch and almost immediately fell back asleep, feeling the coolness of a towel dab against his face and wipe away the spit and sweat that dirtied it. It was embarrassing—feeling emotionally vulnerable one minute and physically vulnerable the next. Leon prided himself on his ability to take care of himself when ill, but this boronavirus really made him run for his money.

Weakly, Leon turned his head over so that he could look at his caretaker in the dark, opening his teary eyes to watch him. He wasn't wearing his suit? Did he rush out of bed to tend to him? Even though his concerns were broken and clogged with thoughts of his own sickness, Leon managed to mumble something out before falling back to sleep.

"Rest..." Leon's eyes fluttered shut as his energy slipped him away into slumber. He wanted to say a number of things to Percy, but only one thing managed to come out amongst the rest. "...Go back... to bed... and rest..."

Leon fell asleep again.


Later that day, Leon ended up waking up around the same time he usually did despite his illness. It was around this time that he was cleaning himself up and going out for his morning jog around the River Village. He'd come back inside, clean up a little bit, and then lounge around until it was time for him to drive into Rose Garden for his work with Percy. It was a really strange feeling to wake up in his house, still feeling like death itself.

On the bright side, he didn't feel the urge to hurl the depths of his stomach out when he woke up, but he was still too wary of vomiting again to take his pills. His fever didn't break, so he was still sweating and hot, but he was awake.

Through intermittent coughing fits, Leon gazed out of the windows and into the scene of the sky overcast with early morning clouds, filling the world with muted colors, greys, and morning dew. He couldn't smell anything, and despite having only eaten a single bite of a hamburger in a day, he still had no desire to eat. Laying there, he was tempted to go upstairs and check on Percy. Was he awake? He wasn't too worried, was he? It was hard to imagine him not stressing out because anyone would, wouldn't they? In any case, Leon could only wonder, because he was still too exhausted to even get up. His coughing fits were brutal and whipped the life out of him, and his face was still sickeningly flushed from the fever that refused to break.

Leon reached over to the table and grabbed his phone, putting in his passcode as it opened up to the contents of his device. The first thing he did was go to his direct messages, where he'd open up a chat with someone with a woman's name—"Melinda." It was some middle-aged woman from the River Village, and technically his neighbor. She and a few others insisted on helping him move in some time ago, and to contact them if he ever needed anything. And, well, judging by how sweaty he was, he needed his clothes. Percy's stash of garments wouldn't last very long and laundry would have to be done so often that'd it be pretty ridiculous. Still, Leon disliked the idea of asking people for things, but he felt so exhausted right now.

After texting Melinda, he opened up his direct messages with Percy. He was only a few steps away, being upstairs and all, but Leon couldn't muster up the energy to climb them and speak. A text would have to do.

"come see me when you get up" he typed, sending it before leaning back into the couch with a nasty, deep groan. He had to get better.

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Leon flinched a little when he heard the electronic beeping noise. He was in such a daze that he seemed detached from his surroundings, so he ended up being silently startled by Percy's sudden awakening. Unlike his usually neat parted locks, crisply pressed outfits, and his typical air of professionalism, Percy looked like an absolute mess. He had a wild case of bedhead, his blue eye was bloodshot and both of them had bags underneath, and his clothes stuck to and hung from his from. Honestly, it was a little shocking to see him like that. Leon never saw him look like such a... well, regular person. It was kind of funny, actually, and his ears ended up flushing a little for different reasons.

"I didn't mean to wake you up..." Leon responded in a quiet, apologetic voice. He wanted to follow it up with telling him to continue his slumber, since Percy obviously needed it, but he would probably decline anyway. With his appearance, it looked like he stayed up all night trying to take care of him, and the thought of it made Leon frown a little. He couldn't sit around and leech off of him, so he had to try harder. Sluggishly, Leon sat up and leaned forward, sitting properly on the couch with his body slouched low. "Have any canned soups or anything...?"

As Leon continued to linger on the couch, he ended up stretching his hand out towards Percy's face, taking the subconscious liberty of plucking the fuzz from his hair. Even after he finished what felt like grooming his friend, he ended up carding through his hair to try and restore the usual equally-parted appearance he was used to seeing. Leon was a very physical, touchy man, and while a lot of that sort of behavior was repressed when he was well, his feverish daze exhausted his concern for boundaries. In another way, it was soothing to have something in his hands like this.

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There was a mild disappointment is seeing Percy rise to his feet, leaving him for the kitchen. Leon really did love his hair. When they befriended each other at the Singles event, he recalled telling him that it was his hair that he found most attractive. Or maybe he said his eyes? In any case, both were equally stunning, and Leon ended up acting on his most suppressed impulses by touching it like that. What he didn't know, however, was that the events that followed Percy's departure brought on a bout of emotional distress and second-hand embarrassment by the likes in which he had never felt before—cooking.

With how optimistic Percy sounded about the soup, Leon initially took his word for it and watched him with the firm understanding that hearty soup was being prepared for him. The semi-redhead was right, after all, soups were a famously simple thing to create. Easy, simple, and delicious if you really got the seasoning right. Leon leaned back and slunk into the couch cushions with his mind at ease knowing that he was going to be fed soon. He was wrong to feel such security.

Watching Percy cook was like looking at evidence that natural selection was still needed. Vegetables were burnt, fingers were cut, and Leon could've sworn he saw Percy put raw chicken in the soup at some point before discarding it for a redo. Instead of prepping everything before cooking it all, he seemed to do it as he went, and everything fell apart over and over again. Leon had never heard or seen Percy use such language except when venting about problems in his inventions, but unlike how it felt in the lab, Leon was beginning to fear for both his life and Percy's as he watched all hell break loose in the kitchen.

There were points where Leon felt obligated to go and help him, or to use what little energy he had to yell instructions at him from across the room, but he didn't have the ability to do either of these things in his current condition. All he could do was sit there on the couch, helplessly watching his friend conjure up a pot of food poison for them to feast on. He stared at the scene, eyes wide with horror and shock as if he were watching a car wreck—he couldn't take his eyes off of the inevitable tragedy. Wait, was that smoke?!

By the end of it all, there was soup. Nothing more. Nothing less. Leon wasn't religious, but as Percy placed the tray of food on his lap, he closed his eyes and prayed. He didn't know who or what was listening, but he was offering his worship if it meant he could leave this meal without a trip to the hospital to get his stomach pumped. Please.

Leon opened his eyes after his sincere and small prayer, blowing off a spoonful of Percy's soup before eating it. The sickly expression on his face didn't change, but he internally confirmed it—it was terrible. His lack of taste aside, the texture was all over the place and the only thing that seemed to make the meal enjoyable were the glasses of water and platter of crackers. He was careful to not let his severe disappointment and terrible anxiety show on his face, though.

"It's the thought that counts. But, Percy, in the future..." Leon looked at him, forcing as warm a smile as he could, his voice still quiet and raspy, "I'll be cooking our meals. All of them... so, can you have someone deliver groceries until this is over?"

It was for both of their sake.


About a week had passed since the beginnings of Leon's boronavirus diagnosis, and at this point, the worst had passed. The first few days consisted of relentless vomiting, violent coughing fits, a fever that would break and rise time and time again, and slumber so deep that even a Pergranden invasion wouldn't rouse him. But since yesterday, that was no longer the case.

Leon, albeit still very ill, was well enough to move around without help. He still couldn't smell or taste anything, but that wasn't so bad now that he had forcefully taken over the kitchen the instant he could. While he still had nasty coughing fits, fatigue that he simply couldn't shake off, and weakness all over, he was still doing better than he was a few days ago. Percy, however, was anything but.


"Perce? You awake?" Leon gave two obligatory knocks on his bedroom door before letting himself in. For one reason or another, he ended up using the simple nickname and continued to use it during his care. Sometimes it felt easier to say that, and more endearing.

In his hands was a tray complete with a platter of food fit for eating: chicken noodle soup (done right), a glass of water, a smaller mug of hot tea with honey and ginger, and crackers to complete the meal. Compared to Percy's cooking, Leon's was leagues apart. Even though neither of them could smell or taste anything, he took the liberty of seasoning it to perfection anyway since he ended up feeling irritated if he didn't try to make good food regardless of their condition.

Inevitably so, Percy ended up snagging a nasty case of the boronavirus just like him, and while Leon was transitioning into a rocky recovery, Percy was entering the worst of it all. Funnily enough, it seemed as if their roles had swapped and it was now Leon's turn to be the caretaker while also tending to his own unwellness. It was probably nothing compared to what Percy was feeling right about now.

"I ordered something for us to do if you feel well enough for it," Leon begun with his scratchy voice. It wasn't at such a sickeningly low octave like before, but the tenderness was still prevalent. He placed the tray on a nightstand and sat on the side of Percy's bed, turning over to look at him with his wild black hair dangling from his head—it was beginning to grow out. "You listening?"

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"Oh, definitely. I'll turn it into a pawn shop for all of your stuff, and then buy a dozen hazmat suits to decorate your tomb," Leon teased back with a serious look on his face, looking at Percy's back as he sighed theatrically. Eventually, Percy turned around and showed his face to him in all of its sweaty and flushed glory. The dark-haired man smiled when he did, pleased to see his friend, even though he was not in a great condition.

Maybe BOVID-19 was the best thing that had ever happened to the two, after all. Something about seeing one another as useless, sweaty heaps of vulnerable men created a sort of solidarity between them. They both learned a lot about one another in conversations that may have not happened if not for their circumstances, and Leon ended up swimming deep in the very conflict he was trying to avoid for weeks now—Percy himself.

Cooped up in a house alone with a friend whom Leon regarded fondly really loosened the tight boundaries he kept on himself for so long, and eventually, he completely dismissed them altogether. Despite his appearance, Leon was a very physical and cuddly man, and if his sickly haze was not enough to make him embrace his most natural impulses, a pouting and touchy Percy certainly would. It did. On multiple occasions. He really didn't seem to care anymore, actually.

"I got Wario Kart for the Nintendome Swap," Leon replied in between clearings of his throat and threats of coughing fits, continuing his caretaking routine as Percy clung to him. He leaned over to the nightstand where the tray sat and next to it was another tray of items he had left in the room for whenever he came in to care for Percy: pills for fever reduction, a stack of small, dry towels, a bowl of ice water that he frequently refreshed, and some other things that were nice to have on the spot. He went on to wet a towel, gingerly and meticulously dabbing it over Percy's sweaty face before placing it on his forehead.

After that, Leon was quick to get comfortable. He looked at Percy with soft eyes in addition to his intense complexion and changed positions so that he was sitting up beside him on the edge of the bed. He laid there and continued to gently card through his friend's hair, finding the sight and feeling of his fingers combing through his hairs almost therapeutic—as if he were petting a cat on his lap. At first, it was stuff like this that Leon tried to avoid in moments of innocent temptation since Percy didn't look like the type who would enjoy that sort of physical attention. But, lately, seemed to care less and less about the rules he had placed on himself.

"Want me to set it up while you eat?" Leon spoke in a hushed, husky voice, as if not to disturb a sleeping child. With all this sharing they were doing, Leon found it difficult to ignore the obvious fondness he held for Percy, and like so many other things, he dismissed any sort of red flags he came across if only to enjoy their budding, borona-infested friendship without having to worry about the implications. Leon was still feeling pretty shitty himself, still. "I'm going to take those blankets away from you, by the way... you're not as cold as you think you are."

Having had the worst of BOVID himself, Leon took up the caretaking torch with a little bit more confidence than he would've if he hadn't. He was able to hide anxiety pretty well, but who didn't get nervous when faced with a virus with no known cure? Honestly, seeing Percy so unwell made his heart ache with apprehension. It was his fault that he caught it, after all. If Leon hadn't been so careless, this wouldn't have happened to him. With this guilt tormenting him throughout Percy's recovery, Leon made it his mission to make him as comfortable as possible.

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Percy acted like a marshmallow when he was sick, as Leon was beginning to find out, and it made his heartthrob each time. Every time Percy whined, pouted, and clung to him, Leon could feel his brow twitch just slightly as he tried to suppress his growing attraction for his friend. He ended up frowning a lot in order to stop himself from grinning, and he found it easiest to look at Percy only when Percy wasn't looking at him. At this point, he tried not to think about what it'd be like after they both fully recovered, seeing as they've made unintentional steps in an unforeseen direction since being cooped up here together. Ever since Leon escaped his feverish daze, he had time to confront what was obviously happening to him, and he decided to ignore it for the sake of his own enjoyment. It was selfish, but how could he push Percy away when he clung to him like that? Every time he told himself that he'd maintain the boundaries between them, he grew weak every time Percy did something remotely cute and ended up succumbing to his own cuddly, physical needs whenever he got the chance. In hindsight, it was sort of embarrassing.

"I'll be quick," Leon told him, taking the tray from Percy's lap once he finished half of it in addition with a pill and some water, and placed it back on the nightstand. The vomiting was probably the worst part of the illness, so Leon always kept an eye on him whenever he ate. But as he watched him eat, he was also a little anxious about how he'd respond to his offer to video games.

When he was much younger, Leon had a friend who would play this type of stuff with him. He wanted to play with Percy, but he wasn't sure if he was actually into this type of thing, and it would've really sucked if he wasn't—Nintendome didn't mess around with their prices, and buying two controllers was no joke either. The Swap was Leon's first luxury purchase since he started working for Percy, and he was eager to play with him. So, when the semi-redhead not only perked up but called dibs on Vowser, of all characters, Leon met him with an excited twinkle in his sharp eyes. Just as he warned, he peeled off the layers of blankets Percy was hogging and then hastily made his way downstairs.

After vanishing downstairs for a few seconds, Leon returned with a large plastic bag with several colorful boxes inside. The set up took under ten minutes as he hooked everything up to the television in his room, and when he finished connecting him, he crawled back in bed next to Percy with two controllers in hand.

"I'd feel really bad if I beat a sick kid too harshly, so I'll go easier on you," Leon smirked smugly as he handed the controller to Percy, his legs criss-crossed as he sat next to him. He booted the game and navigated to the character select menu, where he scrolled over to Donkey King. "You can turn auto-steering on if you think it'll give you an edge, man."

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Leon seemed particularly pleased to find out that Percy seemed just as willing to smack-talk as he was. He sort of figured that that'd be the case, since he was pretty cocky when they sparred. But it's been over a week since they've abandoned their usual routines, so Wario Kart was supposed to be a substitute for their competitive natures. Who would've thought that it'd do the trick?

Still, being sick made the experience milder than it would've been if Leon's health were well. Just how he was with most things, Leon played games intensely. He was vocal and jumpy and was one of those people who knew that pushing the buttons harder didn't make your gameplay more effective, but did it anyway. As if to top it all off, he also cursed a lot when things didn't go his way, so, needless to say, it was entertaining when he lost. But this wasn't the case, here.

For the majority of the race, Leon had been in the top three racers. He alternated between first, second, and third place over the course of the track, and ended up landing in second by the end of it all. Turns out the computers were much harder to race against than he initially thought, but second place was far better than how far behind Percy was.

"Oh man, did I—did I just completely destroy the Percy Dagger exactly how I said I would?" Leon looked at Percy when he glimpsed at him, the smuggest look on his face. When Leon won petty competitions like this, he made sure to rub it in. He clicked through the leaderboards on the screen in preparation for the next race in the cup, "I bet you wanna cry right now, right? I'll tell you what. If you get in a higher place than me this round, I'll do any one thing you want, and same for me. No questions asked. 'Kay? You need some motivation, right?"

Leon really, really enjoyed rubbing this stuff in.

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Everything was going so well. Just like the race before, Leon managed to stay in the top three racers for the majority of the race. His cleverly placed banana peels obstructed the track behind him and ruined many of his opponents' chances at securing a spot at the top. He avoided red shells with his green ones, and he managed to take some faster shortcuts along the way. At some point, he managed to secure a spot at the lead of the crowd, managing to stay in first place until the final lap—it seemed certain that he was going to win, and he wore a confident smirk for a long time. The trophy was about to fall right into his lap, so how could things go so wrong?

Every now and then, Leon would briefly click a button to check his rearview. The computers that he had been sharing the track with for the majority of the race suddenly began to change more and more until it was no one but him and Percy shooting for the finish line. Leon began to grow anxious, but he was still far enough in front of his friend in order to win the race yet again—or so he thought. Suddenly, he saw the blue shell appear in his foe's hands, and his heart sank knowing what impending doom was about to come upon him. His face grew red, his eyes eager and panicked as he slowly leaned over. He mashed his buttons, raised his voice, and still, it seemed like there was no escape. There was nothing more he could do, and soon the blue shell circled over his character like a vulture, and Donkey King exploded in extravagant combustion of blue, stopping his kart in the middle of the track as Percy dashed past him, along with four other racers. Leon lost and ended up crossing the finish line in sixth place.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MAN!" Leon burst out in a fit of defeated rage, just like usual. When he won, Leon was insufferable, but when he lost, his anger and displeasure was the most satisfying reward that any competition could ever offer. His face contorted into a nasty glare, like a child who grew angry when the dog they hit suddenly bit back. Slamming his controller onto the mattress, he began to curse at no one in particular. "How's that shit allowed, anyway?! Punishing the dude who is clearly killin' it so that other people can win? What a fucking joke! Hey!—Ngh!"

Amidst Percy's obnoxious cheers, the semi-redhead came crashing back down onto Leon, continuing to laugh even after the minor collision. Leon, on the other hand, was still every bit as upset as he was before, lying beneath Percy with a clearly irritated look on his face. He stared at his friend, eyes sharpened and nose crinkled, throwing the fit just as the semi-redhead predicted. Still, feeling him against him like this quieted that anger for a moment as he wrapped Percy in a weak embrace. His big, strong arms coiled around Percy's waist in a delicate squeeze—not too firm as if he were pushing him into his body, but not so fragile that he could roll out of it as he silently admitted defeat. Lately, his body was moving before his mind could catch up with it.

"Shut up, dude. You know that the way you won was total bullshit," Leon look at him, laying there with his brows in a screw and his lips sealed in an almost pouting frown. "So, what do you want?"

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Watching Percy lower his head into his shoulder suddenly made Leon feel a bit strange. His heart began to race a little. It was funny how one minute, Leon couldn't care less about what was unfolding and did things as if they were natural, and another minute, he got all worked up like this. This was one gnarly fever.

In any case, it was no surprise that after all of that jumping and shouting that Percy was drifting away into drowsiness. That bout of energy from before was short-lived, and after a short while, even Leon was beginning to get tired. All he could do was lay there with Percy on top of him, listening to his mumbling with the music of the game playing ambiently in the background. Compared to Leon, Percy was smaller in size, and fit so nicely in his arms. It was kind of crazy to know that this was the same guy that could wipe the floor with him easily, but now he was just a cuddly mess of a man. Leon could hardly complain, though. After all, he wasn't any better.

Percy's next request surprised Leon just a little bit, his eyes widening just fractionally as he held his friend in a ginger embrace. Throughout these last few days, Leon often found himself playing with the hair he seemed so attracted to. He'd run his fingers through the locks of white and red until he was satisfied or he couldn't any longer, but he hadn't thought much about it until now. It's not like Percy recoiled away whenever he did it, so he obviously didn't mind it, but to think that he'd use his no-questions-asked reward for it?

"Oh. Yeah, okay. Sure..." Leon mimicked the same softness in his tone, quietly beginning to run his fingers through Percy's hair, carding through it like he was playing with silk. His other hand rested on Percy's waist, holding him in place as the two laid there in a sick silence. He was adorable... but that was probably the fever talking, wasn't it?


The days that followed that moment seemed long and unpleasant. Leon continued to endure nasty coughing fits, oppressing fatigue and weakness, and the worst headaches he's had since he was thirteen. Percy, on the other hand, continued to suffer through the worst of it. Between the vomiting and terrible fevers, Leon couldn't decide which was worse for him. Seeing him like that, he couldn't help but feel guilty. He was the reason he was sick with boronavirus, after all. If he had been more careful, then maybe it wouldn't have ended up that way.

On the bright side, it opened up a lot of opportunities to get closer to his friend. Leon found himself succumbing to every opportunity to bundle up next to Percy, or resuming one of their matches on the Swap, and he couldn't help but get worked up each time. He'd become self-conscious of his own heartbeat, and he much preferred hanging around Percy's side instead of sleeping on the couch all the time.

Eventually, enough time passed to a point where both of them were on their way of making a full recovery, which was pretty remarkable considering neither of them had actually went to the hospital. By the end of their two-three week quarantine, Leon's symptoms had all become mild, if even present at all. He felt about as good as he did when he didn't have Bovid, actually. There was just one problem.

His fever and headache were long gone, so why did he still get so worked up when he was with Percy?

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