His hand lowers to his side again. His fists clench. He doesn't believe her when she laughs. No, she can try to hide it if she wants, but that she can say things like that to him is only more proof that he's not the one who can support her. Someone should be with her to keep her safe and keep her smiling, but--

The sneeze clears his head of such thoughts. It's not that it's anything profound. It's just that she made a sound like she's sick, and now he finds himself rising to his feet, all the familiar self-loathing and regret suddenly fenced off in his head behind a more urgent need.

Archer gets to his feet and glances down at her. "Shall I pick you up and put you back in the bed, Master? You'd probably kick and scream, so that's a bad idea. Instead I'm going to make you tea. I'll be sure to have soup for you tomorrow."