How did it come to this? Was he going to die? Clearly not, as he was still alive enough to feel the pounding headache. He wanted to get something to drink but he didn't want to get out of bed. His body felt like lead and the bed was so comfortable and warm. Elijah had flip flopped between burning and freezing so he was shirtless but buried under a couple of blankets and a quilt. His hair was damp against his scalp and he tried desperately to ignore the light scratching at his door. 

Diane would starve if he brought her inside and she had to survive on any pests that made their way inside. He had simply worked too hard and gotten drenched in a recent sudden downpour. This was his own doing, he knew that. A small part of him wished Rose or Anne would come to give him some porridge, but more so he wanted to get better. A corner of his brain managed to appear through the pounding to worry over the town unraveling without him to help keep the peace. 

He closed his eyes hoping sleep would take him and he could ignore the pain and misery he was in.

He has not seen Elijah Crane all week. Nor heard him in the confessional.

NO! He wasn't supposed to try and recognize people.

It was good. It meant the man hadn't been struggling. Gabriel wanted the man to do well. That was why he wanted to see him again. To help him in his struggles. Like when you tried to put out a fire by throwing oil on it.

When he did not see Mr. Crane in Mass, he decided to go over. If a sheep was wandering, it was his job to search for it, after all. He arrived at the building. It looked a bit worn, but not as bad as some of the slums he had visited. He knocked.

Elijah heard a knock and a sigh of relief came to him. His eye remained closed as he still felt like drifting off. His voice called out though it was a struggle.

"Come in..." He coughed and pulled the blanket up over his face taking a deep tired breath. Maybe Ben sent one of them to check up on him. How thoughtful.

Gabriel stepped in and when he saw Elijah he frowned. He quickly closed the door behind him. "You're sick..." He paced over to the bed. "I'm so sorry to disturb you, Mr. Crane. Can I do anything for you?"

Hearing the voice, his eyes widened to look up at him in shock, perhaps making sure it wasn't simply some trick of the illness. He sat up in surprise but between the sudden movement making his head swim and the embarrassment that he had no shirt on , he fell back to the bed. He pulled the blanket over his head in humiliation. "F-father.. Richards? Thank you for coming.. but I will be fine.. " Perhaps God will be kind and strike me down now so I don't have to live another moment with this humiliation. "Very .. kind of you to come but... you do not want to get sick too.."

Gabriel looked at him surprised. Was he... shirtless? Right, focus. "I visit sick people all the time, Mr. Crane. But of course, I will leave if you want me to. I was just worried when I didn't see you in church."

No! Said too much!

Elijah froze and slowly peaked out over the blanket at him. "You .. noticed I wasn't in church?" He felt touched. He felt something more but pushed that thought out of his head. This was the priest for heaven's sake! He slowly poked his head out and looked up at him smiling weakly. "It... it's very.. kind of you.. to check up on me.. I just.. got.. under the weather.."

Gabriel sat down in a chair. He watched the cat who had come in with him and then turned back to Elijah. "How long have you been sick for? Have you seen a doctor?"

Elijah frowned and looked away almost shamefully. "Just.. two days.. I think? I haven't paid much attention to time. I am just a little sick. I haven't wanted to bother a doctor. I will be alright soon enough, I am sure... " He certainly did find it worrying he honestly wasn't sure if it had been just two days or three. He looked over at him. "What day is it? Thursday?" If it had been two it would have been Wednesday, of course if the man told him Friday he would be very startled and concerned.

"Sunday." Gabriel answered, frown getting deeper. He put his hand on the man's forehead.