Title: Dead Cold
Fandom: Bartimaeus
Rating: PG
Length: 565 words
Content notes: —
Author notes: —
Summary: While Kitty sleeps, Nathaniel catastrophises.

"You're hogging the covers," Nathaniel complains as shivers run down his spine. A dull prickling of needles he's still not used to.

It's just that... he can't get warm. Not after the showdown with Nouda. Never after that.

He's not entirely sure what happened that day, but he thinks there is enough evidence to wonder if he did die. And, if he did die, Bartimaeus is the one at fault for his current state of being alive.

It's just that there is something wrong with him.

There is something very very wrong with him.

He doesn't feel the warmth. Most days he feels like a corpse. His skin feels thin and temporary. It's not pleasant in any shape or form.

To put it quite blatantly — Nathaniel is dead, only existing in this universe as a shadow of himself.

"M'not," Kitty mumbles from the depths of her blanket mountain, "go back to sleep."

He shivers again and nudges her form with his foot. It too is cold, but he doubts she can feel it through the enormous pile of blankets she's bundled herself in. It's wildly unfair.

"Come here," Kitty says, and with her voice wrecked with sleep she sounds like one of the more skeevy magicians in Westminster.

Nathaniel wrinkles his nose, but shuffles closer and lets her wrap her blanket covered arms around his waist.

"Oh," she says, blinking awake. "You are cold."

"I did say," he grumbles.

"Yeah, but you say a lot of things."

"I do not," Nathaniel says with a hint of dignified outrage.

Kitty snorts. "You do. Absolute bullshit at least ninety percent of the time."

"Give me some credit. Eighty at worst."

"Alright, alright," she says, presses a tiny kiss to his nose and shuffles again. "Hey, turn over."

"Why?" Nathaniel asks.

"Just 'cause."

"That's not an argument," Nathaniel points out.

"Good thing we're not arguing," she says and nudges his shoulder. Nathaniel heaves a put upon sigh and follows her suggestion.

Kitty shuffles closer, buries her face at his shoulder blades for a moment before pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.

"It's okay, y'know?" she mumbles and this time Nathaniel shivers at the hot breath. "I know you worry, but... you're alive. Isn't that good enough?"

Nathaniel stays quiet for a long time.

Kitty seems to have had enough, because she slides her arm upwards a bit and pokes him in the ribs.

Nathaniel catches her fingers, bringing them upward to press a small kiss on her palm. "I don't know. I don't feel particularly alive."

"Mmh," she says against the back of his neck and he can feel the grin, "that can be fixed."

Nathaniel huffs a laugh despite himself.

She presses her palm against his sternum and Nathaniel lets go of her fingers, lest they be crushed. Kitty's remarkably strong for a woman about a head shorter than him.

"I thought we were sleeping," he reminds her, because he does have to be up early next morning and she's not exactly helping. "Although flattering, I don't believe—"

"Jeez, just get some sleep," Kitty advises and throws the blankets over both of their heads.

"Goodnight," Nathaniel says, just so she could peel away the blankets in outrage and he could breathe again.

"G'night," she mumbles and settles in more comfortably, clearly half-asleep already.

Nathaniel makes sure to tangle his cold feet with hers.