If it would just let her sleep.  Her body wouldn't let her rest at all, the pain in her throbbing head adding a discordant cacophony that kept her awake when the coughing and sore throat didn't. Chopper's sickbay was full and Zoro had carried her out after the little doctor had looked her over. Most of the cots held the other members and Elly had glimpsed Robin stretched limply out, her eyes closed. Sleeping or dead, she envied her in either case.

"So melodramatic," she croaked, shivering. Zoro shifted on the bed, getting up to get another cool compress for her forehead. Of course no one was dead, it was just a virus. But damn, it hurt. Her jaw ached but she turned a little to one side, panting through her mouth to get enough air. "What're you doin'?"

"Shut up," was Zoro's curt reply. He pressed a hand to her mouth and laid a strip of green on her hairline again. He must have torn one of his haramaki apart to make enough rags...she closed her eyes momentarily. "Just sleep."

"I can't," she muttered. "I've tried. It only hurts less while I'm upright."

"Eh." The bed jerked down as he climbed onto it, gently pushing her up a ways then resting his back against the headboard. "Here." He settled himself then pulled her onto his warm chest. She was so hot, he thought worriedly. Elly's face was like an open fire next to his belly as she curled up against him, sighing with sleepy, sickly irritableness.

"You're gonna get sick too, stupid," she slurred.

"I don't get sick." His hand stroked the back of her sweaty neck. He hated seeing her like this. She was usually so full of energy and emotions but the illness had sapped everything she had. She just lay on him, helpless, drifting back and forth between sleep. He frowned to himself as he saw her face contort, pale lavender eyes glazing over. Sleep was a comfort, it healed you. She'd been sick for several days now. Surely she could be tired enough to pass out?

"Zoro," she moaned weakly. "I'm such an ass...I just want to," she groped for the word.

"Sleep."

"Yeah..."

He didn't think; he just kissed the top of her head. She slumped in his arms and he took the strip of cloth away from her burning forehead so he could stroke it, letting his fingers drift downwards with light touches. She mumbled something incoherent and closed her eyes and he stroked the eyelids gently. When he heard her breathing slow down, raspy but restful, he carefully removed his hands from her face.

"Get well, little one," he muttered.