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[ He does follow along, if a little stubbornly, resting against the doorframe for a moment. ]

It doesn't. The people here can hardly be expected to recover with just a mouthful of gruel...

[ It's frustrating. It's easier to fight something concrete, a man or a monster, but a plague is so formless that it's easy to be stuck paddling in place.

Anyway, before he can say anymore metaplot conjecture, he falls off the modest little porch and lands in the dirt. ]

[ Claude hadn't taken it personally when Dimitri pushed his hand away, but he doesn't make any effort to reach out again as they leave the house. He knows that men hold their pride in high esteem after all, and it could be especially important to the chivalrous knights of Faerghus to never burden others or show weakness.

So he continues on, letting Dimitri think that he's infallible.

... Until it becomes very apparent that he is not. ]

D— [ He turns his head when he hears the pomf of someone hitting the ground, doing a double take when he sees that Dimitri's collapsed. ] Dimitri?!

[ Closing the distance between them so that he can kneel at his side, he takes hold of Dimitri's arm to help him up. ]

You're not looking good, my friend.

[ It would be nice if he were invincible, and if he were immune to trifle things like illness. But he is not, and it's only after several days here that he has to admit to himself that he's under the weather. Mostly because he's faceplanted into the dirt.

Claude had to help carry a bear here, and now he has to help carry an idiot back. ]

I... think I feel worse than I look.

[ Not point in posturing anymore. He groans as he pushes himself back up to his feet, suddenly feverish. ]

Apologies, Claude—I should be all right. [ he is going to pitch forward again in 2 seconds if claude lets him go ]

I'm sure you will.

[ Because what else is he supposed to say? That Dimitri could very well have caught the illness that seems to be halving the population of this town, for which they currently don't have a cure or solution?

He'd never really considered the possibility of them actually dying on this train.

But he's taking several leaps ahead. For the moment, he focuses on what he can do for Dimitri now, and that is winding an arm around his torso so that he can do his best to heft Dimitri up onto his legs. ]

But why don't you leave things to me for a bit?

[ Though it becomes apparent enough that Dimitri's legs are doing him no favours, so with one arm around his back, he hooks the other behind his knees so that he can lift him up. It's... a strain, but he thinks he can manage. ]

[ Well, one second he's being supported up, and the next second, his feet have left the ground. The sudden lurch catches him by surprise, but he doesn't have much energy for floundering about or lashing out. He does turn his head, trying to shoot Claude a wide-eyed look. ]

Um, Claude.

[ Is he really going to be able to do this. Not to insult Claude's ability, but raw, brute strength never seemed like his strong suit, and Dimitri is heavier than he might look.

Also, it's a little weird. ]

I appreciate it, but are you... quite sure about this?

[ Dimitri is heavier than he looks, and Claude's sure that the armour he insists on wearing doesn't help. Still, Claude isn't as dainty as he looks either. ]

Doubting my abilities, your Highness? I think you should spend more time worrying after yourself.

[ And he means that. Sure, it's not the most comfortable position for him, but he keeps a steady hold on Dimitri as he sets off toward the little apartment Dimitri's device had fashioned for them. It gets harder the further he walks, his banter eventually dying off as he clenches his jaw to keep from breathing too heavily in the hopes that Dimitri doesn't notice the strain his weight is taking on him. If he's lucky, Dimitri will be too out of it to even notice.

The way that his arms eventually go rigid save the occasional tremor, his steps stiffer. He briefly entertains the thought of letting Dimitri walk the rest of the way, but his pride keeps him from giving up.

Eventually, he's slumping against the door of their tiny accommodations, struggling inside and doing his best to collapse gracefully against the closest horizontal surface.

He just needs a minute. ]

[ Their walk back to their arrangements proceeds in silence, with Dimitri mostly zoning out and turning into dead weight once it's clear that Claude can support him (though not without some struggle, sorry, Claude). On the bright side, Dimitri does not notice his faltering at all.

Mostly on account of the fact that he also flops over weightlessly as soon as Claude collapses, landing face-first in the small, mildly uncomfortable mattress.

For a while, he just rests there, before he responds, voice muffled by the covers. ]

Thank you, Claude.

[ He lies there motionlessly. After a long moment, gravely, ]

I am... unwell.

[ Despite everything, Claude snorts at that, pushing himself up on (only SLIGHTLY) shaky arms as he takes in Dimitri's prone form.

He's more worried than he shows, given that he's not a healer in any capacity, and the fact that he knows so little about the illness in this town. Only that it appeared one day, there doesn't seem to be a cure, and it results in death, every time.

There's been plenty of trials and tribulations on this train so far, but they've been able to move from one car to the next, clutching at the myth of progression, and solidifying the narrative that they're just travellers here in the end. They appear, do their jobs and move on, and eventually, they'll reach the end and head home. ]

I can see that. [ He pats Dimitri's shoulder, pushing him so that he's lying on his back. ] But don't worry, I've nursed plenty of ailments.

[ Self-induced schemes gone wrong, but he projects confidence for Dimitri's sake.

And a little for his own. He doesn't quite want to face the very real possibility that Dimitri could be seriously ill. It's... scary.

So instead he wanders over to the next room, grabbing a hand towel and wetting it before returning to place it on Dimitri's forehead. ]

Carrying Turner must've really taken it out of you.