"Jet, you have a fever. In this heat it could kill you. If the medicine doesn't work I need to have the water on hand to keep you fighting off whatever you've got." The fever would get so much worse without water, even the clean but ultimately warm water in the pitcher. He can't keep it cool in this heat.

But even with the desperation tracing the cracks in his voice, Albert can tell that his words have little effect but to set Jet's jaw further. It would be faster just to do it.

With a sigh, Albert takes a swallow from the pitcher. He feels better almost instantly just from the small measure. His tongue feels less cottony and his head clears somewhat and it's all he can do not to drink even more. They don't know how long it will be until they can find more, he can't afford to be greedy.

"Satisfied? Now take the damn pills."