He wasn't feverish, just weak as hell, and his pulse was faster than it should've been while his poor, depleted cardiovascular system tried to get enough oxygen sent around. Apparently Homura had drained him of most of his fucks, too. He didn't seem to have one left to give at being toted around like a little girl's ragdoll anymore. When Bro put him down, he just flopped bonelessly onto his back.

"Mm-hm." Nothing like an affirmative answer to an either-or question. But he pulled one leg up to fumble blindly at his laces, careful enough still to keep his shoe off the covers.

"Jeeves, could the young master see his way to a glass of water."

He got that shoe off, at least. Yay, not being totally useless.