Worried, Sick
A/N: I could be writing Sole Memorial (formulating the chapter while I’m at work does not make good production) or any other backlog fic I got, but instead I wanted to write out this ABL headcanon. So... enjoy!
Atta had thought her pacing days were over, at least those ones where she would act like the sky was falling. But things just couldn’t be so easy for her, could they?
No, they couldn’t, and that was why she was pacing to and fro in front of her bedroom, waiting anxiously for word from inside. “I should be in there,” Atta muttered, pausing to touch the leaves, and then go right back to pacing. “But can I really… No, no, I should. What kind of message am I sending by being out here?”
“Trust, for one thing,” Mother piped up, petting Aphie as she could any ordinary day. “Besides, Dr. Flora will need all the concentration she can get.”
Atta stopped and tried to force her wings still, but they still quivered. “But what if something happens and I’m not there?” she asked. “I should be there for my—”
“Trust me, you’ll be the first to know if anything changes.” Mother grasped her hands—Atta hadn’t even noticed her put Aphie down—and squeezed. “Now follow my lead. Breathe in… and out…” She herself took deep breaths to demonstrate, and the familiar guidance began to calm Atta’s nerves. “There we go, that’s my girl. Everything will be fine, I know, and do you know why?”
“Because Dr. Flora’s on the case?” Atta answered almost absently.
“Yes, and what else?”
After a little more consideration, Atta gave her a sheepish smile. “I guess Flik has gotten out of worse scrapes than this.”
“Well, that, but what I’m trying to say is this happens all the time”—Mother affixed her with a firm look—“and you still see plenty of fathers in the colony, don’t you?”
“Right, right.” Another smile, this time nostalgic. “It’s our lot in life.”
“Well, maybe not our lot, but it’s our life,” Mother chuckled.
No one knew why nor how, but there was a strange phenomenon among most bug species that males would fall ill after trying for a child. It varied from bug to bug, some mild and some severe; but it happened without fail. Every couple knew to expect the telltale symptoms of exhaustion that fell in the morning. Even Flik, it seemed, had no choice but to follow that rule.
Exhaustion just might have been an understatement, however. “He just looked so…”
As Atta recalled what happened earlier that morning, what peace she gained began to melt away. She'd woken up to find Flik awfully pale and unmoving, much like he’d been after the night of the colony’s revolution. It was because she’d seen him like this before that she thought she was just having a nightmare, only becoming horrified once she realized she wasn’t dreaming. How else was she supposed to feel, seeing such a jarring change when her consort had been so lively merely hours before?
After that, no amount of fact could phase her. It didn’t matter that this was something almost every ant parent went through at some point. It didn’t matter that there existed fathers in the colony, healthy as could be. It didn’t even matter that Flik had startled awake (though it was hard to tell) at her panicking. All she cared about was getting someone to help, please help, don’t let her lose him!
“I should have known this would happen. Something always happens, it’s Flik,” she muttered, and then she sighed wistfully. “But he’s so good with Dot and the other children, and I wanted—and he also—he said he’d be okay and like an idiot I believed him.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Mother began softly, understanding, “your father was much the same way when we agreed to have you, and didn’t he turn out fine?”
Atta bit back a retort.
But it seemed her message still rang clear. “I know you’re worried, and don’t you think I don’t understand.” Mother squeezed her hands again, this time a little tighter. “Just follow the doctor’s orders, and that boy will be up and running in no time. In the meantime”—she sent a knowing glance down—“you can go tell the colony the good news.”
“The colony! That’s right, I have to make an announcement!” Then Atta pulled away and groaned when she realized just what she had to explain. “Though I wouldn’t be surprised if they already know. I must have woken everyone up.”
“Maybe our younger members, sure,” chirped Dr. Flora, peeking through the leaf curtains. “But I recall when a certain queen before you screamed so loud we formed an army!”
“Flora,” Mother chided and sent her a halfhearted warning look, “I trust you have some words to ease your queen.”
“Oh, yes.” Dr. Flora stepped aside and allowed her nurses to leave. “You can come inside, now. We’ll be back later to check on him, but he’s stable.” She giggled knowingly. “I should go make sure Thorny hasn’t keeled over by now.” Another giggle, and then she was on her way. “Congratulations, Your Majesty!” Almost immediately after, nearby passing ants followed with their own greetings and congratulations—some had noticeably stiff edges to them.
Atta groaned again and would have hid her quickly heating face if not for her growing desire to return to Flik’s side. Straightening up, she marched through the leaves, ready to face whatever sight lay within.
And once she did, her anxiousness fell away.
Flik was nearly fully hidden under the petals save for his hands, which had bunched some of the petals against his face in a clear display of embarrassment. Sickly pale as he was, he was still very much alive. Even his groans were more akin to awkwardness than pain.
Atta sat at the edge of the flower, soon torn between taking a hand or crossing her arms. The first option won out. “You scared me to death, you know,” she scolded him.
Flik startled and lowered the petal hiding him. “A-Atta, hey!” He flashed her a smile; tired in his current state, but still oddly charming. “W-what brings you here?”
“To our room?” Atta said, raising a brow.
“Oh, of course! Ours. We’re…” He brought the petal back up a little, but he looked more thoughtful now. “So, we’re actually having a…”
“We are.” Atta gave Flik’s hand a small squeeze. “Hard to believe.”
“Yeah…” Oh, he’s got stars in his eyes now. “A little tyke of our own. Who’da thought?”
“You hadn’t?”
“It was more of a fantasy to me.”
It was certainly more than Atta ever thought, but she kept that to herself. “Tell me about this fantasy,” she said instead. “Maybe… any names?”
“I have, actually, though it’s been a while since I thought of them,” Flik confessed. “Let’s see… I guess, for our first girl, I’d always liked—”
Before he could finish, the leaves forcefully parted. The pair turned their eyes to see a buzzing and lilac blur making a beeline to the bed.
Thankfully, for all her obvious worry, Dot refrained from barreling into her brother-in-law. “Flik! You okay?!” she cried. “I heard you got really sick, but I was stuck in Blueberry Scouts and had to stay until we were done!”
“Aw, I’m fine, kiddo,” Flik chuckled and patted her head. “Just need a little rest, that’s all.”
“What happened? You were fine yesterday.”
“Uh—well…” Flik tried to laugh the awkwardness away. “Atta and I were working on a special project, and I may have overexerted myself?” He sent her an apologetic glance.
Dot glanced at her sister, frowned suspiciously, and set her attention back to Flik. “But how come Atta’s okay?”
The apologetic glance returned with a plea for help.
And thus began a long and hopefully friendly explanation for the coming of a new member of the family.
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A/N: Hope you enjoyed! And yes, my headcanon that I wanted to write out is that bug fathers get sick instead of outright dying. ( -v-)
This can go either two ways: a general sick story with no stakes, or something that leads Atta (and maybe also Dot) on a small quest to get some medicine that happened to run out.
P.S. If there’s interest, I may write more snips involving the likely OC that would come out of this. Got a name picked out and everything!
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