#i barely even have a fever anymore today and the other cold symptoms are also under control so im kinda assuming it's the latter/both | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bokutobaes · 3 years

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inarizaki boys when you have a bad day

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭ .・.

☆-with: atsumu, suna, kita

☆-!warnings!: swearing, parental issues, parents fighting, (there’s nothing physically violent), illness like the flu

☆-a/n: yall these are longgg LOL sorry

☆- author: lu <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭ .・.

☆ atsumu:

-his baby had a bad day :((

-just kidding he didn’t notice at first I’m so sorry nzjsjjsj

-your lockers are nearby so he’s usually waiting for you there first thing in the morning

-you woke up today with a headache and you were just really tired from studying last night :/

-you wanted to suck it up because it was your own fault for leaving the studying until the night before the test you had

-anyways, you were walking up to your locker lowkey trying to avoid eye contact with him

-“hi tsumu :)” u fricken liar with that fake smile

-“morning babe!” atsumu pulled u in for a back hug “i have to get to class kinda early for a test review so i’ll see you at lunch”

-and with that he was pecking your cheek and leaving

-“okay.. kind of good” you thought.. you didn’t wanna worry him or anything so you headed to you first class, math

-hell literally broke loose.. you forgot your pencil case and had to ask like 4 people until you got one which was embarrassing

-AND THEN the teacher called on you for an answer that you didn’t know like the universe

was against you or something

-“uhh... ummm i don’t know..” headass😩

-the class after that was slightly less dehumanizing but it was also japanese class.. the class you had a test in that you just barely studied for

-you did the test and lost braincells, blood sweat and tears LOL

-“okay class these will be graded by lunchtime so please come by to collect your scores before your next class”

-ogey :/ anyways u went to ur next class and before u knew it, it was lunch time.

-a text from atsumu made your phone vibrate while on your way to get your test scores

-“hey babe im actually gonna eat lunch with samu we’re practicing a bit at lunch”

-oh :) ok :) that’s fine :) not like u :) desperately:) need a hug :) right now :)

-“oh okay babe” you text back

-whatever u don’t need him independent queen

-that’s your mindset.. until you get those test scores

-it’s a literal fail .. did not pass the test.. ok..

-“y/n san, these test scores were not your usual best. I’m slightly disappointed, if there’s anything going on please let me know”

-“thank you sensei. i’ll do better next time.

-at this point you were just tying not to cry so you took your test and shouldered your bag and walked to a bench outside for some fresh air.

-right.. you didn’t bring lunch today

-so now you were hungry, tired, defeated, disappointed and lonely :,(

-the last class of your day went by quickly probably because you were zoned out the whole time

-the end of the day came and you were at your locker when your guardian texted you

-“Y/n, you had that test today right? I’m expecting to see the grade when your back home. Didn’t have time to make food tonight so find something to eat on your way home.”

-oh that test ? lol hahaha the one that you failed?! yeah that one haha lol lollll

-so with that, you started your walk home

-“y/n!!”

-fuck. atsumu.

-if you saw him now you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold in your tears and you really didn’t want to cry

-so your solution? pretend you didn’t hear him and walk faster lmfaokdhdh

-but atsumu, being.. well atsumu, decided to just full speed sprint towards you to put his shoulder around you

-“i literally know you heard me. i missed you today sorry about lun- why are you crying ?!!?”

-“bad day” you choked out before a shuddering gasp wracked your chest

-atsumu didn’t say anything he just wrapped you in a tight hug, petting you hair while you cried into his chest

-“its okay babe.. “ :(

-“you wanna come over? we can get food and cuddle”

-you nodded your head taking a shaky breath

-his hand reached out and wiped your tears, brushed your hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead like it was natural to him.

-and so you walked together hand in hand to atsumu’s house where you ate samu’s leftover onigiri and vented to atsumu about the day while you cuddled

-he also gave you a hoodie :,)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭ .・.

☆ suna:

-“living is a chore :|” you thought as the alarm rang through your room ruining your peaceful sleep

-it was raining outside and your mind went back to last night, the screaming match your parents had

-normally you’d be used to it but it felt like they were starting to take the anger they had for each other out on you now

-you tried not to but you started thinking about all the things your mom had yelled to you through the closed door of your bedroom

-“your just like your father. you’re selfish, lazy and all you do is run around with that little boyfriend of yours! what about your family?! you think your better then us? why don’t you move out then since your so good at being independent?!”

-everything she said was always completely blown out of proportion, she lied all the time. it’s exhausting for you

-you started getting ready for school, you wanted to see suna and your friends and laugh and just forget last night even happened

-when you got to school suna was there at your locker scrolling lazily through his phone

-you smiled, genuinely as he looked up and greeted you with a smirk

-“nice hair.”

-“wha-“ you started and then smacked his arm when you realized that your baby hairs were out of sorts “shutup” you scowled

-“good morning” suna hugged you

-“good morning”

-now you were off to class, it always went by too fast, you thought. school was always done in the blink of an eye

-“what’re you doing at lunch?” your friend tapped your shoulder and whispered to you

-“mmm nothing probably why?”

-“let’s eat on the roof today! yui told me there’s gonna be a rainbow cuz it stopped raining.”

-“okay” you smiled

-now at lunch with your friends you ate the bento you had packed before. the rainbow was there and it was beautiful

-you were having fun just laughing with your friends and texting suna while he sent terrible photos of atsumu. things were good, you had forgotten about your mom

-until the end of the day came and you had to go back home

-as usual suna was at his locker waiting so that you could walk home together

-after crossing the street you and suna were at a bike path, trees surrounding the fences

-it was a comfortable silence until...

-“what’s wrong?”

-suna asking took you by surprise, you didn’t think you were acting any different. were you?

-“what are you talking about”

-“you look sad, you did this morning too but then you were fine the rest of the day so I didn’t say anything. but, you look sad again now”

-“oh..”

-so suna just saw right through you

-“ um.. i’m okay.. it’s just ..” you laughed dryly “i don’t really want to go home”

-“did something happen?”

-“yeah.. my parents were fighting, it turned into this whole thing.” you felt a lump in your throat start to form “i don’t really wanna talk about it”

-“okay. you should just come over then, right?”

-“can i?”

-“you literally don’t even have to ask me anymore y/n” suna grabbed your hand and led the way

-when you got there suna hopped on his couch and started putting on something from netflix

-“my parents aren’t home, my sister has a dance thing today” he grabbed a blanket and you sat down, putting your head in his lap

-suna put on a comedy show, of course he would

-he played with your hair while you watched and after an episode or two, he asked

-“do you want to talk about it now?”

-and so you did, you told him what happened last night and what your mom said. your plan was to not cry but that failed miserably

-suna listened intently, he told you the truth, he said that what she said wasn’t true, he told you you could sleepover whenever you needed to.

-kissed you and wrapped you back in the blanket

-“i love you, you know that right? always.”

-he always knew what to say and you loved him for that

-“i love you too, suna”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭ .・.

☆ kita:

-kita knew, first thing he noticed when he saw you that you weren’t okay

-you woke up with a terrible headache, aching body and stomachache

-so this is it? this is hell? ok.

-but the test.. you had a test today. fortunately you had actually studied for weeks because you knew it was important

-mentally? you were ready for that test. physically? you had the spanish influenza

-so you weighed the options and decided you would go to school, take the test and then come back home after.

-the problem with that was that kita would in fact lecture you on all the reasons you should not have come to school

-he was right of course, but you still decided that you would need to avoid him for today

-spoiler alert it did not work

-your test was your third class of the day so you only had to get through 2 classes and you’d leave at lunch perfectly avoiding kita

-this was what you thought while you were at your locker until you closed it and walked directly into kitas chest

-“wow”

-“good morning y/n-chan”

-“morning kita! i have to go or I’ll be late!”

-you ran😭 and you almost got away too but kita grabbed your arm and pulled you to one side of the hallway

-he felt your forehead and both cheeks

-“you have a fever y/n”

-“no I don’t I’m just hot from walking to school”

-he said 😐

-you signed and rested your head on his chest letting your arms dangle

-“why did you come? you look sick”

-“thanks. I have a test.”

-“how do you feel?”

-you told him your symptoms but also that you were leaving right after the test and you could pull through

-he really didn’t want you to overwork yourself but he knew you were set on taking the test

-so he let you go and he made you promise to text him between classes and let him know if you felt any worse

-and off you went

-honestly, you were fine up until halfway through your second class.. then you started feeling really cold and tired even kind of nauseous

-then in the third class your test was put onto your desk and before you knew it your teacher was saying “begin”

-okay. you can do this you thought to yourself. the test was easy enough with how much you studied, you thought about every answer and you tried to finish quick

-but then it was like time cut itself in half and the bell for lunch was ringing

-you weren’t even done the test yet

-“y/n you can stay in here until your done but i expect you to have it finished soon”

-one question left

-you don’t even remember what you ended up putting before you were up and giving the paper to your teacher

-kita was right there when you left the classroom

-“hey ..hey.. y/n”

-you could barely hear him you just flopped into his arms

-“okay I’m taking you home.. “

-“but..”

-“shh let’s go”

-you don’t remember getting there but then you were in your bed smothered in pillows and blankets

-kita came in

-“what time is it?”

-he looked at his phone “half past 4”

-“4?!” you jolted up “did you even go back to school?” “kita?!”

-he smiled at you “no but it’s okay y/n it was only one day. i wanted to take care of you

-you noticed he had a steaming cup of something in his hands

-“what’s that” you asked

-“its tea, but it’s special tea :)”

-“what do you mean” you laughed

-“my grandma showed me how to make it, it’s gonna make you feel a lot better”

-he’s so cute...

-“kita... you didn’t have to do all this”

-“i wanted to” he sits beside you and hands you the tea

-literally tasted like heaven

-“mmmmm oh my god”

-kita laughed and kissed you on the cheek before joining you in the bed

-you cuddled and watched movies on your laptop until you fell asleep, comfortable in your boyfriends arms

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cuddlepilefics · 3 years

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10. Christmas Shopping

@yooniestummy because we all stan Hyunjin’s long hair....

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Hyunjin

Caregiver: Chan and Jisung

Hyunjin‘s POV.:

I woke up hot and sweaty this morning, my sheets stuck to my back and my head started pounding when I sat up. For some reason, I was the last to wake up. We had no official schedule for today so we had planned to go Christmas shopping as a group. I already had most of my presents wrapped and hidden underneath my bed but I still had to find something for Minho and Jeongin. Joining my group for breakfast, I decided to just have some fruit as I didn‘t really have an appetite but knew I couldn‘t just skip breakfast. My members were discussing loudly which stores they wanted to visit but I didn‘t really care because I didn‘t even have an idea what I wanted to buy. I was only planning to look around and wait for something to catch my eye. Watching the others get overly excited for their shopping trip, I put my plate in the sink and went to get ready. Somehow the excitement failed to grasp me as it usually did and I would have preferred to stay home but I couldn‘t let them down in the last minute just because I wasn‘t in the mood. I must have been deep in thought while brushing my teeth because I hit a spot too far back which made me gag, startling me. I tried to bring my focus back to what I was doing but my brain was fuzzy and I kept losing my trains of thought. I walked back to my room and picked out some very thick and warm clothes. In contrast to how I woke up, I felt freezing now and the goosebumps just didn‘t go away. I shivered as I took my pajama off and tried to get my jeans and hoodie on as fast as possible. While I pulled the hoodie over my head, a dizzy spell hit me, forcing me to sit down on my bed as I waited for the ringing in my ears to pass.

Dressed in a few more layers then originally planned, I met my members at the door ready to head out. Chan had called for a driver that‘d take us to the mall and we all piled into the vehicle. The ride seemed to take forever and I rested my aching head against the window. The headache I had woken up with only seemed to be getting worse and I was glad I hadn‘t tied up my hair as the pull of an elastic would only increase the pain. I must have been too quiet because I felt a nudge against my knee, looking up to meet Seungmin‘s smile. Smiling back quietly, I opted for resting my head on his shoulder instead of the window. “Everything ok?“, he whispered, running a hand through my long hair. “Mhm, just not completely awake yet and my head hurts a bit“, I hummed, leaning further into him as he kept petting my hair. I didn‘t remember the route to the mall to be this curvy but I soon needed to pick up my head from Seungmin‘s shoulder to look out of the window in an attempt to keep my stomach in place. Usually I didn‘t get motion sick but I guess combined with the headache, the streets didn‘t do me well. Seungmin watched me confused but I reassured him with a smile that everything was fine.

It wasn‘t, however. I had expected for the nausea to fade after leaving the car and for a while it did. Not fully though, instead it settled into a dull, constant ache. We were walking around together and I really only tagged along, following my members wherever they wanted to go. I was to tired to object and with the pain in my head and stomach, I also didn‘t want to go anywhere but home. Of course, I didn‘t speak up though. We haven‘t even been here that long and everyone had been looking forward to this trip, so who was I to kill the mood. Not being able to agree on which stores to visit, we soon split up into smaller groups, me joining Chan and Jisung. They mostly wanted to visit different music stores and I didn‘t mind. Replying that I didn‘t care every time they asked me where I wanted to go, the two kept exchanging suspicious glances, not commenting though. I was practically asleep on my feet and it took Chan three attempts at calling my name to catch my attention. “Sorry, kinda spaced out“, I replied, scratching my head awkwardly. “You‘re acting weirder than usual and already have all morning“, Jisung frowned, trying to cover his concern with a tease. Chan agreed and seeing the sympathetic look on his face, I couldn‘t keep quiet anymore. “Sorry, I woke up with a bit of a headache and it only got worse. Now my stomach also started hurting and I feel weird“, I mumbled, trying to keep of crying as admitting to my symptoms only made me notice them more. Chan frowned and guided me to sit on a bench nearby. Jisung sat down next to me wrapping his arms around me comfortingly as I broke into tears. “I-I didn‘t w-want to ruin t-this trip because everyone was l-looking forward to it s-so much and n-now I did a-anyways“, I hiccuped, bringing my hands up to my face to wipe the tears that just wouldn‘t stop falling. “You didn‘t ruin anything, you really could‘ve told us you weren‘t feeling alright and you could‘ve stayed home“, Chan sighed as Jisung handed me a tissue. “Wasn‘t s-so bad earlier“, I whimpered almost too quiet to be heard. Crouching in front of me, Chan squeezed my knee and promised he‘d go get some water, while Jisung would sit with me.

Jisung‘s POV.:

While Chan left, I kept Hyunjin company, trying to calm him down a bit. I knew the tears were not only from guilt and embarrassment. The pain must have been worse than he let on and finally taking in the full sight in front of me, I noticed the dark circles under the dancer‘s eyes, that stood out against his pale complexion which he tried to hide behind a mask. “How about we take this off for a while? Maybe the fresh air will help your head“, I hummed, removing the mask dampened with tears. He had stopped crying and was really quiet now. I figured he had just calmed down and was tired till he wrapped his arms around his stomach whimpering. “I d-don‘t feel so good“, he moaned, scooting closer to the side of the bench where there was a trash can beside it. His face had paled even more and I could only guess what‘d happen next. I just wished Chan would hurry. Scooting closer to the dancer, I rubbed his back soothingly, applying enough pressure so he‘d feel it through his thick coat, and instructing him to take deep breaths through his nose. However, it didn‘t solve the problem and only delayed the inevitable. With barely any warning, the thin boy bend over the trash can, immediately bringing up part of his breakfast. I quickly recovered from my shock and pulled his long, blonde hair out of his face, gathering it at the back of his head. With one hand I kept holding on to his hair, using the other to rub his back, while telling him he‘d be ok and all of this would be over soon.

After a shaky inhale, which triggered a dry gag, his breathing hitched and soon turned into quiet sobs. “You‘re really not feeling well, hm?“, I hummed rhetorically and he shook his head, retching hard afterwards. So hard that a few strands of hair escaped my grip. Luckily nothing came up and I quickly tucked the strands back again. Trying to hold his hair securely yet not tight enough to worsen his headache, I let my hand follow his head as he coughed, triggering another rush of semi-digested food to pass his lips. The guy barely got a breath in before his body convulsed again, sending him to choke on his stomach contents. I panicked a bit, using my free hand to pat him between the shoulderblades rather harshly till he was able to stop coughing and catch his breath again. Not having had much for breakfast, he was soon reduced to dry heaves and I was glad to see Chan rounding the corner. Seeing our position next to the trash can, the leader quickened his pace, jogging over to us.

At this point, Hyunjin had slumped over, hugging his stomach and accepting the fact that nothing else would come up. His cries had turned into weak sniffles and I gently pulled him back to lean against me. Chan quickly uncapped the bottle of water he had bought, holding it out to the dancer who mainly just rinsed his mouth, handing it back after one tentative sip. The strain of throwing up had wiped all of his energy and he was dozing off on my shoulder. “Hyung, could you call us a driver to bring us home while I text the others? They can just call a driver later when they are done, while we take the sickie over here home“, I asked, running a hand through Hyunjin‘s hair. “You don‘t have to come home with me. I‘m ok, I can go back alone. I don‘t want you to be forced home early just because I have a tummy ache“, said sickie mumbled pitifully, keeping his eyes closed. “Jinnie, it‘s not just a tummy ache, you threw up, your head hurts and with how you‘re sweating I bet you have a fever too. Besides, I absolutely don‘t mind going back to the dorm with you. I can easily do the rest of my shopping another time“, I assured, watching Chan talk on his phone. “A driver will be here soon. How are you holding up Jinnie?“, the leader asked, pressing the back of his fingers against the younger‘s forehead. “Still don‘t feel too great“, he whined. “Mhm, you have a fever too, so it‘s probably some kind of stomach bug. Let‘s just get you home and to bed“, the leader sighed, earning a defeated nod.

By the time we got into the car, Hyunjin was shivering violently. With chattering teeth he complained how cold he felt and I felt my heart break. Despite worrying about raising his fever, I took off my coat, covering him and tucking it into his seatbelt so it wouldn‘t slip. “Jinnie, if you feel sick during the drive use this, ok?“, Chan instructed, pressing a plastic shopping bag into the dancer‘s hand before buckling himself up. With the chills subsiding in the warmth of the car, the young idol was quickly knocked out, sleeping through the entire ride without incidents. Waking up slowly as I unbuckled his seatbelt, Hyunjin let Chan carry him from the garage to the dorm, I had gone ahead to unlock the door for them. The leader put him to the ground in the hallway so the dancer could kick off his shoes and shrug out of his coat with Chan and me holding him by the shoulders so he wouldn’t fall over. Barely pulling his arms from the coat, he suddenly tore free from our grip, rushing to the bathroom, almost tripping himself on the way there. Quick to remove his shoes, Chan ran after him while I hung up our coats and grabbed a water bottle from the kitchen.

Chan’s POV.:

I found my dongsaeng kneeling in front of the toilet, head resting on his crossed arms over the empty bowl. Apparently, nothing had come up so far. With his hair falling into his face, I struggled to see whether he was crying. Not liking the way his hair was dangling into the bowl, I quickly pulled an elastic from the bathroom cabinet, tying it up messily as I have no experience with long hair. I was done just in time for the dancer to dip his head down with a harsh retch, only bringing up a thin trickle of stomach acid. I knelt behind him, rubbing his back as he fought to bring something up despite being empty from his session earlier. Soon it was hard to tell sob and gag apart, only interrupted by whimpers of pain. Jisung had joined us at some point. He had brought a water bottle and wet a small towel under the tap which he spread across Hyunjin’s neck, before sitting on the bathtub next to the sick idol.

Getting a break from gagging for a while the dancer collapsed back against me, tears of pain, sickness and physical strain streaming down his face while he clutched his head. “Jinnie, is the hairtie making your headache worse?”, I asked, while Jisung moved the damp towel to dab away the sweat and tears. “If you think you’re done we can remove it”, I hushed, already fiddling with the elastic before getting a shaky reply: “N-Not sure, f-for now m-maybe…” That was enough of an answer for me to fully pull the elastic from his hair, running my fingers trough it to smooth it out.

Uncapping the water bottle, Jisung let the other rinse his mouth a few times before encouraging him to at least have a few sips. “Jinnie, you’ll get dehydrated”, I sighed, resulting in a whimper from my dongsaeng: “Hyung, I-I don’t want to throw up again.” – “Hey, if this is a stomach bug, you most likely will and if you have something in you, it at least won’t hurt as much”, Jisung hushed, adding: “I know it sucks.” When the dancer whined, raising the bottle to his lips again because he knew it was true.

We had been sitting there for a while, waiting for Hyunjin’s stomach to settle enough for him to move. I was just about to offer helping him to bed when the sickie threw himself over the bowl again, expelling the little water he had had before. Cursing inwardly for removing the hairtie, I quickly combed his hair back with my fingers, holding it there while trying to reduce the pull on his scalp. Luckily, the spell passed soon and Jisung left first to set up a bucket next to the dancer’s bed. I helped my exhausted dongsaeng stand before picking him up and carrying him to his room. Covering him with an additional blanket the quell the chills that had started up again, Jisung sat resting his back against the headboard of Hyunjin’s bed, allowing the ailing boy to rest his head on his thigh. Seeing that Jisung had got it handled, I slipped out of the room to start making some plain rice porridge for later, as it was what I considered safest to eat with stomach troubles.

Noone’s POV.:

Nodding off with his head in Jisung’s lap, Hyunjin fell asleep to the younger playing with his hair. “Rest well, hyung. I don’t want you to hurt anymore”, being the last thing he heard as the exhaustion pulled him under.

#sickfic #sick #emeto #fanfic #skz #stray kids #christmas #hwang hyunjin #bang chan #han jisung

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ladyfawkes · 3 years

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FINALLY!!! AN UPDATE!!! Lol. Nice long one, too. Post-Cassandra's Revenge AU. Grievous injuries occur to more than one character during Cassandra's fight for magical dominance. These afflictions won’t become manifest until after they’ve left the Tower, however.

In the aftermath from Cassandra's Revenge at Black Rock Tower, Eugene is trying to use his rare alone time to process all that had happened. Thankfully, he has Lance to keep him grounded with his own irksome ways.

One enormous weight had been lifted and Eugene's psyche was flying because he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Rapunzel reciprocated all of his feelings for her. He also witnessed exactly to what lengths Rapunzel would move heaven and earth to fight for him.

Amongst his euphoria for Rapunzel, however, he must also figure out how to forgive Cassandra for all that she’s done.

Chapter 3 Summary:

Although Eugene had originally explained that he wasn't otherwise affected by his experiences from yesterday at Black Rock Tower, today was proving out much differently.

Eugene had tried valiantly to keep things from Rapunzel in order to save her more grief. Yet he had to quickly make the determination to tell her everything instead, due in large part to Lance’s prodding. Nobody had known it at the time, but Eugene’s affliction symptoms would soon send him spiraling too quickly. Unfortunately for Eugene, he would be caught up within the throes of the fight's aftermath before he could ever tell Rapunzel anything else. Or even confess privately to Lance. He was no longer capable of giving an explanation about anything to anyone.

What, exactly, had happened to him and who was to blame?

CHAPTER THREE MEA CULPA, TUA CULPA, NOSTRA CULPA

Approximately 40 minutes later, Lance, Rapunzel, Varian, and Eugene had sat down for tea. And although Eugene had originally told Rapunzel that the new scars didn’t hurt, the skin around them had definitely become more sensitized overnight. It’s why earlier he had practically jumped out of his skin even at Rapunzel’s lightest of touches. But he didn’t want Rapunzel to worry needlessly and he wasn’t entirely sure if the sensation was real or if he was just in a state of hyper-awareness and imagining things that weren’t there. However, since their confrontation in Eugene’s room, the presumed-healed wounds were even stinging and smarting somewhat, quite unlike before. Again, Eugene wrestled internally with the idea of telling her about what was happening or not. He finally decided that after tea, he should take Rapunzel aside and tell her about this latest development.

During the past several minutes, Eugene had barely touched even a morsel of his hors d'oeuvres, much less anything more substantial. That was not at all characteristic of his notoriously healthy appetite. At the present, he preferred instead to sip absently from the same cup of tea. Before long everyone at the table kept giving him surreptitious double-takes. Certain he must’ve been imagining it, Eugene turned away from the group and laid down his head, pillowing it against his elbow on the table…..and he was still barely touching that teacup.

Moderately taken aback by Eugene’s abrupt change in mood, the rest of them simply let him alone for the time being. Although still a sensitive person, Eugene wasn’t usually quite so moody anymore. In fact, Lance quite liked to tease Eugene about how his once formerly nihilistic professional thief friend had instead become a rather insufferable eternal optimist. The rest of the group wordlessly seemed to agree that whatever was happening would perhaps blow over soon and Eugene would be back to his normal self in no time.

Little did his friends know that at this very moment, Eugene had been additionally and shockingly swept up in the personal hell of biting back against rather sudden and excruciating pain emanating from his core. Red hot burning sensations now simultaneously emanated from and rippled outward from the new impalement scars; they had quickly forged a web of blazing pain over the entire surface of his skin. So rapidly tuned out was he that Eugene became practically oblivious to the world around him. As each corresponding wave of burning sensations caused him more pain, he subsequently had to fight mounting nausea, overheating, and dizziness. What was being fought from within him was now manifesting outwardly upon Eugene’s face, deepening his complexion to an alarming shade of crimson. Something Eugene’s friends hadn’t yet witnessed was him taking on the shocking appearance of one who had been stricken with extreme sunburn -- over the entire surface of his body. After all, Eugene had turned his back and covered his head with his jacket.

Some mysterious internal source of heat had arisen within Eugene, almost as if his body were trying to fight off something particularly nasty and virulent. And although earlier he’d promised to tell Lance and Rapunzel the story behind why he thought he’d received his newest scars, Eugene was currently in no shape to tell them anything, especially now, as he’d fallen silent with the rapid spiking of his internal temperature.

The young man had become so light-headed, overheated, and overburdened with pain that he could hardly think, much less speak intelligibly. Oh lord, it’s so hot, was one of Eugene’s only lucid thoughts.

At this point in time, he was finding it impossible to merely sit at the table without needing to fall sideways off the chair or slump bodily over the table. He was additionally getting so annoyed with all the racket surrounding him...the bits that penetrated his thickened consciousness and brain fog, anyway….why couldn’t the people around the table just stop yelling, already?? Eugene wished they all would just shut the hell up, and stop clanking their silverware on the dishes so loudly. That way, his ears would stop ringing and he’d have a better chance of getting his head to stop pounding a little. Although his back was toward his companions, they noted his non-verbal mounting signs of distress nonetheless. Rapunzel had stood up out of her seat and walked around the table to check on him. She lightly touched his shoulder from behind.

Without any outward indication he’d noticed her, Eugene greatly startled Rapunzel and everyone at the table as he clapped his hands over the ringing in his ears and shot up unsteadily out of his seat. He attempted an announcement to the entire table his intention to leave and take refuge in his bedroom until he felt better. Yet before he could complete any of the words coming out of his mouth, Eugene’s eyes rolled back in his head and he suddenly collapsed like a sack of potatoes. Everyone in the dining hall simultaneously expressed alarm and dismay upon seeing Eugene’s current condition.

‘--Gene!’” was the only panic-stricken syllable that Rapunzel managed to utter in that moment. Before the princess could even fully comprehend what was happening, Eugene’s chin slammed into the edge of the hard wooden table in front of him. The princess sprang into action and managed to catch Eugene before he could cause himself any further injury. Everyone at the table began chattering worriedly at once, wondering how it was that Eugene could go from looking perfectly healthy just minutes ago to outright fainting and turning red as a sunburn victim.

“Lance!” called Rapunzel. Lance made it to Eugene instantly, saying, “On it, dear Princess,” as he took up his friend Eugene’s side opposite Rapunzel and the pair laid the distressed young man on the cool marble floor of the dining hall. Varian had dutifully sprinted from the large hall, having volunteered to go summon the palace surgeon. They needed to see what, if anything, could be done for Eugene. And hopefully even get some insight as to his current condition.

Right now, blood was gushing from a superficial wound in Eugene’s chin where his skin had split open upon making contact with the unyielding table. Rapunzel had ordered one of the kitchen servants to bring her a bowl of cold water and several clean serviettes. This, of course, was done immediately. The princess took one serviette, folded over a corner, dipped it in the clean water, and pressed it against Eugene’s chin wound. It was only then he began to stir a little. He had turned his head enough to dislodge the cloth, which in turn caused Rapunzel to shift and firmly press the cloth back upon the wound.

“That huuuurts,” Eugene whimpered semi-consciously, feebly attempting to push away Rapunzel’s ministering hands with one of his own.

“I’m sure it does,” soothed Rapunzel, running her hand across his fevered brow. She looked up at Lance with deep concern, “He is positively burning up. Could you soak another cloth for me and press it against his forehead, please?”

“Sure thing, Princess,” answered Lance, and did what Rapunzel requested.

That much cold moisture coming into contact with Eugene’s reddened overheated face, however, nearly succeeded in fully rousing the unconscious young man. Their charge soon settled down, however, as Lance restrained one of Eugene’s flailing arms and Rapunzel restrained the other.

“Lance,” Rapunzel queried worriedly, “do you have any idea about what might be causing this curious overheating within him? And do you know anything about those new scars that he hasn’t yet told me?”

“The only thing I know for certain, Princess, is that he received these marks yesterday during the time, ah….Cassandra…..was squeezing him with rocks? -- whatever that meant.” Rapunzel’s eyes grew larger than saucers and Lance couldn’t hold her gaze. “But he did say he….” even Lance was having difficulty finishing the explanation in the same place where Eugene had, though Lance had originally been the one goading his friend into telling the Princess, “....he did say he had literally felt himself get run through in four places whilst being held onto by those rocks.” Rapunzel’s complexion noticeably paled, even in the bright afternoon sunlight of the dining hall.

“No…..please….no…..” she whispered, wilting before Lance’s eyes in spite of her obvious desire to remain strong for Eugene.

“But -- but he also was positively adamant and was almost certain that Cassandra wasn’t the one responsible,” Lance fibbed, not wanting to see Rapunzel’s confidence falter. “And that’s all I know,” he said in a rush, before he could descend any deeper. This little white lie of Eugene being sure it wasn’t Cass felt practically necessary right now.

“Really?” asked Rapunzel hopefully. Suddenly Lance understood why Eugene would do anything to keep Rapunzel from being disappointed or feeling betrayed, especially when it comes to Cassandra. “I wonder why Eugene wanted to keep this from me, though….” she mused to herself.

“The only reason he didn’t tell you is because Eugene knew how worried you would become if you had even one inkling that Cass had actively tried to kill him. His sincerest wish was to keep you from experiencing even more distress.”

Rapunzel looked down at her intended and ran her free hand lovingly through his hair. “And to think, I was upset with him for keeping it secret….I should've known he was merely trying to shield me. Dearest Eugene….what’s happening to you right now? If only I could’ve asked you sooner….” her eyes grew moist and she said to Lance, "he’s forever the protector, even when he’s the one in worse danger, or the one who’s truly suffered --”

“Princess Rapunzel?” An authoritative yet kind voice interrupted her speech as more quickened footsteps echoed across the hall. True to his word, Varian had brought the palace surgeon to assist with Eugene.

“Dr. Eden,” acknowledged Rapunzel, nodding with some relief, “thank you for coming so quickly. While we’re not exactly certain what’s affecting Eugene, we can tell you that the visual symptoms you can see weren’t affecting him as little as an hour ago.”

Lance stood up from his place by Eugene, volunteering the empty spot for Dr. Eden. The doctor quickly knelt down and began examining her patient. “So he’s not sunburned, then?” queried the doctor. “Not at all,” Rapunzel answered.

“And his fever?” continued Eden.

“He showed no signs of it at all until approximately 30 minutes ago, when he laid down his head upon the table during tea.”

“Hmmm,” Dr. Eden’s brows knitted together as she mused to herself. “Does anyone here happen to have a spyglass or other magnifier?”

“I do!” Varian chirped, clearly pleased to be of further assistance. The young teen stepped closer and volunteered his ever-present prism goggles. After Varian showed the doctor how to work the goggles, she asked the nearby servants if the castle had any ice stores in the palace cellars. Unfortunately, they did not and had used up the last of the stores the week prior and had yet to replenish them. It was then that Varian again volunteered. “Uhm, actually, I have an alchemical compound that creates ice from regular water almost instantly,” he said helpfully.

“Can the ice safely touch human skin?”, asked Dr. Eden. Varian answered in the affirmative. “Can you make enough ice to fill an entire washtub with it too?” Dr. Eden continued multi-tasking by asking Varian questions and closely examining the surface of Eugene’s skin up close with the goggles.

Varian made some brief calculations in his head and affirmed that he did indeed have enough ice-making compound for the task at hand.

“All right, then -- retrieve your supplies, Alchemist, and I shall meet up with you again in the bath chamber. My patient is in need of your services too,” said Dr. Eden.

“Yes, ma’am!!” said Varian excitedly, very nearly saluting the doctor as he rushed out of the hall, nearly ploughing into one of the palace servants in his haste. "Whoops! Sorry!!" the teen exclaimed in a hurry.

Then the doctor turned toward the princess and said, “We’ve simply got to bring down Eugene’s temperature as rapidly as possible. Now tell me -- has he perhaps recently been struck by lightning?”

“No!!” Rapunzel answered immediately. But then thought better of it.

“Wait….actually....” The power and energies that she and Cassandra had been wielding yesterday had certainly resembled nothing if not so much as awesome lightning…. And poor Eugene and Varian had been haplessly trapped and caught up right in the center of it all. Oh, how foolish she had been to assume they had all somehow escaped her goddess-like fight with Cassandra completely unscathed…..therefore she nodded despondently toward Dr. Eden.

“Y-yesterday,” Rapunzel’s throat constricted on the word, and a hand flew to her mouth. The princess could no longer speak. That instantaneous tsunami of guilt which built within her over the mere possibility that her actions from yesterday might’ve led to Eugene’s current state of suffering today threatened to overwhelm her.

Lance had just explained to her that Eugene was all but certain that Cassandra wasn’t the one responsible for his newest gnarly scars. Was it possible that’s because Eugene knew that Rapunzel was the one who had given them to him instead, however unwittingly?

#rta #tts #fanfiction AU #tangled fanfiction #cassandras revenge rewrite #eugene fitzherbert #lance strongbow #rapunzel #varian #cassandra #whump #eugene whump

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currantlee · 3 years

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Language: English Rating: Teen and Up Audiences (T) / P12 Warnings: - Fandom: Kingdom Hearts Series: Another 358 Days (Ao3, Tumblr) Genre: Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, some Angst Characters: Xion, Isa, Axel, Naminé, Roxas Relationships: Roxas/Xion, Xion&Isa (background), Axel/Isa (background), Xion&Naminé (background) Words: 5,416 Chapter: 1/1 Beta: CryptidGrimnoir137 and FanficWriter827 (both links to their Ao3 accounts) Notes: I’m currently taking a social media break (even though I kind of interrupted it for RokuShi Week), so if I’m not as responsive to comments as I usually am, please forgive me. I still highly appreciate every single one of them. Written for RokuShi Week 2021, Day 2: Taking Care of Each Other Other Platforms: -

Xion knew sicknesses weren’t an unusual thing at all. In autumn, a cold had been going around at school, and the teachers had kindly asked everyone who showed symptoms to wear masks to prevent it from spreading further, and stay at home if they had a fever or felt too sick to go to school. She had even gotten a taste of it herself already.

But that happened in late autumn, the time of the year when it was normal to get sick. Now, spring was finally coming to Twilight Town. There were green buds that would soon turn into leaves on the trees, and the birds sang so loud that it was getting hard to sleep from time to time. The days were also getting brighter since the sun was rising, and the higher it climbed in the sky, the warmer they got as well. Xion and her friends could even ditch their coats and pullovers in favor of jackets and long-sleeved shirts on occasion, when the weather was very good.

On this Wednesday, the weather was particularly nice. There were barely any clouds on the sky, and the twilight was more radiant than usual. Xion was surprised that Roxas wasn’t up yet. She knew he loved watching the eternal sunset, and he usually didn’t sleep in.

It was a good thing they only had school until lunchtime today. As much as Xion loved going there and learning new things, the weather was far too nice to be stuck inside all day. Maybe she could finally ask Roxas to teach her how to use a skateboard today.

Xion turned away from the window and poured some yoghurt into the cereal she was making herself for breakfast. She might have been a bad cook, but she could handle pouring yoghurt into a bowl. What could possibly go wrong?

“Isa, have you seen the thermometer?”

She turned around in surprise. “Axel?”

It was not that she hadn’t expected him at all – he had to work during their schooltime, so he was supposed to get up around the same time as them. He was a bit early today though. Axel would usually oversleep – seeing him being up in time was a rarity.

“Xion, watch the yoghurt!”, Isa called. “You’re pouring it all over the place!”

“Oh!” He was right. Barely any yoghurt had made it into her cereal bowl. Most of it was spilled over the kitchen counter all around the bowl, and some of it was dripping down onto the floor. “I’m sorry…”

Isa shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, it’s just yoghurt,” he said in a much friendlier tone. “Just make sure to clean it up, okay?”

Sure. She had caused the mess after all… Xion nodded and went to the sink to get a rag.

“And good morning to you too, Lea!”, Isa huffed. “You know, you should really work on a proper sleeping schedule for yourself! You’re either overly tired or you oversleep in the morning!”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Maybe Isa had a bad day at work, Xion thought. He was always complaining more whenever that was the case, albeit never in a cruel way like he had as Saïx. No, whenever Isa complained about something, it was most likely because he was worried, and Xion got the feeling that he was worried about Axel even more than he was worried about them.

“As for the thermometer, it should be in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom,” Isa went on. “Why?”

“Roxas isn’t feeling too well today,” Axel replied. “He’s been keeping me up half the night, I just wanna make sure he doesn’t have a fever too.”

Xion almost dropped her spoon. That sounded serious – was Roxas sick?

“Oh, I see,” Isa nodded. “Shall I call the school and tell them that he is staying at home today?”

“That would be great,” Axel nodded. “Can you call Even too? I don’t want to have to rush calling off work in case he wants me to take Roxas over to Radiant Garden.”

So he was definitely ill… Otherwise they wouldn’t talk about calling Even.

Xion recalled her own sickness involving fever in autumn fairly well. As normal as it was to fall ill from time to time, at least according to Axel and Isa, for Xion it was definitely the worst part about being normal. While staying in bed was somewhat bearable for her, causing her friends such worry wasn’t.

It didn’t help that she had been the first out of all three people inhabiting Replica bodies to fall sick. Axel had called off his work that day in order to take her to Radiant Garden so Even could observe her and make sure there were no complications. Xion usually didn’t mind being hooked up to a computer – not as much as she knew Roxas did anyways – but she had minded being taken to Radiant Garden. Even though she had been asleep for most of the trip, it had been terribly exhausting, and done nothing to speed her recovery up.

She had ended up spending an entire week there. Roxas had called every evening, and Naminé had joined her after a few days due to having caught the very same sickness.

But Roxas… He had never been sick before, at least not this bad. Sure, he had caught one or two colds in winter, but never something that had kept him from going to school. If it was this bad, he wouldn’t be able to go to school. Not that they immediately sent anyone who wasn’t feeling too well home, but a fever was a definite reason to stay at home.

The only time she could remember when Roxas had been off worse… A cold shiver ran down Xion’s back. She bit her lip.

“Are you alright, Xion?” Isa looked genuinely worried. Were her thoughts this obvious?

… Right, her emotionally influenced color changes. She forgot those existed most of the time since the issue wasn’t as pressing as it had been when it first happened anymore. It wasn’t like she was trying to take full control of it after all, it was just a part of who she was. Right now, her freckles or eyes must be lilac.

She sighed in partial defeat. “I’m just worried about Roxas.”

That wasn’t the whole truth. The last time Roxas had been in a truly bad physical state… That had been back in the Organization, when Xion had unintentionally siphoned his strength.

Getting sick was normal, yes, but what if Roxas wasn’t simply sick? What if history was repeating itself?

Xion lowered her head. She didn’t want to leave Roxas – actually, she didn’t want to leave the whole family they had found here in Twilight Town. It might not be a conventional one, actually they were a weird bunch of social outcasts some probably just shook their heads upon seeing, but Xion didn’t care what others thought. Even if it was merely because she didn’t know what actual families were like – to her, this weird bunch of social outcasts was family, no matter what.

But most of all, she didn’t want to leave Roxas. He meant so much to her.

Which was precisely why she would leave regardless, if it meant he would feel better. Sure, he might not be happy about it, and get that sad expression on his face once he heard about it. But he had Axel and Naminé to help him get over it. Oh, and Isa too of course – if Roxas let him that was. While their relationship had somewhat improved steadily, she doubted that he would let Isa help him with anything.

“Why don’t you go and see how bad it is for yourself then?”, Isa asked. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind seeing you.”

‘Because that might make it worse.’

“I still have to clean this up, don’t I?”, Xion lied instead, motioning to the yoghurt on the counter. She was glad that no colorful tell-tale freckles appeared on her skin and her eyes and hair retained their usual color this time. “Besides, I have to prepare for school. Naminé and I still have to go even when Roxas is sick, right?”

“Well, I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t,” Isa responded. He looked skeptical though. Did he notice something? “Are you sure you’re alright, Xion? You seem a bit off.”

She shrugged. “I’m just worried, Isa, that’s all. You’d be worried about Axel too if he was sick, right?”

“You do have a point there,” Isa chuckled. “Although I guess I’d also be a bit stressed out. Lea can be incredibly exhausting when he is sick. Make him a cup of tea and he will almost certainly complain about it being too hot or too cold…”

She could hardly imagine that – it seemed so off that it almost made her giggle.

“Well, I guess I have to make some phonecalls,” Isa said. “You get ready for school, alright?”

Xion sighed as soon as he left the room. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate Isa worrying about her, but she still would rather have talked to someone else about her issues. Isa was a good person, and more often than not Xion was glad that he was around, but she still couldn’t bring herself to trust him completely, and she doubted that she ever would.

She went back to the sink and rinsed the rag.

When it came to this, she couldn’t talk to anyone though. Axel would try to stop her from doing the only thing that would solve the problem – leaving as soon as possible, so she didn’t worsen Roxas’ condition any further. Roxas himself was out of the question for obvious reasons. And Naminé was a great friend and a good listener, who probably wouldn’t try to stop her and keep her plans a secret as well, but Xion didn’t want to upset her too.

Besides, all of them were busy. It would be a good opportunity to slip away without anyone noticing… Then again, she needed to pack some things first, something that would probably not go unnoticed.

They only had school until the sun was in the South today. Sure, they technically had extracurricular activities in the afternoon, like Naminé’s Brightening School Up!-project which aimed to make the school more aesthetically pleasing, but those were completely voluntarily. She could always skip her own Rock Climbing Club.

On top of that the school was a good half-hour-walk away from the apartment. Maybe that was enough to at least slow the process down for now. That way, she could pack her things after school, when both Axel and Naminé were out of house and Isa was asleep. Roxas was in no condition to stop her anyways.

With that plan in mind, Xion walked out of the kitchen and grabbed her rucksack from the dining table in the living room. She needed to leave as soon as possible…

“Good morning, Xion!”

Apparently Naminé was done in the bathroom earlier than usual.

Xion forced a smile on her face and tried to not show her true colors. “Hi Nami!” Hopefully she didn’t notice anything. “Wonderful day outside, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Naminé nodded, giggling a little. “I’m honestly surprised Roxas isn’t up yet.”

So she didn’t know yet… Good, that made things a bit easier for her.

“Did I take too long doing my make up again?”, Naminé asked. “Or are you leaving early?”

Right… She was already holding her rucksack. Xion shook her head. “Don’t worry, you still have some time to eat breakfast and take the tram,” she said. “I just figured I would walk to school today. Make the most of the weather, you know?”

“That’s a good idea!”, Naminé agreed. “I really should have gotten up earlier. Then we could have walked to school together.” She smiled. “Enjoy your walk. See you later?”

“See you later,” Xion nodded.

She felt terrible lying to Naminé like that – she didn’t plan on seeing her later. It was inevitable that Naminé eventually learned about Roxas’ condition, at the latest when he wasn’t in class with her. Therefore Xion had no doubt that the topic would be brought up if they talked, and she wanted to avoid that at any cost. She didn’t know how long she could keep this façade up.

Before she knew it, she had slipped into her favorite pair of shoes and left the house. Of course she took the tram instead of walking like she had told Naminé – the faster she got away the better. She would definitely be at school way too early, but that was fine. Anything was better than hurting Roxas even more.

---

Xion had always been good at avoiding her friends and even hiding from them when she needed too. She had managed that back in the Organization days several times, and she had no problem pulling it off at school, even though there were way more people looking out for her.

And during the breaks, Xion simply stayed at one of the toilets. Fortunately no one asked her about that. And during the lessons, it wasn’t that hard anyways – Naminé, Hayner and Olette were a year above her, and Pence and her both preferred to pay attention in class, so they were too busy to talk.

Well, at least Xion would have preferred to actually listen. On this day, this proved to be impossible however. No matter how often she tried to keep herself together and distract herself by listening to the teacher and taking notes, her mind always wandered off to Roxas. She hoped hadn’t gotten any worse… She should have just left in the morning. Why had she not just left in the morning?

School seemed to last forever on that day, and once the last lesson finally ended, Xion was one of the first students to storm out, not even saying goodbye to anyone like she usually would. She needed to get on the first tram that stopped nearby her house. Maybe she could have asked the teacher to let her leave five minutes earlier than usual so she could have caught an earlier one… Why hadn’t she done that?

The ride home lasted ten minutes, but to Xion it felt so much longer than usual. She was almost sure the tram was late, but several quick glances at her watch revealed that it was perfectly on time. Couldn’t the tram drive just a little bit faster?

Once she finally arrived home, she immediately headed to her room and grabbed the travelling bag Axel and Isa had gotten for her when they had had a sleepover to celebrate Ven’s seventeenth birthday – at least they thought he was turning seventeen since no one really knew his actual age.

Terra, Aqua and him were currently looking for his biological parents on top of searching for Sora in the Realm of Darkness. There was a good chance that Xehanort had simply taken him from them, considering everything else that man had done – Xion’s heart always ached at the thought of a young child being cruelly ripped away from their family. As far as she was aware however, they hadn’t found any leads regarding Ven’s origins yet.

Maybe she could help them. That way, she would at least be with some other friends of hers – even though she knew every look at Ven would hurt, considering just how alike Roxas and him looked.

Xion sighed when she opened her closet. That at least cleared up the question of where to go. Now for the preparations…

She took the neatly folded clothes out in a hurry and stuffed them into the bag without any further regards. Usually, she treated her clothes with a lot more care, but right now she just needed to get as many as she could into the bag, and quickly at that. She didn’t even pay attention at what exactly she was stuffing into the bag – matching clothing was a luxury anyways. All that mattered for now was that it was functional and would last her a few days or weeks. She could care about looking good later, when Roxas was safe.

Once she was done, she left her room and went down the hallway. She tried to be quiet. Roxas needed to rest and she didn’t want to disturb him. Isa was probably sleeping too.

And yet…

Xion hesitated when she was about to pass the door of Roxas’ room. Maybe she should at least take a short look? She hadn’t even gotten to see him in the morning, which meant that yesterday evening would have been the last time she got to see him…

She stopped.

She hadn’t really been paying attention to him then, too caught up in worrying about an upcoming exam. But she wanted to remember his face, with all the details. Would it be too much to at least say goodbye?

… She needed to see him – at least one last time. No matter how selfish that was of her.

With a sigh, Xion opened the door to his room. If she didn’t do this now, she would eventually regret it.

Much to her relief, Roxas seemed to be asleep. That way, he wouldn’t notice that she was about to leave – he would have tried to stop her once he realized that. Xion might have been a fairly good liar and actor, but Roxas could usually see through her with ease. Besides, she hated lying to him in general.

A cable was peeking out from under the wristband he always wore on his left to cover his port up. It connected him to his gummiphone. Xion recalled that after Naminé and her had gotten sick in autumn, Ienzo had programmed an app for their phones to monitor their vital functions when it was necessary, so they didn’t have to go to Radiant Garden every time something was up. All they needed for that was a cable with the appropriate plugs.

Despite this, he looked peaceful.

Roxas often had a rather fitful sleep, he tossed and turned fairly often even when he didn’t have a nightmare. Seeing him resting on his back with the blanket tidily pulled up to his chest was a rare sight.

His hair was a mess. To be fair, Roxas’ hair was always a bit chaotic, but Xion was pretty sure it hadn’t seen a comb yet on this day. The only thing that kept it somewhat in place were his headphones, which he was still wearing. They had a chocolate brown color with some warm grey accents, exactly the colors that suited him, and had two triangles reminiscent of cat ears on top. Xion really liked those on him, she found that he looked cute while wearing them. He must have fallen asleep while listening to some music.

Xion smiled – then, she remembered why she had come.

With a sigh, she sat the traveling bag she had already packed down, trying to be quiet in order to not wake him up.

Walking up to his bedside, she noticed were the bucket next to Roxas’ bed, and the tilted window. Strange – when she had been sick, Isa had told her that leaving the window open while she was in the room wasn’t a good idea. According to him, the drafting could make her cold worse. So why was Roxas’ window tilted then? Maybe because it was warmer outside?

It didn’t matter. She had to leave one way or another, and wondering about tilted windows wasn’t why she was taking this risk.

Xion knelt down at Roxas’ bedside to get a better look at him. She tried to burn the way he looked into her memory, trying to catch as many details as she could.

To her surprise, Roxas wasn’t pale, which she had expected him to be. The contrary, there was a slight, healthy-looking flush on his cheeks. Almost like he wasn’t sick at all. But Xion knew that appearances could lie.

Ven freckled quite quickly when he went outside – ever since the Keybladewar, Xion had never seen him without at least traces of freckles on his face, even after he had spent a considerable amount of time in the Realm of Darkness.

Since Roxas had inherited Ven’s genetic disposition, he was also very prone to freckling in the sun, even though he didn’t have as many as his twin did. The sun in Twilight Town just wasn’t strong enough to give him any. Xion liked how they looked on Roxas when he did have some though. They happened to visit the Land of Departure some weeks ago, and despite Roxas’ religious use of sunscreen, he had gotten quite a few over the course of a single weekend. They were already fading once more, but still clearly visible.

The freckles were on his cheeks, but mainly on his nose. Xion always found Roxas’ nose difficult to describe. It appeared noticeably wider at the bottom than it did at the base, and the tip was a bit chubby, which gave it seem a bit of an upturned look.

His cheekbones had gained slightly more definition over the past months. Xion found it funny how much that changed his face. It made him look… Older, somehow? She was pretty sure there was a better, more flattering word for what she was trying to describe, but she couldn’t think of it.

She wanted to keep looking at him, to wait until he eventually woke up and say goodbye properly, but she knew she couldn’t. Every second she stayed was another second in which she siphoned his strength, one second more in which his state gradually worsened due to her presence. On top of that, she knew Roxas was definitely going to try and stop her from leaving if he was conscious. Time was short – and yet, she couldn’t turn around and leave. She was so selfish…

Maybe she could at least give him something special as a parting gift? That way she didn’t have to feel guilty. She could just leave quietly, without waking him up.

Then again, what would that special something be? She didn’t have the time to get him something, and besides, what would he even like? Despite knowing him all her life, Xion found that question quite difficult to answer.

So she couldn’t even do that.

Xion sighed. “Sorry Roxas,” she whispered and a tear rolled down her cheek. Why was saying goodbye so hard?

In a desperate attempt to give him at least something, Xion leaned forward. This was a gesture she had observed in a movie, and judging by the fact that she had only seen it in a single one so far, she was pretty sure that this was something special. He wouldn’t feel or remember it, but it was the least she could do.

Very gently, Xion pressed her lips onto his forehead. He was less warm than she had imagined – was that good or ba-…

“Xixi?!?”

She shrieked and stumbled back, falling over her bag as she did so.

Roxas had lifted his head and looked at her with wide eyes, obviously startled.

Xion’s heart was racing. She had not expected this – why was he awake? Did she do something wrong by touching his forehead like this?

She lowered her head. “Sorry…”

He pulled his headphones off. “Huh?”

Xion only realized now that he must have been listening to music up until now, which was probably why he hadn’t heard her coming. She must have startled him quite a bit. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “For giving you a scare like that.”

Roxas shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t scare me.”

He leaned over to his nightstand and grabbed his gummiphone. A confused look spread across his face when he checked the screen. “Don’t you have Rock Climbing Club?”

She shrugged. “Thought I’d skip it today. Since you’re sick and all.” That was technically true… Even though she didn’t tell him everything. It felt so wrong, she usually told Roxas everything. They were best friends after all.

“That’s sweet of you,” Roxas smiled, but he looked a bit tired doing so.

“How are you?”, Xion blurted out before she could stop herself.

“It’s not that bad…” He yawned. “I’m just a bit tired. Didn’t really get much sleep last night…”

Great. Now she kept him from sleeping on top of making him sick…

Xion sighed and picked up her traveling bag. “I’ll better be going then,” she announced quietly and turned around. She couldn’t bear looking at him any longer. Funny, since that was why she had entered his room in the first place. Well, at least she got to say goodbye…

“Farewell, Roxas.”

It came out quietly and her voice was shaking, almost like a quiet sob. A tear ran down her cheek, and Xion felt that it was probably just the first of many more to come. She didn’t want to leave him behind – but it was for the best. She didn’t want him to be sick either.

“Xion?

If she didn’t leave now, she would never. Either because she couldn’t or because Roxas would stop her.

“What’s with the traveling bag?” He sounded confused.

Another tear ran down her cheek. “Roxas, I…” How was she going to tell him this? It was going to upset him, she was sure of that… And he was already in a fragile state. She didn’t want to make him feel any worse than he already was. But he deserved an explanation. “I can’t stay.”

“Oh.”

That was not the reaction she had been expecting…

“That’s fine.”

Definitely not the reaction that she had been expecting. Xion felt a sting in her heart – was she not important to him anymore? It was unlikely, but maybe it would be better if that was actually the case, considering they could never see each other again…

“I should probably try to get some sleep anyways.” Roxas yawned audibly. “See you later?”

For a moment, Xion was tempted to respond in the same way she had responded to Naminé earlier, but she just couldn’t do that. Lying to Naminé like that was hard, but lying to Roxas… It was impossible. He was her best friend, and he deserved to know the truth.

“I mean forever.”

And that was it. Now she was crying. She just hoped Roxas wouldn’t notice; she didn’t want to make it any harder for him. Xion noticed a sob wanting to escape her throat, but she tried to suppress it, even though her throat started to hurt terribly from it.

“Xion?”

She sniffed. “It’s for the best,” she told him quietly, and her voice sounded a lot higher than usual. “This is all my fault. If I stay, you’ll just get worse…”

“Xion, what are you talking about?”

She couldn’t answer. The throbbing in her throat hurt too much, and she wanted nothing more than to just run away. Storm through this damn door and leave, so he would get better – even if that meant she could never see him again… But she couldn’t. Her muscles were all tense, and yet she couldn’t even move, not even when she heard him throwing back his blanket to get up and walk up to her.

His warm hand briefly brushed against her arm. “Please,” Roxas asked. He sounded almost desperate. “Talk to me.”

Xion couldn’t hold it back any longer. The sob she had been holding back for so long erupted from her throat, and it didn’t even relieve the pain. The traveling bag slipped from her hand, because she was trembling so hard. She cursed herself for being so weak.

Roxas pulled her into a hug, slowly and very carefully. Xion wasn’t sure whether it was because he wanted to leave her room to decline or him getting weaker. In any way, she lacked the strength to free herself, even though Roxas hugged her much more loosely than he usually did.

… He felt so warm against her back. Warm, but not overly so. Did he even have a fever?

Part of Xion wanted to turn around and melt into the hug he was offering her, but she knew she couldn’t. “I’m making you sick, Roxas.”

More tears were running down her cheeks, and if it hadn’t been for Roxas’ careful hug, Xion was pretty sure that her legs would have given out. How did he even manage to hold her up in his state?

“Xion, how did you get that idea?”

“B-Because…” She sobbed. “Because that’s what happened last time…”

And why should it be any different this time? While they were different people with different origins, they both were different versions of the same person, or at least they were supposed to be.

Last time, Roxas was Sora’s Nobody, his shadow, the empty husk that stayed behind when his Other had lost his heart. He hadn’t been supposed to feel, or develop an identity of his own eventually, and yet he had become his own person within less than a year. And Xion was a Replica, an artificial humanoid, programmed to copy Sora’s abilities and absorb his memories. She had been supposed to become Sora eventually, but instead she had become something else entirely.

“But things aren’t like last time.”

This time, they were both Replicas, or at least inhabiting Replica bodies – something right in between biology and technology. Not quite human, but not machine either. Xion remembered how surprised she had been finding out that they could even get sick.

But most of all, they were their own people.

On top of all of this, there were too many things that didn’t make sense. Roxas didn’t seem weak, just tired and exhausted, which made sense given that he hadn’t been able to sleep half the night. Xion briefly wondered what she had been worried about in the first place.

“My stomach just didn’t tolerate dinner so well I guess.”

They had had curry, Axel and Isa had cooked together last night. Due to Isa’s constant nagging about how important healthy food was, they had decided to do something different and use lentils. It had been tasty, but considering they had never tried those before… Thinking about it, Xion’s own stomach had been rumbling quite a bit at night.

She finally turned around to face him. Her vision was a bit blurry from all the tears, but she was able to make out his face. He really wasn’t pale. His eyes weren’t glassy either. Nothing about his appearance was screaming ‘sick’.

Then again… “Axel said you weren’t well this morning.” So it had to be more than stomach rumbles.

Roxas sighed. “I threw up half the night,” he explained. “That’s why I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh.”

Xion herself had never thrown up herself so far, but she had witnessed Olette doing so in the school’s toilet. She had looked uncomfortable during it, and Xion remembered how unpleasantly it had smelled. Olette had then spent some time at the school’s infirmary, before one of her parents had picked her up and brought her home.

Xion finally returned the hug. “Are you at least feeling a bit better now?”

“Yeah,” Roxas said. He tightened their hug a little. “Still a bit nauseous, but overall, I’m feeling a lot better.”

But what if that was only because she had been in school, away from him?

Xion quickly brushed that thought aside. Even if that was the case, there were plenty of things they could do about it. There was no Replica problem Even and the other scientists hadn’t been able to solve before, so why should this be any different?

It felt like a huge stone fell off her heart – why had she even been worried in the first place?

It was only when they dissolved their hug that she noticed how tired he looked. Xion wasn’t sure whether his eyes were actually smaller than usual or if the dark circles underneath just made them appear that way.

“You should rest some more,” she said. “You look really tired, Roxas.”

Roxas nodded. “I probably should.”

They walked over to Roxas’ bed, and Xion covered him with the sheets. Roxas smiled a bit at that.

“Anything else I can do for you?” If she was already here, she could help him get better.

“Stay with me please?”

Xion smiled. “Of course.” There was nothing she’d rather do.

#Fanfiction #Fanwork #Kingdom Hearts #RokuShi #RXWeek2021 #RokuShi Week 2021 #KH Fanfiction #Roxas #Xion #Axel #Isa #Naminé #Long Post #Currantlee writing #Currantlee completed #Currantlee completed Story #Currantlee completed KH Fanfic

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boleyn-falcon · 4 years

Text

Unlikely Shepard

So here it is! i finally finished the one-shot for @moan-jeutas with the prompt “you’re bleeding” with reluctant caretaker Jane and Joan!

synopsis - Joan is sick and the Ladies in waiting call in a very reluctant Jane Seymour to handle it while they are doing the show for things to just take a bad turn.

Trigger warnings - Vomiting, illness, blood/pus, open wound, skin picking/scratching - tell me if i need to add anymore!

words - 3012

Joan had been insisting that she was fine for about a week, that was clearly a lie. For the past few days she's been running fevers,aching, having headaches, all of those kinds of things but still came to work as if she was right as rain. She was about as “right” as a category five hurricane on a small island. Joan thought if she didn't show up to work they would fire her and everyone would hate her, so she had never missed a day of work. She woke up around 7 as normal, but right as she began to get out of bed a searing pain shot through her abdomen. She was taken aback by this, literally and metaphorically and fell back onto her bed. ‘Shit that's not good’, the pianist thought, she tried to stand once more but all she managed to do was fall face first onto her carpet. All that came out of her was a low grunt and pained “Ow-damnit”. She laid there for a solid five minutes to see if the pain would subdue but it just got worse and worse.

She eventually, but very slowly, made it to the kitchen to see Maria making her morning coffee. She stumbled past her and to the cabinet to grab some ibuprofen but was stopped by the drummer in her tracks. “Are you okay Palomita? You don’t look well, should we call in the-”, Maria was stopped mid sentence by the blonde. “No no! Heh don’t worry, im fine, yep completely okay to work”, right as she finished her sentence another wave of sharp pains hit her like a truck, causing her knees to give out. She hit the tile with a small whisper-like attempt at a shriek that just came out as a pained squeal and wrapped her arms around her torso. Maria was quick to grab her bridal style and get her to the couch with the pain killers and a glass of water.

Right as Joan is settled onto the coach Bessie and Maggie finally decide to come down stairs. “Shit is Joey okay?”, Maggie said worriedly as she picked up her pace and found her way to her friend’s side on the couch. “No, i'll call in and say that me and her need to stay home today”, Maira stopped as she heard a groan to her side, “No i promise i'm fine just-”, “No Joan, your staying whether you like it or not”, Bessie said firmly. Bessie turned and walked into the kitchen as she began to call someone. “Hey Seymour you know how you have a lot of free days saved up?... Yea so do you mind coming over for a day and watching Joan?.. Okay thanks, she was just ill and all, yea text me when you're on your way over”. The rest of the ladies looked to the black haired bassist with confusion, waiting for her to explain. “Jane is going to stop by for the day to take care of Joan while we are at the show”, Bessie said nonchalantly. “Wait”, the drummer started. “ how’d you convince her to do that so easily?”, “Well she owed me one so yea she was hesitant but she didn't really argue it” .

You would think the timid blonde would love the idea of Jane coming over to take care of her right? Well sort of, Joan loved to idea of spending time with Jane, but she doesnt wanna be clingly or say somthing stupid to make Jane hate her. The anxiety bubbling in her stomach only got worse a few minutes later as she heard knocking at the door, she knew exactly who it was. All Joan could really do is curl up in a ball with her blanket over her head like a child hiding from a monster under her bed. She thought if she just imagined Jane wasn't even there it would make things better, she was wrong.

Maggie got up from her friend’s side to answer the door, she only hoped the Queen could help. She opened the door to see the Blonde queen with a duffle bag and an unreadable expression. “Heh heeey Jane, come on in..”, the burnette opened the door more to let her in. Jane immediately went over to the bassist who was sitting on the floor next to the couch. “So what symptoms does she have? Anything like fever or vomiting?”,Bessie got to her feet to get eye to eye with the taller women, “All we really know is that she’s in pain and as pale as an egg shell”, a small groan came from the mound covered in blankets on the couch from being compared to an egg. Jane just tilted her head and gave a confused look to the raven-haired woman. “ Wait wait, so you called me over to skip a day of work to take care of some cramps and her complection?”, Jane asked with an unamused tone,looking over to the pile of pianist on the small couch. Bessie gave a disgruntled look to the queen, “well she’s obviously in pain and needs to be looked after so nothing bad happens and you have the most vacation days… and remember the streetlight Seymour”. Jane gave a defeated look as she set her stuff down on the floor near the coffee table. Maira and Maggie just gave confused glances but decided not to question what ‘the streetlight’ was.

The next few minutes was just the Ladies in Waiting, minus Joan of course, getting ready for the day and Jane setting up the living room for the day. Maggie slyly shuffled into Bessie’s dimly lit room and gave out a small ‘ahem’ noise to signal her presence in the room. The shorter girl turned around and shot her friend a small smile, “Hey Mags what's up? Need a hair tie or something?”. Maggie gave a worried look to her bandmate, “Do you think Joey will be okay? I know Jane will be here and all but I'm still a bit worried..”, the bassist walked forward to put a reassuring hand on the guitarist’s shoulder, “Don’t worry yourself Mag, she’ll be okay, trust me okay?”, Maggie gave a slight nod and a small smile as she left the room to continue changing.

Maria was having her own little bit of worry. She finished her hair and clothes as soon as she could so she could check on her little dove. She knew how Jane and Joan’s relationship was, Jane was cold towards the clingy girl most of the time but she knew there was some part of the queen there that loved the girl dearly, she just had to let it out. The drummer also hoped Joan wouldn’t get too anxious and make herself even sicker and make things worse. She saw it before on Cathrine’s deathbed, the more worried she got, the more her sickness consumed her. She just didn’t want a repeat of what happened all those centuries ago. She quickly walked down the stairs to find Joan still in her small blanket caccoon and Jane in thier pantery. Maria walked over to the pantry where Jane seemed to be searching for something. The curly haired woman reached over and shut the door to the pantry and guided the queen over to the fridie and pulled out a container of soup. The taller woman gave a confused look as she was handed what she was looking for, “It’s broccoli and cheddar, her favorite” Maria then grabbed a lone spoon from the counter and handed it over. “Huh funny, it’s Anne’s favorite too”, Maria cut her off slightly, “Maggie’s too, I guess Anne and her ladies all had a similar taste in soups”. Jane poured the container as the gears in her head started to turn, ‘oh yea Joan was one of Anne’s maids of honor’, she finished warming up the soup and walked into the living room to find the rest of the band waiting. “So”, the Bassist started, “We are off but make sure to take good care of her Seymour, if not you know what will happen”, both women gave a knowing look, still leaving the other two muscians confused as ever.

Maggie bent down to the bundle of blankets and gave it a nudge. A mess of blonde hair popped up from the blankets with a grumpy look that quickly changed as she saw who had disturbed her. “How you feelin’ Joey? Any better?”, Joan only gave a small huff and a sad look back at her friend. Maggie then revealed what she had in her hand to her sick comrade, a teal hoodie with a black guitar on the front. She handed it out towards the sickly girl who quickly grabbed it. “We’ll be back soon, little Roo”, Maggie gave a smile as Joan held the hoodie close with a barely audible ‘thank you’.

The band finally left with a choir of ‘Love you’’s and ‘get better’’s. Jane finally got a chance to sit down and assess the situation. She sat the hot soup bowl down with a napkin and a spoon on the coffee table in front of Joan, ready to get to work. “Okay Joan, how are you feeling? Can you let me feel your temperature so I can see if I need to give you anything for a fever or not?”, Joan anxiously sat up from her blanket cocoon to finally address Jane. She bit her lip shyly as she decided to actually speak to her queen. “W-well I've been having waves of really bad pain in my stomach a-and I’m kinda nauseous, oh yea-yea you can check my temperature”, the pianist gave a worried glance to the older woman as she leaned forward and touched her lips to her forehead. Jane’s head shot back in surprise, “Joan you're practically on fire! You gotta take all of those blankets off, and go change out of those fuzzy pajamas and into a tank top and shorts”. The pale girl got up carefully and slowly made her way up the stairs to her room so she could change.

‘Jeez’ Jane thought, ‘It can't be that bad, I mean colds happen all the time she could have probably handled this herself, yea she completely could’. Jane places all of her cold medicines on the coffee table and walks into the kitchen to find an ice pack to put on the younger girl’s head till her fever let up. Right as she reaches the freezer she hears a large ‘thunk’ come from up stairs. Jane first thought nothing of it till she got back to the living room with a mickey mouse ice pack in hand, realizing Joan has been changing for 8 minutes now. She put the ice pack down and walked up the stairs to Pianist’s room to find the girl sprawled out on the carpet. She had only some navy athletic shorts on and a sports bra with a white tank top a few feet away from her body. As Jane bent down to get the girl up she noticed she had begun shivering like it was below freezing. She quickly scooped the girl up in her arms and speedily got her to the couch to lay her down. Her eyes were half open but also seemed pained. The now concerned caregiver put the small ice pack on the girl’s burning forehead and nodged the girl’s shoulder. “Joan..? can you talk to me at all?”, the sickly girl only gave a small whimper as she closed her eyes and dozed off. The motherly queen was originally very reluctant to help the clingy young girl, but her worsening state made her a lot more concerned for the poor girl’s health. She was slightly glad Joan could get some rest for that would surely help.. Right?

About 3 hours passed and the pale MD was still passed out. Jane had eventually put the soup back in the fridge and started reading a book on her phone, waiting for the girl to wake. The queen finally took a break from her novel and started to give the sick girl a good look to find anymore concerning symptoms she may have when she spotted something odd. She got closer to get a better look to only find a gnarly scab right above the girl’s hip. The area around it was raw and red, with even a hint of green and white showing infection. A lightbulb finally went off in her head, ‘This isn't a normal cold, it's an infection caused by this wound, but how did it happen?’. The older woman was put out of her train out thought by Joan stirring in her sleep. The stirr soon turned into thrashing as her legs started to kick and silent tears streamed down her face. Jane quickly jumped into action, she took the sick musician by the shoulders and shook her. “Wake up Joan! C’mon wake up!”, Joan’s eyes shot open and she started to trash even more to break out of the blonde’s grip. Her hands found their way to her damaged hip and began to scratch relentlessly.

Jane quickly grabbed the girl’s wrists and pinned them above her head, but it was too late. “You’re… bleeding”, the wound on Joan’s hip had been reopened by the scratching and started to bleed and ooze pus. The MD began to sob uncontrollably and hyperventilate. The blonde queen finally let go of Joan’s wrist to grab some antiseptic and large plasters. Before Jane could stop her, Joan got up and attemped to get to the bathroom but collapsed half way there and threw up onto the wooden floor. Jane was extremely overwhelmed, she set the medical supplies down and walked over to joan and tried to sit her upright so she wasn't lying next to her own bile on the floor. She grabbed the napkin in her pocket and cleaned Joan’s mouth, she carried the ill girl over to the toilet in case she needed to get more out. The older blonde quickly walked back to grab the medical supplies so she could clean up the infected wound as soon as she could.

The choked sobs of the pale girl continued until she felt arms wrap around her. “It's okay Little Lamb, you’ll be okay just calm down for me”, Jane’s soft voice made Joan’s sobs slowly diminish and just turned into a silent cry. The pair sat there for a solid ten minutes, all Jane did was whisper comforting words and keep her hold on Joan, making sure she had time to calm down.

The queen carried the MD back to her spot on the couch and handed her Maggie’s jacket to hold while she cleaned up the bile from the floor. When she returned she had a bottle of antiseptic and a towel in her hands. Joan gave a confused and worried look to her caregiver. “Okay Joan can you turn on your side for me sweetheart?”, the pianist hesitantly obliged, Jane put the towel on the couch and Joan’s lower back area and sighed. “This is going to hurt a bit Little Lamb.. I promise it’ll be over soon but i have to do this ..”, the concerned woman poured the antiseptic on the infected gash and Joan let out a heart wrenching shriek that shook the house. The wounded girl squirmed and held tightly onto the teal hoodie in her arms as she tried not move even more than she already was. Jane continued to clean the bloody and pus covered wound to the best of her ability and finished it off with a large plaster.

After a few minutes Jane sat next to the ill girl and put a comforting arm around her,“I know that you probably don’t wanna talk about it but i'll ask anyway, but why Joan? What caused you to do this to yourself?”. Joan shuffled uncomfortably but she figured she might as well tell the queen the truth, she did just clean up her throw up after all, she deserved the truth. “I...I just get so sacred and so anxious, it just happens I guess, it's an outlet of sorts”, Jane gave a concerned glance, “But why are you so scared and anxious? Is something going on Little Lamb?”. The pianist paused but decided to spill her guts, “Everyone hates me i just know it, I’m too helpless and too clingy… and if i can’t do my job right people are gonna hate me even more then they will fire me and then i'll be useless…”. Jane stared silently at the girl next to her for a moment and thought, ‘Had Joan really been suffering this much? Was her coldness making this all worse? This needs to change and it needs to change now’. Jane wrapped Joan in a bear hug as the sick blonde began to silently cry again.

“Joan”, Jane started slowly, “You need to listen, no one hates you, I promise, not any of the queens and especially not your girls. We all love you very much Joan, we care about you so very much, we will always be here for you”, she finished with a soft smile. She held Joan tight and kissed her temple as the ill girl began to calm down. “So how about we watch some movies? Will that help at all Little Lamb?”, Joan nodded and looked up at the queen, “Can we watch Aritocats..?”, Jane nodded and turned on the Tv and put on the movie. They laid back comfortably and started to watch. Joan moved to lay on Jane’s chest and that's how she stayed till her bandmates came home to find her sleeping while Jane continued her book.

“Good job Seymour, thank you”, Bessie whispered as she moved the tired blonde from Jane to her room. The Taller women gave a small smile as she left, thankful that she helped the ill girl when she needed it most.

-----------------------------------------

wow okay I stayed up till 5AM to finish this while also drugged up on adderall and I think it actually turned out kinda good, i mean i still suck at writing but hey what can’ya do? and its my first angsty kinda fic so it prolly sucks more lol

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swhurtcomfort · 5 years

Note

Hey! I love your writing! You're so good at creating the perfect balance of hurt and comfort and how each character properly reacts to being sick/hurt. If your prompt are open, keep going. If they're not, just ignore this bit. Anakin!whump is my absolute favorite, and you do it so well. If I may, can I request a whatever length you desire on Anakin having a high fever in the field (whether it's from sickness or infection is up to you) and Obi-Wan taking care of him

“Do you really think we are getting anywhere with these people, Master?” Anakin asked, slouching back in his saddle. “If they’re really going to join the Republic, they’ll have to send representatives to Coruscant—and they’re gonna find out that the rest of the galaxy is full of big, scary speeders.”

“Jedi do not mock other peoples,” Obi-Wan corrected him. “We have been invited here to negotiate, the least we can do is respect the lands that they hold sacred.”

Anakin sighed petulantly. His guapa craned its head down to snatch a mouthful of the tall weeds and he responded by giving the rein a sharp jerk. The beasts had been lent to them by a local congressman, because aircraft and motorized vehicles were forbidden to cross this particular stretch of moorland.

“All I’m saying is that we could be there by now,” he huffed.

“I know,” Obi-Wan conceded. They were both already saddle-sore from two days’ ride.

“This could’ve taken an hour instead of three days, if it weren’t for the stupid—”

“Padawan.” Obi-Wan shifted in his saddle and looked askance over his shoulder. “What has gotten into you today?”

Anakin ducked his head at the reprimand. Obi-Wan rarely called him that anymore, he was entering his third year as a senior padawan, and would be a knight candidate soon—if Obi-Wan ever decided to recommend him for the trials. But he realized that the way he was acting wasn’t exactly demonstrating his maturity.

“I’m sorry, Master,” Anakin said. “I’m just a little out of sorts.”

“And why is that?”

Anakin shrugged.

Obi-Wan turned around again to raise an eyebrow at him.

“My head just hurts,” he admitted. He pulled his guapa’s nose up from the weeds again.

Obi-Wan nodded in understanding.

“We still have a long way to go,” Obi-Wan said after a pause. He unclipped the canteen from the saddlebag that held his bedroll, and passed it over. “You should stay hydrated so it doesn’t get worse.”

Anakin accepted the canteen and took a drink, thankful that he hadn’t received a lecture.

They rode until the sun was low in the sky, then stopped to let the guapas drink from a small brook. Anakin slid off like a sack of potatoes.

“How’s your headache?” Obi-Wan asked, offering him a hand to steady himself, which he ignored.

“Ugh,” Anakin reported. He got to his feet and wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

“I’m going to stretch my legs for a bit,” Obi-Wan said.

“Whatever.” Anakin sat down to rest against scraggly tree.

Obi-Wan frowned in acknowledgement and left to wander further up the path, coaxing the stiffness from his limbs. When he returned, Anakin was resting his forehead on his knees.

“I found—”

“Could you possibly speak a little quieter?” Anakin groaned. He lifted his face from his knees, and Obi-Wan’s frown deepened. He was quite pale, with fevered blotches high on his cheeks.

“Are you coming down with something?” Obi-Wan asked, whispering for the sake of Anakin’s throbbing head.

Anakin ignored the question.

“There is a decent clearing up ahead,” Obi-Wan continued. “Why don’t we just make camp here?”

“There’s at least another hour of daylight,” said Anakin.

“Even so. We have plenty of time tomorrow to make up for it,” he said. “We should take the opportunity for some extra rest, we’ll need our strength for the last leg of the journey.”

Anakin got the sense that the decision had been made for his benefit, but he was too tired to act indignant. While Obi-Wan untacked the animals and hobbled them so they wouldn’t wander too far from the campsite as they grazed, Anakin just laid out his bedroll and curled up on it. Obi-Wan woke him once he had a fire going for dinner, but Anakin grumbled something about not being hungry and rolled back over.

The morning came too soon. Anakin was shivering in his sleep and clutching at the blankets. Obi-Wan woke him with a hand in his brow.

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan whispered. His suspicion from the night before was confirmed - Anakin was burning up. “Come on, Anakin, we’ve slept in already.”

Anakin made an unhappy sound and pulled the sleeping bag up over his face. “I’m sure you feel dreadful,” Obi-Wan agreed. “But I’m sure you also want to sleep in a real bed tonight. And perhaps when we get to town, we can get some medicine for this flu you seem to be nursing.”

“’s just a headache,” Anakin protested.

“And a raging fever,” Obi-Wan countered. “We can wait a little while, you can eat something and take a painkiller. But then let’s go.” He tugged at the sleeping bag.

“Ow,” Anakin whined, squeezing his eyes shut against the daylight. Then a slightly more panicky, “Owww.”

Obi-Wan’s heart thudded in his chest. “What is it?”

“I can’t turn my head,” Anakin whispered. He inhaled and exhaled quickly “Why can’t I turn my head?”

Obi-Wan crouched down closer to his side. “Are you sure you don’t just have a crick in it from the way you slept? Can you try to straighten it out?”

Anakin moved his chin a fraction, but could go no further. “Ow,” he whimpered as he struggled.

“Alright, stop trying, it’s alright.” It occurred to Obi-Wan that this might be something more serious than a cold or flu.

“Can’t we just stay? Even just half the day?”

Obi-Wan almost said yes. They had enough supplies, certainly. He knew the ride would be a miserable one for Anakin in this state. But the illness had come on so quickly, and without warning. And it seemed like the pain and stiffness were spreading downwards from his head to his shoulders.

“Anakin,” he said apologetically. “I don’t want to be stranded out here if you get worse. I think we may need to get to a medcenter.”

Anakin was frightened—he tried to shield it, but Obi-Wan could tell. Awkwardly he got to his feet, working hard to avoid jostling his stiff neck.

He let Obi-Wan do most of the packing up and saddling the guapas. When he was finished, he handed Anakin the reins to his mount. Anakin took them, and shoved a foot into the stirrup. He tried to swing his other leg over, but his knee gave out beneath him.

“Alright?”

“Yeah,” Anakin grunted as he made another attempt, this one even less successful than the first. “Give me a boost?”

Obi-Wan moved in behind him as Anakin put his foot in the stirrup for the third time. Obi-Wan placed a hand near Anakin’s elbow to steady him.

Anakin nearly kicked Obi-Wan in the face as he swung up onto the animal’s back with a little too much momentum, and barely stopped himself from slipping down off the other side.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Anakin nodded as he swayed and nearly toppled over again. He was holding the reins slack and gripping the saddle with both hands for balance. “I’m trying,” he bit out.

He wasn’t going to manage it. That was clear. Obi-Wan stood silently for a moment, weighing their options.

“Sit tight there, Anakin,” he finally said when he made up his mind. “I’ve got an idea.”

Obi-Wan unloaded Anakin’s share of the gear and baggage from the saddle, and secured it all on the other guapa’s back. Then he brought the reins forward over the animal’s head, and gave them to Anakin to hold.

“Now take your foot out of the stirrup,” he instructed.

He put his own foot where Anakin’s had been and swung up behind him. The saddle was barely big enough for both of them, but at least this way he could keep Anakin from falling off. The guapas nickered to each other uneasily, and Obi-Wan gave the one carrying them an apologetic pat and clucked his tongue at them. Obi-Wan took the other guapa’s reins out of Anakin’s hands so they could lead her along behind.

It was hard, unforgiving terrain, and Anakin couldn’t help but cry out whenever the guapa stepped over a rock or made a jolting movement. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he was imagining things, or if Anakin was getting sicker as the hours plodded by.

“Are you okay?”

Anakin shrugged. He reached for the canteen and took another sip of water. He was still keeping a death grip on the horn of the saddle, and he’d been slouching further and further forward, still holding his shoulders rigid.

“Has your neck loosened up at all?”

“No,” Anakin said softly. “It feels really hot, and stiff.”

Obi-Wan thought privately that this was sounding less and less like the flu. He was grateful he had made the call to keep pressing on towards civilization.

“If you need to lean on me, it’s alright,” Obi-Wan suggested.

Anakin took him up on the offer, and shifted his weight backwards into Obi-Wan. His hands were cold and clammy, but Obi-Wan was pretty sure his fever had gotten higher.

“Your heartbeat is so fast,” Anakin observed from his position with his head resting on Obi-Wan’s chest.

“I’m worried about you,” Obi-Wan admitted.

Anakin’s groans of discomfort grew more and more frequent. Obi-Wan wondered if he was getting delirious. He urged the poor guapas to walk a little faster.

They rode into the town and to a farm belonging to a relative of the congressman’s, where they handed the beasts off to a stablehand. Anakin needed to be lifted off of the guapa’s back. He was drenched in cold sweat.

The local officials had sent a speeder to bring them to the next city over where the negotiations would be taking place, but Obi-Wan directed the driver to the nearest clinic instead. Anakin managed to stumble into the building without losing his feet, but once he was offered a bed he collapsed down onto it gratefully, breathing heavily. Obi-Wan sat with his hands in his sleeves while they waited to be seen.

A doctor pushed past the curtain and immediately began examining Anakin. “When did the symptoms start?” she asked without looking up. She placed the end of her stethoscope beneath the neckline of his tunic, pausing to listen.

“He started complaining of a headache about twenty-four hours ago,” said Obi-Wan softly. “Anakin—?”

Anakin gave the tiniest nod of confirmation. “Around then.”

“It all came on so fast,” Obi-Wan tried to say, but he was cut off.

“But no other flulike symptoms?” the doctor asked, now placing a thermometer in Anakin’s ear. “No cough, congestion, sneezing or anything?”

“No,” Anakin mouthed but no sound accompanied it. His hand found Obi-Wan’s on the railing of the bed.

The doctor called her assistant into the room and rattled off a long, incomprehensible string of orders. The sinking feeling in Obi-Wan’s stomach grew.

“Anakin, we’re going to give you some IV fluids and a mild pain reliever for now, but we need to admit you to the medcenter upstairs and run some tests.”

Anakin was looking too exhausted to advocate for himself, so Obi-Wan stepped in. “What kinds of tests?”

“Are you the legal guardian?” she asked without acknowledging the question. “If you’d be willing to come with me and take care of some of his intake paperwork, they can get started right away.”

Reluctantly Obi-Wan left Anakin in the hands of the assistant and a medical droid. He signed the documents he was given distractedly. “What kind of,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Tests are they doing?”

The doctor met his eyes with a serious frown. “They’re going to draw blood and do some scans of his skull and his spinal cord, and we’re also going to do something called a spinal tap, if you’re familiar with that, to draw a sample of cerebrospinal fluid.”

Obi-Wan heard his own heart pounding erratically in his throat, and remembered Anakin’s comment about it earlier. He swallowed. “So you must think he has meningitis?”

A sharp nod. “We’ll know for sure soon.”

“But…but he’s been vaccinated. I made sure of that, years ago.” Obi-Wan had to make a concentrated effort not to tap his fingers on the desk nervously.

“The vaccine very effective, but only against certain strains of bacteria. A lot of things can cause meningitis. But in healthy young adults, it usually isn’t fatal.”

Obi-Wan got the sense that she intended the statement to be comforting, but it wasn’t in the slightest.

Obi-Wan finished the datapads and followed the doctor to another part of the medcenter where Anakin had been moved. The lights inside were dimmed. The assistant met them at the door, reporting that all had gone well.

“Is he awake?” Obi-Wan interrupted to ask.

“Sure,” the assistant said. “We did the procedure under local anesthetic, just to numb the area on his back.”

“Run those right now,” the doctor said, gesturing to the vials in her hands. “These things progress quickly.”

Anakin was curled up on his side within. Obi-Wan took a seat beside him wordlessly. Anakin blinked at him, but kept the silence. Obi-Wan reached out and freed an unruly lock of hair from beneath the nasal cannula, and tucked it behind Anakin’s ear.

Half an hour later, the doctor returned and announced, “Blood culture and imaging results came back. We’re not going to waste time waiting for the rest; the sooner we start antibiotics, the better chance he’s got.”

“It’s definitely meningitis, then?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Diagnosis is actually meningoencephalitis, which is a fancy way of saying that both the meninges and the brain are inflamed. The spinal tap results will give us a better idea of what bacteria is causing it, but a broad-spectrum antibiotic is better than nothing.”

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered. Anakin didn’t look particularly awake, with his eyes glazed over.

“I’m also going to give him an anticonvulsant, otherwise I’m worried he’s going to seize at this point.”

Obi-Wan looked up at her, startled.

“The first 24 to 48 hours are often critical. That’s why we’re starting treatment now instead of in several hours when he have all the test results. We’re doing everything we can to give him an edge on this thing,” she reassured him.

Obi-Wan nodded, unsure of what to say.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked in a low voice. For a moment Obi-Wan thought he might be regaining some alertness.

“We’re in a medcenter, Anakin.” Obi-Wan took his hand and squeezed it. “You’re very ill.”

Anakin returned the squeeze, but he still looked confused, whimpering deliriously.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan whispered back. “I know.”

The threat that Anakin could seize, or crash, or have a serious complication at any moment hung over Obi-Wan like a dark cloud. It was hard to believe that a day and a half ago, they’d been riding across the moor with no inkling that anything was wrong. He thought of where they would be if he had let Anakin try to sleep it off at their campsite, and he shuddered.

At some point in the night, they switched out Anakin’s antibiotics for a more targeted cocktail for the specific bacteria he was fighting. Anakin alternated between feverish mumbling and sleeping quietly. While he slept, Obi-Wan tried to sleep, but he couldn’t honestly say he caught more than brief snatches of rest.

“Hey,”

Obi-Wan was closing his eyes, resting his chin in his hand while his elbow balanced on the arm of the chair. The hoarse voice startled him.

“Hi,” Obi-Wan replied. Anakin’s eyes were clearer than before.

It was morning already. “Well, you made it through the night,” Obi-Wan remarked. “That’s a good sign.”

Anakin laughed, and Obi-Wan forced a smile. It hadn’t altogether been a joke, but if Anakin didn’t realize how dire the situation had been then there was no need to discuss that right now.

“How are you feeling?”

“Still hurts,” Anakin admitted.

Obi-Wan nodded in sympathy.

“Are we still going to the city?”

“I think you’re going to be laid up here for a few days at least. Don’t worry about it right now, just focus on getting better.”

Anakin nodded. Obi-Wan thought he saw his bottom lip wobble.

“I think they will postpone the membership negotiations until we can be there. If not, I’m sure the Council will send another team,” Obi-Wan continued.

Anakin raised his eyebrows, unguarded surprise replacing the sadness on his face. “You’re not going?”

“No,” said Obi-Wan, as if it should have been obvious.

“You’re going to stay?”

The look on Anakin’s face before suddenly made sense. “Of course,” he promised.

“I mean, I’m almost a knight now, I didn’t know if—”

“Anakin, I’ll always take care of you.” It was a reckless thing to promise, especially for two people in such a dangerous line of work. Obi-Wan promised it anyway. “That will never stop being my job. Of course I’ll stay.”

#anakin #obi-wan #hurt/comfort #fever #illness #@bloodyfeverdreams #dos equis voice: I don't always fill prompts #But when I do they come out 2000 words longer than expected

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aliceslantern · 4 years

Text

Serendipity, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 5

ser·en·dip·i·ty | n -- the occurrence of an unplanned fortunate discovery.

It's all fun and games until someone gets pregnant.

Modern AU, Zemyx, Ienzo is trans and AFAB.

Chapter summary: Ienzo moves into the third trimester. Life changes forever.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

The third trimester was not nearly as pleasant as the second. Ienzo felt heavy, unwieldy, his thought processes muddy and murky. At least the weather was no longer so unbearably hot. He was again exhausted, and it was very difficult to find pregnancy clothing that wasn’t feminine. Naminé thankfully came to the rescue and sewed some things for him.

How odd, to think they had family. Not just the blood or adopted relatives, but the friends, too. Riku was continually surprised to see him. “I keep forgetting,” he said honestly. His partners, Sora and Kairi, were almost more excited about the baby than he was. “Here you are. Going domestic.”

“I’ll certainly have no shortage of babysitters,” Ienzo said drolly. “Sora, if you post that selfie you won’t have a phone anymore. Thank you.”

He was finding it difficult to work normally. Getting up and down off of his high stool at the research desk was something of a chore. Considering how frequently he needed to move around, it was an issue. While he still did love feeling the baby move, especially as the further the pregnancy went the more he could distinctly feel each little limb, he no longer was quite so enamored with this state of being.

One afternoon he was feeling more tired and sluggish than normal. He was trying to fix some kind of issue with his personal computer, one that, were he not pregnant, he could solve within five minutes, but he couldn’t think straight. The frustration actually brought tears to his eyes, and he wasn’t able to blink them back this time. And once the tears started… they didn’t stop.

Demyx found him with his head in his hands on the couch. “Babe?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I feel so slow. So stupid.”

“It’s just the hormones,” he said. “You’re--”

“I know. I know it’s the fucking hormones.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m exhausted.”

“I know.” Demyx handed him a tissue. “Why don’t you lay down? I’ll make some dinner.”

He did… and he drifted. When he woke up he felt nauseous and feverish and there was an awful ache in his back that wouldn’t rub away. He sat up slowly, with the intent of searching these symptoms, only for the nausea to immediately escalate. He barely was able to grab the living room wastebasket in time. It couldn’t be morning sickness--it was far too late for that.

Something was wrong.

Demyx poked his head out of the bathroom. “Ienzo? What’s--oh. Oh, baby.”

The tears were back. Demyx rested a hand on his forehead. “You’re really warm.”

“I don’t feel right.”

“I know.”

Dizzily, he flicked his eyes back to the clock. It was late, too late to see a doctor.

“Could it be a stomach bug?”

“Maybe--” He sniffled. Demyx took the sick from him and handed him a wet paper towel.

“Why don’t you lay back down? We can get you to the doctor in the morning.”

Maybe it was because he was so weak, but he didn’t resist, and dipped in and out of consciousness.

“...thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure who else to call.”

“Of course. It’s been a long time since I practiced medicine, but I think I can manage.”

“He was crying. Ienzo never cries. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“We’ll figure it out.” A cold hand on his face. “Ienzo? Love?”

He blinked. “Dad? What are you--”

“Demyx was worried about you. I am too.”

He tried to sit up, but Even eased him down. He was cold now, trembling. A thermometer was eased into his mouth.

“You’ve got quite a fever,” he said. “What else do you feel? Other than the nausea and vomiting?”

“Something just doesn’t feel right,” he said thickly. “My back… hurts pretty badly.”

Even felt at his back, probing gently near the ribs. Ienzo winced. “Is that where it hurts?”

“Yes.”

“Hm. Well.” It was still pretty dark in here; all Ienzo could see was the curtain of his father’s hair. “Those are your kidneys. Seems a pretty straightforward infection to me.”

“...Kidney infection?” He blinked wearily. “How--”

“Perhaps you confused the frequent urination for mere pregnancy pressure. A normal mistake. Not to mention your immune system currently has a lot to keep up with.”

“But the baby--”

“I’m sure the baby will be fine. I would like to get you to a hospital, though, to be safe.”

In a haze, Ienzo went with them. He was sweating like crazy, foggy and miserable. Even’s diagnosis was correct. They started him on IV antibiotics just to be cautious, and decided to observe him overnight due to the pregnancy. He had trouble getting into a comfortable position to sleep on the small hard bed. The baby seemed to sense his distress, kicking gently. Their heart rate seemed to be normal, judging by the monitors. The on-call OB had told him as much, and they would likely be fine.

He felt guilty. The thing he had the most control over--his body--had failed him. How could he possibly expect to be a good parent if he couldn’t even tell when he was sick ? Again, he felt the tears and covered his mouth.

Demyx, half asleep in the uncomfortable plastic chair, stirred. “Ienzo? Are you in pain?”

“No,” he said. “I just--I didn’t know. How didn’t I know?”

“It’s not your fault.” He came over to the bed.

“How can I possibly protect them when I can’t even protect them from my own body?”

“Babe, you’re spiraling,” he said. “You couldn’t have done anything differently. And you know what? You’re going to be a good dad.”

“How can you know that?”

His gaze was fervent. “Because of how much you care,” he said. “This whole time--even before you thought you were going to stay pregnant, you’ve been on top of it. The way you eat. The way you talk about them. And if it helps? I’m scared too.”

He wiped at his eyes. “You raised your sister.”

“That’s not starting from scratch, though. You and me? I think we can do it.” He kissed Ienzo’s sweaty forehead. “We can’t save them from everything. We just have to do our best.”

He hiccupped. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll try.”

---

The more time passed, the harder it was to go about his daily life. Simple chores like laundry or cleaning took much longer, and he was often short of breath from the baby compressing his lungs. As much as Demyx tried to help, he also knew that Ienzo saw help as patronizing. September and October passed dizzily. Ienzo found himself often unable to sleep; if he were not getting up for the bathroom, he couldn’t get comfortable, or the baby would be moving too much to let him sleep. His nipples, despite there being very little breast tissue after the top surgery, ached, and he learned in his research he could still produce small amounts of milk.

He spent a lot of these hours organizing and reorganizing things in the nursery. Logically, he knew it was nesting, an instinctive process, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He would sit in an old rocking chair--a relic from his childhood--with a pair of earphones around his stomach. As soon as Demyx learned the baby was starting to hear, he created dozens of playlists for them in utero. Truthfully, Ienzo did not mind. Some of these nights Demyx would come get him, coax him back into bed, and rub his back until he finally fell into a hesitant sleep.

Dr. Gainsborough told him he would likely need a C-section; the baby was getting too large to pass through his hips. Privately, Ienzo was relieved. He could deal with surgery. The ordeal of natural birth seemed humiliating. They scheduled this birth for November ninth.

“That’s my lucky number,” Demyx said. “A good sign.”

He had to stop working earlier than he would have liked. Getting through the days was just too exhausting. He settled for doing what he could from home.

A few days before Halloween, he felt it, a thick, heady cramp that made him gasp out loud. But it passed quickly, just being a Braxton-Hicks. It happened a few more times, sporadically. “It’s not as if my body knows the baby is being born surgically,” Ienzo assured a frantic Demyx. “It’s just practice. Lucky me.”

On the holiday itself, however, he woke up with one of those cramps, deeper than before. They must be getting stronger the farther I get, he thought, wincing. Demyx was in class, and was due to work a Halloween concert in the evening. Ienzo had planned on spending the day with a few of his favorite gothic novels, and sleeping when he could.

This all changed when he stood up. He felt it happen, a slight pinch between his legs before the wetness ran down them, releasing a pressure he hadn’t been fully conscious was there. Janice the cat padded over and sniffed at it curiously.

“Oh, no,” Ienzo said. “No, no. You’re early.” It didn’t surprise him; Demyx was notoriously an early riser. “No, kitty, you don’t want to drink that.” As he struggled to clean up both himself and the mess, he was weirdly calm--almost numb.

I’m in labor, he thought, as if thinking it would make him internalize the truth. I’m in labor and I can’t give birth.

He called his doctor first.

“This happens all the time,” she said. “Just get to the hospital when you can. Have someone drive you. You’re in no shape. It’s going to be okay, Ienzo.”

The contractions remained sporadic. The pain was… bracing, but he’d always had a high tolerance and dealt accordingly. As soon as he knew Demyx’s class was out, he called.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes and no,” Ienzo said. “I’m afraid I’m in labor. They’re going to move the c-section up to today. Can you come get me?”

“Can I come--” Ienzo heard him take a shaky breath. “Of course. Of course. Just relax. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He sat on the couch with the small bag he’d packed a few weeks ago. Janice kneaded his stomach gently, purring. “I suppose you know,” he said to the cat. He called his parents and told them as well.

“You were early too,” Even told him. “Your mother--bless her--tried to keep working. She said you liked being kept busy. I thought she was going to give birth right on that lab floor.”

“I’d hoped to--not have to feel this nonsense,” he said, through his teeth.

“Are you sure you want to wait for Demyx? I can take you now.”

“The contractions are still pretty far apart. I want him to be there. He needs to be there.”

He waited.

How odd, it was to be in this state. In several hours this person would be out of him. It would be through with--save the next eighteen years. He contracted. He breathed. He felt the baby’s feet acutely as they moved, steadily, down.

Demyx all but threw the door open. “How are you doing?”

“Believe it or not, I’ve had worse pain,” he said.

Demyx helped him up gently. “When? How?”

“When I was in the fourth grade--” A contraction gripped him, and he needed to wait until it was over to finish the sentence. “I was riding bikes with friends. We were heading down a big hill. I lost control. Cracked my femur. That was far more awful.”

“We should go,” Demyx said. “Careful. Take your time.”

Ienzo was acutely aware that this was the last time it would only be the two of them in the apartment, and he felt an almost thick fear.

It all seemed to be going slowly and quickly at the same time. He was admitted, Even came and worried over him anxiously, the hospital staff prepared the OR in maternity. Before he’d even fully accepted that he was about to give birth, he was being given the spinal block for the procedure and eased down onto the table. “Where are you?” Ienzo asked.

“I’m right here.” He felt Demyx take his hand. The light in here was blinding. A nurse set up the draping that would hide the reality of the surgery from him. “I’ve never been in an operating room before.”

“A good thing,” Dr. Gainsborough said. “Ienzo? You doing okay?”

“Quite--it’s just very bright.”

“Ah--sorry.” She moved a lamp. “Do you want me to tell you what I’m doing?”

“Demyx is squeamish,” he said wearily.

“But you’re the one giving birth,” Demyx said. “Birth. Holy fuck.”

“No,” he said. “No, it’s alright.”

They prepped him gently, chatting happily around him, about the fact that it was a Halloween baby. He felt oddly meditative, very calm. He wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with the anesthetic.

“You might feel some pressure,” Dr. Gainsborough said. “But that’s all you should feel.”

Surely enough, he could feel some tugging. She’s taking them out of me , he thought dazedly.

“There we go,” she said, a smile in her voice. “You’ve got a little girl.”

And then Ienzo heard her cry. It was this that startled him back fully into the present, a surge of endorphins forcing tears to his eyes.

“Everything looks great,” she said.

After a moment--far too short and far too long in the same breath--a wrapped bundle was being brought to his face. Ienzo had to fight the urge to grab her, conscious of the fact that he was quite literally still being operated on. He placed a hand on her, straining to get a good look.

Demyx brought her a little closer. He was crying freely. “Look at her,” she said.

“I see. I see.” His voice was unsteady. “Hi, love. Oh.”

He planted a kiss onto his forehead. “You did it. Thank you.”

#serendipity #ienzo #demyx #zemyx #even (kingdom hearts)#unplanned pregnancy #ienzo is trans

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elisaphoenix13 · 5 years

Note

What if Peter found an animal on the way back from school and just couldn't resist bringing it home but like tried to hide it and fails almost immediately? Thought it'd be cute! Especially in your writing style. (which I can't get over seriously, I spent a whole night reading all of these fics they're my life! 💓💓💓)

A Supreme Pet

Peter, MJ, and Ned step outside and the vigilante groans when they find that it's pouring rain. He had to walk home today and in the pelting rain wasn't exactly his idea of fun.

"I'm sure my mom wouldn't mind giving you a ride home." Ned says.

Peter shakes his head. "It's fine."

"Aren't you supposed to call someone when it's cold out and Happy isn't here?" MJ asks. "Pretty sure you don't want to turn into a spider popsicle again."

"It's just rain. Snow is a completely different story." Peter says with a roll of his eyes.

MJ shrugs. "It was nice knowing you loser. I'll be sure to play a jack-in-the-box at your funeral."

Peter and Ned laugh as the girl walks away once she pulls up her good, and the two boys go their separate ways after doing their handshake. The vigilante had barely turned the corner from his school before he was already soaked through his clothes. He imagined that he must have looked like a drowned rat, and he was beginning to wonder if maybe he should have called someone.

That was until he heard a pitiful mewl and he went searching for the source of the noise in a nearby alley. If it had been anyone else, the sound would have been drowned out by the downpour, but since it was Peter and he had enhanced senses, he was able to hear it easily enough. He was also already soaked so he figured spending a few minutes looking for the poor creature wouldn't make a difference. Peter moves aside a few boxes and grins when he finally reveals a grey tabby kitten shivering between the brick wall of a building and a box he had yet to move.

"Hey buddy. You look how I'm starting to feel." Peter slowly reaches out and smiles when the kitten doesn't dart away or swipe at him, and gently picks it up. "No tags. There's no shelter on the way home either. Normally I'd go out of my way..." The teen shrugs and unzips his hoodie to bundle the kitten within before zipping it back up. "Sorry, it's not dry, but at least you aren't getting pelted anymore."

The tabby mews quietly in response, and Peter continues his walk to the subway, and then eventually the tower. He would probably have to hide the cat from his parents as they would probably make him get rid of it, but it was also possible they would let it stay until the rain let up. Unless Stephen opened a portal to an animal shelter. That was always a possibility.

Tony might drop kick it out of the towers front door like in the cartoons. Although the image was funny, he wouldn't let it happen. Peter would rather go back out into the rain and walk to the nearest shelter. Stephen would raise hell if he tried though. When it came to Peter, he was a parent first, if the teen tried to walk back out in the rain already soaked, he would be a parent and a doctor.

Which was surprisingly worse than Mama Bear.

Peter sighs with relief when he finally makes it to the tower and he steps into the lobby with an apology to the receptionist for the watery mess he makes as he walks to the private elevator. He rides the elevator up to the family floor, thanks whatever god was watching over him that his parents were nowhere to be seen, and darts into his room. He quietly closes the door behind him and unzips his hoodie when he walks into his connecting bathroom and gently sets the kitten on the counter by the sink. It had taken to the subway (and the actual walk) very well, which made things a lot easier for Peter. He'd hate to think how the trip would have gone if the tabby fought the entire way.

"Okay. So far so good...but you gotta stay quiet if you want to stay." The kittens meows and Peter shushes it. "None of that! Let's get you dried off. Stay."

Peter points at the cat as if it will help the creature understand, and slowly backs out of the room to change into some dry clothes. He throws his wet clothes into the tub (he didn't want to ruin the carpet and get yelled at by Tony), and grabs a towel hanging on the rack before carefully drying the kitten. He remembers a hair dryer stored under the sink, pulls it out after tossing the towel to the side (exposing a scraggly looking, and somewhat happier kitten) and turns it on to the lowest setting. He tests pointing it at the tabby and almost laughs out loud when the kitten actually starts to purr at the welcome heat.

"Not much bothers you does it?" The cat stretches out to enjoy the warm air and dry more of its body and Peter jumps when someone knocks on his bedroom door. "Just a second!"

"Pete! Did you walk home?!" Tony's muffled voice filters through.

"Uh...yeah? I'm fine!" Peter sneezes and he curses when his bedroom door opens. Of course his body would tell his father otherwise.

"That sneeze tells me differently. Are you drying your--" Tony stops when he rounds the corner and his attention immediately focuses on the now dry kitten.

Peter sheepishly turns off the hair dryer and puts it away. "There wasn't a shelter on the way home. I would have gone out of my way, but the rain was coming down really hard and I was already soaked--"

The teen is interrupted by Tony resting his forehead against his and he almost crosses his eyes at the sudden close-up. "Jesus kid...you're already running a fever."

"I'm fine!"

"I can get Mama Bear in here and you can tell him that."

Peter grumbles. "No thanks. He just looks at me and knows."

Tony moves back away. "Exactly. Now you and the fuzzball get into bed and warm up."

"I have to find something to feed him first. I'm hungry too!" Peter complains.

"If you can wait, I'll get Barnes up here to make you some soup and have FRIDAY order some cat stuff."

"Stuff?" The teen asks curiously.

"Stuff." Tony confirms and hoists the much happier kitten under one arm and leads his son by his shoulder to his bed with his other hand. "He's kind of cute. If you promise to take care of him, you can keep him."

Peter's head spun for two reasons. One, Tony's reaction to the cat was not at all what he was expecting, and two, he was starting to feel the other symptoms of a cold coming on. Even before the spider bite, whenever he got sick, it wasn't gradual. It came on fast. Now that Peter was a little more relaxed now that he made it home, the effects of walking through a storm was starting to hit him, and hit him hard. He was definitely feeling the fever, he felt sluggish, stuffed up, and his throat started to burn a bit. No doubt the start of a sore throat.

"...really?" Peter asks skeptically.

"Sure. Maybe we'll make him a lab cat when he's older." When Peter scrunches his nose, Tony winces at what he accidently implied. "Not as a test subject. Yeesh. Like an office pet."

Peter sighs with relief. "Oh. Okay. Sounds good then." He crawls into bed and Tony drops his furry burden onto the bed once the teen settles. The kitten happily curls up against Peter and purrs loudly when Tony affectionately scratches it's head.

"I have some work to do so Mom will probably be the one to bring in your soup and the cat stuff."

Peter nods. "Kay...thanks Dad."

"Stay in bed unless--"

"I know. I know."

Unless there's an emergency or if Tony or Stephen give him the okay. The engineer pats the teens head and leaves the bedroom and Peter turns on his tv, asking Karen to put on one of the Star Wars movies. Halfway through the movie, the teen turns his attention to the kitten curled against him and he props himself up to regard the small creature.

"I guess you need a name huh?" The tabby continues to snooze away and Peter smiles. "I could give you a Star wars name but then Dad would never stop griping and moaning." The teen gently scratches behind tiny ears. "Oh I know!" Peter says with a grin. "I'll go Disney instead. Tibbs! You kind of look like a Tibbs anyway."

"Is it sad that I know that comes from A Hundred and One Dalmations?" Stephen asks from Peter's open doorway and the boy laughs.

"Maybe a little? It also means I've succeeded in beating Disney stuff into your head."

"It will just be filed away with seemingly useless music trivia." Stephen drawls as he steps in with a bowl of soup in one hand and a couple bags of cat supplies in the other.

The soup was immediately handed to the teen once he sits up fully, and the bags were dropped onto Peter's desk. The sorcerer uses his magic to set up everything in the teen's room, with the explanation that it would probably be broken or made a mess of by the team if they set up the food and water bowls out in the kitchen, and then gently picks up the kitten who mews at being disturbed from his nap. Peter was pretty sure the tabby forgave Stephen though as soon as he was introduced to food and water because Tibbs practically inhaled the food. Once he finished with his meal, he kept himself entertained with his new ball and Stephen chuckles as he sits next to Peter. The occasional tinkle of Tibbs' ball and Peter's movie being the only things to fill the comfortable silence.

"I think Tibbs is a good idea for you." Stephen says after a couple of minutes.

Peter looks up from his soup. "What do you mean?"

"He might help with your sensory attacks."

"Huh...I never thought of that. I thought you liked when I came to you with those though."

Stephen smiles softly. "Maybe Tibbs can be an emergency anchor if me or Tony aren't here." He takes the empty bowl when Peter finishes his soup and sets it on the nightstand. "Have you gotten any sleep?"

Peter shakes his head. "Wasn't really tired. Just felt crappy."

"What about now?"

"A little now that I ate." The teen admits with a small yawn.

"Is Tibbs going to bother you?" Stephen asks as the tabby races across the floor to chase after his ball.

"Nah. Will he bother you?"

"Are you asking me to stay?"

"Only if the cat won't bother you."

"Move over Spiderling."

Stephen gets into the bed next to the teen and allows the boy to curl up, and turns his attention to the tv once they both get comfortable. Peter was always clingier than usual when he wasn't feeling well so either he or Tony would cuddle up with him until he fell asleep. If it was just a nap, they stayed and just watched tv, worked, or read a book. Stephen decided on tv once he changed the movie, and also kept an eye on the new kitten to make sure it didn't tear anything up or have any accidents. From what little Tony was able to tell him when his husband found him to let him know Peter had gotten sick, the kitten was calm and friendly so it would hopefully be easy to train it.

Stephen started by scruffing Tibbs with his magic and setting him in his litter box when he started to sniff around. He wouldn't let an accident happen on his watch, and especially not when Peter wasn't feeling well.

#tony stark #ironstrange #peter parker #mama bear stephen strange #supremefamily

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penname-artist · 4 years

Text

Shelter

Blade/Nick fluff, deal.

Summary: Acting on the set for CHoPs was a demanding job already. There can't be room for illness. Or, there shouldn't be. That doesn't mean they don't still have to deal with it.

Rating: G

-----

The weather was the same as it usually was in L.A. - smoggy to say the least. It was well-fitted with Nick’s mood that morning though, so points for pathetic fallacy. He’d been trying all day not to let it get to him, that general ache and chill that started to spread even out through his frame even in the sunlight, but he realised he was fighting a losing battle. And his partner was catching on. “You’re sure you’re alright?” Blade leaned over to ask, worry lacing his tone. They were waiting in between scene cuts for another bit, but the smaller helicopter had started to look a little wobbly on his skids. And a bit pale. “I’m..fine.” Nick replied, shaking his front in denial. “Just tired, didn’t sleep well.” Blade knew full-well that was a complete lie. He was the one who never slept, unable to over the audible snoring beside him every night. How he still managed to be an early bird, no one knew. But then again, this morning he hadn’t been. He’d actually slept past his alarm, to the point that Blade had to physically shake him awake. Even then, he’d dragged from the moment he’d gotten up. “You think I’d fall for that?” The older male accused, but not harshly, “C’mon, what’s going on?” “It’s nothing,” Nick said firmly, “I’m just..not feeling it today.” He tried his best then to disguise that wave of vertigo, hoping the other wouldn’t notice, and that it would go away quickly. It didn’t. He’d actually had to move to brace himself against the other chopper when another wave hit, just as hard, causing the floor under him to feel like it was being moved. “Nick?” Blade suddenly asked, worried. He’d just leaned against his partner’s side, eyes shut tight so as not to watch the room go spinning. He hadn’t even realised when Blade had called for the medic, until he felt a pair of tines against his other side. He didn’t protest - he was used to them being all over him usually, and the last few times he had tried to fight ended with a wrench to the helm. “That time of the season.” The medic sighed, tearing off a piece of paper from her clipboard. “Another flu victim I’m guessing. If someone can get him back to the hangars I’ll let the producer know. With good R&R and decent med-taking, he’ll be back on set in less than a week.” They may as well have just stabbed him with a sword. A week?!? “I’ll take care of it.” He heard Blade say, moving off from his partner’s side cautiously. The younger helicopter hadn’t fallen over, so it was a start. He left for a minute to get something, leaving Nick to fend for himself. The main hangar they were in was spacious with high ceilings, but it was also crowded in corners with props and scenes put away for later use. He hated that he wasn’t able to work. Stunts were out of the question. He’d be grounded and practically locked in his own hangar until the virus let up. Meds he was fine with, but having to laze around in bed all day was not his idea of coping with not being able to work on the set. He was sure Blade would agree. The workaholic never slowed down in the slightest. Just as he was wondering where he’d gone off to, the chopper returned, and Nick scoffed at what he’d brought back with him. “No.” He said flatly. “You don’t have a choice.” He replied, setting down the front latch of the vehicle. “I’m not using it.” He answered. “Fine, you can hop all the way across the tarmac to the hangar, your choice.” Nick bit his lip hard, face tight in indecision. He hated the wagon as much as he hated being sick. He hated everything it stood for, everything that made him feel useless for not having landing gear like the Agustawestland. But he also hated the idea of hopping all the way back, too. Normally he’d just fly back - it was his excuse for just about everything - and that would be the end of it, and he seriously considered just doing that instead, but in his state of vertigo he probably shouldn’t risk it. Especially considering the boss might have a conniption. Blade apparently knew how to read his thoughts, and without producing words, he shook his front in denial. Freaky. “Fffffine.” Nick said finally, glaring at the other helicopter. It was only because he felt like crap, that was it. He’d use it just this once and never again. The ‘wagon’ as the team had given name to it, was a flat cart with wheels that acted as the skidded-helicopter’s version of a wheelchair. It was supposed to be for all of Nick’s ground-transportation, but since he hated it so much he decided that he’d just have no ground transportation to begin with. He was going to toss the wagon off a cliff someday, but the directors kept it around “in case of emergencies”, or, he thought, in cases of indignity. But as another wave of vertigo with an extra side effect of good ol’ nausea decided to hit him, he decided it better not to squawk any more protest and just get it over with. The sooner it was dealt with, the sooner he could be back in the air. Blade had the front latch wrapped around his front landing gear, leaving Nick full ability to lay against him. He was cold anyways, and he’d already lost enough dignity as it was so why not. He didn’t care anymore. He’d realised the blue and white helicopter was probably trying his best not to panic. When it came to Nick’s own safety and well-being, he tended to lean on the side of worry-wart, but that was probably just because he’d watched Nick get into a lot of accidents since they’d been here. He wasn’t clumsy, exactly, but as the medics would describe, he was “possibly brain dead” as risk-taking as he was. It was worth it, he felt, to live and get hurt over not living and being bored. Like he was going to be for the next week.

Nick flopped onto the bed tiredly, and slightly agitated, while Blade went back to put up the wagon. ‘Good,’ he thought, ‘I don’t want to see it again.’ It wasn’t until he’d begun to relax on the cushions that he’d realised just how out of it he’d been. All day his body had just ached all the way through, in that weird not-exhausted kind of exhaustion that being ill usually went with. His helmache had gone from iffy to steadily worse, but he supposed he couldn’t complain about that one. He knew Blade’s migraines were a whole lot more hell than he’d ever know. There had been days so bad he couldn’t leave the bed. Those few occasions, he’d worried himself sick over making sure he rested, and making sure nothing interrupted that rest in the meantime. Come to think of it, that was probably how the older chopper felt about him now. Blade had returned within a few minutes, finding his partner had already rediscovered the blanket stash in the closet and bundling himself up to the best of his ability. Like a burrito with eyes. “Here.” He set down a couple pill bottles on the bedside table, “One of them is every four hours, the other is every twelve.” “Great.” Nick said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. The first day had gone by rather effortlessly. The medic probably knew he was going to be worse before he was better, so the early move was much appreciated by the young Hughes, especially on the morning of day two, in which he’d discovered that other wonderful flu symptom everyone hated: inability to process food. “Crackers,” he said, “just a bag of flipping saltine crackers. That’s all I want.” It was, for the time being, the only thing he could keep down. Even water messed with his system, so he took short, barely single-sip amounts at a time. Bladed did try to coax him into something a little better than crackers, but in the end that was the only thing that stuck. Everything else was usually rejected within fifteen minutes. Fine, crackers. The second day was also more prominent in coughing and hacking, so thank goodness for a med that helped with mucus relief. Nick had tried to make Blade keep a bit more distance, even if he was still taking care of him, but he’d stood his ground. “You’ll end up sick, too.” He argued. “So be it then, I’m not letting you try to take care of yourself like this.” He answered, “And besides, I take vitamin C.” “Pfft, yeah, you religiously take them.” “You’re the one sick in bed, I’m fine.” “For now, sure.” Fever was something that behaved pretty interestingly in Nick’s case as well. It wasn’t a permanent symptom like the others seemed to be when they showed up. His temperature fluctuated on a whim, like it couldn’t decide. One minute there was a low-grade fever, then he was fine, and then you blink and his engine was sitting at 209 degrees fahrenheit, cold and unstressed. Sure, let’s give the Agustawestland more reasons to have an engine failure. Day three was probably the worst one of the week. It was long, tiring, and fever had finally made up it’s mind that it wanted to stay there. Nick slept through most of the day without request, a sure sign that he really wasn’t feeling well. Blade hated to, but he’d actually had to wake him now and again for another dose of this or that, and then he’d just dose back off again. The blue and white helicopter watched over him like some overprotective mother with a newborn propling. He knew he’d be fine, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. This was the most out of it he’d ever seen his partner, since viruses didn’t act like physical injury did. In the latter, he was just the same. This crept it’s way into his very being, made him weaker and more vulnerable than before, and he couldn’t just brush it off like it was nothing. This had to run its course, as much as the both of them hated it. The older male sighed, putting down his book to snuggle up against his partner’s side, who he’d been watching begin to shiver again. To anyone else they probably couldn’t see it, but he could. He knew how the other reacted to things, even without so much as conscious thought of it. It was getting late, the team outside packing up for the day. Even without both of their star actors, there was a lot to be done in the way of setup and additional scenes, and with the beginning of a new season there was more to be done than the usual. He supposed that was a good thing, giving Nick more time to fully recover, the way he needed to. Days four and five were the beginning of improvement. Finally, he could eat some freaking food again! Well, so long as he was slow about it. The fever had also, finally, broken. One of the medics had come over for a quick assessment, and stated that he was indeed beginning to improve. But he wasn’t there yet, she warned, already knowing the excitement from the Hughes that he was almost able to go back to normal living. “Give it a couple more days, until everything is cleared up,” she said, “And finish that bottle even after it does.” The total time it took from first to last day was about eight, give or take. But finally, after complying to the medics and Blade’s frantic worrying, and his own tired, formerly ill-feeling self, he was cleared again to work - and to fly. “Someone go set the wagon on fire!” He shouted, already taking off from the helipad. “Keep dreaming, Lopez!” One of the set workers replied.

-----

Title inspired by the song “Shelter” by Porter Robinson and Madeon. It’s gorgeous, and the animated story is too.

And yes, even then, Blade worried, and he worked himself to death. He just strikes me as that kind of character really. And the migraines thing as well, I know some people with a history of those. I don’t get them personally, so I’m with Nick on this, but I know it sucks for them. (I have a fic on that actually on AO3, I’ll post it here eventually)

#fanfiction #nickloopinlopez #nicklopez #bladeranger #disneyplanes #planesfireandrescue #livingaircraft #livingmachines

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doctor-spencer-ried · 5 years

Text

Just a Crush (III)

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader

Hanahaki Disease AU

Summary: What seems like a calm, uneventful day gets flipped on its head with a single call.

Warning: Graphic description of a scene, gore

Masterlist ~ Part 3 (Word count: 2260)

A/N: My knowledge of behavioral analysis is limited to this show and my Forensic class, so there may be holes and incorrect analysis.

~~~

It’s been a few days and the team comes up with nothing. No tips have come in and it feels like the case has fallen flat on its face. Even now you all sit in your designated room at the station, silently looking over the evidence in the hopes that something new will come up.

A cough rattles your chest as you cover your mouth with your elbow. Your whole body shakes with the force of them. They break the silence of the room. Your throat stings, feeling dry and tight.

“Are you okay, (y/n)?” Emily rubs your back, her brow creased with worry.

You nod and wave her off, “Yah, yah, I’m okay. I think I’m just coming down with something.”

“Why don’t you go rest, (y/n)? You’ve been working late all week, you started early today, and we’re not really closer to getting this guy. You need a break,” Morgan suggests, his concern also apparent.

“No, I’m fine,” you insist, clearing your throat, “It’s just a cough.”

“Coughing is actually a symptom of a multitude of lethal illnesses, like cystic fibrosis or lung cancer. Most people dismiss it, but-“

“Reid.” A chorus of voices say, stopping him.

Spencer takes a moment to realize the context of his words, and immediately turns a light shade of pink. He casts you a glance with worried honey eyes, and your heart melts a little when an apology quickly spills from his lips.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to suggest you have one of those, your cough is likely just from exertion pairs with allergies.”

You smile softly at the brunet, suppressing the cough that builds in your throat, “I know you didn’t mean that stuff Spence, don’t worry.”

He nods with a relieved smile. The cough gets hard to suppress and your throat burns.

“Why don’t we all take a break?” Morgan suggests, taking your attention away, “We could all use one. There’s a diner down the road, why don’t we go get some breakfast?”

Everyone agrees, so you pack up your papers and head out. The diner is only a few minutes away, and you can’t say you don’t enjoy the fresh air that comes with the walk. It clears your head a bit and eases the pain in your chest. You laugh and joke with the others now, feeling lighter than you did moments before. They’re probably right. You’re overworking yourself, but you really feel like you need to catch this guy before he kills again.

You step into the cozy diner before the others and revel in the warmth that fills the room. Derek picks a table near the front, Emily sitting next to him. You take the opposite seat, heart skipping a beat when Spencer slides in next to you. His warmth brings you a sense of comfort, but also makes you uneasy. Your lips pinch together at the strange flicker of emotions. Why does he make you feel like that?

“What do you think you’re going to get?” Spencer leans closer, his shoulder brushing yours.

You clear your throat nervously at the casual touch, “I don’t, I don’t know. What do you think I should get?”

“Well-” You let out a breath as he begins to ramble about what will help keep you from getting sick.

You flinch when something nudges your foot from under the table. Glancing at Emily, you notice that she still looks worried. It’s the same look she gave you after that phone call with Spencer the other day. You dip you head and offer a smile to ease her, which seems to work. She leans back in her seat and turns to Derek.

“-and obviously oranges will help. They have a fruit yogurt dish, that could help if you have a sore throat.”

“That sounds lovely,” you hum, resting your chin on your palm, elbow propped on the table.

Spencer grins to himself, almost like it’s a small victory to have been helpful. His eyes flicker between you and the menu he holds in his hands.

Realizing that you’re staring, you cough and direct your eyes to your lap. Jeez, one of these days you’re going to zone out so badly that he’s going to think you’re some kind of creepy stalker. Which you’re not, obviously. It’s just a tiny crush. That’s why you feel weird. Just a crush, no other reason.

“How many days have we been here?” You ask out of nowhere, attempting to distract yourself.

“Three days, why?”

“It’s just, the last victims were found a week before we were called in. The interval between murders has been getting shorter each time, but this is breaking that pattern. Last time it was a week. It’s been more than a week.” It has been bugging you for a while.

“Our presence may have caused the unsub to recede back into himself,” Spencer suggests, “He’s scared of getting caught now.”

“He’ll break eventually though, he’ll go after someone,” Derek mumbles.

“And we’ll catch him,” Emily insists, glaring at the two men before turning to you, “We’re taking a break, just stop thinking about the case for a little bit, please.”

You nod, feeling bad for even bringing it up in the first place. She’s right, you need to get your mind off of the case for a bit.

A waitress comes by to get your orders, and soon you’re enjoying a plate of fruit and a bowl of plain yogurt. It eases the ache in your throat that flares randomly.

“Don’t even try to deny it, you jumped like a scared cat at the scene,” Emily practically shouts, teasing Derek about an old case where he got spooked at the scene.

You’re laughing so hard by now that you can barely breathe. In your fit of giggles, you accidentally lean against Spencer, who’s smiling amusedly at the others. He stiffens against you, which snaps you out of your delirium. Your laughter turns to a hacking cough at that exact moment, the ache in your lungs rushing up into your throat as you force yourself away from him. Everyone’s amusement turns to concern. Great, you ruined the good mood again.

You weakly wave a hand in dismissal and slump back into the booth seat, exhaustion taking over your body.

“Are you sure you aren’t sick? You don’t have a fever or anything?” Derek questions.

Your only reply is a shrug as you avoid eye contact. You hate making people worry about you, especially your friends. You really should have just stayed in the office, made up some excuse to get away from them. A quick nap probably would have fixed this whole thing up.

You flinch when a hand presses against your forehead, fingers long and gentle.

“You feel warm,” Spencer mumbles, eyebrows pinching together, “You really should-“

You bat his hand away softly with a huff, color filling your cheeks, “I’m fine, seriously.”

Spencer raises an eyebrow at you, clearly unconvinced.

“(Y/n), if you don’t take care of yourself this will only escalate into something worse.”

He won’t give up on this, you know that. Once he sets his mind to something, there’s no changing it. He’s too stubborn and caring. Why does he have to have such a good heart?

“I promise to hibernate for a few days,” you assure him, “but after this case.”

It looks as though he’s about to argue, but your phone rings before he can get a single word out. You hold back a sigh of relief and quickly snatch it from your bag.

“Yah, Hotch?”

“They found two more bodies. Come quick, it’s worse than the last.”

-skip to scene-

“(Y/n), I think you should go back to the hotel and rest. We can handle this,” Spencer worries as he walks beside you.

He’s like a mother hen. It’s endearing, but you’re a grown woman, you can take care of yourself. You basically started this case, so you’re going to help finish it. A little cold will not get in the way of that.

“Spencer,” You stop and turn to face him, frowning when you see how truly concerned he is. You sigh and take his hand, squeezing it softly, “I promise you, I’ll be fine. We’re already here, and they need all hands on deck. I’ll take a nap when we get back to the office, okay?”

You brush your thumb over his knuckles softly, an attempt to comfort him. He swallows and nods his head slowly, eyes downcast and lips pursed.

“Yah, okay.”

You wish he sounded more sure, but you can’t take anymore time to reassure him. Hotch sounded very urgent over the phone.

“Come on, let’s go.” You give his hand a final squeeze before letting go and following the path Hotch told you to.

He said the murder took place in an abandoned gas station near the edge of town, right off the highway. It’s consistent with the other scenes, but he said it’s worse. No context or anything. He really knows how to kick up the suspense. You thought he was the only one without a flare for the dramatics.

You sigh and pick your way through the overgrown vegetation, Spencer trailing quietly beside you.

“Bout time you both get here. How did we leave at the same time and beat you here?” Derek rushes up to you, tone joking but expression serious, “You guys need to see this.”

“What is it?”

He leads you into the gas station and back into one of the bathrooms. Your body stops as you step into the doorway, like heavy weights have suddenly been tied to your feet. You’re used to seeing bodies. You’ve seen plenty in this line of work, but this…

You jolt when something rests on your shoulder, but relax when you realize it’s only Spencer. He nods to you reassuringly and you quickly shuffle in so he can step up beside you.

The scene seems practically the same as the others. Small room, two chairs, two victims, blood. There’s so much blood though. Hotch was right, this time it’s so much worse.

“He’s rapidly devolving,” Spencer comments, grip tightening on your shoulder though remaining gentle.

“This is a big jump,” Emily says, “So far he’s only tortured the women and then killed both of them. Why would he do this?”

This referring to the ways the bodies are splayed open, sliced down the front. You balk at the way the ribs are pried open, splaying wildly from the chest to reveal the blood and gore inside. It’s grotesque and inefficient, like someone used their bare hands to rip the ribcage open. Blood is everywhere, coating every surface. You look down to see how it seeps around your shoes. An unfamiliar sense of dread creeps up your spine.

“I don’t, I don’t understand,” You stutter, words sticking in your throat, “This is so messy, so sloppy. Why is he not following his pattern?”

“He’s taken something from the bodies this time,” Hotch starts, “Both victims are missing their lungs.”

The sensation worsens.

“He removed their lungs?”

After those words slip from your lips, you find it hard to breathe, like your own lungs have been stripped from your body. The room tilts and spins and it feels like your slipping, slipping on the blood under your shoes. The only thing keeping you upright is the hand gripping your shoulder. Everything feels tight. Constricted. You can’t breathe. Sandpaper runs up your throat and a violent cough rips through you suddenly.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)?!”

You try to focus on the voice, tilting your head to gaze at a bewildered Spencer. His face blurs, going in and out of focus. You grip his arm tightly as the rest of the team surrounds you, all with identical looks on their faces.

“What’s wrong with her? Why is she coughing up blood?”

Blood? You deliriously wipe at your mouth, drawing you hand back to see a small smear of red liquid.

“She hasn’t been sleeping, we thought it was just a cough but this is worse.”

You lean forward, head light. You’re bleeding. Huh.

“Prentiss, take her to the hospital, make sure she’s okay and that she gets some rest.”

You are handed off to Emily, though you hesitate to let go of Spencer, but you eventually shift to lean against her instead. You don’t hear anything else as she leads you out of the gas station and to her car. You slump into the seat as soon as your inside, finally having a moment of stillness.

“Just take me to the hotel,” you breathe out when she slides into the driver seat, “I can sleep this off.”

“But Hotch said-“

“Please?”

You don’t want to go to the hospital. You know you’ll feel better after a good night’s rest. It was just the scent of blood mixed with all the mold and growth in the restroom. That’s what set this off.

“(Y/n) you’ve never reacted at a crime scene like this. You literally just had a panic attack! Everyone is freaked out. You need a doctor, you’re bleeding.”

“No,” you snap, voice croaky, “I’ll be fine. Please Em, I just need sleep.”

Emily seems conflicted for a few moments before she sighs heavily. You relax as soon as she nods and starts the car. Your head drops, forehead pressing against the cold window and eyes drooping.

Sleep will help. You’ll get some sleep and then wake up ready to work. No problem. That’s all you need. It’s just a cough after all.

Part 4

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #x reader #reader insert #reader #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #hanahaki #hanahaki disease

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fundeadasylum · 5 years

Text

This Photo of Us Part 4: We Must Never Be Apart

This one is a bit shorter than the others and I apologize for that. But that was a perfect spot to end it so it had to be done. (tfw you wish you had time to illustrate this tasty fic)

There’s also a big ol’ disclaimer for some stuff at the end of this chapter.

Warnings: emotional abuse and manipulation, mild physical abuse, non-consensual bondage (not sexual!), psychological torture and abuse, drug related withdrawals, captivity, descriptions of panic attacks

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

***************************************

He’d lost track of how long it had been.

Between passing out in the grass and the sick vertigo and unending headaches he’d been experiencing since, Jake had no idea how many days he’d been in Rosie’s care. It felt like years had been drained from his life, hours on top of his bruised and battered heart and crushing it under so much stress and time. His legs and arms were stiff and sore, his neck creaking as he moved, his spine a dull throb of pain. Moving too fast brought on a wave of vertigo that made his stomach heave and wretch, and his body was wracked by shivers and chills.

And he was tired. He was so very, very tired. The exhaustion dragged him down even more but no matter what he did, he couldn’t get enough sleep. The insomnia gnawed at his brain, chewing slowly away at his sanity as his heart ticked down his remaining minutes. No matter how low the shock setting on the collar had been, Jake knew his body had taken some damage from the device. And it was taking even more from the lack of sleep.

Jake slouched against the wall, splayed out on the bed with the sheets tangled in his legs and the heavy comforter wrapped around his shoulders. After his failed escape attempt, Rosie had carried him back inside and pushed the bed back against the wall. She’d done nothing to secure it but there was no danger of Jake trying to use it to get out the window again; he was much too weak now.

The sound of footsteps came from upstairs and Jake let his head roll on his shoulders to look at the door, his eyes lidded and tired. His bones felt rubbery and weak, jello melting in the heat around him. Too cold with the blanket off, too hot with it on.

The stairs creaked, locks jingled, and then Rosie stepped into the basement, her lips pursed in a displeased manner. Jake watched as she approached, hauling with her a couple of large shopping bags, one of which was making an awful lot of noise.

“How are you feeling today, hun, any better?” She set her bags down and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. He flinched at her touch but didn’t pull away, “Hm, you don’t seem to have a temperature but you’re definitely experiencing symptoms like a cold. And these have been getting progressively worse. Did you get any sleep at all?”

He just stared at her. Rosie’s expression hardened,

“I asked you a question and I expect an answer. Do you want to lose more privileges?”

She’d stopped bringing him delicious home cooked meals after his escape attempt, telling him that bad behavior needed to be disciplined and good behavior could earn his lost privileges back. He’d been eating bowls of white rice and bologna sandwiches for who knew how long and he was getting tired of it.

So Jake sucked in a shaky breath and murmured, “No. No sleep.” He let his eyes fall closed and saw shapes swimming behind his eyelids. He snapped them open again and his throat clicked in a dry swallow when the phantom images remained, translucent fingers of grey smoke pressing against the edges of his vision.

“Poor, sweet thing,” Rosie cooed, smoothing his black hair from his face. Jake shivered at how hot her skin was against his, a sour taste filling his mouth as she coddled him, “I wish I knew how to help you. But you’re just being so uncooperative. If you know what’s wrong, I could end this suffering for you.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and his skin burned where her lips had been, “I don’t understand why you want to punish yourself like this. Why won’t you let me help you? I’m only trying to do what’s best for you.”

A likely story.

Jake was pretty sure he knew what was wrong but that didn’t mean he was so eager to tell Rosie. It was some small act of rebellion on his part. Most people didn’t know because Jake didn’t want them to know and if Rosie didn’t know, then she was just another part of the general mass of humanity around him rather than a villain on a pedestal to be feared.

But this...this was too much. He could feel his mind fragmenting, splitting into slivers of who he was, breaking off to spiral slowly into a void of terror and mindless horror. This would destroy him eventually, he was sure of it.

“I…” His voice caught and shame crept over him like a wet blanket. He stared at his hands laying thin and pale in his lap, “There’s one med you didin’ get. Goin’ cold turkey on it…’s bad news.”

“What?” Rosie sounded genuinely astonished and Jake glanced up at her through his lashes, dull eyes sweeping over the startled expression on her face, “You were on more medication than just your aldosterone inhibitors and ARBs? Why didn’t you say something sooner!? Sweetie, this could have killed you!” She pressed her palms to his cheeks and lifted his head, making him look her in the eye. Jake whined at the contact, trying to pull back because it was just too much, but she dug her nails into his scalp and it felt like burning pokers searing his flesh,

“What was the medication? Tell me what it is and I can make this all go away. You just have to tell me, baby, and I can help you feel better.”

Jake only grinned at her, a lopsided, snarky thing that showed off the mad glint in his unfocused eyes, “F-fuck you. I c’n wait out the with--withdrawals. An’ then you’ll n-never know. Ha...haha…” He broke off into a wheezing, hysterical laugh that squeezed out a few salty tears. They felt like streaks of fire going down his face.

Rosie’s expression became cold and distant and she let him go, allowing him to thud back painfully against the wall. He was still grinning at her, the fear he should have been feeling muddied by exhaustion and hysteria.

“Okay,” Rosie said, taking a deep breath and letting it out again, “Okay. I see. I understand. You still seem to think that I’m trying to hurt you. Okay.” She reached down and pulled some things out of the forgotten shopping bags and knelt by the foot of the bed. Jake twisted to see what she was doing, frowning in confusion as he watched her use a power drill to screw a metal plate with a heavy ring to the wooden frame. There was something attached to the ring but no matter how he blinked, he couldn’t shake the fuzziness from his vision. He leaned back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply to steady himself. He floated for a moment that took years to pass and only came back to himself when he felt her hands on his legs.

Then there was something ice cold and heavy around his ankles.

Jake startled, jolting and pulling himself away from Rosie’s touch, his eyes wide despite his swimming vision. Something clanked loudly and dragged across the bed and his heart ached as his pulse sped up.

Chains.

He wondered if his hallucinations had really gotten that bad already. But hallucinations didn’t have weight and he could feel the heft of the black metal around his bare ankles, could feel the tug of the chains hooked through them. He pawed at the U-shaped shackles, whining and pulling and trying to unscrew the thick and heavy pin that pressed against his Achilles tendon. The chains were hooked through these pins, two separate, shortened lengths that were then hooked through a third U-shaped shackle and hooked onto the last and longest chain. The last chain was evidently cinched to the ring now fixed to the end of his bed.

Jake’s hands shook, tears spilling down his face as he gasped in shortened breaths, his heart thundering painfully in his chest. Sheer terror took over, cold sweat blistering against his fevered skin as he kicked and pulled and flailed, crying out in wordless fear at his own helplessness. White-out panic numbed his brain and all his animal brain could think was to get away. He backpedaled across the bed until he hit the opposite wall and wedged himself into the corner, shoulders bunching painfully as he pulled and yanked on the chain. The noise was deafening in his ears, so loud it rattled in his skull and made his teeth ache. His throat hurt and he couldn’t breathe and he was probably screaming but that barely registered beyond the blind panic that had consumed him.

Something warm pressed against him, caught his hands in a gentle grasp. A soft voice murmured in his ear and he couldn’t understand what they were saying but it was gentle and it was slow. Jake squeezed his eyes shut, tried to remember how to work his lungs properly, all the while shuddering with choked off sobs of fear and pain.

A soothing hand in his hair.

A soft brush of fabric against his bare arm.

“You’re so sensitive,” That voice, that voice, he knew that voice. Now if only he could get his racing thoughts to settle down, “It hurts me so much to do this to you but you’ll see, it’s better in the long run. I’m doing this for your own good, sweetie, I promise.” A kiss to his temple and it burned.

Jake’s eyes snapped open and he found Rosie inches away, smiling sadly at him as she ran her fingers through his hair. He froze, held his breath, didn’t dare move.

“Oh, honey,” She sighed and it smelled like peppermint, “You don’t need to be scared of me. This is what living with those people has done to you. They’ve made you so sick and afraid you can’t trust anyone anymore. Poor thing. But I’ll fix you, okay, I’ll make you all better. You just need to listen to me. You’ll get used to it. And then, when you’re finally free of what they’ve done to you, we can be together, forever, just like we’re supposed to be.”

She kissed him again, deep and passionate and she filled Jake’s world until he couldn’t take it anymore. He shoved her away in revulsion and wrapped his arms over his head, ducking his face between his knees. He was cold, so cold and tired and sick.

He heard Rosie shift and the weight left the bed. There was a long drag of fabric and he glanced through his fingers to see her bundling his sheets and blankets into her arms.

“NO!” He launched himself across the bed, scrabbling to snatch them away, but she stepped back with that sad and disappointed look on her face.

“I know you’re hurting but this is punishment for withholding information,” Rosie said, turning away and heading for the basement door, “You’ll get these back when you’ve decided to cooperate more. I’m going to make a phone call now. Why don’t you think about how you’ve hurt me while I’m gone.”

Jake ran for the door as she stepped through it, the chains loud as they scraped against the cement. But he never reached it. The chain wasn’t long enough and it tripped him, nearly sending him face first into the floor as he stumbled to a halt. The door shut and he heard the locks turn and then he was alone again.

He wanted to sink to the floor and die right then and there, just waste away and vanish into the earth.

But he was cold and he was tired and his entire body hurt. So he dragged himself back to his bed, crawled into the corner and curled around the pillow, shivering and wheezing and trying to ignore the flickering images and phantoms that slid back and forth in front of his eyes.

The shackles on his ankles and the thick collar on his neck were heavy and they dragged him down into a despair he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

----

A phone was ringing

Dan starred without seeing at the tabletop, his coffee growing cold in his mug, his mind a million miles away.

The phone kept ringing.

With a blink and sigh, Dan pushed his chair out and abandoned his coffee to investigate the noise. He was surprised the ringing hadn’t brought Milo running; the boy had been feverish in his attempts to find Jake, so much so that he refused to go to school despite Dan’s protesting. And Dan didn’t have the heart to push him. He knew Milo had exhausted himself this morning running around town and asking questions again so he was probably napping up in his room.

Dan frowned; it wasn’t the house phone that was ringing. So then where…

A light was blinking on the coffee table, next to the piles of paperwork and photos the police had asked for.

Jake’s cell phone was ringing.

Dan scrambled for it, nearly falling over the couch in his effort to retrieve it,

“H-hello? Hello, Jake?”

“Um,” There was an awkward pause on the other end of the phone, “N-no, sorry, um. I thought I was calling Jake? Who is this? Do I have the wrong number?”

“Oh...oh, no, no, you don’t…” Dan sank onto the couch, shoulders slumping, “Sorry, um, he’s not...he’s not here right now. He, uh,” Dan cleared his throat, stubbornly blinked back the tears, “Anyway, um, this is Dan, his roommate. Who--who is this?”

“I’m Rosie? I...don’t know if he told you about me? We were--we’re friends but it’s been a while since we spoke and I just...I would very much like to speak with him. It’s kind of important. Is he around?”

Rosie. The girl Jake had been hanging out with. The girl he’d asked to start dating. The girl who’d rejected him. Dan wanted to feel flare of defensive anger at her for hurting Jake but he couldn’t find the energy to muster it. If anything, it broke his heart more because she was in the same boat he and Milo were.

“Um, he’s…” Dan swallowed, took a deep breath, started again, “A-actually, Miss. Rosie, this isn’t really something to...to say over the phone. Are you--can you come over to the house so we can talk about this?”

----------

I did kind of a day's worth of research on heart medications and the conditions of heart failure, etc so I am by no means an expert. Some medicines for heart attacks and related heart failures are aldosterone receptor antagonists (or aldosterone inhibitors) and angiotensin II receptor blockers (or ARBs) which are what I have Jake taking.

I'm more intimately familiar with anxiety and depression medication as I've been on several different kinds over the past couple of years. The problem with prescribing Jake anxiety medication is that sometimes it can actually INCREASE the heart rate in some instances. There are A LOT of anxiety medications and if his anxiety is as bad as it seems he should probably be carrying around a situational medication. But given that he's so secretive about his meds, he probably wouldn't want those. So I just have him taking the same stuff I do, which is venlafaxine. It can affect blood pressure but that's not a big problem. It DOES, however, need to be taken at the same time every day with food as it's an extended release capsule. The major issue comes from quitting venlefaxine without weening yourself off it properly. Quitting it cold turkey can cause dizziness, insomnia, nausea, loss of appetite, vomiting, blurred vision, and even hallucinations. The meds take anywhere from three to five days to get out of your system completely. I couldn't find anything about how long withdrawal symptoms will last but I'm betting it's no kind of pleasant experience.

To be honest the guy also seems like he should also be on trazodone to help him sleep at night but that might be too much medication interacting with each other.

Also! The U-shaped shackles I have Rosie using are actually pin anchor shackles. Ones big enough to fit around an adult male’s ankles probably can’t be purchased at your typical marina but for the sake of fan fiction I can do what I want.

#micoverse #micoverse: this photo of us

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caramelfuzz · 6 years

Note

OMG!! Could you maybe write keith sniffly and feverish and maybe a little sneezy in front of lance's relatives and they all end up taking care of him that would be so precious :3

“Keith! It’s time to go! You gotta get dressed, baby, thenyou can sleep in the car, okay?”

Keith groaned, slowly hoisting himself off the couch and stumblingtowards the bedroom to change into something more suitable to be outside in.

After changing, he went into the bathroom where his toothbrushwas already set out for him. As he brushed his teeth he stared down hisreflection, you can do this. You’re notsick. He felt a tickle burn in the back of his nose, and he quickly spitand rinsed before jerking into his hands

“Ihkgshkk!Hih-HAH’kXCH! Hh… Huhh’MNPtshh! Hh’dtchhh!”

Okay. You’re only a little sick, but no one else can know. You’vegot this, Keith. You’re a master at hiding your feelings, hiding your symptomsis no different!

He swallowed some medicine, shoving therest of the box in his pocket and rushing out to see Lance had already brewedhis second cup of coffee, signaling that he was ready to go.

Keith followed Lance out to the car, grabbingthe throw blanket he’d slept with the night before for warmth, Lance had atendency to keep the car a little colder than Keith was comfortable with inorder to keep himself alert while driving.

Keith joined Lance in the smallishcar, and quickly fell into a deep sleep. Before he knew it, Lance was shakinghim awake for breakfast. He could tell Lance could tell something was up, and plasteredon a smile through the probably fever-induced haze.

Keith shoveled food into his mouthrobotically, sipping on the tea he’d ordered per Lance’s advice againstordering anything caffeinated,

“You’re just gonna be bored if you’reawake the rest of the ride, babe! Plus, you’re gonna be exhausted when we getthere if you don’t sleep for at least 8 hours total.”

“O-okay. I’mb gonna rund to therestroom really quick, I’ll beet you ind the car, okay?”

Keith turned on his heel, flushing ashe replayed the congested and raspy words he’d just uttered. He eyed hisdisheveled appearance in the mirror, glaring at the flush high on hischeekbones, and the pale, almost ghostly quality of his skin. He’d need to stepup his game if he was going to convince Lance’s family, and Lance himself, thathe was fit for their Christmas celebration.

He blew his nose a few times, stuffeda few paper towels into his coat pocket, and headed out to the car. The blastingheat did little to soothe the full body shivers Keith was experiencing, but he bracedhimself, trying his best not to let them show. He was fairly miserable the restof the ride there, barely able to contain his symptoms while feigning sleep,though he apparently managed to fall asleep at some point, because he wasrudely awoken by something yanking on his hair.

“Uncle Lance! Your boyfriend won’twake up! Mamá! Uncle Lance killed his boyfriend!”

Keith sat up, rubbing his achinghead, and did his best not to shriek as he saw the sea of little eyes staringup at him. Sure, the eyes had faces and bodies attached, but that was what madehim want to run away and hide. Keith was about to face his worst fear—humaninteraction.

Introductions were a blur of smilingfaces and bone crushing hugs and handshakes. In a word, it was hell for Keith,but he grinned and bore it because every time Lance got to introduce him tosomeone new, his face would shine with such pure joy that Keith just couldn’t bringhimself to burst his bubble.

Keith was tiring quickly, however,and Lance whisked him upstairs to his childhood bedroom where they would bestaying, sitting him down on the bed with a pat on the back and instructions towait until he got back with their things before going downstairs again.

Keith took the opportunity to quicklydown more cold medicine and blow his increasingly runny nose. The trickling feelingcaused his nose to be endlessly tickly, and he hitched a few times, hoping thatif he was going to sneeze he would do it while he was alone. His body seemeddetermined to make him as miserable as possible however, and only left him withthe unsatisfying burn you feel when you lose a sneeze.

He groaned and flopped onto Lance’sbed, pulling the blankets over himself as he felt an uncomfortable cold seepinginto his bones, he had to shake the fever at least, that would be a deadgiveaway if Lance went anywhere near his face.

Maybe he’d be too distracted with hisfamily to notice. Hopefully.

Keith zoned out for a little while, jerkingawake as the door slammed open

“It’s time for lunch! I hope youbrought your appetite because my mamá and abuela have been slaving in thekitchen since 6 this morning!”

Lance left as quickly as he’d arrived, not bothering to shutthe door behind him.

Keith groaned and got up, muffling a few painful coughs intohis elbow and hoping beyond hope that his body would make this easy for him.

Surprisingly, the gigantic feast the McClain women hadprepared was thoroughly enjoyed without even a sniffle from Keith, which he choseto believe meant that he was getting miraculously better, and not simplybecause of the cold meds he’d taken.

Sure, he started fading towards the end, but he stillcounted his lack of symptoms as a win. Lance, noticing Keith’s increasingweariness, shooed him off to the couch to relax for a while, insisting uponhelping his mother with the dishes when she suggested he go with his boyfriend.

Keith sat, dozing, on the couch when the pack of children—Lance’snieces and nephews (and maybe a few cousins?)—that had so rudely awoken him inthe car approached.

“You’re really sleepy today, aren’tyou?”

Another one elbowed the smallestwho’d just spoken to Keith,

“Uncle Lance told us not to wake himup!”

“Yeah, he said that he is grumpy ifyou wake him up!”

Keith wasn’t sure how to respond, buthis body provided an adequate distraction for the children as he was wrenchedforward with an enormous sneeze,

“ETCHSSHHH!”

The littleones squealed with laughter, while some of the slightly older ones began whisperingwith one another.

“Hhah… Heh-Nngx! Hh’tchiu! Hhah…. hhh… nn…hhih – HITCHEW! Hiih’Nkxshh!”

Keith snuffled into his forearm, reaching into his pocket toretrieve a paper towel that he’d nabbed from their first stop of the day, onlyto be halted by tiny hands holding up tissues. He blushingly took them and tendedto his nose as quickly and quietly as possible, dismayed when he felt anotherset of little hands on his face.

“You have a fever,”

One of the older ones tutted, sounding a lot like her uncle.

“I’m gonna have to tell Uncle Lance,”

“Ndo!”

The children jumped, shocked at his desperate attempt to preventthem from telling his boyfriend on him,

“Please, Landce cand’t know that I’m sick, okay? I’ll doanything you guys wandt but please dond’t tell anyone.”

The group looked at one another, exchanging skepticalglances before the eldest turned to Keith,

“Fine, we won’t tell Uncle Lance, but you have to doeverything we say,”

Keith nodded, bracing himself for a long list of humiliatingtasks from the children, choking back a cough of surprise when he felt himselfbeing pushed into a reclining position on the couch.

“You take a nap. We’ll cover for you.”

Keith lay there, eyes shut, as he felt his hair being pulledaway from his face. It felt good, whatever they were doing, and he once againbegan to doze.

“Hey! What are you gremlins doing to Keith? Ana Gabriela, getaway from him! He’s sensitive about his hair. Why would you do that?”

Keith, who had since opened his eyes, felt panic blooming inhis chest, if Lance touched his hair it’d be game over for him. He knew he wasrunning a fever and if Lance got too close he would know as well. What was hegoing to— “No touching! Uncle Lance, Uncle Keith said that I was allowed tomake his hair pretty! Just like you do with my dollies!”

Keith flushed at his new title, casting a sheepish grin inLance’s direction.

“Okay, sweetie. Uncle Keith are you going to be okay on yourown for a little while?”

Lance smirked, Keith gulped and nodded, at least the jig wasup with the kids, but when Lance was around he had to suppress his symptoms. Hecould already feel a sneezing fit brewing.

“hihh…h’NgT!xGTT! nGGGT! -ngXT! Xgt!”

He pinched his noseshut, shuddering as the harsh paroxysms aggravated the throbbing in his head. Heglanced up with watery eyes as Ana Gabriela held her tiny hand up, signalingfor him to keep as quiet as possible,

“Okay, you’re goodnow.”

“huh'EHSCCHH'uh!Ih'CHISSSH-xt! ‘TSHIEWW!eh’nGXTCH’uh! Sdff!”

He was pantingheavily in the aftermath of the violent fit, when he suddenly realized that heand the children were not alone anymore. Lance’s abuela was standing in thedoorway.

“You’re sick.”

Dun dun DUN!!!!! What’s abuela gonna do?? Lol please ignore me XD

#Aa writes #holiday prompt #kinda #sickfic #sneezefic #sick keith

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while-im-home · 4 years

Text

Sunday 15/03/2020

So today I was finally hit by whatever plague has been circling my immune system. I’ve had a kind of sore throat for about 3 days and feeling like I’m burning up every now and then and this morning, I felt like I had been hit by a tonne of bricks. My body aches, I’m sweating buckets, I feel a little confused and dizzy, my sore throat doesn’t seem to be here but something is definitely up. I climb into bed and put the fan on to try and combat this hot flush I’m having. There I stayed for the rest of the day, watching YouTube on my phone all day and hoping I would feel better as the day went on. This did not happen. Unfortunately I don’t remember much of that evening other than feeling sad that this was how I was feeling.

Monday 16/03/2020

Today was hard. Today was the anniversary of my mum passing away. I felt really horrible mentally and physically today. My soul ached not just because she was gone but also because I felt too crappy to do anything to remember her by. I planned to bake some cupcakes and B had given me a wonderful gift to remember her by, a video message that can be sent into space and he was going to record me and pay to send it into space through a company he found last year and had been keeping it a secret until today. It was so sweet of him. I cried for hours that day. I spent this day in bed again, feeling sorry for myself and also a little angry as my online food shop had arrived and half of my order was missing because of those asshole panic buyers swiping all the things. I took a turn for the worse tonight. I felt as though my face and body were pressed against scalding radiators and I felt very tired and delirious. B said I didn’t feel as though I had a temperature but my cheeks felt like they were going to catch fire any second. We tried to call 111 but we couldn’t get through. A lot of other panicked people it seemed. At this point we had been convincing ourselves that there was no way I had coronavirus, I had only seen one person and I was housebound anyway due to my agoraphobia. It must’ve just been a flu. I was drifting in and out of sleep as my body battled all these horrible feelings, my arms and legs felt so heavy and ached heavily. I managed to get to sleep with a cold flannel on my face.

Tuesday 17/03/2020

I woke up feeling a little better. I didn’t feel as though I was burning up anymore but I did feel shortness of breath and I messaged my friend who I had seen around a week prior to see if she had this feeling. She did. Granted her feelings were a lot more cold based where as I primarily had a fever and an achy body. She recommended I call 111 and see what they say. I decide to do it later when B had woken up (he had stayed up really late the night previously). Thankfully B had brought my Xbox into the bedroom for me and I began a playthrough of L.A.Noire. A game I adored but had never fully finished before. I will be talking about this a lot. I flew through Traffic and Homocide that day but before I could even think about starting Ad-Vice B had woken up. He was very anxious. He takes medication for his anxiety and was late in taking it so he was in rather a bad state mentally but called 111 for me anyway as my symptoms had started to worsen again. My ear was bright red and was burning up and that slowly traveled to my cheeks again. We got through this time and the woman was rather rude to me. She said because I had a fever and shortness of breath, they were going to transfer to me to the coronavirus specialist phonelines. I was sure I didn’t have it because I don’t have a cough. And that was the main symptom. They gave them my number and eventually called me back, she was the loveliest woman ever and said that they would keep me on their radar in case my symptoms worsen or anything but until then all I can do is self isolate and rest up. I fell asleep that night struggling to breathe and woke up many times in the night because of it. It was horrible.

Wednesday 18/03/2020

I don’t remember much from today. I remember feeling short on breath all day and feeling incredibly lonely. Self isolation is incredibly isolating, who would’ve known. I miss my friends and my boyfriend. He’s being cautious with me but is still managing to be a loving and caring boyfriend. My dad visited me but didn’t come into my bedroom, was the first time I had seen him in weeks. We don’t really have the best relationship. I remember eating more than I had done the day previously. And I remember that drinking had been a problem, I was struggling to force myself to stay hydrated, I only managed to force myself to drink one cup on one of the days but today I managed to drink around 4-5 pints of water (and a couple of them had orange squash in ☺️). I didn’t feel as feverish today but I did briefly that night. I was mostly very scared because the doom the media has been churning out had kept convincing me I was going to be put in hospital or that I was going to die.

Thursday 19/03/2020

Today was bad but for a different reason. After 5 hours of sleep I was rudely awoken by my own body. I was cramping. Hard. My period had arrived and wasn’t going easy on me. I managed to go and clean myself up and get back in bed. Unfortunately one of the symptoms I get with my period is that I get bad hot flashes. I burn up. So on top of my fever, it was hard to tell if it was my fever or my period causing me to toast marshmallows. And I couldn’t even have a hot water bottle to combat the cramps without completely overheating myself. I pushed through and it got better as the day went on. My shortness of breath felt a little easier but my sore throat had returned. Win some lose some. I finished L.A.Noire properly this time. And oh. My. God. I cried. I cried hard. The ending was so... unexpected and FUCKING SAD???? I have so many thoughts and feelings and although I’m really upset with the ending, it did make me love the game even more on a deeper level. I wasn’t in the mood for another game after that and ended up spending the entire rest of the day watching 2 Broke Girls on Amazon Prime. I’m actually really enjoying it. The writing is a little off and after a while it gets very repetitive. Caroline whines about how far she’s fallen and Max says vagina. There that’s the whole show. Fr though I am enjoying it. It’s a good distraction. B went out today, we know he wasn’t supposed to but we desperately needed some groceries that our online shop couldn’t get us. He was cautious, covered his mouth and tried not to touch ANYTHING he didn’t have to or wasn’t going to purchase to keep chance of spreading whatever I have to the absolute minimal. He also got me a present to cheer me up AND as an early birthday present. It was a Yachemon plush from Overwatch, I laughed so hard when I saw it my shortness of breath got worse. Oops.

Friday 20/03/2020

Today was the best day by far. I felt so much like myself, I barely felt hot at all, my shortness of breath was practically non existent and I actually felt a lot more human, however, I do have a lot Of phlegm in my throat and have had to cough and clear it a few times, still wouldn’t say I had a cough though. I’m a little wary of the people that have said it gets worse before it gets better so am keeping to the bed for a few days longer just in case. I feel so much like myself and was even able to get up briefly without feeling like I was going to pass out! It’s a step in the right direction at least! I was still mourning the L.A.Noire ending and was feeling incredibly lonely again (a common theme, I complained of loneliness to B a thousand times even though we both know he should only really come and see me if he HAS to). But he came down to hang out with me briefly to help me pick a few games to buy from the Xbox store. We picked some that were on sale, the first 5 chapters of Life Is Strange and Mafia II. I decided to start with Life Is Strange and I’m sadly really unimpressed with it. I’m not a massive fan of games where your choices effect certain things because they make me anxious I will choose the bad endings! I’m a little disappointed that it’s a supernatural storyline, I was hoping for something a little more realistic but it doesn’t ruin the game. I love the art style and voice acting, it’s a beautiful game with a promising storyline (even if it’s not specifically my cup of tea). I think the chapters were a little short considering how much they are at original price separately but I guess I’m just lucky I caught it on sale. I’m not itching to play more but I will anyway, I just hope it gets a little better :/.

We’re all caught up. I’ll try and write a diary entry every evening. It will mostly focus on reviewing the entertainment I have and describing my symptoms and just what I get up to. I’m writing for myself and people reading it is just an extra. It’d be nice to have something to talk at like a diary for a while. Even if it’s not talking back I appreciate the social effects it’s having on me.

Anyways. I’ll post today’s diary entry either tonight or tomorrow morning. Until then we take it easy. ✌🏻

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