#sicktember day 4

[dragonknightcal]

Day 4: Hiding an illness

Ft. Warriors and Sky

!¡TW: potential emetophobia trigger!¡

He thought he had it handled.

Warriors noticed the tickle in this throat multiple days ago, about 2 days after Legend had gotten sick. Time and Twilight had gotten sick only a few days before that, so it stood to reason that Wars had contracted whatever cold or flu they had.

It was minor, sure, but if he went down, that would leave Sky to handle the camp alone, and he didn't want to do that to the boy.

Warriors managed it fairly well, or so he thought. He purposely took a few more breaks than normal, drank more water, amd stayed away from the healthy members of the group as much as possible.

It wasn't till he was emptying out the contents of his stomach 3 days later that he realized how serious his illness actually was.

"Wars, you're burning up! How long have you been sick!" Sky fretted, rubbing Warriors back as he finished throwing up and helping him sit up. Wars bowed his head, face full of shame.

"4 days now." He croaked, accepting the water flask Sky handed to him and taking small sips as the other knight fussed over him. This was exactly what he was afraid of, now Sky would worry and fuss and stress himself out even more.

"Are you feeling good enough to move now?" Wars was pulled out of his thoughts by Sky's soft question. He nodded, and the skyloftian helped Wars get to his bedroll, making him comfortable with a smile.

"You rest now, captain. I'll handle everything from here."

"You shouldn't have to. I should be helping." Warriors mumbled, a frustrated frown on his face. Sky smiled and shook his head.

"I'm happy to help, Wars. Besides, the others can help me. You get some rest now. You've earned it." With those words, the exhausted man drifted off, the dim echoes of a song being hummed lulling him to sleep.

[triforce-of-mischief]

"What is that."

"It's soup," Wake answered, offering the bowl of said soup.

Mask frowned. "You're not eating soup."

By the winds, Wake didn't know how Mask thought that the congestion in his voice wasn't painfully obvious. "Nope."

He followed Mask's gaze to the rest of the group, who had been served hearty dishes of meat and rice.

"I can eat that," Mask tried. "Get that stupid soup out of my face."

"I'm sure you can," Wake said lightly. "Slate will be happy to give you some if you go ask."

Mask twisted his face in what was probably supposed to be a glare, and Wake gave him an easy smile right back.

Finally, the kid huffed and reached for the bowl. "Just give me the damn soup."

"Enjoy!" Wake passed it over, lingering for an extra moment to ensure that Mask had it properly balanced.

Mask grumbled at him, and as Wake turned away he noticed him discreetly wipe his nose on his sleeve.

The next time Wake checked on Mask, he was passed out cold, curled up and shivering next to a half-eaten bowl of soup.

[nurse-buckley]

Sicktember - Day Four

Fandom: 9-1-1  Pairing: Buddie x Reader (platonic)   Word Count: 1,293 words Prompt: @sicktember Alt. Prompt 5 “Can You Be Brave For Me?” Tagslist: @firemedicdiaz @fireladybuckley @winterreader-nowwriter @iamasimpingh0e @dayrin085 @hauntedmilkshakeghost @floralbuckleys @writingmysanity  If you want to be added or removed from my tagslist, please let me know!  Authors Note: CEO of getting these fics out 25 minutes before midnight! Once again, unbeta’d so I apologise for any mistakes! Requested by the amazing @firemedicdiaz I hope this helps cheer you up lovely <3

You let out a low groan as you feel someone shaking your shoulders in an attempt to rouse you, “Hey. Y/N? Can you hear me? Open your eyes for me sweetheart.” You can vaguely hear Eddie’s voice cutting through the haze, but your eyes are just too heavy. 

Eddie moves his fingers to the side of your neck, feeling for your pulse. He lets out a sigh of relief to feel the gentle thrumming beneath his finger tips, even if it is a little fast for his liking. He gently shakes your shoulders once more, releasing another sigh of relief as your eyes begin to flutter open. 

“Ed…?” you slurred, as consciousness returns to you. “What? Why am I on the floor?” Your mind still fuzzy, your head pounding, probably from the impact of your head hitting the floor considering the last thing you remember was helping Eddie in the kitchen before the world began to spin. 

Eddie can sense your rising anxiety as you come to your senses a little more and attempt to sit up, easing you back down with a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Easy cariña, you fainted. Just lay back for me, you’re alright. We’ve got you,” he reassures. 

We? Right…you were at Buck’s. You and Eddie had gone there after work to hang out. 

You startle as you hear a noise from your side, watching as Buck comes into view and sets the first aid kit you knew he kept in his closet beside you. The younger man kneels beside you, opposite Eddie, unzipping the kit to pull out a piece of gauze before passing the kit over to Eddie. 

Buck moves into your line of sight, taking your focus away from Eddie as he begins to pull out various pieces of equipment, sensing your anxiety growing more. “I’m just going to hold this to the side of your head, alright? You bumped your head pretty hard when you hit the floor.” He apologies as the contact causes you to flinch away, but he holds your head steady with his other hand on the other side of your face. 

You see Eddie placing a stethoscope around his neck, and feel your breathing start to come a little quicker, suddenly feeling self-conscious of all the attention on you. 

“You know, I’m actually feeling a lot better. It’s okay. I’m just really tired or it’s probably just low blood sugar. I’m fine…really. I don’t need the hospital or anything, really,” you stutter, trying to sit up once more. 

“Hey,” Eddie speaks up from your other side, taking your hand in his and squeezing it reassuringly, “No one said anything about the hospital, I can’t rule it out just yet, but I just need to check you over, that’s non-negotiable. Can you be brave for me? Just for a little while.” 

You nod defeatedly, allowing Buck to ease you back down this time. A stray tear rolls down your cheek at the thought of there being something wrong with you, but you know you’re in safe hands with the pair of them at your side. 

“That’s it. Just lay back, we’ve got you. You’re safe,” Buck reassures, wiping away the stray tear with the pad of his thumb. 

“Did you have any symptoms before you passed out? Any dizziness, blurred vision, palpitations?” 

You give a worried look to Buck, but an encouraging nod from him has you nodding your head, “i-is that bad?” 

“Try not to worry, it could be nothing,” Buck tries to reassure you. 

“B-but it could be something. I’ve never passed out before,” your panic begins to rise once more, the thought of something being wrong with you overwhelming you. 

“I need you to take a deep breath for me sweetheart,” Eddie says this time, “We need you calm okay, just let me worry about everything else.” 

You mimic Eddie as he takes a slow, deep breath, feeling a little calmer. “Good, now, keep taking deep breaths with Buck here, and let me check you over. I’ll explain everything before I do it and if it gets too much we’ll take a break.” 

Buck gently moves back into your line of vision, taking slow deep breaths for you to follow. 

“I’m just going to check your pulse,” Eddie announces, gently placing his fingers around your wrist and glancing at his watch. You focus on your breath, following Buck and trying not to focus on the feeling of your pulse tapping away against Eddie’s touch. 

He sets your arm down by your side, before picking up the blood pressure cuff from the kit next. “Is it alright if I just slip this on here?” You nod your consent, trying not to focus on the feeling of the cool fabric as Eddie wraps it tightly around your upper arm. You watch as he puts on the stethoscope and places it at the crook of your elbow, “Just a little squeeze here.” He inflates the cuff, just enough to be uncomfortable before releasing it, quickly and efficiently taking the reading. 

“Your vitals are a little concerning,” Eddie quickly continues, before you work yourself up again, “I’m just going to check one more thing, is it alright if I check your blood sugar?” 

The thought of the needle pricking your finger is enough to make bile rise at the back of your throat, but you knew Eddie wouldn’t be asking if he wasn’t certain. 

As if he were able to read your mind, Eddie speaks up once more, “I’ll be as gentle as I can and it’ll be over before you know it.” 

You nod once more, offering your middle finger to Eddie and holding out your free hand to Buck to hold as Eddie gets the necessary equipment together. “Do you want me to count down?” Eddie asks as he presses the tip of the lancet against your chosen finger. 

“Count down please,” you ask as you look away and focus on Buck, squeezing his hand tighter. 

“One…two…three.” 

Before you have a chance to even think, you feel the needle quickly pinch your skin before Eddie squeezes your finger and takes the reading. Buck is quick, grabbing another piece of gauze from the packet he’d opened earlier and wraps it around the tip of your finger. 

The machine beeps and Eddie lets out a small, “hmm” drawing both of your attention back to him. He turns the monitor around, showing you and Buck the reading. “I think we’ve found our culprit.” 

“Low blood sugar?” you ask. 

“Seems to be the issue, and it fits your other symptoms,” Eddie confirms. 

“Am I going to be okay?” you ask, worried at the thought of a trip to the hospital and more needles. 

“I think we can manage it here, we’ll settle you on the couch and get you some juice and a snack. Does that sound okay?” 

You sit up with the help of Buck and Eddie either side of you, leaning against them as you sway a little. They help you to the couch, settling you down with a glass of juice. 

“We’ll let you finish that and then we’ll just check your blood sugar once more, make sure everything's coming back to normal but I think you’re going to be just fine,” Eddie reassures as he takes the seat next to you. 

Buck takes a seat at your other side, nestling you safely between the pair of them, “you know, if you wanted to pick the take out and movie tonight, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” 

The three of you fall into a fit of laughter, the anxiety from earlier long forgotten as you settle in for the evening with the two people you felt safest with.

[faofinn]

4. Hiding an Illness

It was the first week of winter term, which meant exams were looming and Finn wasn't looking forward to it in the slightest. The week he'd had off had been spent with his head in his textbooks, drowning in mock A-level exams, and wishing he was literally anywhere else. Jess had helped, where she could, but law and medicine didn't really mix, and they were often left to study in silence. 

He was sure that the headache that had refused to budge was just tiredness, but the worry about his lack of sleep bringing about another seizure only made it hurt more. The cough, too, was just because he'd not had enough to drink that morning, every morning, that was all. He wasn't getting ill. He didn't have time for it. 

Jess noticed it, of course she did, but Finn was stubborn and there was only so much she could actually do. They sat together at lunch, in the rare times they had a spare period off together, her fingers running through his hair. It gave him a reprieve for a few minutes, some relaxation between what felt like the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

It was just normal for Fred and Sheila to worry about Finn, and the occasional cough and sniffle were just that - occasional. Finn was old enough to tell them when he wasn't well, he knew his limits, as much as he tried to push them. 

There was nothing they could do other than worry and keep an eye on Finn from a distance, and hope he’d see sense in the end. Jess kept an eye on him, and that made them feel a bit better about things. She was sensible, she’d make sure he didn’t do anything too stupid. They just hoped he could rest over the break, though they knew it would be difficult. With his mocks looming, he spent more and more time holed up in his room studying. 

The end of term grew closer, and Sheila sent Finn off to school for his last day, dropping him at the gates despite his protests. She fussed over him, definitely not well but too stubborn to admit it, and told him to call her whenever if he needed to come home. 

They’d made it through most of the day, but Finn was looking worse and worse by the time they got to final assembly. As head boy and head girl, both him and Jess were required to sit at the front, and Jess nudged her boyfriend. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked quietly, aware of the deputy head’s gaze on them. 

He dragged his fingers across his collarbone. "I'll be better once this assembly is over. My throat is killing me."

“You should go home.” 

"I might after this assembly." He gave a one armed shrug. "The head wanted a meeting with me."

“It’s the last day, not like you’ll miss anything.” She whispered. 

He took a beat to reply. "I need to finish the assembly."

“Are you going to be able to do the speech?” She asked, glancing at the head. 

"Why wouldn't I?"

“You just said you had a sore throat.”

"Everyone gets colds over the winter."

“I know.” She said, but couldn’t say anymore after a stern glare from the head, glancing down at her lap. She reached across to squeeze Finn’s hand, though.

He laced his fingers with hers, ignoring the shake to his own. 

She frowned at his shaky hand, but didn’t say anything else. She couldn’t, she was going to get told off as it was for talking. She kept an eye on Finn as the teachers droned on, trying desperately to look interested, given the whole school could see them.  

The assembly seemed to both take forever and no time at all, and Finn wasn't sure it wasn't due to absences. He felt alright enough to at least try, holding onto the fact he should be able to feel an aura if he was going to have one. The head turned to the pair of them, inviting them up to speak to the rest of the students as they had done in all the main assemblies prior. Blood raced in his ears as he stood, and he swore to himself for not keeping his legs moving as he'd been sat. 

Jess stuck close to him, aware of the way he wobbled slightly as he stood. She’d agreed to speak first, as she always did, to give Finn a chance to catch up. She finished her bit, grinning at the rest of the school, and then nudged Finn to start his bit.

He took longer than he'd normally would to start, his attention seemingly drawn elsewhere. The silence was deafening as he came back to it, a blush spreading across his already red cheeks. He quickly caught up and carried on, his enthusiasm making everyone forget about it. He was vaguely aware he'd had a few more, the slightly uncomfortable stares from the audience a red flag. As he always did, he stretched a hand out towards Jess, searching for comfort and guidance. He linked their little fingers together, made a small joke to ease the tension, and tried again. 

The absences weren’t unheard of for Finn, especially when he wasn’t feeling well or was tired, and Jess knew full well that he was both. The school were used to it too, it often happening during speeches or in class. Normally Finn could recover it, but Jess started to get concerned as it went on and they were more apparent. One or two was one thing, but the amount he’d just had in quick succession was a big warning sign. As he took her hand, their pinkies linked, she knew he wasn’t coping well. She glanced over at him as he tried again, but it wasn’t long before he was hit with another absence, and then a myo that tugged at his shoulder, and she knew a grand mal wasn’t far behind. She cleared her throat. 

“Sorry, we’re gonna have to go.” She said, resting her other hand on Finn’s arm. “Come on.”  

"Have a good Christmas break, everyone, make sure to rest and take time for yourselves too." Finn gave the kids in front of him a warm smile, letting Jessica move him away. 

“Yeah, Merry Christmas everyone.” Jess murmured, and gently steered him away. 

Finn's face fell as they left the assembly, his facade shattering, his stomach flipping as he pulled her down to the floor. "Need to sit."

“Yeah, okay.” She said, pulling her jumper off over her head. “Here, you can lay down.”

He knew the drill all too well, an unfortunately well practised routine for barely a minute's warning. His throat was dry and scratchy, his head pounded, and each cough only made it worse. He fought unco-ordinatedly against Jess' hands trying to help, grumbling in frustration.

“I know, I know.” She said to him, trying to help despite him fighting back. He was stronger and bigger than her, but she knew he’d settle eventually. This was something they went through often, Jess regularly getting in trouble for a messed up uniform. Once Finn was laid down she could run her fingers through his hair, reassuring him the best she could before he went. 

One of the support teachers finally appeared as Finn started seizing, their lack of experience showing in their panic. It was one of the many, many reasons Finn hated his seizures, despite his repeated attempts for education and familiarisation with members of the public and even the apparently trained teaching staff. 

Totally unflappable, Jess didn’t care about the teacher’s panic. She sat quietly with Finn, a timer running on her phone, and glanced up as they arrived. 

“Can you call his mum? He needs to go home.”

They pulled a face at her. "He needs an ambulance, not his mum."

“No, he has a care plan. He doesn’t need an ambulance right now.”

"This sort of thing needs an ambulance."

“He’s an epileptic, he has a care plan. He doesn’t need an ambulance yet.”

"But he needs his mum?"

“Yeah, because he’s having a seizure and when he comes out of it he’ll need to go home.”

"Not hospital?"

“Not necessarily.” She grumbled. 

Finn's seizure had begun to stop, and he let out a groan. He still didn't know where he was or what was going on, but let Jess push him onto his side.

She took to ignoring the teacher, glad Finn’s seizure had stopped before he’d needed midaz, well within the bounds of ‘normal’ for him. She helped him onto his side, squeezing his shoulder gently. “Hi, welcome back.” She said softly. “You had a seizure, you’re okay.”

Something in his blazer pocket was digging into his side, breaking through the haze. Blood coated his tongue, too, and he hated it, pulling away with a whine. 

She stroked through his hair. “It’s okay.”

He spat as much as he could, trying to move away from it. It barely worked, and Jess' fingers in his hair quickly pulled his attention. He turned to face in her direction, squinting an eye open. 

“I know it’s not nice.” She soothed. “But you’re okay.”

Finn had enough cognition to recognise he was at school, that the floor was uncomfortable under his side. He stretched out slightly, which did nothing to help, and so, with a grumble, forced his arms under him. He almost made it upright before he flopped (against his will) into Jess, resting his head in her lap.

She rubbed his arm, trying to help him to get comfortable. She finally looked over at the member of staff that had been with them. “Did you call his mum? Or do I need to?”

"I'll go call her."

“Thanks.”

It was a difficult phone call, the TA very much out of his depth and not able to answer Sheila's questions. Of course Finn had ended up seizing, she knew something had been wrong, and she hated herself for not pushing him harder to stay at home. She could tell the assistant wasn't the most helpful, so made sure to get him to promise to tell Jess she was on her way, emphasising that the sixth-former was in charge. 

Jess was relieved Sheila was on her way, the TA having finally seen sense. Finn was taking a while to come around, as he often did, but he was safe and she could keep an eye on him. 

Finn stretched out again, squinting up at Jess. "My arm's itchy."

“Itchy? You’re laying on the carpet.” Jess pointed out. 

"It's itchy."

“It’s a shitty carpet.”

"Fix it?"

“Do you want to try and sit up?”

He thought about it. "Yeah, okay."

“Then you’ll be away from the itch.” Jess reasoned, offering him her hands. 

It took a moment for both arms to comply, Finn giving a frustrated huff as they didn't immediately work. He pulled himself upright, leaning heavily against the wall to stop everything spinning. It was all still not quite right, the post-seizure haze still in full force. 

“Better?”

"No." He sighed heavily. 

Jess moved closer, kissing his cheek. “How about now?”

He grinned. "Yeah."

“Good.” She said. “Was only a little one, and your mum is coming to get you.”

"Oh. I'm going home?"

“Yeah, you’re going home.”

"With you?"

“With your mum.”

"And you?" He tried with a grin. 

“Don’t know if they’ll let me.”

"Please?"

“We’ll talk to your mum.”

[newwwwusername]

Fic title : I'm Not Supposed to Get Sick

@sicktember 2023 prompt : Hiding an Illness

Rating : General Audiences

Fandom : The Owl House

Pairing : Hunter & Darius

Additional tags : Hiding Medical Issues, Hunter | The Golden Guard Needs a Hug (The Owl House), Sick Hunter | The Golden Guard (The Owl House), Traumatized Hunter | The Golden Guard (The Owl House), Strep Throat, Sickfic, Illnesses, Good Parent Darius Deamonne, Autistic Hunter | The Golden Guard (The Owl House) (only touched on briefly), Bad Parent Philip Wittebane | Emperor Belos, Past Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Trauma, Childhood Trauma, Fear, Hurt/Comfort, Family Fluff, Crying, Minor Alador Blight/Darius Deamonne, Autistic Alador Blight

Word count : 703

[acasualcrossfade]

Sick as the Sea

Sicktember Day 4: "Hiding an Illness"

Stranger Things: Steve Harrington/ Eddie Munson

Words: 500 | Rating: T | CW: vomiting

@sicktember | divider art by @saradika

Summary: Steve is seasick and hopes for it to pass before Eddie finds out. Which doesn't work out so well.

Find me on Ao3!

The ship’s floor rocked under Steve as he compulsively swallowed over the toilet. His mouth tasted like his breakfast in reverse and he groaned with annoyance as the rocking of the ship did nothing to help him feel better.

Steve hated himself. He was the one that convinced Eddie that going on a couple’s cruise would be fun and a chance to finally, truly, relax. And it’d made sense. They both had summers off since school was out; it had all lined up perfectly.

Steve didn’t count on being seasick. 

His stomach flipped and Steve hiccupped and brought up more of his breakfast. It tasted sour and burned his throat. Shakily, he reached one hand over to flush.

A knock came on the door but Steve was thankful when the door handle didn’t jiggle. 

“Steve?”

Eddie’s voice came from the room and Steve grimaced. He’d hoped Eddie would stay down at the buffet-style breakfast and just let him grab something from the room really quick. He’d used that excuse last night and came back with nothing, so he could only blame himself that Eddie had seen right through his excuse.

“Jus’ a minute,” Steve called. 

“You okay?” Eddie’s voice floated through the door with a note of worry.  

“Yeah, be out in a sec,” Steve called. He willed his voice not to shake.

Steve slowly stood, using one hand against the wall for support. He leaned against the sink and with one cupped hand, rinsed out his mouth before exiting the bathroom.  Eddie at his side in seconds for support.

Eddie wore his burnt orange swimsuit trunks that Steve had laughed at and told him to get, and it was unfair that he looked that sexy in them with his sleeveless gray tee. 

“Steve?” Confused, Eddie pressed a hand against Steve’s forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” He tried to help Steve to walk but Steve shook his head. 

Eddie’s brow knitted in concern.  “Are you sick?”

“Just…” Steve searched for a lame excuse, still wanting to preserve this vacation that he’d convinced Eddie on, but his shoulders sagged in defeat. “Seasick, I think,” he finally confessed.

“Seasick? We’ve been at sea since last night…” Eddie protested before his face opened to one of shocked realization. 

“I didn’t want to ruin anything,” Steve admitted quietly. “I…I pushed for this cruise and now I just…can’t even handle being on it.” 

“Hey, look at me,” Eddie murmured, tilting Steve’s pale face to meet his own. “Seasickness happens,” Eddie replied easily before planting a kiss on Steve’s forehead. “And you couldn’t ruin this vacation if you tried.”

Steve gave him a weary smile as Eddie stroked his cheek. 

Eddie patted Steve’s shoulder and turned to root through his suitcase. “Besides, Wayne packed us some ginger candies in case we got sick. Man swears by them.”

Steve watched Eddie grab a handful of the candies and then reach for the water bottle by the bed. 

“Let’s get you feeling better, Stevie,” Eddie smiled.

[fletcherwilbury]

@sicktember Day 4: Hiding an Illness

Warning for Illness, medication, self-sacrifice, past injury, dizziness, and lightheadedness.

[softsnzstuff]

Sicktember Day 4 - Hiding an Illness

Fandom: Stranger Things; 001/Peter and Papa

Summary: Peter feels he needs to try and hide his illness from Papa so not to appear weak… up until he can’t hide it anymore.

Word Count: 460

If there’s one thing Papa didn’t like, it was weakness. It wasn’t even that he disliked it - he didn’t breed a culture of weakness. All of the kids at Hawkins lab were raised to believe that they needed to be strong. That weakness was failure and that failure was unacceptable.

So when Peter awoke one morning, chilled to the bone with nose stuffed and throat sore - there was simply only one option. He had to fake being well. Especially with the chip in his neck, he couldn’t chalk up his exhaustion and headache to powers.

He got up and combed his hair, putting on his freshly pressed clothes. Then he washed his face, desperately trying to rub away the dark circles forming under his eyes. He blew his nose right before Papa came to get him.

“Peter. It’s time to begin lessons.”

“Yes Papa.” He called out before slipping on his shoes and heading out.

Lessons today were another group round of the circle game. The goal was for each child to use their powers to try and throw their opponent out of their circle while blindfolded.

A few rounds had commenced, often times the younger children losing to the elder children. The current match was a very intense one between 002 and 015. Even behind the blindfolds you could tell how intently they were focusing all of their energy.

Papa was watching, patiently waiting to see the results, when there was a thud behind him as Peter crumpled to the floor, collapsed.

“Stop!” Papa held up a hand and immediately 002 and 015 halted and took off their blindfolds.

The children were all staring intently as Papa knelt to the floor.

“Dismissed!” He yelled.

Two other guards led the children out of the room, Papa gently pressing the back of a hand to Peter’s forehead.

“Nnnnggh…” the man groaned, trying to push himself up off the floor.

“Ah ah ah,” Papa tsk’ed. “Stay where you are for a moment Peter. Sit up slowly. Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling unwell?”

His cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “I’m… I’m not.” He looked down at the floor.

“Don’t lie to me Peter. You have a fever.”

The blonde young man looked up, fever glazed eyes meeting his master’s. He almost looked like he was about to cry. “I’m sorry Papa.”

Brenner huffed a sigh and helped Peter carefully to his feet, guiding him out of the room by a hand on the small of his back.

“It’s quite alright, my boy. You’re dismissed for the day. No duties until you’re cleared. Understood?”

Peter let the relief wash over him, thankful to retreat back to bed for a few days.

“Yes Papa. Thank you Papa.”

[empresskaze]

Sicktember Day 3 and 4: Painkillers and Hangover.

Noll again because this screams him.

~~~~

The first thing Noll became aware of was he was laying down. The second was the throbbing headache pounding his brain against his skull. Even his closed eyes couldn't keep out the daylight pouring in through the window at bay.

Noll shifted hoping roll over away from the light source but his hip had other concerns as it screamed in pain. Gritting his teeth, Noll cursed as he managed to open one eye.

He was in his own bed, that was good. Noll had no memory of how he'd got here. Thinking required too much energy, Noll knew he'd been at Taylor's last night...

That was it.

Pulling his hand up, Noll massaged his temples with his thumb and middle finger but it sadly brought no relief.

The rest of his view finally came into focus, Noll noticed his coffee table pulled over close to the bed. Letting out a moan, he sat up stiffly, his hand now rubbing his rebuilt hip as he surveyed the table.

A bottle of water, several painkillers, an energy bar and a note folded over sat just beyond his reach. Noll grimaced as he scooted to the edge of the bed but even then everything was just barely beyond his grasp.

"God damnit Jas." He swore, his voice cracking from his dry throat.

Noll's eyes fluttered again as he lowered his head, hands firmly kneading the back of his neck. Looking down, he noticed his cane half hidden under the bed. Grabbing it with one hand, Noll attempted to knock the water bottle off the table hoping it would roll to him. A few waves of the cane only ended up pushing the note to the floor and left the water bottle mocking him from its side.

A car horn outside sent pain pulsating through his head. Planting the cane down, Noll pushed up but his booze infused body did not cooperate as he went to take a step a wave of dizziness ran over him. Grabbing his head, Noll wavered as he tried resting his weight onto his cane before taking another step. Sadly his hip gave out sending him crashing to the floor, Noll pulled himself into the fetal position as he cradled his pounding head.

It had been a while since he'd been hungover this bad. Tears, from pain or frustration he wasn't sure, pooled in his eyes. Noll sucked in a breath and sat up leaning his back against the hard daybed post.

His fall had caused the water to land on the floor. Noll gave a half turned smirk as he opened the water and the painkillers.

Panting in triumph he remembered the note now sitting next to him on the floor. Odd for Jasper to leave one, or make it so difficult for him the day after.

Noll didn't even have the note fully opened when he recognized that script.

Next time you feel like getting shit faced after work, I'm letting Sebastian handle you.

- R

"Fuck." Noll swore softly crumbling the note in his hand.

~~~~

(For those who might not remember Sebastian is the bartender at Taylor's and is about twice Noll's size)

[groundcontrol21]

Sicktember #4

Prompt #4: Hangover

Fandom: Three Musketeers

Title: Under Control

Summary: Athos swears his drinking is under control. Aramis finds evidence to the contrary.

Notes/CW: There was really only one character I could do for this this, am I right? Mentions of nausea, but no in-depth descriptions nor emeto.

Athos was dragged to a haze of semi-consciousness by the sensation of something warm roving over his shoulders and the sound of something shuffling through his things. He had just enough energy to hope it wasn’t rats, but not enough to check for himself. If they ate him alive, it was probably something he deserved and at this point, something he welcomed, given the way his head was pounding like a snare drum. 

He groaned as the potential rats shuffled past him again, this time flipping back his coverlet. He opened his mouth to admonish them, but aborted the course of action when he feared words would not be the only thing that left his mouth. His stomach roiled. 

“If this is under control, I hate to imagine what ‘out of control’ looks like.”

Athos blinked one eye open, squinting at the sunlight that now streamed in through the shutters he was certain he had closed before taking to his bottle the previous night. The room tilted, but far more disturbing was the figure that loomed shakily across Athos’s view. 

“Aramis.”

Upon Athos’s recognition, Aramis dropped to his knees to rummage beneath Athos’s bed. He produced two empty bottles and added them to an extant pile in the middle of the room. So that was the rat that had been through his things. 

“You’ve a better nose than a bloodhound for fine wines, it appears,” Aramis said from under the bed. When he emerged, he held a bottle of a Spanish vintage, half full. “And more skill at hiding them than a squirrel. This was under a floorboard, did you know.”

The effort of tracking Aramis’s movements was making Athos even dizzier than he already was, so he shut his eyes and rubbed at them. “What are you doing here?”

Hands on his knees, Aramis pushed himself back to his feet. “Seeing as though you dressed me down like a schoolmaster for being all of five minutes late to our informal sparring match yesterday, and it is now fifteen minutes past the time you and I agreed to breakfast with Treville, I figured I would come to check on you.”

“Fifteen minutes?” Athos shot upright in bed, immediately regretting it when the room spun. He groaned and held his head, swallowing back his nausea. When at last he could speak again, he ground out, “What have you told Treville?”

Aramis’s tone was mild, almost dangerously so. “I told him that I gave you the wrong time, and, owing to my mistake, would go to fetch you and apologize for such a miscommunication.”

Athos’s stomach turned in a way that had nothing to do with the wine he’d drunk the night before. “Will you tell him—“

“No,” Aramis said, his expression unreadable. He bent again, this time producing a linen bag into which he began loading bottles, full and empty alike. “Treville will know no more of this—“ he shook one of the empty bottles “—than what your behavior conveys to him.”

Athos swung his legs around, and almost lost his stomach right then and there. He was forced to shut his eyes again and clenched his hands to fists as he breathed slowly, riding away waves of nausea for what felt like an age. As the urge to vomit backed down, he realized belatedly that his movement had dislodged a bottle from beside his pillow and sent it tumbling to the floor. Aramis had collected it, too, without a word. 

Athos swallowed heavily and buried his head in his hands. “I can’t make it.”

“I will tell Treville, then, that I regretfully found you abed with a cold this morning.”

Athos scoffed. “He won’t believe you.”

Aramis was silent. Athos heard him move about, the tinkling of the bottles against each other in the bag seeming as loud as cannonfire. Even so, the pain in his head was beginning to ebb a bit, and Athos knew from experience that the sickness in his stomach would soon follow. 

“Tea,” Aramis said, and Athos looked up to see him gesture to a mug on his desk. “The herbs take a bit of the edge off even the worst of headaches.” Aramis pointed beside the desk. “And in the corner, a bucket of cold water and another empty bucket, should you be in need of it.”

Athos’s stomach gave another lurch, forcing him to concede that the extra bucket may yet prove necessary. But the desk and the mug and the buckets were across the room, and as the world began to tilt again, the other side of the room may as well have been halfway across France. 

Athos groaned again. “Far.” His throat felt slick with bile. 

“Ah,” Aramis clucked his tongue softly, and this time when he spoke he wasn’t entirely successful at keeping a note of sourness from his voice, “but the captain’s office is even farther.” 

He slung the bag over his shoulder as Athos grumbled. “Do as you must. I will see you there at a quarter to ten, just as we agreed before.” With that, the door closed, and Athos grit his teeth and began to drag himself out of bed. 

[cyberwulf]

It's Not Easy Being Mean

@sicktember

Sicktember 2022 - 4. Hangover (encompassing 18. Nausea/Upset Stomach, 19. Whining/Crying, 23. Tepid Bath)

Meowth is in distress after a night of heavy drinking. James can't handle puke, and besides, Jessie's the one who wanted to be a nurse.

[autobot2001]

A Scary Situation

This one-shot turned out to be very long, and fitting to continue another one-shot that turned very long. I unintentionally wrote a short story. Here's a snippet with prompts from Sicktempber. Full story up, hopefully soon. Will link it when it's posted

Fandom: Transformers Characters: Crosshairs, Drift, Jamie (OC), Ratchet, Jasmine (OC), Jolt, Lightning (OC), Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Optimus Prime, Hound, Ironhide Prompts: Day 4; hiding an illness Day 6; sick and injured Day 8; persistent fever, Day 14; I shouldn't be worried about you, but for some reason I am" Alt 2; fuzzy socks, Alt 5; forehead kisses Warning: self-inflicted injury

Crosshairs and Drift knew Jamie was sick when they returned to her dimension. They were told four days ago. They expected her to be at the end of a cold by now. Though this has happened before, the two worry about how she didn't tell them she barely eats and struggles to get out of bed. The two are concerned about her 100° fever but decide to watch her for the next few days. Even while Jamie struggles to get warm. "Something doesn't feel right," Drift comments, "I know she's been like this before while sick with a cold, but…" Crosshairs looks at Jamie, also worried. They decide if she's not showing signs of getting better in the next two days, they're taking her to Ratchet.

The two struggle to sleep but stay in bed. Drift worries about Jamie's increased pulse even though it's normal with a cold. Even Crosshairs worries the next morning. Both know they tend to over-worry, considering the things Jamie went through that resulted in her coming close to death. Jamie's behavior this morning does worry the two. "I think a warm bath will help," Drift comments. Aware Jamie will not like being carried to the bathroom. He lifts Jamie's shirt, noticing something terrifying, "C-Crosshairs…." The mech looks at Jamie's abdomen, noticing what Drift is seeing. The two don't say anything. Both mechs aren't sure if they should return to their dimension now or not. Crosshairs quickly takes a picture and sends it to Ratchet. The medic quickly replies, telling the two to immediately get Jamie to their dimension. The two decide a stretcher would be a little better for Jamie. Relieved they can open a portal anywhere. What's concerning is the lack of response they get as Crosshairs lies Jamie on the stretcher.

Lightning and the terror twins wait by the medbay with Ratchet. All three are concerned seeing Crosshairs and Drift put Jamie on a stretcher. "I only told her, and they came with her," Ratchet explains, "which is perhaps a good thing. You five wait in the waiting room." "No, I'm not leaving her!" Drift argues. "You know you'll just be in their way," Lightning comments and hugs him. Damn, I hate how terrified he is. Sideswipe comments through the bond. And Crosshairs is going to act like he's ok. Something is wrong with Jamie and he has the same trauma as Drift. The five friends go into the waiting room.

The three medics can't believe what they're looking at. "You don't think she…?" Jasmine asks. "I fear that's what happened," Ratchet regrets saying. They see an infected cut and red like a rash around the cut. Ratchet injects local anesthesia, getting a groan from Jamie. He prepared the injured and infected area to get a biopsy sample and draw blood. "You don't think she was lying about being sick with a cold, do you?" Jolt asks. "We won't be able to figure that out. Jamie could be sick with a cold and now an infection," Ratchet suspects. Ratchet goes to run the tests. Jasmine and Jolt don't like they have to wait to help Jamie aside from covering her with blankets.

The five friends worry about Jamie, even if she doesn't show signs of being critically ill. They wait an hour before Ratchet walks through the doors. They hate hearing why Jamie is so sick. Crosshairs and Drift blame themselves for thinking she would be ok for the week they had to stay in their dimension and work. Drift sits on a chair, watching the color fade from Crosshairs' face. As much as he hates how Crosshairs hides how he feels when they watch Jamie struggle mentally, he hates watching the clear signs Crosshairs will pass out. He's told to stay sitting as the twins catch Crosshairs as he goes down. Drift feels dizzy. Ratchet hates seeing this. He knows this isn't unusual for the two mechs with what they watched Jamie go through. Hoping the twins and Lightning never have to go through what Crosshairs and Drift went through. Ratchet has also watched Jamie come close to death, but he has learned to stay collected. He and Jasmine will talk about this tonight and let their emotions free.

Jasmine and Jolt move Jamie into an in-patient room. Working quickly to get Jamie comfortable and begin treatment. "How bad do you think things are in the waiting room?" Jasmine asks. "Very, you know what Jamie has been through, and Crosshairs and Drift watched. We've only seen a fraction of what they've seen. Even if it was still terrifying. They thought she would be ok for a week." "And once they see how bad the infection is, they'll realize how wrong they were. Along with Optimus prime, Ironhide and Hound. I can't believe she's hurting this much." "This is scary, and it seems like this will never get better." The two sit in the room, waiting for the others.

Twenty minutes pass before Ratchet, and the five friends walk into the room. All five hate seeing how sick Jamie is. They know it'll be a few days before Jamie starts feeling better, and they are not surprised the medics put a nasolgastric tube in. Drift moves a chair by the bed and takes Jamie's hand, aware she's asleep. The three medics leave. The twins leave when they find out Crosshairs and Drift haven't eaten yet. Even though Autobots holoforms don't need food like humans, the Autobots make sure to eat daily. This does allow them to keep their holoform active without draining their energon.

"I can't believe it," Sideswipe sighs, "this is getting scary. I can only imagine how they feel." "I hate there's nothing we can do. They're struggling to help her." The two drop the conversation as they get close to the cafeteria. Uncertain if this is to be kept secret or not. Hating if this won't be secret, then everyone will hate the reason why Jamie is back. The two hope this can be secret until Jamie recovers.

This is getting terrifying. Crosshairs worries. He knows Drift isn't completely calm, nor is Lightning. "I hate we can't do anything," Lightning sighs, "how our love isn't enough for her, and having her stay here is unnecessarily impossible."

The twins return with breakfast for Crosshairs and Drift. The twins want to get the two out of the room for a while, but they know the two will refuse. Usually Crosshairs would convince Drift to leave, but the twins believe Crosshairs will refuse this time. Drift moves the chair to sit with the others. The twins and Lightning sits on the floor, rather than on the other bed.

It's a quiet thirty minutes before Ratchet walks into the room. "I hate to do this, but you all know how staying here isn't helping yourselves," Ratchet looks at the twins and Lightning, "I know you three are thinking of staying here with them. Jamie will be sleeping a lot. She'll be ok. You know I wouldn't put her in an in-patient room if she was at risk for declining." Ratchet leaves the room, not looking forward to the meeting he has to arrange. The five friends don't want to leave the medbay yet, but they know Ratchet will eventually make them leave.

"I can't believe she did that," Optimus sighs. "We asked for their help," Hound sighs. "You all know when Jamie isn't like this, she doesn't like how Crosshairs and Drift don't do their duties," Prowl reminds th others, "even if it's possible for the two to only help when needed. I'm a little concerned this could affect her ability to push her struggle to the side end fight in battle." "This is getting scary and complicated," Ironhide comments. It's decided for now Crosshairs and Drift are not working. Until Jamie is over the infection. Then, the five will talk about the plan. Ratchet adds how the twins and Lightning also worry about leaving Jamie alone. They also decide not to tell anyone Jamie is back. Hoping to avoid everyone in the base worrying more about Jamie.

Ratchet takes the four mechs to the medbay room. They see Jamie asleep and her guardians sitting by the bed. Ironhide and Hound can tell the two blame themselves. "They thought she'd be ok," Ironhide whispers. "Something had to have happened," Hound suspects. "That should be expected at this point, which is fragged up." Optimus stands by the bed, hating how much Jamie is hurting. Hating not even her close relationship with Crosshairs and Drift is helping. "I don't know what we're going to do," Drift sighs, "her dimension is the worst place for her, but we can't have her stay here. Every time we try, she's expected to come home." Optimus never shows his anger about the situation, even while everyone is talking about it — or ranting — but the anger has been building. He knows there are limited solutions, and Jamie's guardians have tried all of them. Unfortunately, Optimus doesn't think talking to Jamie's family — the cause of most of this — will help. Jamie has tried talking to them, and it didn't go well. Optimus hates how humans assume the person struggling is playing victim, and he's watching a friend deal with that. Everyone who knows Jamie believes part of the struggle is Jamie thinking if the adventure ends? But everyone agrees that is a tiny fraction of her struggles.

Optimus finds Ironhide and Hound in the hallway, talking about how disgusted they are with humans regarding mental health. "There's got to be something we can do?" Ironhide asks. "Unfortunately, the only thing we can do is keep her safe," Optimus sighs, "I was hoping not to resort to making sure Crosshairs and Drift are with her at all times. I don't know if it's wise to extend that to Lightning and the twins." "That's no good enough!" Hound argues. "Optimus knows that's not helping Jamie, but Crosshairs and Drift have been trying to help. There's not much we can do with the scrap in Jamie's dimension." "Unbelievable!" Hound punches the wall and walks down the hall. "I hope something changes before we lose her," Ironhide comments and walks down the hall. I hope so too, Ironhide. Optimus thinks. Optimus knows there's no point in staying in the room with the others. He leaves the medbay. The twins and Lightning also leave the medbay.

"We should at least change her clothes," Drift comments, leaving the room to get clothes. Crosshairs moves to the chair by the bed. The room is silent for a few minutes until the infusion pump beeps, which startles Crosshairs. He turns off the pump and feels Jamie's forehead, hating how warm she feels. He looks at her abdomen, even though it's bandaged up. I can't believe she's at this point. Crosshairs sighs. What can we even do to help her?

"Crosshairs!" Drift panics, seeing his friend looking sick sitting on the floor by the wall, "you ok?" Crosshairs doesn't say anything as Drift hugs him. Drift hates how Crosshairs acts like nothing is bothering him, but it's not easy seeing Crosshairs cannot act like he's ok. Neither are aware Ratchet is watching them. Damn, I don't think any of us can understand how close those two are to Jamie. He observes. Ratchet leaves the room before the two know he's been watching them.

The twins don't have to wait long before Jamie wakes up. Drift was hoping Jamie would want a warm bath but realizes Ratchet only gave her antibiotics but not medication to relieve the symptoms of the infection and cold. She doesn't like how Drift took the blankets off her. He works as fast as possible. Hating he can't have Crosshairs help, but he's changing everything Jamie is wearing which would mean Crosshairs would see her nude and the two are certain Jamie wouldn't want her friend to see her nude. "Fuzzy socks?" Crosshairs asks, seeing Drift putting socks on Jamie, "when did you get those?" "Would you believe these are in her drawers at home?" "No." "Well, that's where I got them. She's freezing even while under the blankets." Once Jamie is dressed and comfortable in bed, Drift gets her tablet and puts something on for her to watch until she falls asleep again. "It's going to be a long week," Drift sighs, "the only good is I can make sure she's getting enough, but only because of the feeding tube." Crosshairs hugs Drift.

Three days pass before Jamie starts to feel better. She leans on Drift who sits on a chair by the bed, trying to get Jamie to eat soup. With how little Jamie ate before she got sick, Drift worries she's trying to avoid eating rather than still not feeling up to eating food. Crosshairs watches, also worried Jamie is refusing to eat. Drift gives up trying to get Jamie to eat, hugs her, and lays her back in bed. "She's had a persistent fever," Drift sighs. "The cold she was sick with has likely passed, and now it's symptoms of the infection," Ratchet suspects, "unfortunately, I don't know if her lack of appetite is the infection or not." The three worry if this isn't because Jamie is sick. They look at each other, horrified. No one says a word.

Jamie is well enough to tolerate a bath, though she still struggles with chills. She lets Drift go into the bathroom with her, which turns into because he's worried she'll try something, to needing to help Jamie. Drift works as fast as he can to give Jamie a bath. "Sorry, but you need one, and I think this is better than a bed bath." I don't know if I should be concerned. Drift worries.

Jasmine checks Jamie's infection before Drift helps Jamie put on winter pajamas and fuzzy socks. Jasmine is concerned that Jamie isn't getting better even if she can get out of bed for a while. The persistent 100° fever adds to her worry. She goes to talk to Ratchet. Drift carries Jamie back to the room.

Crosshairs waits for the two. He notices Jamie isn't feeling good. Drift sits on the chair by the bed, not surprised to see Ratchet walk in. He takes a look at the infected area himself. "She is getting better," he tells the two mechs, "this is good for four days of treatment." "You sure? Because she was feeling well enough to take a bath, and now she's feeling worse," Crosshairs argues. "It's normal." Ratchet leaves the room. Crosshairs doesn't want to question Ratchet, but he worries Jamie isn't getting better. "She's wearing pajamas she'd be wearing in December and fuzzy socks, which we've never seen her wear. No way this is ok." "You know Ratchet wouldn't brush off something serious." Crosshairs sighs and sits on the chair next to Drift. The two sit quietly until Jamie falls asleep. Drift kisses her forehead and puts her to bed. "You ok?" Drift asks, "I tell you I hate when you hide how you're feeling, so I shouldn't be worried about you, but I am." "I can't anymore. She tried to end her life. There's nothing we can do but keep her safe and ensure she's eating. It's scrap. How long before we lose her? The changes we've seen the past ten years is hard enough, now this." Drift hugs Crosshairs. Both know there's nothing more to add to the conversation. The two go to bed.

By day seven of antibiotics, Jamie was feeling better, and ready to be discharged. The cut was fully healed, and the cellulitis was fully gone. The nasogastric tube is removed. The five friends decide to get Jamie out of the base.

[fanfictasia]

Sicktember Day 4

Hiding an Illness

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Chosen Twins

Anakin Skywalker

The sky is rapidly darkening as we keep walking, though it might be also because it’s starting to cloud over. I can’t tell how close it is to sunset anymore, but the night animals are probably going to be out soon regardless.

And there’s not even a question anymore about whether or not Obi-Wan is sick, even if he’s going to keep stubbornly denying it. He’s walking in the back of our group, which is weird in and of itself. And yes, usually Aniya and I give him a total headache trying to keep up with us, but Qui-Gon certainly isn’t having a problem today.

I slow my pace a little bit in case it helps, but I really don’t get why he’s being so stubborn about admitting it.

And then he promptly starts coughing, again.

“Are you still going to deny that you’re sick?” Aniya chirps, glancing back at him.

Qui-Gon just sighs, an obvious mixture of fond and exasperated. I can’t even blame him for not wanting to get involved in this madness, even if we could really use him to back us up.

“It’s not a crime to be poisoned by very poisonous toxins,” I interject. I’m glad I got it over with so quickly, though I’ve noticed Aniya and I tend to react differently to… some substances that are toxic for humans than our masters do. I think it’s because we’re half-Force. Our biology must be a little different, though no one really knows in what ways or how much.

“Coughing does not mean I’m sick,” Obi-Wan replies, stubbornly.

[misscrazyfangirl321]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sanctuary (TV), Haven (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Helen Magnus & Jordan McKee Characters: Helen Magnus, Jordan McKee Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friendship, Insomnia, Comfort, Past Character Death, Loneliness, Bonding, Sicktember 2022 Series: Part 3 of Sicktember 2022 Summary:

She still has the outfit she was wearing when she showed up at the Sanctuary: the ratty jeans and faded long-sleeve tee, the only remnants of her life before. (Before she left Haven. Before someone stole her car, leaving her with only a few dollars, a sandwich, and the clothes on her back.)

-

For @sicktember Day Four, but using the first Alt prompt: Soft Pajamas.

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

How to Become Patient Zero in One or Two Easy Steps

Rating: General Audiences Characters: Bowser, Bowser Junior, Kamek, Mario, Luigi, Peach Relationships: Bowser & Bowser Junior, Bowser & Peach, Bowser & Luigi, Bowser & Kamek Tags: Sickfic, Humor, Fluff, Kamek is Bowser’s Dad, Sicktember 2023

Summary: Bowser’s having a good feeling about this kidnapping attempt, so when he discovers he’s sick he tries to push through and hide it to see his latest scheme through to the end. This doesn't work out, obviously. Prompts: 4. Hiding an Illness, 6. Sick and Injured, 14. "I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason I am", 21. "But if you stay, you'll get sick too", 30. Patient Zero Word Count: 1,352 words

[AO3 Link]

~~~

In Bowser’s opinion, this latest kidnapping scheme was going pretty smoothly so far.

Princess Peach was captured and secured, despite a small scuffle — it was equal parts fun and frustrating when someone accidentally left a weapon lying too close to her — and the Mario Bros were — well, they weren't being stopped, but they were only midway through World 2! The later surprises he had in store for them would get them for sure!

Everyone was working like a well-oiled machine, at top form, and Bowser was just going to join them. Just as soon as he finished enduring this wave of whatever crud he’d woken up with today.

Well — actually he’d woken up with it days ago, hoping to push through it as his plans fell into place. But it proved hard to ignore, with his throat so raw and his sinuses so stuffed and his very bones aching something fierce. Usually it’d be something to just sleep off and let pass, but with all these preparations to do he’d hardly had more than a few minutes to sit down, let alone take a nap. This was the longest break he’d had in a while, to be honest, hidden in some forgotten hallway taking a breather.

It wasn't like he could call all this off either; everything was way too far along for that and besides, Bowser had a good feeling about this attempt! Though, he knew if Kamek got even a whiff of the idea that Bowser was under the weather then he’d force him to cancel everything anyway. Luckily, Bowser had coincidentally sent him off earlier to supervise the World 7 and 8 work, sparing him from those scrutinizing eyes.

As for the other pair of scrutinizing eyes, though...Bowser turned to face Junior, who had been watching him suspiciously. Those were a bit more difficult to avoid.

“Hey, Junior!” Bowser’s voice cracked a little as the words left his mouth. He hid a wince.

Junior’s gaze narrowed. “...Dad, are you sick?” he asked Bowser outright.

“What? Nah,” Bowser replied a little too quickly. He realized he was leaning a hand against the wall for support and straightened abruptly, almost falling over the other way as he got dizzy for a second. “I just...uh...didn't get that much sleep last night! Working hard, you know how it is!”

Junior didn’t look convinced.

“You don't have to worry!” Bowser stifled a cough. “I’m fine! Just taking a break!”

“But what if I'm worried anyway?” Junior said, frowning up at Bowser. “Even though I'm not supposed’ta be?”

Bowser made to ruffle Junior’s hair, remembered his elevated body temperature, and then didn’t. “Well then...” he said, pasting a smirk onto his face, “I’ll show ya you don't have to be worried, by squashing those Loser Bros. flat when they get here!”

“Not if I beat them with my mech first!” Junior grinned, suspicions visibly fading at the implied challenge.

“Heh, we’ll see about that!” Ah, what else could distract him...? “Speaking of your mech, you figure out how to fit in those rocket launchers yet?”

“Almost!” Junior began rambling about his design process, successfully distracted. Bowser breathed a tiny sigh of relief, managing to cajole Junior into running off to put some finishing touches onto his contraption. 

In his son’s absence, Bowser muffled a sneeze into his arm, his nose burning at the effort to keep it locked behind his teeth. Yikes, that was close. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this up. Pretending he was fine was exhausting, almost more so than being sick itself. But Bowser refused to let some minor illness get the better of him so easily. He stepped out from the hallway to rejoin his army. Yeah, he’d have those pesky germs knocked out flat in no time!

---

Bowser woke up slowly, blinking up at the rich purple canopy of his bed. Why was he in bed? He wracked his brain trying to remember. The cotton his head felt stuffed with made it impossible. The last thing he did was...was...what was it?

Bowser heard a shuffling noise next to him. It was Greenie, staring at him wide-eyed.

“...What’re you lookin’ at?” Bowser glared at him. 

In lieu of answering, Greenie burst into tears.

“Wh —?” Bowser tried to sit up; it was a bit difficult with his arms and half his torso in bandages and his entire body feeling shaky and weak, but he somehow managed. Whatever was sitting on his head fell off — an ice pack, whose absence was almost immediately felt based on the throbbing in his skull. “Shut up,” Bowser snapped at Greenie, trying to sound intimidating. The words came out as if he’d eaten gravel, and upon hearing them Greenie somehow began crying harder, so obviously that didn't work.

As if summoned, Mario skidded into the room, Kamek not far behind with a large mug of tea gripped in his claws. “Oh, you're awake,” Kamek said. He sounded cross, and Bowser couldn't help but feel nervous. “I was wondering why you insisted on keeping me out in the field,” he continued, and uh-oh. 

“You said I didn't have to be worried!” was the first thing Junior shouted as soon as he ran into the room next and aw jeez. What even happened?

Peach, a blanket over her shoulders and the last one to crowd his bedside, filled him in. Apparently his and the Marios’ final battle had started off as usual, but partway through the fight Mario had noticed Bowser acting off. The lack of banter and boasting, the faltering reflexes, the whiffed attacks...the amount of evidence pointing to something being wrong had grown ever larger. Until Greenie had thrown his hammer at Bowser’s head, a predictable, highly telegraphed maneuver that Bowser normally would have dodged with ease. Instead, it had hit Bowser full force, and he’d dropped like a stone and stopped moving. Greenie had been honestly scared he’d killed Bowser right then and there, hence the waterworks now.

“As if you could kill me.” Bowser scowled at Greenie. Greenie hiccuped, still teary.

Anyway, Mario had swiftly run off to find Kamek, and Peach had passed along the suspicions Junior had shared with her a while ago plus a few suspicions of her own — for example, Bowser had visited her a lot less than usual this time around. And then they all stayed to help take care of Bowser. “This is the first time you’d woken up this coherent, you know,” Peach told him, cocking a grin.

The first time? Bowser frowned. “Well, now I’m awake for real. So get out of here before you get sick with whatever this is, too.”

Peach shook her head. “That ship has already sailed —”

As if on cue, Mario sneezed. Bowser looked over to where he was patting Greenie on the shoulder. Mario met his gaze and shrugged. 

“It’s been a few days, and you were really bad off,” Peach explained. “So we’re going to keep helping you until you’re better, and then you’ll have to mind us, as we won't be fit to travel for a while.” She raised her chin. “Think of it as payback, for scaring us all half to death.”

Bowser grumbled, sinking further into the bed. He didn't want the Mario Bros hanging around his castle. Blegh.

Kamek knocked back the rest of his tea, slamming the mug down on the end table with a little more force than necessary. “If you're finished with your explanations,” Kamek said mildly, gesturing at Mario and Greenie and Peach even as he kept his eyes on Bowser. “I’d like to have a moment with Patient Zero here, if you wouldn't mind.”

Mario helped Greenie to his feet. Peach gave Junior her blanket before she followed them out of the room, and he clambered onto the bed next to Bowser, wrapping himself in it. As the door swung closed, Bowser realized he’d prefer the Mario Bros running around his home, actually, to the look on Kamek’s face as he opened his mouth to give Bowser the scolding of a lifetime.

[fletcherwilbury]

@sicktember Day 4: Alt Prompt 5: "Can you be brave for me?"

Warning for Overworking, migraine, nausea, vomiting, and medication.