#working themselves to exhaustion

[c-kiddo]

was worried parts of cr2 would not hold up on rewatch (especially seeing people hate the aeor arc so much) but ngl so far its either been good and fun as hell (travellercon, pirate arc) or just straight up banger after banger. like the xhorhas to angel of irons through to refjorged arc and then the cathedral.................. unrelenting slay

[letitbehurt]

Sleep-deprived Whumpees finally succumbing to exhaustion in the middle of a task—reading in bed, writing from a desk, working on a puzzle or project meant to keep them awake—and Caretaker discovering them asleep. Gently marking their page, turning off the desk lamp, laying a blanket over their body, and hoping they don’t wake screaming again.

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Day 22: Human Weapon / Worked Themselves to Exhaustion

@febuwhump prompt Alt 4: Human Weapon @badthingshappenbingo prompt: Worked Themselves to Exhaustion

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Omega, Crosshair, Hunter Set when they are all living happily on Pabu Word Count: ~2440 Read Here on A03

Synopsis: Omega wants to celebrate her friend's birthday, and finds out Crosshair's thoughts on the subject.

100% inspired by the fact I baked cupcakes for Season 3 launch day

Crosshair leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Omega through eyed narrowed in suspicion. The clone girl was up to her elbows in ingredients, packets and boxes discarded messily around her as she focussed with forceful concentration on the large mixing bowl.

Omega’s hands, arms and apron were all streaked with powdery white debris from where she had tipped the bag of flour with too much enthusiasm, and she spread the mess to her face when she tried to wipe her hair out of her eyes with the back of her arm.

“I don’t know why you’re going to all this trouble,” Crosshair said with a deprecating edge of boredom to his voice. “What’s the point?”

He reached out and snagged a party snack from a nearby platter, cubes of cheese and pineapple skewered neatly on wooden cocktail sticks. Omega smacked his retreating hand with the back of her mixing spoon; he grinned unrepentantly and held her gaze whilst devouring the dainty snack and turning the cocktail stick in his mouth like a toothpick.

“Crosshair! Those are for the party guests!” Omega scolded, putting down her current utensil and whisking the platter out of Crosshair’s reach.

Crosshair merely shrugged, licking the batter residue of her assault from his hand before folding his arms.

“And the point is, it’s Lyana’s birthday! We’re going to celebrate. I told Shep I would make the cake.”

“You don’t know how to make cake,” said Crosshair bluntly.

Omega grit her teeth and returned to her bowl, starting to mix again. “That’s why I’m following a recipe,” she told him, in the tone of voice one uses with someone struggling to grasp a simple concept.

Crosshair scooped up a broken eggshell and inspected it. It had taken Omega five minutes to fish the remnants of the shell out of the cake batter earlier when she had misjudged the force needed to crack the egg into the bowl.

“Still don’t see why you’re bothering,” he said, turning to toss the eggshell into the bin with precision accuracy. “It’s not like Lyana’s ever going to do something like this for you.”

“Why not?” said Omega grumpily.

“You’re a clone,” was Crosshair’s flat reply. “Clones don’t have birthdays.”

Omega paused in her task, looking up at him with wide brown eyes.

“Birthdays are a stupid nat-born tradition,” continued Crosshair, glaring about at the mess in the kitchen. “All this fuss over one day. They get older every day, and yet make such a noise about marking this one day in particular.” He jabbed a finger in Omega’s direction. “You don’t have a birthday. Lyana is never going to make cake for you. So why bother doing this for her?”

For a moment Omega just stared at him, mouth hanging open in shock as she processed his unexpected diatribe. Then she returned to her mix with renewed ferocity, scraping the spoon along the edges of the bowl and scooping the batter out into the waiting cake tin.

“We get decanted,” she said, a little crossly. “That’s like being born.”

Crosshair barked a bitter laugh. “What are you going to do, celebrate your decanting anniversary?”

“I could!” Omega snapped back, fixing him with a glare before returning to levelling the cake batter. “We all could! Some of Echo’s reg friends from the 501st do. I heard him talking to them about it. They invited him to Coruscant, but he couldn’t go because Tech was upgrading the Marauder.”

Crosshair sniffed and tightened his arms across his chest. Omega didn’t miss the defensive movement, or the way his shoulders rose towards his ears with ill-concealed tension.

Taking a deep breath, Omega shook her thoughts and concentrated on the next step in the cake procedure. She carefully sheathed her hands in the protective heat-mitts before opening the oven, and even more carefully lifted the cake tin down onto the wire shelf.

When she straightened up she took the mitts off and threw one of them at Crosshair.

“Why don’t you want to celebrate your decanting day?” she asked, in that special voice he knew she saved for when she wouldn’t back down from a fight. “What’s so bad about it?”

“For starters, I’m an elite clone commando, not a child,” Crosshair drawled, and the second mitt followed the first. Crosshair dodged, but didn’t break a smile. His face had settled into a familiar frown that they had been seeing less of of late, and Omega paused and walked round to stand beside him instead.

“You can tell me, Crosshair,” she said, leaning her shoulder against his side. He didn’t respond immediately, so she let her head rest against his upper arm as well. “Why don’t you want to talk about your decanting day?”

Crosshair huffed and shrugged her off, so she returned to standing, looking up at him expectantly. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, teeth clenching hard around the toothpick as he chewed on his answer.

“I don’t know about the regs,” he said at length, voice soft and sibilant above the hum of the oven, “but for enhanced clones, your decanting day anniversary was a day for the Kaminoans to take you and test you, measure you, make sure you were developing as expected…” He trailed off, shaking his head sharply as though it could dispel the memories. He scrunched his eyes shut, head dropping forwards. “It was a convenient day for them to check you were on target. If you weren’t performing adequately, or if they found a defect…”

When he trailed off Omega reached out tentatively, trying to rest her small, messy hand over his. Crosshair flinched his hand out of reach.

“We were designed to be human weapons,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Decanting day was when they performed their quality control checks.”

Omega could see the tremor that had set up in his tall frame, and made another attempt to capture his hand. This time she twined her sticky cake-batter fingers through his, taking his arm from where it was folded across his chest and letting it drop between them as they stood side by side, both looking forwards at the messy kitchen counter rather than at each other.

“I’m sorry that you had to be scared of that, Crosshair,” she said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as she spoke.

Crosshair’s fingers twitched in return. He didn’t return the pressure of her hand, but it was something, and at least this time he wasn’t trying to pull away.

“We’re on Pabu now,” Omega continued, her voice lighter. “No more tests. For any of us.” She gave a small smile. “Just Lyana’s birthday party.”

Crosshair grunted a noise that might have been agreement. Then he took his hand back from hers, wiping the stickiness off on her shoulder.

“Ew, Crosshair!” Omega protested. “I’m wearing an apron for a reason!”

“You should clean up this mess before Hunter gets home,” said Crosshair, gesturing at the kitchen. “Maybe wash the flour out your hair too.”

Omega heaved a sigh, brushed her hands down the front of her apron, and began to clean up.

*

“Crosshair, the cake… it’s stuck…”

Crosshair peered over with feigned disinterest. Omega shook the cake-tin hard, only for the top of it to break away and land in a fragmented pile on the cooling rack, whilst the base stayed resolutely stuck inside the cake tin.

Omega gasped in dismay and turned the tin over, inspecting the damaged remains of her baking attempt. Crosshair picked up the datapad she had been using, skimming the recipe.

“Did you remember to grease the cake tin before you poured the batter in?” he asked drily.

Omega groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I’m going to have to do the whole thing again.”

“Looks like it.” Crosshair checked the chrono on the datapad. “Better hurry it up, too. You haven’t got long before the party.”

Reluctantly, but with a sense of urgency, Omega began to retrieve the baking ingredients and equipment she had so carefully stowed and washed up. Crosshair watched with the faintest smile as she began the process again.

*

Lyana’s birthday party went late into the night. Long after the children were dozing the adults sat and talked and drank and laughed.

Omega curled up at the end of Lyana’s bed, both girls chatting before conversation lapsed into sleepy yawns, and eventually quiet. Omega was vaguely aware of the door opening, and being lifted from her position on top of Lyana’s covers and held close against a warm, familiar torso.

“Kid’s tired out,” came Hunter’s voice, his usually gruff tone softened with a smile.

“Worked herself to exhaustion baking two birthday cakes,” came a snarky, sibilant reply, and Omega smiled into Hunter’s shoulder at Crosshair’s presence.

The gentle swaying motion of being carried against Hunter’s body was enough to keep her lulled at the edge of sleep, but the cool night air tugged at her consciousness to stop her dropping off completely. Omega nestled closer to Hunter’s chest and kept her eyes closed as she listened to the brothers talk.

“Omega wants her own birthday celebration,” Crosshair told Hunter after a while. He sounded dubious as he said it.

Hunter breathed a snort. “What for?”

“That’s what I said. She said we should celebrate our decanting day anniversary.”

A ripple of tension passed through Hunter’s body. Omega stilled her breath, listening to the way his heart-rate spiked. Her fingers curled a little in his scarf, and she hoped he hadn’t noticed she was awake.

“Hardly a day to celebrate,” muttered Hunter.

Omega felt them slow to a halt. She risked peeking one eye open, trying to see what was happening. Hunter was staring distantly at the dark ocean around the island, and Crosshair was stood beside him with one hand on the back of his brother’s shoulder, thumb rubbing soothingly up and down the nape of Hunter’s neck.

“You’re still here,” he murmured. The hand stilled, then squeezed his shoulder.

“Almost wasn’t,” breathed Hunter softly.

Crosshair’s voice was neutral. “I know.”

A few moments of silence. Then Hunter drew a shuddering breath and started walking again.

“So Omega wants a decanting day party.”

“Yeah.”

A short head-shake.

“I don’t know. It brings back a lot of memories.”

They stopped again. Now Omega felt herself being lifted from Hunter’s arms, before Crosshair gently laid her down on a bench.

She opened her eyes and watched as Crosshair returned to his brother, folding both arms around him and drawing him into a close embrace. Hunter buried his face in Crosshair’s shoulder, hands grabbing fistfuls of his brother’s shirt, and Cross stroked one hand through Hunter’s hair, humming soothingly.

“We’re on Pabu now,” he whispered, and Omega recognised her own words. “No more tests. For any of us.”

*

Crosshair tilted the mixing bowl towards Omega, an annoyed scowl on his face. “Is this mixed enough?”

Omega rolled her eyes and pushed the bowl back to him. “No! Look, you can still see lumps of butter, and all these sugar crystals. It has to be beaten properly.”

“What does that even mean?” growled Crosshair in annoyance.

“It means mix until smooth and fully combined,” Omega told him patiently. “When that’s done, you can add the eggs.”

“At least I’ll remember to grease the tin,” the sniper muttered as he returned to beating the mixture. Omega leaned her elbows on the counter, watching him with a smile.

“Why did you decide you wanted to learn to bake, anyway?” she asked cheerily.

An uncharacteristic flush spread across Crosshair’s cheeks and he narrowed his eyes, concentrating fully on the task in front of him. “No reason,” he said, a lie so obvious it made it hard to question.

Crosshair’s impatience was clear as Omega talked him through the rest of the recipe, including turning up the temperature on the oven in the hope that the cake would cook faster. Omega rescued the situation when she smelled the charcoal scent of burning batter, turning the oven back down and opening the door to let the curling smoke escape.

Crosshair glared at the finished cake, blackened round the edges, as it cooled on the wire rack.

“It’s awful,” he declared in annoyance.

“It’ll be fine once you cut these bits off,” said Omega, sawing at the burnt sections with a knife. “Or, you could start again–”

“This one will be fine.”

*

Crosshair tracked Hunter down to the docks, where the former sergeant was helping unload the fishing vessels as they came in. He grabbed his brother without explanation, pulling him to one side.

“What’s the matter, Crosshair?” asked Hunter, concerned, a feeling which only grew when Crosshair refused to meet his eyes.

“I made this for you,” muttered the sniper sullenly, extending a shallow card box about a foot across. Hunter took it with a puzzled look.

“Open it then,” snapped Crosshair, turning away and folding his arms. His frame was written with the kind of tension that spoke of protecting vulnerabilities, and Hunter raised his eyebrows in soft amusement.

Cracking open the box lid did nothing to ease his confusion. “You got me a cake?” he asked, then recalled his brother’s words. “You… made me a cake.”

He lifted the lid all the way off, inspecting the trimmed edges, still crusted with a small burnt sections here and there. The top of the cake had been messily iced with an uneven layer of buttercream, but on top of that in a contrasting icing colour was a very precisely piped version of his familiar half-skull tattoo.

“It’s stupid,” said Crosshair quickly, like he needed to insult his own creation before Hunter could. “But I thought…”

He trailed off, then fished a toothpick out of his pocket and chewed on it anxiously.

Hunter waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t he prompted, “What did you think, Cross?”

Crosshair huffed in annoyance, glaring out over the sea as he spoke. “It’s your decanting day,” he muttered. “I thought… maybe if I made it special, maybe if you had a cake, like a nat-born birthday… then it’d be a nicer thing for you to think about than remembering the year you were almost decommissioned.”

Hunter looked at the cake for a moment, then up at his brother, a soft smile touching the corners of his lips.

“Did you bring a knife to cut it with?”

The relieved exhale Crosshair gave released some of the tension from his frame. “You… you want to eat it?”

Hunter grinned and nudged his shoulder to his brother’s.

“Yeah,” he said, “but only if I can share it with you.”

[gaydroidd]

i'd trade it all for your sweet embrace 🖤

[cocoabubbelle-newblog]

My personal opinion

Spoilers

Marvel Writers: Hank McCoy/Beast is irredeemable. He is a despicable villain. The version you will see in the upcoming comics is a clone of himself with only up to his mid-1980s memories/portrayal. If original Beast does come back, it will still be as a villain and he can never come back to the original team as a hero. He has no one to blame but himself.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

sorry it's kind of personal, but seriously the more time goes on and the more I'm fucking baffled at how bad society is collectively at handling mental illness and neurodivergence in general because not only it's everywhere, but it's always been everywhere

and we're just so so SO goddamn awful about dealing with it

[enobariasdistrict2]

even my dad is lukewarm about his job alfjtkfhfkf. so this is what adulthood is, spending your days on a job you feel mid about or at worst hate to support your family

[icewindandboringhorror]

I find it kind of silly that so many of those "time based life rule" sayings are like ~deep serious guidelines~ of some sort, but then there's that one other Well Known Rule that's just like "hrmm can I eat something off of the ground or not"

[laneaconite]

Treatment

“Take this pill,” They say.

Take this pill and it should work

 In a month,

                    Three months,

                                            Six.

Take this pill,

And it will make you tired.

                                        They all make you tired,

Because they act on the brain, 

                                                  You see.

Take this pill,

“We’re sorry the others didn’t work.”

We will smile

                    Sympathetically.

                                                 We do care.

Take this

            Pill.

                  It will make you dizzy.

Take this

            Injection.

                           Since it is treatment resistant

Now.

It will hurt,

                 It will make you itch.

You can still keep taking the old ones,

                                                         In case they end up working

                                                                                                          Too.

Take this pill,

                      It should work in one month,

                                                                    Three months,

Six.

No, we don’t know

                               Why this is happening.

We don’t know

                     How to fix it.

Your blood screening was

                                           Normal.

Your CT scan was

                                Normal.

Take this pill.

-Lane Aconite,

March 5th, 2023

[aforeffortenjolras]

feeling like such a hot girl doing my workout i’m so strong

[moonyinpisces]

i have no desire to use tone tags nor do i need them but i feel like i have to start using them for people to understand that i'm not being a huge bitch every time i say literally anything ever

[mirainawen]

in one of our modules a few weeks back, we learned about some common obstacles to active listening and it brought up an interesting statistic about why it is so easy for our minds to wander when people talk to us

the average person can understand approximately 300 words a minute, but the average person speaks approximately 100 words a minute. we listen faster than we talk.

[bunnihearted]

🍷

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[apostate-in-an-alcove]

Remarkable how saying that everyone deserves a living wage so they can adequately support themselves is so controversial, especially among other blue collar, working class people. Deepthroating the capitalist boot and infighting won't win you anything.

[mtap-comics]

Welcome back to my Bad Things Happen Bingo!

Fandom: My time at Portia

Pairing: Arlo x Female Builder

Summary: Elenya was tired. No, scratch that. Elenya was exhausted. She didn't think she'd ever been as exhausted as she was at that moment.

Word count: 6'581

Prompt: Worked Themselves to Exhaustion

Author’s note: I'm not really sure what I have to say to this one. I had these three scenes in my head and tried to tie them into one story. Not sure I managed that that well, but I hope you enjoy this anyway!

Oh, and I'm sorry for the rushed end, but I saw how many words I had already written again and needed to stop myself.^^

Warnings: Fainting, Crying, Lots of comfort, Migraines

Read on AO3: Link

Drained by Duty

Elenya was tired. No, scratch that. Elenya was exhausted. She didn't think she'd ever been as exhausted as she was at that moment. A bad migraine had been throbbing behind her temples for hours, every muscle in her body ached, and she wasn't sure how she was even standing upright.

The last few days, or rather the last few weeks - since Ursula arrived in their little town, to be precise - had been the most exhausting she had ever experienced. 

It all started five weeks ago when Ursula hired them to build a bridge into Somber Marsh. Or rather, two bridges, as she couldn't resist building the more difficult route and leaving the easier one to Higgins.

The entire operation had cost her three weeks of continuous work, and that in winter, which this year was only reluctantly giving way to spring. So she spent most of her time either in the mines, replenishing the iron ore that was constantly running out, or behind the tree farm, assembling the parts of the bridge that had already been completed.

Alone the way from her workshop to there cost her more than an hour every day, time that she could otherwise use much more usefully. For example, to complete all the other open commissions she still had.

Every night she woke up after only a few hours of sleep - if she managed to fall asleep at all - feeling guilty that she was taking much longer than usual to complete the villagers' commissions. Just because she had a little more work to do than usual didn't mean she could leave the others in the cold!

Arlo had tried to convince her to give the urgent things to other builders, but that felt even more like failure to her than anything else. She had promised to help the people, and she would!

So every night she had slipped out of Arlo's arms to do as many commissions as she could out in the cold and sparse light of her work table.

At the thought of Arlo, a small part of her tension disappeared and her heart filled with warmth. Without him, she would probably have collapsed days ago.

They had only been married for two months, but in that short time Arlo had become an integral part of her life. And she never thought she could fall even more for this wonderful, selfless and kind man than she already did.

Every day he had made sure she ate at least two full meals a day and had at least tried to get her to sleep. And this despite the fact that he himself had a lot of extra patrols and other work imposed on him by Ursula.

She knew how concerned he was about her, that he had noticed how little she slept and how much she was exhausting herself. Knowing that had only stressed her more over the last few days, as she didn't want to add to Arlo's workload by making him look after her, but she didn't knew what to do about that. The only thing her brain was still functioning in was 'work'.

Even now she could feel his piercing, worried gaze at her back.

They were currently standing together with Ursula and Mayor Gale in the latter's office, discussing the next steps regarding All Source. Arlo stood much closer behind her than he usually did in Ursula's presence, as if he was afraid she was going to collapse at any moment, and if she was honest, he probably wasn't that far off. 

Just an hour earlier, Elenya had installed the fan that was supposed to remove the toxic gases from the ruin where the final key was located. And if she was honest, she couldn't even remember how she'd managed to do that, let alone make it back to the mayor's office. Somewhere on her way back, Arlo had picked her up and led her somewhere, no doubt very worried at her lack of response. It wasn't until Ursula showed up at the office that Elenya realised where she was.

Something about the woman's aura always made Elenya afraid to show the slightest weakness. So she stood up as straight as she could, ignoring her aching body, and tried to follow the conversation. But that quickly proved to be a futile effort. 

The migraine reared its ugly head, making it impossible for Elenya to form a single clear thought. The roaring in her ears drowned out every sound around her, and her vision kept blurring.

What was being said? She didn't know. She was sure that if Ursula hadn't been standing two metres away from her, she would have lost the strength to fight against her protesting body. It took all her willpower to keep herself upright.

How she would have liked to just lie down. Closing her eyes against her headache for just a brief moment.

Blurredly she could see how Gale apparently nodded in conclusion, as if they had come to an agreement with the plan, and shortly after Ursula's outline disappeared from her field of vision.

The click of the door echoed through the room and, like a signal to her body, the last of the strength she could muster for the meeting dissipated. The roaring in her ears took over, her eyes closed and her legs gave way. She could faintly feel strong arms catching her, but then everything went black.

~~~~~~

"Damn, I should have taken better care of her. Should have insisted on taking a break."

"This isn’t your fault Arlo. I should have done something. Especially about Ursula."

Two familiar voices filtered through to Elenya. One as warm as a roaring fire and the other full of fatherly warmth. But both full of deep concern.

What had happened?

A splitting headache kept her from focusing. It settled over her thoughts like a fog, and the two voices around her vanished into it.

She tried to turn her head in the direction of the voices, but a heavy blanket of lead lay over her, preventing her from moving a single aching muscle. For a moment, her awareness slipped away.

Then, as if out of nowhere, a soothing, cool hand touched her forehead, bringing some relief from her raging headache. The fog that clouded her thoughts lifted just a fraction.

A curse echoed beside her and more confusion spread through her. What was going on?

"Sorry about that, boss. But damn, I think she's got a decent fever too." The hand on her forehead stroked down to her cheek, and she would have liked to lean into the familiar, loving gesture, but not a muscle would stir.

"There's nothing to apologise for, Arlo. If there's a time to curse, it's at a time like this." There was a brief pause, during which the thumb on her cheek drew gentle circles in her skin. "Shall I send for Dr. Xu? I'm really worried about her."

There was another pause as the now warm hand moved back to her forehead and then gently stroked through her hair.

"No... I think she just needs a lot of rest. Dr. Xu won't be able to do much for her. I'll take care of her. Like I should have been doing for the past few days..." At the guilt-soaked words, an instinct stirred in Elenya that had become ingrained over the past few years.

What was Arlo blaming himself for again, and what could she do about it?

With difficulty, she finally managed to open her eyes. An unfamiliar ceiling appeared above her and a confused sound escaped her.

Immediately, the voices that had been talking stopped and familiar blue eyes entered her field of vision.

"Elenya! Thank God you're awake. How are you feeling?" Full of deep concern, Arlo's eyes darted over her face as a second head slid into her field of vision, which she recognised as Mayor Gale's.

So she was still in his office. Probably lying on one of the sofas against the back wall. 

"Sweetheart?" Gently, the big, rough hand went back to her cheek and turned her gaze back to Arlo. Only then did it occur to her that she had probably been staring dumbly at the mayor instead of thinking about Arlo's question. 

She struggled to find the right words, to tell him how much her head hurt and how exhausted she was, but it was difficult to form even a single clear thought. What finally escaped her lips was not at all what she had in mind.

"Cold..." 

And it was only as the word slipped from her lips that she realised it was true. A chill had taken hold of her limbs, and with the last energy her body could muster, she began to shiver.

Confused, Arlo looked at her for a moment. He probably hadn't expected to hear those words any more than she had, but then he jumped up and began to take off his jacket and then the grey sweater he was wearing underneath.

He held the sweater out to Gale.

"Can you help me dress her in this?" 

"Of course."

Confused, Elenya watched the two of them. She just couldn't follow their quick movements.

Then Arlo knelt beside her again and slid his left arm under her back. Slowly he lifted her into a sitting position, but her aching head didn't like the movement at all and she let it fall weakly against his shoulder. Soothingly, Arlo stroked her hair with his free hand.

Then a second pair of hands joined in, manoeuvring her arms into the sleeves of the sweater, and a moment later the soft, warm fabric was pulled over her head. She would have liked to help, but her muscles just wouldn't move when she told them to.

"There, now you should be warmer." Lovingly, Arlo whispered these words into her ear, and soon the warmth of the sweater reached her and mixed with his familiar, wonderful scent, a calm spread through her, causing her eyes to close.

Completely exhausted, she collapsed further into Arlo's arms, burying her face in his shoulder. More of his scent rose to her nose and she felt sleep trying to take her.

The arm around her shoulders tightened and she had expected Arlo to urge her to stay awake. Instead, warm lips pressed against her forehead and equally warm words filled her ears.

"That's it. Get some rest, darling. I'll take you home." A second arm slipped under her knees and a moment later she was in the air, pressed tightly against Arlo's chest. Unfortunately, the movement caused her head to fall off his shoulder, hanging uncomfortably backwards, but she had no strength to lift it back up.

Fortunately, she didn't have to stay like that for long, because two smaller, but just as careful hands came to the back of her head and guided it back to Arlo's shoulder. With a grateful sigh, she curled up even closer to the warm chest and let the fog in her head take over. The two voices around her blended together and soon everything went black.

~~~~~~

Elenya awoke sluggishly. She felt as if she had slept too much and too little at the same time. Her limbs were heavy, her thoughts emerged from sleep only with difficulty, and for a moment she simply lay motionless in bed.

How had she gotten here? She couldn't remember getting into bed. And where was Arlo?

Searching, she opened her eyes. The space beside her was empty. Confused, her eyes continued to wander to the clock on the wall.

10:30, it read.

For a moment she stared at the hands of the clock until the information finally reached her brain. Startled, her eyes widened.

Oh no, it was already so late! Why hadn't Arlo woken her up!? What if Ursula needed her help again? Or someone else? And what about all her open commissions?

Without her realising it, she shot up in bed, her chest heaving up and down in panic. If she hurried, maybe she could still get everything done!

Quickly, she threw off her covers and jumped out of bed. With quick steps she hurried to the door of their bedroom, but before she could reach it, a terrible pain stabbed through her head and she became dizzy. Desperately, she tried to hold on to the chair by the door, but she lost her balance more and more, and with a loud crash, the chair fell to the floor with her.

Completely disoriented, she was left on the floor. Her head was pounding like a jackhammer, and the vibrations from the hurried footsteps rushing towards her didn't help. The door to the bedroom burst open and a frantic Arlo stood in the doorway.

"Elenya!" Horrified, he threw himself on the floor in front of her and helped her to sit up. "What happened? Did you hurt yourself?" Full of concern, his eyes wandered over her body, but Elenya had no time for such questions.

She had to get up again!

Desperately, she tried to get her legs under her so that she could stand up, but her muscles began to shake and her dizziness returned, causing her to fall back to the ground. Arlo's strong arms caught her before she could hit the ground again.

"Whoa, hey! Slow down! Easy! What's going on? Elenya, calm down, please!" Panic welled up in Arlo's voice as he tried to stop her next attempt to get up. Firmly gripping both her wrists with one hand, he placed the other against her cheek, gently guiding her gaze to him.

Firmly he held her gaze.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong? Talk to me, please."

For a moment she could only stare back. Her chest was still rising and falling in panic and she could feel her heart racing in her chest. 

"I... I'm way too late. I have to... I have so much to do... And wha... what if Ursula needs me? I... I can't rest now..." Stuttering and desperate, she managed to get the words out as tears welled up in her eyes.

She couldn't take it anymore. She could feel her body reaching its limit, every single muscle aching, but she couldn't give in now. Portia still needed her.

Arlo's expression in front of her became incredibly sad and suddenly she found herself in his arms. They were still sitting on the floor, but now she was sitting sideways between his legs, his strong arms wrapped tightly around her upper body.

"Oh, sweetheart... Everything's alright. You can rest. You don't have to do anything for the next few days."

Full of sadness and love, Arlo spoke the words against her head, his cheek pressed firmly against her mop of hair and his arms tightening around her body.

She... she could rest? She didn't have to work?

An incredible relief released all the tension in her body and with it the last chance to hold back her tears. Incessantly they flowed from her eyes and seeking shelter she buried her face in Arlo's chest.

"Shh, everything is alright. You are okay. I got you." Arlo whispered softly into her ear, his strong arms keeping her from falling apart. And so she let out all the pent-up emotions and stress of the last few weeks. Cried against his chest for minutes until not a single tear was left.

In the end, her head hurt even more and exhausted she slumped in his arms. Soothingly, Arlo stroked her hair before stopping suddenly and placing his hand against her forehead.

"Oh sweetheart, I think your fever is even higher than it was yesterday. Come on, back to bed with you." Arlo pulled away from her, stood up and gently lifted her into his arms. Unfortunately, her head didn't like that at all and, overcome by terrible pain and dizziness, she buried her head in Arlo's neck with a whimper.

Immediately, Arlo stiffened beneath her and the arms around her body tightened.

"Oh no, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?" Full of concern, Arlo's voice filtered through to her through the static in her ears, but she couldn't answer. Even in the darkness of Arlo's neck, it felt like the world was spinning around her and her stomach began to churn.

With another whimper, her hand that held Arlo's T-shirt tightened.

Oh God, please don't throw up... please don't.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong? Come on, talk to me." Desperately, Arlo tried to catch a glimpse of her, but she didn't dare move a muscle. Thankfully, Arlo didn't seem to dare move her either, and after a seemingly endless minute, the world finally stopped spinning and her stomach settled.

Completely exhausted, she went limp in Arlo's strong arms, knowing that he would never let her fall. The world blurred around her and for a moment the only thing that existed was the incredible pain in her head.

Only when she suddenly felt a soft mattress and pillows beneath her did she realise that Arlo had been trying to get her attention. Full of worry and almost panicking, he leaned over her, his left hand gently rubbing her cheek. Trembling, she reached for that very hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Immediately, Arlo's shoulders slumped in relief.

"Oh, thank God. What happened? Did you hurt yourself when you fell?"

"No... My head... I think..." It took her a moment to find the right word through the pain. "Migraine."

The panic disappeared from Arlo's eyes, instead the worry deepened and he sank down on the bed beside her.

"Oh no, my poor darling. How bad is it?" He lowered his voice to a low rumble, for which she was grateful. It wasn't until there were no more loud noises that she realised how much they had hurt her head.

"Bad. Really bad." She rarely got migraines, but this one topped all the others she'd had. The vision in front of her right eye kept blurring, the soft light shining through the curtains stung her head, and she just wanted to curl up into a ball to hide from the world and the pain.

Arlo let go of the hand she was still clutching and stood up. "I don't like the sound of that. I'll just get you a cold cloth and then see if we have anything else for the pain, okay? I'll be right back." Still keeping his voice low, he planted a soft kiss on her forehead and then disappeared into the bathroom.

Elenya let her eyes fall shut. How she would have loved to just go back to sleep, to sleep away the pain, but it was that very pain that kept her from doing so. It kept penetrating her head and she felt a new flood of tears leaking from her eyes, making everything worse. But she couldn't stop them. She didn't have the strength anymore.

A soft sob broke from her throat and she heard muffled, rapid footsteps hurrying towards her. Moments later, the bed beside her lowered again and a familiar, rough hand gently wiped away her tears.

"Oh, sweetheart. It's all right. We'll fix you up." Like a warm breath, Arlo's voice brushed over her, comforting her and letting her relax a little.

"Hurts..."

"I know, darling, I know. Here, this should help a bit." Something wonderfully cold settled over her hot forehead and eyes, and almost instantly the pounding in her head calmed a little. Quivering, she took a deep breath.

"That's it. Try to breathe nice and easy. I'll just see if we have any more of Dr. Xu's medicine for your migraine, okay?"

The edge of the bed beside her rose again and Elenya tried to follow Arlo's advice. As best she could, she breathed deeply in and out, trying her best to fight the pain.

The cold cloth on her face felt wonderful, especially as it blocked the last bit of light from her eyes. Together with the controlled breathing, she actually managed to doze off and forget the pain for a moment.

Only a gentle touch to her hand brought her out of her light sleep and with a questioning sound she turned her head slightly to the left.

"Here, sweetie, this should help." The washcloth on her face was removed and for a moment she wondered how that was supposed to help, but then an arm slipped under her shoulders and slowly pulled her up. 

She was about to open her eyes when Arlo stopped her gently. "Shh, keep your eyes closed. I'll help you." Another questioning sound escaped her, but then she felt something being held to her lips. Judging by its shape, it was a small vial, and after a moment's hesitation, she opened her mouth slightly.

She knew what Arlo wanted to give her. A mixture from Dr. Xu that worked wonders for her migraines, but unfortunately tasted disgusting. According to the doctor, adding honey would counteract the effect, so there was nothing he could do about the taste.

Arlo slowly poured the liquid into her mouth, and as soon as it touched her tongue, she cringed in disgust. The taste was nearly impossible to describe. Bitter and sour at the same time. To top it off, it tasted like three day old socks smelled.

Simply disgusting. But it helped, so she forced herself to swallow the liquid and then slumped exhausted against Arlo's chest as soon as the bottle was empty.

"That's it. You'll feel better soon. Here, I've also brought you a glass of water." After a brief clinking of glasses, something new was held to her lips and she drank the refreshing water greedily. 

Relieved, she noticed that the water both washed the horrible taste out of her mouth and calmed her stomach a little at the same time.

"There you go. Drink it all down. You've been asleep for almost 16 hours, you really need to drink something. I'd prefer you to eat something too, but we'll have to wait for the painkiller to kick in first, won't we?" Still whispering softly, Arlo's words brushed gently over her.

Elenya found it difficult to follow his words. Dr. Xu's medicine had a habit of making her tired within seconds, and combined with her ongoing exhaustion and the pain in her head, the world around her began to blur.

A brief jolt ran through her body as she perceived the words "slept for 16 hours", but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. Instead, she snuggled closer to Arlo's strong chest, who was still holding her upright with one arm, and let out a sleepy murmur.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I'll make you something to eat later. Get some rest." Gently she was laid back into the pillows and after a brief splash of water the washcloth, now wonderfully cool again, was placed back on her forehead. The last thing she noticed before falling into another deep sleep was a long, tender kiss against her temple.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Arlo's heart ached as he looked down at his sleeping Elenya. The pale cheeks and deep shadows under her eyes, which he knew were hidden beneath the washcloth, were so unlike the otherwise vibrant, happy woman he had married so recently. Her desperate sobs still rang in his ears, and the memory of her collapsing in front of him would haunt him for a long time.

If only he had taken better care of her.

He knew how much she had built, farmed and fought over the last few weeks, and that she had barely slept at night, but he simply didn't knew how to help her. He couldn't do the building for her, nor all the tasks Ursula had given her. Not that he didn't try, but he quickly realised that Ursula was not to be trifled with.

Gale also felt that there was something wrong with this woman, but neither of them could put their finger on it, so they decided to play along for the time being. With whatever it was.

The only thing he could do for Elenya was to make her eat breakfast and dinner and pull her into bed with him late at night, even if he woke up alone in it in the morning.

But now, thanks to Gale, they had three days of undisturbed time in which he could nurse his little builder back to health. Never again would he allow her to work herself to exhaustion. No matter who he had to fight.

With one last lingering kiss to her temple, he left the bedroom as quietly as he could, picking up the overturned chair as he went, and retreated to their kitchen. He would have felt much better if Elenya had eaten something now, but he also knew how nauseous her migraine made her, and she wouldn't have been able to keep anything down anyway. So he settled for preparing her a sustaining soup for later and hoping that she would be able to keep it down.

And so the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon passed very slowly for him. He tried to distract himself with paperwork, but his anxious thoughts kept wandering back to his sick builder and eventually he gave up and slipped back into the bedroom.

Elenya was still lying there as he had left her, which was just further proof of her exhaustion. She hadn't even turned her head, so the washcloth was still untouched on her forehead and eyes. By now it was completely warmed by her feverish forehead, so he filled the basin he had left on her bedside table with fresh, cold water, pulled the chair to the edge of the bed and then dipped the warm washcloth into the cool water.

Wringing out the excess water, he gently wiped Elenya's face with it before placing it back on her forehead. A soft sigh escaped her lips and with a gentle smile, Arlo watched her sleep. He regularly dipped the washcloth back into the cold water as soon as it got too warm, and each time Elenya relaxed more.

He would have to take her temperature later when she was awake. The cold washcloth seemed to help her, but if it was too high, he would have to resort to one of Dr. Xu's tinctures. Too high a fever would only prevent her from getting the rest she needed.

He didn't know how long he sat there like that, watching over her sleep, but just as he had freshly soaked the washcloth and then gently clasped her hand in his, it twitched in his and a soft moan escaped her. Instantly he straightened up more and watched her face intently.

"Elenya, sweetheart, are you awake?" Tense, he watched as her eyelids fluttered a few times before her eyes opened completely. Confused, she looked up at the ceiling and Arlo hurried to stand up and lean over her.

As soon as her eyes caught his, a slight smile formed on her lips, easing a small part of his worry.

Her smile always managed to put him at ease.

"Hey." Tenderly, he returned her smile. "How are you feeling? How's your head?"

Her attempt to answer him came only as a croak from her throat and he quickly reached for the glass of water he had already refilled and placed on the bedside table. Gently, he lifted her head slightly and held the glass to her lips. 

The glass emptied quickly and, pleased that Elenya had drunk so much again, he put it back and then looked at her expectantly.

After a quiet clearing of her throat, her soft voice finally sounded. "As if I'd been run over by a dee dee. But my head is better. It's just everything else that hurts now."

"That must be the fever. You've really overexerted yourself. But don't worry, I'll take care of you." Arlo's heart swelled with love and concern as he watched Elenya struggle with her weakened state. Gently, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead.

"You've been pushing yourself too hard, sweetheart," he said, his voice filled with concern. "I know how much you care about the town and its people, but you can't help anyone if you don't take care of yourself."

Elenya managed a weak smile as she looked up at him. "I just... didn't want to let anyone down."

Arlo leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "You could never let anyone down, Elenya. You're Portia's heart and soul. But you have to promise me that you'll take it easy from now on."

She nodded, her eyes filled with gratitude. "I promise."

Gratefully, he kissed her softly on the lips and then moved on to something else that was just as important to him.

"I have made some soup for you. Would you like some? You haven't eaten for almost 24 hours and I'm sure you'll feel better with something in your stomach." He watched Elenya carefully, hoping that her nausea had passed and she would agree. And to his relief, she did.

With a grateful smile, she nodded at him and then tried to sit up, as if she wanted to get up. But her attempt to push herself up with her arms didn't go well and halfway through her muscles gave way.

"Woah hey, what are you doing?"

Arlo quickly caught her and looked down at her with concern.

"Getting up." Came as a hoarse, quiet reply while she leaned her head exhaustedly against his chest.

"Oh no, you're not. You stay nice and comfy in bed and rest. Here." With one arm holding Elenya tightly against his chest, he used his free hand to reach for his own blanket and puff it up behind Elenya so she could lean against it. With ease he pulled her up a little higher until she could sit comfortably.

Satisfied with his work, he straightened up and laughed softly at the pout that had formed on Elenya's lips.

"There, you stay here and I'll heat up some soup for you, okay?" Arlo pulled Elenya's blanket back up to her shoulders when he saw that she was shivering slightly and pressed a gentle kiss against her warm forehead to placate her a little.

With a surrendering sigh, Elenya nodded and snuggled a little deeper into the blankets surrounding her.

Glad that Elenya was willing to listen to him, he quickly made his way to the kitchen to heat up a plate of soup for her. He also filled a glass with juice, hoping the extra vitamins would help her get back on her feet more quickly. Loading everything onto a tray, he brought the items to Elenya and placed it on her lap.

"Here, sweetheart, this should make you feel better. Do you need help eating?" Tenderly, he met her indignant gaze at his words, but it soon became apparent that they were not unfounded.

Determined, she reached for the spoon and dipped it into the soup, but her whole arm shook so much that the soup fell right back into the plate. He let her try three times, her expression growing increasingly frustrated, before he stopped her.

Gently, Arlo grabbed the hand holding the spoon and took it from her.

"Let me help you, sweetheart. Please." He looked at her as gently and openly as he could, reassuring her that he didn't think she was weak, and after a while she finally complied.

"Okay."

"Thank you." 

Pleased that she was letting him help, he pulled the chair a little closer to the bed, sat down and began to feed Elenya the soup spoon by spoon. It wasn't long before both the plate and the glass of juice were empty, and satisfied that she had eaten so much, Arlo set the tray down on the floor.

Elenya's eyes were already closed again when he turned back, and he hurried to remove the blanket from behind her back and gently lay her back down into the pillows. He had just sat down again when her eyes half opened again and looked at him tiredly.

"Thank you, Arlo." Coupled with her warm smile, those words filled him with love and he couldn't help but press another long kiss to her lips.

"Anytime. I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too." With a happy smile, her eyes closed again, but it seemed she couldn't find rest. Worried, Arlo put his hand to her forehead to see if her fever had risen any further, but as far as he could tell it was unchanged.

Her eyes struggled to open at his touch and he looked at her with concern.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Do you need anything else? Do you have a headache again?"

"No, it's just... can you hold me for a while, please? I'm really not feeling well." Tears welled back up in her eyes and Arlo's heart broke again at the sight.

"Of course, darling."

He quickly stripped off his uncomfortable jeans and joined her in bed. Carefully, so as not to hurt her, he pulled her towards him until her head rested on his chest, just above his heart. He wrapped his arms tightly around her upper body and intertwined his legs with hers, hoping to give her a sense of security. As long as she was in his arms, nothing could happen to her.

And indeed, it didn't take long after that for Elenya's breathing to slow down. Relieved that she was now getting some more sleep, he enjoyed the feel of Elenya's small body in his arms and, to his surprise, dozed off for a few hours himself.

~~~~~~

It was already dark when Arlo awoke from his light sleep. By the looks of it, he too had needed a few hours of extra rest.

Elenya was still sleeping peacefully in his arms, her head still directly over his heart, and for a while he watched her tenderly. Unfortunately, his bladder soon made its presence known, so he carefully pulled away from her and slid out of bed.

As Arlo moved around the room, he couldn't help but cast a loving glance back at Elenya, asleep and peaceful. He knew she needed this rest and it eased his worries about her health.

He quickly did his business in the bathroom, put on an old pair of sweatpants so he wouldn't have to walk around in his underwear, and then went into their living room.

However, just as he was about to step into the kitchen to prepare some herbal tea, a sudden, heart-wrenching scream that sounded a lot like his name pierced the silence of the evening. Arlo's heart leaped into his throat, and he rushed back to the bedside, nearly stumbling in his haste.

"Elenya! Sweetheart, wake up!" Arlo called out, his voice filled with panic. He gently shook her shoulder, trying to rouse her from the nightmare.

Elenya's eyes snapped open, and she gasped for breath, her body trembling with fear. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she clung desperately to Arlo, as if he were her lifeline.

"Shh, it's okay," Arlo whispered, his voice soothing. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, as she continued to tremble. "It was just a dream, Elenya. I'm right here. You're safe."

It took a while for Elenya's sobs to subside, her emotions still fragile from the stress of the past weeks. Arlo held her through it all, murmuring comforting words and pressing kisses to her forehead.

Once she had calmed down, Elenya buried her face in Arlo's chest, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. "I... I dreamt that you were gone," she whispered, her voice quivering.

Arlo's heart ached at her words, and he tightened his embrace. "I'm right here, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

For a moment he wondered if the sudden lack of his heartbeat under her ear was the cause of her nightmare, but decided not to think about it any further. That would not help him right now.

Elenya was still clinging desperately to him and isolated sobs escaped her. "There... there was so much blood and... that awful laugh..." Her voice broke with every other word and Arlo was afraid she was going to cry again.

"Shh, it's alright. I'm here. It was just a dream." Gently he rocked her back and forth, but she wasn't finished yet.

"It was him... That mysterious knight... He... he killed you."

At those words, everything inside Arlo tightened painfully. Subconsciously, he tightened his arms around Elenya even more and curled around her, shielding her from the world.

The mysterious knight had been a looming threat in their lives, a shadow that refused to leave, and he knew how much she feared him. Ever since their first encounter a few months ago and the realisation that neither of them could really do anything to counter him. And he didn't blame her. If he was honest, he was also afraid of the next encounter. 

But unlike him, she was still primarily a builder, not a fighter. Of course, she could easily keep up with them in combat, but that didn't mean her heart could. 

In all the years he had been fighting for the Civil Corps, he had seen and experienced quite a bit, and he was glad that his sweet, loving Elenya had been spared this so far. But now such things hit her all the harder, and he wished nothing more than to be able to protect her from all the evil in the world.

He pulled her a tiny bit closer to him until there was not a bit of air left between them and pressed a long kiss to the mop of her hair.

"It was only a dream. I'm here. Everything's going to be all right. We'll get through this. Together."

He didn't know how long they sat there like that, ignoring the cramp in his back from his twisted position and just concentrating on holding Elenya tightly in his arms. She was still trembling slightly and her tight grip on his t-shirt had not yet loosened, so he continued to rock her gently from side to side and whisper comforting words into her ear.

Eventually, though, her tense posture relaxed and she sagged in his arms. A low murmur sounded against his chest, but the words were too faint to make out, so he pushed Elenya slightly away from him and gently lifted her face.

Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, dark shadows still under them, and yet his heart swelled with adoration at the sight of her. Gently, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"What was that, sweetheart?"

"Thank you Arlo and... sorry. I didn't mean to..." A soft hiccup interrupted her and he hurried to immediately dispel her thoughts.

"Hey shh, there's nothing to apologise for. I'm always here for you, just like you're always there for me." Arlo kissed her again, gently, but with a promise to always support her. Only when they needed to catch their breath did he pull away, gently wiping away the last traces of her tears.

With a happy sigh, she leaned into his gentle touch, her eyes only half open again, her emotional outburst taking its toll on what little energy she had managed to replenish.

"Everything will be alright. I know it."