WARNING FOR VOMIT/PTSD MENTIONS
   Sitting alone in the dim lighting of the bar served as small lonely comfort to the reluctant bartender in attendance. The day was slow with him mindlessly shuffling his cards around and nursing several bottles of alcohol while Charlie blabbed about her dreams and how to achieve them with the hotel. Now, everyone had gone to their rooms for the night except him. Zoning in and out with mindless drinking had him only a little tipsy. By two in the morning he had registered that he should probably go to bed as wellâŚ.. Or just sleep on the bar. Nah, maybe not this time. Whenever he did that he was rudely awoken by Al or someone else with a scolding. He decided that heâd go to his room.Â
   âFuck!â he hissed when he finally moved. His body cracked every which way from the sudden movement, but that wasnât the concerning part; he was hurting in his gut. It really hurt and was very sudden. He held his alcohol well and it was now he noted that the pounding headaches usually came after drinking. Trying to shake it off, he went upstairs to his room.Â
   He didnât care what room he had so long as he could drink; however the sudden twisting in his upper abdomen prevented him from wanting to dive into that random whiskey bottle. Again, trying to shake whatever the feeling was, he crawled into bed and did his best to sleep it off. It normally didnât take long to get comfortable, hell he never even paid attention to comfort! Tossing and turning was what he was left with tonight, and boy did it puzzle him. Lying on either side gave him an annoying pressure that he couldnât quite place, on his back only made him feel nauseous while face down just wasnât comfortable in general and he couldnât breathe well. Finally, he grew pissed and swung his legs over the bed holding his head in his hands.Â
   âFuck is wrong in there?â he asked himself. Softly placing a paw over his stomach he ran his claws through the fur on his head. Sitting upright made his guts flip and he let out a pathetic groan. Why was it hurting? He didnât think he had eaten anything out of the ordinary, he didnât remember what he ate in all honesty. He just wasnât hungry. He took a few deep breaths and swallowed a little before lying back down on the bed. Like it did any fucking good. Another 30 minutes of rustling around in his bed he shot up like a bullet and eyed the broken trash can in the corner of the room. He looked away, remembering what a former soldier told him when he went overseas during his human life.Â
âIf you think about it, it will happen.âÂ
Donât think about it. Donât think about it. Donât think about it. Fuck it.Â
He got up and moved to one of the public restrooms down the hall; in not caring about his room, he failed to recognize that Alastor gave him the one without a bathroom. Each step had him sweating and at one point he even needed to stop and take a pause for the sake of not ruining the rug and waking everyone up. He heard a door creak open.Â
He immediately straightened himself out and tried to look normal. Footsteps sounded, trying to be as soft as possible. Were thoseâŚ.pink slipper boots? They were, and who better to own them than Angel Dust. Now he really needed to act normal!Â
âOh, hey Kitten! What you doing here?â Angel softly purred as he caught eye.Â
âMinding my own business bitch, take a lesson.âÂ
âNah that donât pay well. Wassup? You look like a shit had a shit.âÂ
He rolled his eyes, âThanks.âAngel cocked his head and stared at Husk, he looked green in the white of his fur and the grey was duller. Was that sweat? âWhat are you doing up anyway?âÂ
âWell I got the day off tomorrow and I planned on stocking up on some junk food Veggie keeps hidden.âÂ
âIsnât it Vaggie?âÂ
âWhatever just go away.âÂ
Angel huffed, âYouâre clearly sick though.âÂ
âNo Iâm fucking not, just mind your own fucking business for once instead of barging in and ruining everyone!â his stomach clenched which left Husk fighting every muscle in his body from grabbing it and doubling over.Â
For a brief moment, Angel dropped, but picked right back up. âCome on. Let me help ya. Itâs a sad sight right here, kinda funny too.âÂ
âCanât you take no for an answer? I thought whores understood rejection?âÂ
Okay, that stung a little. âDid you drink perfume or some shit?Â
âWhy donât-â Husk took a pause, his stomach was churning. It hurt and he felt the acid creep up his throat. He could swallow only so much. â-you...fuck.â
âHusk?â Angel had a soft spot for the cat, he was hot and gave him drinks! He also knew what it was like to be under an overlord. They had talked about it one night. âHey man you good?â Angelâs voice was like water: garbled and incoherent. Husk lurched and clasped a hand over his mouth. He pushed Angel away and dashed to the bathroom. Tossing a stall door open, he crashed to the ground and began to heave. The stomach inside him contracted, but after his second unproductive heave did he finally manage to bring something up. He coughed and spat out more of whatever had caused this. He slightly jumped when he felt a soft pair of hands rub up and down his back, another set massaging his wings that tensed up every time he puked or gagged, the last set of Angelâs arms kept his ears back while rubbing the nape. He didnât even have the energy to push him away.Â
âThere ya go kitten. Easy.â Angel softly soothed. Husk gagged and brought up more vomit into the toilet, coughing and sputtering. He thought his head was about to burst, the throb was so painful. Another wave of vomit, this time with tears mixing in. He spat the remainder into the bowl.Â
âUgh, fuck.â he grit his teeth and tried to even his ragged breathing. An arm draped across the toilet, one was positioned carefully on his stomach. He had forgotten what it felt like to be so sick, the last time was when he had food poisoning in a camp somewhere. He had also forgotten that this was literal HELL. In hell, everything bad was doubled. Broken leg meant worse pain and longer heal. Stabbed? Well youâd heal faster but it would still hurt like no other. And sick? Well if anyone got sick in Hell it lasted longer than it would a breathing human. Part of punishment. Husk reached up to flush the contents down and placed his head on the cool toilet lid.Â
âAre you done kitten?âÂ
All that strain made Husk lethargic and apathetic. He no longer cared about what happened, that was fucking horrible. He just wanted the bad feelings gone.Â
Angel helped Husk stand on his feet and had him rinse his mouth out in the sink as quickly as possible. They left the bathroom and went further down the hall.Â
âWhere am I going?â Husk asked.Â
Husk tried to push Angel away, âWhy?âÂ
âIt has a bathroom inside, yourâs donât. You also canât spend all night in a public bathroom. Plus you can barely stand as it is. Donât act as if Charlie wouldnât have my head for not doing a thing.âÂ
Husk wanted to throw Angel onto the ground and run back to his room so he could curl up and die again alone. Nah. That wasnât going to happen and he knew it, the muscles and energy had all gone into making him feel like shit and left him walking on a tightrope with a tilting wheel above him. When the two arrived in the room, Husk wasnât all surprised by the look of it. A stripper pole, soft furniture, different shades of pink and black, of course a vanity covered with makeup and a shelf of sex toys. He rolled his eyes.Â
âMention this to anyone and you can kiss all the booze in the world goodbye you fucking pest.âÂ
âDaw~ for me only Husky? Donât mention it. Iâll tell Cha youâre sick and too drunk to tell whose room is whose. Iâll say I tried to throw ya out but you wouldnât budge. Sound good?âÂ
Husk had crawled onto Angelâs bedsheets, mmmâŚ. warm and soft. He didnât even reply to whatever the spider said, the sheets and mattress felt amazing, he started to purr and it was only when he caught Angel smiling down at him did he realize the situation. Shit! What the fuck am I doing? He made a sorry attempt to get out of the bed, he knew the slut would talk and heâd be humiliated. He didnât want things to be worse than they already were. Quickly jumping off the bed made him double over in pain as a giant cramp rolled through his abdomen.Â
   âHey, watch yourself. I ainât gonna tell anyone, I learned from Pa that snitches get ditches at five years old.âÂ
   âMaybe when youâre better. Letâs go, come on! Back to bed kitten.â Angel guided Husk back into the bed, he noticed that his gut looked tense, he could practically see the muscles cramped up through the fur. âJesus youâre tense.âÂ
   âI know. Now shut up. Whyâre you even helping me dumbass?âÂ
   âYou remind me a lot of my sis when sheâd get sick. Iâd always be the caretaker and sheâd be mine. Sheâd fight me tooth and nail until I gave her something comfortable, then sheâd melt like Mamaâs garlic butter. Just a nice nostalgia feeling I guess. Besides, maybe youâll owe me?â he ended with a tease of course, but after a warning glare from Husk, he backed down. âIâm kidding! Jeez! Here, just get on the bed, Iâll even rest away from ya.âÂ
   The bed felt amazing and warm, and it didnât smell horrible in this room either. Angel had even been so kind as to place a bucket right next to him in case his stomach decided to abuse him again. Zoning back in, he realized that Angel had gotten into the bed and put considerable distance between them. Another cramp seized Huskâs body and he curled in harder on himself. He felt a gag coming on and groaned when he had to drag the bucket closer to his face.
   Angel glanced over at the bartender and felt a pang of sympathy. He placed a hand over Huskâs back and tried to massage the muscles that were bulging out. Thankfully they did relax as Husk threw up again into the can. He felt a lot warmer than normal? Angel had no idea what the temperature for a cat was let alone a demonic one. He could only guess it was a fever high enough to cause discomfort. After throwing up the remainder of vomit from his mouth, Husk rinsed with the warm bottle of water Angel had sitting next to him (unopened) and then plopped back down on the bed softly panting. The spider stopped rubbing his back in order to take care of the bucket; the cat needed to bite back a whimper from the loss of comfort while the cramping came back. He felt ashamed when he let pained moans come from his throat when he wrapped his paws around his middle.Â
   âThink ya got a stomach bug which means you got about four days until itâs gone.âÂ
   âMolly liked it when I rubbed her back or stomach.â
Husk rattled as a shiver blew past him. Angel pulled the covers over his body. âDonât fucking try anything or Iâll poison your drinks.âÂ
âPlease, a whore may know a lot about rejection, but they know more about consent and roofies.âÂ
Angel shifted to where one set of hands massaged the back and only one hand went over Huskâs stomach, the other was used to scroll through his phone. Within minutes, the cat was out like a light and purring louder than a racecar. Angel smiled and snuck a picture or eight. When he started to feel a little drowsy, he noticed that Husk had moved in a way that made it to where Angel was basically holding him sideways. CUTE! A few more pictures saved onto his phone and he was set to sleep. His rest may have only lasted an hour or two since he was woken up by Husk bolting up to vomit. The cycle was repeated until there was literally nothing in his stomach. Angel continued to rub his stomach.Â
   Come morning, Husk awoke to the sound of rustling. âFuck is that?â he mumbled.Â
   âSorry babe! Just gotta get Fat Nuggets some food and then a walk, itâll be thirty minutes. Charlie knows about the story I told her last night.âÂ
   âFuck you what did you tell her!â Husk reared up with his wings fluffed up and defensive mode on. If only he looked as threatening; truth be told it looked more like a tiny kitten was trying to roar like a lion. Angel couldnât help but laugh.Â
   âRelax, I told her you got sick last night and were too drunk to notice you were in the wrong room. I told her moving you wasnât an option and said you tried to claw my normal eye out. She said sheâd give you the next three days off and sent up some âget wellâ shit.â he gestured over to the nightstand next to the cat. Placed on the tray was a set of medications that would barely do anything, but it was better than nothing. After vomiting all night, the waters she gave him looked amazing.
   âDo you wanna try to eat?â Angel asked.Â
   A baby gag, âUgh fuck that.âÂ
   Angel walked over and placed a hand on Huskâs forehead, almost astounded that he didnât wack him back. âDefinitely certain you got a rising fever.âÂ
   âIn Hell, wow.âÂ
   Most of the day was nothing new. Charlie put Angel on caretaker duty (much to Vaggieâs concern) just to make things easier. Hopefully. It gave Angel bonus points, Husk got taken care of, Angel out of the way, the place would be quiet. In honesty, while Husk reminded him a lot of his sister when she was feeling down, he also wanted a chance to get closer to the cat. He was curious and also bored. Kinda wanted something to do. Being a sex worker meant that he had to care and cater to whatever the clients wanted, this time it was for something nonsexual. Sure he enjoyed sex, but it was nice to do something other than it. His day off would otherwise be spent wandering around and getting into trouble. Not looking to get chewed out was his aim.Â
   âShit babe how do you still have something inside you?âÂ
   âIâm not *huurk* babe you himbo.â Husk retorted with a pathetic spit. âFuck. This is worse than when the boat was on the sea towards the battleâŚ.âÂ
   âBattle? What battle?âÂ
   Whether it was the increased fever or what, Husk had no idea, but he had seen this many times before. Back in the war, not knowing which battle. He was instructed to shoot whatever came that wasnât wearing US Military garb. A rustle among the trees, he turned, saw uncovered skin and lanky build. They were carrying something. A bomb? He shot at them straight in the head and they fell. Crying could be heard, but the person was dead, he went to inspect whatever was the sound and his heart dropped when he saw it was a toddler. The child ran towards him and then fell over as a fellow soldier shot them down. He turned and threw up right there, crying and praying it wasnât real and apologizing over and over.
   PTSD WAR FLASHBACK TW OVER
âHusk, hey, it isnât real. Whatever you seeinâ ainât real. It ainât real right now.âÂ
Husk snapped his head back at Angel hyperventilating with wide eyes and then quickly bent over the fresh bucket that was being held in front of him. He gagged and spit and heaved and threw up whatever left he could. All the medicine, water, one single bite of toast was all gone; even then he still tried to bring up something until he was reduced to dry heaving.Â
âHey now, in and out. Breath in, then out. There ya go. Va bene (itâs okay in Italian).âÂ
It took a while, but Husk was back on track, the fever had definitely spiked and now he was experiencing shellshock again. â-ter.âÂ
His throat had been puked raw by the acid he could barely speak, but Angel managed to understand what he said and gave him an uncapped water bottle which he gratefully gulped down.Â
âHey go slow or youâll-â the water didnât stay in his stomach, â- puke it back up. Baby sips.âÂ
By the time the bucket was cleaned out, Husk was cared for and Angel got him as comfy as he could, he noticed that the cat was clingy when he was sick. Angel was the big spoon whether Husk knew or not. Belly rubs and back massages felt great after the whole ordeal. Unfortunately, he had three more PTSD episodes after that.Â
âI gotta go to work or Valâll have my head!â Angel sighed, trying to pull his many limbs out of the catâs grip.Â
Husk had reached his peak in the fever and acted like a kitten starved for attention. Angel knew sick clingy people made some of the best and worst patients depending on the situation. Eventually, the spider managed to pry the other off and set on for work where he spent the day modeling and having only one film session with a guy that loved being stepped on. He managed to avoid any conflict with the film crew and Val, so he finally left early with an abundance of praise. Quick and easy! Once he was back in the hotel, he went straight to his room where he found Husk sleeping bent over an empty bucket with fresh tear tracks along his matted fur lines. Angel gently shook him awake.Â
âRise and shine moonpie! Get your head out of the bucket.â
Husk blinked up at the spider and turned away into the blankets. âNot now.âÂ
âWell you can either lay your head in a horrible position that is sure to rattle yer neck to bits and pieces or you can-â
âAngel. I-....Can-â Husk was really struggling with what he was about to say next. âCan youâŚ. rub my head a little?â he asked shyly.Â
Faster than a bullet, Angel was right there getting to pet the cat, he was amazed at how soft the fur was. Of course it was to make him feel better. âThink youâre stomach wants to stay inside ya?âÂ
Husk did not throw up anymore after that night; by the time the four days were over, he pushed Angel away and got himself sorted out. He hated to admit that the spider was a good caretaker, and he would be a liar if he said he wasnât comfy (sometimes) during the stay in Angelâs room. Once he was back working the bar, he handed Angel a free drink.Â
âOh really Husk! Thank you!âÂ
Angel winked at him and understood. The drink was a thank you, and he was happy to oblige. The two carried on a calmer setting around each other now. Husk still grumpy as could be, but with more sarcasm towards Angel rather than pure annoyance 100% of the time.Â
Oh my Lord you can tell where I gave up trying to write good. My brain was absolutely dead. But I've noticed there's a lack of sickfics in this fandom so I'm deciding to fix that as best I can. I haven't written in a long time so I am sooooo rusty. Oh well. â¤ď¸â¤ď¸