#nausea

when you finally came back out, you looked exhausted. your eyes were glossy, your face was pale, and you looked like you could fall asleep standing up.

rudo didn't even bother asking if you were okay because the answer was obvious. instead, he gently grabbed your hand and led you back to the couch before piling every blanket he could find over you.

when you tried telling him you were fine, he gave you a look that clearly said he wasn't buying it.

for the rest of the day, he stayed close without making a big deal out of it. every time your water bottle got low, somehow it was full again. every time you shifted uncomfortably, he adjusted the blanket.

every time another wave of nausea hit and you squeezed your eyes shut, he quietly rubbed circles against your back until it passed. he wasn't someone who always knew the perfect thing to say, but he hated seeing you suffer through it alone.

later that night, you were laying with your head against his shoulder when another wave of nausea rolled through your body.

you immediately tensed, letting out a miserable groan as you buried your face against him. rudo looked down at you and sighed softly before wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"this is stupid," he muttered. "you shouldn't have to feel like this every month." there was genuine frustration in his voice, like he was angry on your behalf because there wasn't anything he could punch or fix to make it go away.

eventually exhaustion won over the nausea. you could barely keep your eyes open anymore, your body drained from feeling sick all day.

rudo carefully helped you into bed before climbing in beside you, making sure you were comfortable before settling down himself. even after you fell asleep, he kept an arm around your waist, occasionally checking to make sure you were resting peacefully.

if you woke up feeling sick again during the night, all you had to do was move a little closer and he would immediately wake up enough to rub your back and stay with you until the feeling eased.

𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍

the nausea hit you halfway through the day while you were out with enjin, and at first you genuinely thought you could push through it.

you kept insisting you were okay, forcing little smiles whenever he asked if something was wrong, but enjin knew you too well for that.

he noticed how you kept going quiet in the middle of conversations, how you looked slightly green every time a strong smell passed by, and how your grip on his sleeve seemed tighter than usual.

eventually, the smell from a nearby food stand made your stomach churn so badly that you stopped walking altogether. one second you were beside him, and the next you had your eyes squeezed shut while trying to keep yourself from getting sick. enjin immediately turned around, concern replacing his usual relaxed smile.

"baby?" he asked softly, stepping closer. "hey, what's wrong?" when you finally admitted your period was making you nauseous, his expression immediately softened.

the second he realized how bad you felt, whatever plans he had for the day were forgotten. he didn't care about errands, meetings, or anything else. all he cared about was getting you somewhere comfortable.

before you could even protest, he slipped an arm around your shoulders and guided you away from the crowds. every few steps he glanced down to make sure you weren't getting worse, and every time you looked like another wave of nausea was hitting, his hand rubbed reassuringly against your arm.

by the time you got home, you looked completely drained. the moment you sat down on the couch, you curled into yourself with a miserable groan. enjin disappeared for a few minutes before returning with water, crackers, a trash can beside the couch just in case, and enough blankets to bury you under.

"there," he said proudly as he tucked another blanket around your legs. "maximum comfort."

despite feeling awful, you couldn't help laughing a little. "you're doing too much."

"impossible," enjin replied immediately. "i could be doing way more."

and honestly, he could. every few minutes he was checking on you again, asking if you needed anything, if your stomach felt any better, if the room was too warm, if you wanted fresh air, if you wanted him to stop talking, if you wanted him to keep talking.

the concern was almost ridiculous, but it made your chest feel warm even while your stomach felt terrible.

later that evening, you were laying with your head in his lap while he gently played with your hair. another wave of nausea rolled through you, making your face scrunch up instantly. enjin noticed right away.

his hand immediately moved to your forehead while the other continued stroking your hair. "still bad?" he asked quietly. when you nodded, he frowned.

"i hate this," you muttered. "i just want it to stop."

for a moment, enjin didn't joke around or try to make you laugh. instead, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead.

"i know, sweetheart," he murmured. "but until it does, i'm staying right here."

and he meant it. even hours later when you were half asleep and still feeling queasy, he stayed curled beside you on the couch, letting you steal all the blankets and practically use him as a pillow.

every time you shifted closer, he automatically wrapped an arm around you, quietly reminding you that you didn't have to suffer through it by yourself.

𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

you had been feeling sick since the morning, and by the afternoon you were completely miserable. not because of cramps, but because it felt like your stomach had decided to betray you.

every smell was too strong, every movement made you dizzy, and no matter how much water you drank, the nausea refused to leave. you spent most of your day curled up on the couch with your eyes closed, trying not to think about how awful you felt.

tamsy noticed almost immediately. not because you told him, but because you weren't paying attention to him.

normally, you would react whenever he appeared, whether it was annoyance, suspicion, or some sarcastic comment, but today you barely looked at him. he found you laying under a blanket, staring blankly at the wall, and narrowed his eyes. that alone was enough to tell him something was wrong.

"you look dead."

"thank you."

"that wasn't a compliment."

"i figured."

instead of leaving, he stayed exactly where he was. when you explained that your period was making you nauseous, he simply stared at you for a few seconds.

his expression didn't change much, but he looked strangely annoyed by the information, like he was personally offended that something was making you feel this bad.

a little while later, you tried standing up to get yourself a drink. the second you got to your feet, the room spun. you grabbed the nearest surface to steady yourself, squeezing your eyes shut.

before you could lose your balance completely, a hand caught your arm. when you opened your eyes, tamsy was already there. you weren't even sure how he moved so fast. "sit back down," he said. "you look like you're about to fall over."

you hated listening to him, but you hated feeling nauseous more. with a grumble, you sat back down. somehow a glass of water appeared beside you a few minutes later. you never saw him get it.

he simply placed it in front of you and acted like he hadn't done anything at all. when you thanked him, he immediately looked offended. "don't make it weird."

later that evening, someone nearby started cooking dinner. the smell drifted through the room and immediately made your stomach churn. you pressed a hand over your mouth and buried your face into a pillow, groaning miserably.

tamsy looked from you to the kitchen before standing up without a word. he disappeared for a few minutes, and when he came back, the smell was gone.

you had absolutely no idea what he did, and judging by the slight smile on his face, you weren't sure you wanted to know.

by nighttime, you were exhausted. feeling sick all day had drained every bit of energy from your body. you were laying across the couch with your eyes half closed when another wave of nausea rolled through you. immediately, your body tensed.

tamsy looked up from the book he had been pretending to read and noticed right away. despite acting uninterested all day, he had apparently been paying attention to everything.

without saying much, he moved closer and rested a hand against your shoulder. the touch was surprisingly gentle coming from him.

"still sick?" he asked quietly. when you nodded, he clicked his tongue in annoyance. not at you, but at the situation itself.

for a moment, neither of you said anything. the room stayed quiet except for the sound of your breathing. then, unexpectedly, tamsy reached over and brushed a loose strand of hair away from your face.

the gesture was so natural that it almost caught you off guard. when he noticed you staring, he immediately frowned.

"what?"

"...nothing."

"good."

even so, he didn't move his hand away.

your eyes grew heavier and heavier until you could barely keep them open. as you drifted off to sleep, you vaguely felt a blanket being adjusted around your shoulders.

the last thing you saw before falling asleep completely was tamsy sitting nearby, watching over you with that familiar smile on his face, though for once it looked less unsettling and more quietly concerned than he would ever admit out loud.

𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐊𝐔

you and zanka were supposed to be training together that afternoon, but the moment you stepped onto the training grounds, you knew it was a bad idea.

your stomach had been unsettled since you woke up, and every bit of movement only made it worse. still, you were determined to push through it. unfortunately, after only a few minutes, the nausea became so overwhelming that you had to stop completely, one hand pressed against your stomach while you focused on not getting sick.

zanka immediately noticed. he was the type to catch small changes before anyone else did, especially when it came to you. at first he thought you were injured, but when he saw how pale you looked, his expression shifted.

"what's wrong?" he asked, walking over. when you tried brushing it off, he gave you a look that made it clear he wasn't falling for it.

after enough questioning, you finally admitted that your period was making you nauseous. zanka blinked once before letting out a sigh through his nose.

not because he was annoyed with you, but because he already knew what was coming next—you were going to keep insisting you were fine when you clearly weren't. sure enough, not even five minutes later, you tried picking up your weapon again.

"absolutely not."

"i can still train."

"you can barely stand."

"that's dramatic."

"you almost walked into a wall."

"..."

"exactly."

before you could argue further, another wave of nausea rolled through you. your face immediately scrunched up as you grabbed the nearest bench for support.

zanka was beside you before you could even process it, one hand steadying your shoulder. his grip wasn't forceful, just enough to keep you balanced while you waited for the feeling to pass.

once he was sure you weren't about to fall over, he guided you toward a shaded area away from the rest of the training grounds.

you complained the entire way there, insisting you could manage on your own, but zanka ignored every word. by now he knew when to listen and when not to. this was definitely one of those times.

the two of you ended up sitting beneath a tree, away from the noise and movement. you rested your head against the trunk while trying to keep your stomach settled. for a while, neither of you spoke. zanka simply stayed beside you, letting the quiet do its job. he knew you well enough to understand that sometimes talking only made things worse.

eventually, you leaned your head against his shoulder with a tired sigh. you hadn't meant to. it just happened. for a second, you expected him to tease you about it.

he adjusted slightly so you could get more comfortable.

"...thanks."

"don't mention it."

his answer was short, but his hand moved to rest lightly on top of your head anyway.

as the afternoon passed, the nausea never fully disappeared, but it became easier to handle with someone there. every time you felt another wave coming, zanka noticed immediately.

he would stop whatever he was saying, wait for it to pass, and only continue once you looked alright again. it was such a small thing, but it made you feel cared for in a way that was hard to explain.

by the time the sun started setting, exhaustion had completely replaced your earlier determination. your eyes felt heavy, your body felt drained, and all you wanted was sleep. zanka looked over at you and immediately understood.

"come on."

"where?"

"home."

before you could argue, he stood up and offered his hand. when you took it, he gave it a gentle squeeze before leading you away from the training grounds.

for someone who wasn't always the most openly affectionate person, his actions spoke for him. and the entire walk back, he stayed close enough that if the nausea got bad again, all you had to do was lean into him and he would be there.

𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐕𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐇𝐀

you woke up feeling sick.

not the kind of sick where you could sleep it off for an hour and be fine afterward. it was the kind that settled deep in your stomach and refused to leave.

every time you moved, nausea followed. every time you thought it was getting better, another wave came back stronger. by noon, you had given up trying to be productive and found yourself laying across corvus' couch with your eyes closed.

corvus didn't bother asking if you were alright because the answer was obvious. the moment he walked into the room and saw you curled beneath a blanket in complete silence, he knew something was wrong. usually, you would at least greet him. today, you barely lifted your head.

after a brief conversation, you admitted your period was making you nauseous, and his expression immediately softened.

the rest of the afternoon was surprisingly peaceful. corvus spent most of it working at his desk while you rested nearby. he never hovered or fussed over you, but somehow he always seemed aware of what was happening.

every time you shifted uncomfortably, his eyes briefly lifted from his work. every time another wave of nausea hit, he noticed before you even said anything.

after a while, you became bored.

being sick was one thing, being sick and bored was another. so naturally, you decided bothering corvus was the solution.

you slowly dragged yourself across the room before unceremoniously laying your head on his lap while he was trying to read.

he looked down at you. you looked up at him. neither of you spoke.

"...hello," you finally said.

"...hello."

"what are you doing?"

"reading."

"that's boring."

"i gathered that when you interrupted me."

despite the words, he made no effort to move you. if anything, his hand eventually settled on top of your head.

the nausea got worse later in the day. one minute you were listening to corvus speak, and the next you had buried your face into his leg with a miserable groan. your stomach felt awful. your head hurt. everything felt too warm.

you looked so defeated that corvus immediately closed his book and focused entirely on you. without saying much, he gently brushed your hair away from your face.

"nauseous?"

you nodded. he sighed quietly. not annoyed, just concerned. the kind of concern he rarely showed openly.

you stayed like that for a while, resting against him while waiting for the feeling to pass. corvus remained patient the entire time. he didn't rush you, didn't tell you to tough it out, didn't offer useless advice. he simply stayed there, letting you lean on him however much you needed.

though, your eyes grew heavier with every passing minute until keeping them open became impossible. somewhere along the way, you had practically curled up against his side without realizing it. normally you might have felt embarrassed afterward.

today you were far too tired to care.

corvus noticed your breathing slow and glanced down to find you half asleep against him. for a moment, he simply watched. then, with a small shake of his head, he carefully adjusted the blanket around your shoulders and shifted slightly so you would be more comfortable.

you never saw the faint smile that appeared afterward.

while you slept, corvus returned to his reading, one hand absentmindedly resting on your shoulder the entire time. every so often he would glance down to make sure you were still resting peacefully.

and when you unconsciously moved closer in your sleep, seeking warmth and comfort, he simply allowed it, remaining exactly where he was until you woke up again.

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐙𝐀

august had been working on a new collection for weeks, and after hearing him talk about it nonstop, you finally agreed to come see the finished designs. normally, you would have been excited.

unfortunately, your period had other plans. from the moment you woke up, your stomach felt horrible. not painful, just constantly nauseous. it was the kind of feeling that made you want to lay completely still and do absolutely nothing.

you still showed up anyway. and the second you walked into the studio, august lit up.

"there you are!"

his excitement lasted exactly three seconds. because then he got a proper look at your face. "...why do you look like you're about to faint?"

you sighed. "hello to you too."

august immediately walked over, gently grabbing your shoulders and turning your face toward the light as if he were conducting some serious medical examination. after listening to your explanation, his expression softened considerably.

"oh, sweetheart."

those two words alone told you everything. you were about to get spoiled against your will.

before you could stop him, august was already pulling you toward a private fitting room in the back of his workroom. it was quieter there, away from the noise, away from the strong scents, and away from people constantly moving around.

he sat you down on a comfortable chair and immediately started fussing over you.

you ended up spending most of the afternoon hidden away in the fitting room while august worked nearby. every so often he would disappear, only to return a few minutes later with something. water. a pillow. another blanket. a fan because the room felt too warm. then the fan got removed because you suddenly felt cold.

he was constantly adjusting things to make you more comfortable.

at one point, the nausea got particularly bad. you had your eyes squeezed shut while taking slow breaths, trying to wait for it to pass. immediately, august abandoned whatever he had been doing and crouched beside your chair.

"bad?"

you nodded. "very."

his face immediately fell. because if there was one thing august hated, it was seeing people he cared about uncomfortable. especially you.

without hesitation, he reached over and carefully brushed your hair back from your face.

"poor thing."

normally, you would have rolled your eyes. today you just leaned into the touch.

for a few moments, neither of you spoke. august simply stayed beside you, gently rubbing circles against your shoulder while you waited for the nausea to settle. unlike some people, he never rushed you. he never acted like you were being dramatic. if you said you felt awful, he believed you.

later, after the worst of it had passed, august decided the only reasonable solution was distraction.

he pulled a chair beside yours and began talking about everything and nothing at the same time. new designs. ridiculous stories from work. random gossip. he spoke with enough energy for both of you.

eventually, you found yourself laughing despite how miserable you felt. the moment august heard it, his entire face brightened.

"there it is."

"what?"

"you laughed."

"unfortunately."

"good. do it again."

you groaned. and he laughed.

by the end of the day, you were exhausted. the nausea had drained all your energy, leaving you sleepy enough to barely keep your eyes open. august noticed immediately. before you could insist you were fine, he carefully draped a blanket over you and guided your head onto his shoulder.

for once, he stopped talking.

he simply sat beside you in comfortable silence while you rested, occasionally checking on you whenever you shifted. and when you eventually fell asleep against him, august didn't move an inch, even though he still had work waiting for him.

as far as he was concerned, the designs could wait. making sure you were comfortable was far more important.

𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐍

you had been feeling sick since the night before, but you genuinely thought sleeping would fix it.

it didn't.

if anything, the nausea was worse when you woke up. your stomach felt unsettled, your head felt heavy, and even the thought of breakfast made you want to curl up and disappear.

but unfortunately, you had already promised to spend the day with gris, so despite feeling awful, you dragged yourself out anyway, hoping the feeling would eventually pass if you ignored it long enough.

gris knew something was wrong almost immediately. normally, you would be talking, pointing things out, or finding some way to fill the silence, but today you were unusually quiet.

your energy seemed completely gone, and every few minutes he noticed you taking slow breaths as if you were trying to keep yourself together.

it didn't take long for him to realize that whatever was bothering you wasn't something minor.

once he learned that your period was making you nauseous, the rest of the day subtly changed. gris wasn't the type to fuss over people or make a scene out of concern, but he became noticeably more attentive.

he slowed his pace whenever the two of you walked somewhere, made sure you stayed hydrated, and quietly kept an eye on you without making it obvious. it was the sort of care that came through actions rather than words.

the two of you eventually stopped near a riverbank to rest for a while, hoping the fresh air would help.

at first, it seemed like a good idea. the cool breeze felt nice against your skin, and for a few minutes the nausea eased enough that you thought maybe you were finally improving.

but that feeling disappeared the moment a strong smell drifted through the area, causing your stomach to twist all over again.

gris noticed your reaction instantly. before you even had the chance to say anything, he was already gathering your things and guiding you somewhere quieter.

he didn't make a comment about it or draw attention to your discomfort. he simply recognized that you weren't feeling well and removed you from the situation as naturally as breathing.

eventually, the two of you settled beneath a large tree away from everyone else. the shade was cool, the area was peaceful, and most importantly, there was nothing around that made your stomach worse.

you sat with your back against the trunk while trying to focus on steady breathing, hoping the nausea would settle enough to let you relax.

throughout the afternoon, gris stayed nearby. he wasn't constantly asking if you were okay or hovering over you every second. instead, he remained quietly present, paying attention without making you feel watched.

whenever another wave of nausea hit, he noticed the way your posture changed or the way your eyes squeezed shut, and somehow his calm presence always made the moment feel a little easier to handle.

as the hours passed, exhaustion slowly began replacing the nausea. feeling sick all day had drained nearly all of your energy, leaving you too tired to focus on much of anything.

eventually, without even realizing it, you found yourself leaning closer and closer to gris, seeking comfort wherever you could find it.

before long, your head had settled against him completely. you were far too exhausted to think about whether it was embarrassing or not. all you cared about was how comfortable it felt to stop holding yourself upright for once.

gris didn't react beyond making sure you were comfortable, adjusting the jacket around your shoulders and shifting slightly so you could rest more easily.

the afternoon slowly faded into evening while you drifted in and out of sleep. every time you stirred, gris was still there. sometimes reading, sometimes watching the scenery, sometimes simply sitting in silence. he never seemed impatient, never acted inconvenienced, and never once suggested leaving before you felt ready.

by the time you finally woke up properly, the nausea had eased enough that you could think clearly again. the first thing you noticed was that gris was still sitting exactly where you had left him hours earlier, content to spend the entire day making sure you were comfortable.

for someone who rarely expressed affection openly, it was moments like that that revealed just how deeply he cared.

𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎 𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐎

you had spent most of the morning hiding in your room, convinced that if you stayed perfectly still, the nausea would eventually go away.

it didn't. if anything, it seemed determined to make your life miserable. every time you sat up, your stomach complained. every time you tried to eat something, the thought alone made you feel sick. by the afternoon, you had given up entirely and curled into a blanket cocoon on your bed.

unfortunately for you, follo happened to stop by.

the moment he stepped into the room, he knew something was wrong. the curtains were closed, you were buried beneath several blankets despite it not being cold, and you looked like you hadn't moved in hours. the sight immediately wiped the usual pleasant smile from his face, replacing it with concern.

instead of asking a hundred questions, follo quietly sat on the edge of the bed and let you explain things at your own pace.

once he learned that your period was causing severe nausea, his expression softened considerably. there was no awkwardness or discomfort. he simply accepted it and focused entirely on how to make you feel better.

the rest of the afternoon passed slowly. follo stayed with you while reading a book he had brought with him, occasionally turning a page while keeping an eye on you from the corner of his vision.

there was something strangely comforting about it. he wasn't hovering or treating you like you were fragile. he was simply there, filling the room with a calm presence that made everything feel a little less miserable.

at one point, you became convinced that getting fresh air would help. unfortunately, the moment you stood up, your stomach immediately reminded you why that was a terrible idea.

the wave of nausea hit so suddenly that you had to sit right back down before your legs gave out beneath you.

follo was beside you almost instantly. concern flashed across his face as he steadied you and guided you back onto the bed.

although he rarely seemed flustered, seeing you nearly collapse clearly unsettled him. after that, he became much more watchful, making sure you didn't try another equally questionable idea.

as evening approached, the nausea started wearing down your patience. you were tired of feeling sick. tired of feeling weak. tired of not being able to do anything without your stomach protesting.

eventually, frustration got the better of you, and before you knew it, tears had begun gathering in your eyes.

you hated it. you hated crying over something like this.

follo noticed immediately.

without saying anything, he moved closer and gently pulled you against him. there was no teasing, no pointing out the tears, no making a big deal out of it. he simply held you while you hid your face against his shoulder, allowing you to let out every bit of frustration you had been holding in all day.

his hand moved slowly through your hair while the room remained quiet around you. there was no pressure to explain yourself and no expectation for you to stop crying quickly.

follo seemed perfectly content to sit there for as long as you needed, offering comfort in the simplest way possible.

eventually, the tears stopped. the nausea was still there, but somehow it felt a little easier to handle afterward. maybe it was because you weren't carrying all that frustration anymore. maybe it was because having someone beside you made the whole thing feel less overwhelming.

exhaustion had completely taken over. you had fallen asleep against follo sometime during the evening, wrapped in blankets and comforted by the steady rhythm of his breathing. even after you drifted off, he remained right where he was, careful not to wake you.

every now and then he glanced down to make sure you were sleeping peacefully, content to spend the entire night there if it meant you could finally get some rest.

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐘𝐋 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍

you didn’t even make it through the front door before the nausea hit you again.

you had been trying to get through the day normally, but your period had other plans. by the time you reached zodyl, you were already pale, barely keeping your balance, and very aware that something was seriously wrong.

he noticed instantly. he always did.

zodyl stopped mid-conversation the second you walked into the room. his eyes tracked you carefully as you hesitated in the doorway, one hand subtly bracing against the wall like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

“you’re unwell.”

it wasn’t a question. it never was with him. you tried to insist you were fine anyway, because that’s what you always did. but the second you took another step forward, your stomach turned so sharply that you had to stop and inhale through your teeth.

your face gave you away immediately.

he crossed the room in a few steps and caught your arm before you could sway too far forward, steadying you without hesitation. his grip was firm, controlled, like he already knew exactly how much pressure you needed to stay upright without feeling trapped.

“sit.”

you opened your mouth to argue. he didn’t even look at you. “now.” so you did.

carefully, you lowered yourself onto the nearest chair, immediately curling forward as another wave of nausea rolled through you. your breathing turned shallow while you tried to wait it out, hating how weak you felt just from standing too long.

zodyl watched for a moment, then turned without a word.

he came back a few minutes later with water and something light to eat, placing it within reach before standing off to the side instead of hovering over you. it wasn’t gentle in an obvious way, but it was deliberate. he was making sure you had what you needed without overwhelming you.

you barely managed a quiet thank you. he didn’t respond, but he stayed. he entire time.

later, when the nausea spiked again, you pressed a hand over your mouth and leaned forward instinctively. zodyl was already moving before you could fully react. his hand settled at your shoulder, steadying you just enough to keep you grounded while the wave passed.

he didn’t speak. didn’t ask questions. just stayed there until your breathing slowed again. it was frustrating how calm he was about it.

like this was just something that needed handling, not something that needed panic.

your body felt heavy, your head hazy, and the world outside the chair started to blur at the edges. you didn’t even notice when you shifted closer to him until your shoulder was lightly resting against his side.

zodyl glanced down and you were half asleep already.

he adjusted his stance slightly so you wouldn’t fall, then draped something over you without comment.

you woke up later to silence. and zodyl still there, working nearby like nothing had changed at all, except for the fact that he hadn’t once left your side.

𝐉𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

you had been trying to avoid everyone all day, mostly because your period had left you feeling nauseous and irritable, and the last thing you wanted was company.

but unfortunately, that plan failed the moment jabber found you anyway, appearing like he always did with that unsettlingly amused expression, as if he had been looking for you just to ruin your peace on purpose.

he immediately noticed something was off the second he saw you. your posture was slouched, your face was pale, and you weren’t reacting to him the way you normally would.

instead of teasing you right away like he usually did, he paused for a moment, studying you more carefully than expected before slowly tilting his head.

you tried to brush it off, insisting you were fine, but the words didn’t even sound convincing to you, let alone him.

another wave of nausea hit right after, and you had to look away quickly, pressing a hand to your stomach while trying to breathe through it. jabber watched the whole thing without interrupting, unusually quiet for a few seconds.

then he let out a small laugh, though it wasn’t as sharp as usual. more like he had figured something out.

“oh mames.. that kinda suffering,” he said casually, crouching down in front of you like he had all the time in the world. you didn’t answer, too focused on not feeling worse, which only made him observe you even more closely.

without warning, he disappeared again, leaving you alone for a few minutes that felt both peaceful and slightly suspicious.

when he came back, he was carrying random things that made absolutely no sense together—water, something sweet, and a few small items you couldn’t even identify at first glance. he dropped them next to you like it was the most normal thing in the world.

you stared at him in silence, too tired to question it properly, before he waved a hand dismissively like he already knew what you were thinking. “don’t make it weird ma,” he said, leaning back on his hands as he sat beside you. “just accept the charity.”

another wave of nausea rolled through you shortly after, and you immediately curled forward again, frustrated and exhausted.

jabber noticed right away, though instead of teasing you, he stayed where he was, watching quietly for once. it was almost strange how he didn’t push your buttons when you clearly weren’t feeling well.

he didn’t try to fix anything in a serious way, and he definitely didn’t act like he suddenly became responsible, but he also didn’t leave.

every so often he would say something ridiculous just to break the tension, like random comments about how your body was “betraying you for fun,” or how he should start charging for emotional support.

it was annoying.

but it kept your mind off the nausea for a little while.

eventually, exhaustion caught up with you, and you leaned back without realizing it, your body giving in after trying to stay tense for so long. jabber glanced over when you went quiet, then huffed softly like he was amused by the fact that you had actually relaxed around him.

he didn’t move away. didn’t make a big deal about it.

You were filing a chain of overdue work reports when you realized Leon hadn’t gotten out of bed yet.

He came in late last night, late enough for you to already be showered and under the covers, the book you were halfway done face-down and abandoned somewhere in the duvet. You knew Leon was wired coming home when you woke up the next morning to find a tall glass of water on your nightstand. Your book was closed and bookmarked next to it, your reading glasses folded gently on top.

When you rolled over that morning, you spotted him sleeping soundly on his stomach, bangs pressed into the pillow he’d been clutching. Leon had been kind enough not to wake you when he returned, even if you wouldn’t have minded him wrapping his arms around your back and burying his face in between your shoulder and neck.

It was rare for both of you to have so much off-time together, but with the overflow of reports you had to get in and the big mission Leon had finally wrapped up, things had aligned nicely.

Well…nice enough for Leon. He could lounge around in bed all he wanted, but your supervisor would throttle you if your work wasn’t done and sent in by the end of the week.

When you’d gotten out of bed that morning, Leon hadn't woken up. It was rare, watching him sleep so deeply. He usually had the nerve to stir and roll over, complain about waking him up or pull you into him before you could leave. Instead, he kept his eyes closed peacefully, an arm curled under his pillow and the other pressed soft against his stomach.

You wished you could watch this rare side of him for hours. But you knew you wouldn’t get any work done from bed—not when sleep was so tempting. Sighing, you left him untouched and didn’t bother changing out of your pyjamas as you trudged over to the living room, where your mountains of paperwork still lay on the coffee table.

The time flickered by as you marked up, signed, and sealed each form. You cradled another cup of coffee in your grasp and the last of the muffins you’d baked earlier that week as you worked on.

You didn't bother looking at the watch sitting flat on the table. You hadn’t noticed how much time passed by since waking up. Not until you heard the bedroom door creak open from deeper down the hall. Leon’s half-asleep footsteps wandered into the living room. You glanced down at the clock and realized that the morning had long gone. By the time you saw Leon’s head poke into the room, it was well into the afternoon.

He must have been extra tired, you thought. Leon was usually up before you after a longer assignment. He winded down best the morning after, when you were more awake and the two of you could do something relaxing together.

“Rise and shine,” you spoke without looking up, scribbling down a few more notes for the paper-clipped pile of jargon sitting in your lap. “What time did you get in?”

“Four,” Leon murmured from across the room. You hummed in acknowledgment. He’d gotten more than eight hours this time around. It had been awhile since that happened.

“You were sleeping so soundly, I almost wish I took a picture.”

Leon ignored your teasing about his beauty sleep, heading into the kitchen. You heard the water running, but not the hum of the obscenely expensive coffee maker you splurged on last summer.

When Leon emerged, he had a tall glass of water in his hand. He drank half of it, setting it down on the coffee table, far enough away from your stack of paperwork. He sat down, quieter than usual. You wanted to poke fun at his sleepy silence, but figured he was just being considerate as you trudged through your work.

You flipped the page as Leon settled into the couch, staring off at nothing in particular. He held himself just inches away from you, knuckles brushing against his lips, other hand resting loosely against his abdomen.

“Want coffee?” You asked absently. Leon shrugged from beside you, muttering something you couldn’t quite hear. “If you give me until the end of this stack, I can make us brunch.”

Leon seemed to sink further into the couch at the mention of food. You registered it as a tired yes until your arm came out to wrap around his shoulder. Leon stiffened, his heart thumping nervously in his chest and pulsing through his back. You pulled your arm back and froze. The numbers on your page didn’t seem so pressing once you really realized how little Leon said since coming in.

You pulled your eyes away from your work, noticing only now that Leon looked far from relaxed. He looked like he was holding something back, shoulders hiked up to his ears, face set in a glassy frown.

“You’re quiet today,” you said, rubbing your hand up and down the curve of his spine. You expected a classic one-liner, some kind of joke about how you worried too much. Instead, Leon let out something in between a sigh and a groan.

It was enough to officially set you off.

You set your papers down and leaned into him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into you. Leon seemed overwhelmed at first by the touch, before reciprocating the gesture more gently. He swallowed against your collarbone, his forehead sticky with sweat.

“Hey there,” you kissed the top of his head, smiling when he seemed to melt into your touch.

“Hi,” was Leon’s muffled response, breath hot against your sweater.

You knew Leon wanted to talk. He wanted the attention. Otherwise he would have spent the rest of the day alone, which…would have been okay too. But it had taken a long time to get here. Too much of swallowing down feelings and squashing old habits. You were both guilty of it, but what you loved most about Leon was how much he was willing to work at it. Leon worked so hard at everything he did.

“Doing okay?” You finally asked.

“Who says I’m not?” Leon quipped softly. You could tell by his voice that he didn’t feel like himself. Sweat stuck to his forehead, and you felt his breath jump as you let your fingers run through his hair.

You sighed, half-amused, and pulled him closer into your embrace. You let him rest his head against your chest, your legs tangled together.

“Because you never turn down brunch,” you murmured. “Today’s a slow day. I’m here if you need me.”

You squeezed Leon softly, feeling his exhale come out in short bursts through his nose. It always took a fair amount of coaxing to get him to admit what was on his mind. He’d been deployed for a while, but it wasn’t a field mission. Nothing violent. Nothing that might have set him off, unless there was something you didn’t know.

Leon swallowed again, breathing in sharply when he did.

“I just…I don’t feel good, I guess.”

You blinked back your surprise. The admission still sounded like he’d rather gargle glass, but you expected more pushback, a cutting remark or a quick subject change.

You could feel the heat radiating off his face and arms and felt a pang of sympathy in your chest as you stared down at Leon’s half-melted form. He must really feel rough if he was so ready to admit it.

“You’re not feeling well?” You sat up straighter, gathering the rest of him into your arms until you straddled his upper-half. Your hands swept his body up and down, as if trying to pinpoint the parts that hurt. “You wanna tell me in what way?”

You knew the difference by now, between a spiral of guilt, a bout of burnout, a physical wound, and the flu. But that was usually because Leon would conceal it until he couldn’t and came staggering toward you leaking with honesty. This time felt different, like maybe he was finally testing the waters of trust between the two of you and coming before things got bad.

“It’s really not a big deal,” Leon muttered into your upper arm. “Felt off going to bed and…you weren’t there when I woke up, so I just…”

He just didn’t want to be alone, you realized. Was that his way of telling you that?

Leon sounded so painfully out of his element. You knew it was hard for him to admit he just wanted someone around. He once told you after a few drinks that asking for what he wanted felt like he was jinxing it. It tore you up just thinking about it.

“You do feel a little warm,” You let your fingers fall from his hair down to his forehead. When you trailed down his chest through his t-shirt, you didn’t catch how his shoulders shivered a little against you. A fever might explain the lethargic symptoms, the loss of appetite. Maybe a case of the chills?

Your speculations halted when you brushed across his stomach and he flinched. You felt his abdominal muscles tighten, body tense as a painful-sounding hiccup wracked his chest. You felt Leon swallow instinctively against you, and your brain clicked with the realization.

“Your stomach doesn’t sound too happy,” You ghost a hand over Leon’s back until he seems to settle. Your heart plummets at the frustrated noise that came out of him.

“Yeah,” you watched him grit his teeth and breathe a little too shaky. “Yeah. Maybe that’s it.”

You slip a gentle hand beneath his shirt, warm hand on his even warmer skin. Leon curled into you, trying to stay silent as you traced comforting circles over his churning stomach. He hiccuped again, this one resulting in a thick burp. He stared up at you with a face so mortified, he looked like he’d rather be dead.

Oh, Leon.

“That sounded like it hurt. Are you nauseous?” You asked, knowing damn well that Leon didn’t want to talk any more about where exactly his weak points of the day were. He nodded, eyes a little glassier. You pressed on. “Do you think you’ll be sick?”

Leon shrugged at that. He’d taken to breathing slowly through his nose, some kind of grounding technique he’d probably picked up from training.

“Sounds like you caught something at work,” you tried to sound as neutral as possible. He didn't like coddling unless he was at the end of his rope. You didn’t want to push him any further. “You should sleep more. I can set you up in bed.”

“But you’re warm,” Leon muttered back, and your heart nearly skipped a beat. It was rare to see Leon so clingy. He tensed in your arms when his stomach flipped on its side again. He tried to backpedal, even if it was already too late. “I know you’re working today. S’okay. I can…”

“Stay right here?” You finished his sentence, though maybe not with the intended words. “I’m almost done for today. Why don’t we both sit tight for a bit?”

“…whatever you say.”

Leon’s head fell softly back onto you, one arm cradling his stomach while the other one curled around your waist. To appease Leon’s strange complex about needing others, your work was back in your hands within minutes. You didn’t want to risk asking him if he’d eaten anything weird. Whether food poisoning or a bad bug, the outcome would probably end up the same.

As you annotated with one hand, Leon had migrated downward, squished between your side and the couch cushion. He rested his head on your stomach, trying his hardest not to audibly react each time his body sent a dangerous signal down to his belly. You scratched the top of his scalp with your free hand, migrating down to rub softly at his upper back each time he muffled an uneasy burp into his fist.

When your stack of papers was finished, Leon was boneless pressed into you. Even asleep, he still held that frown that you’d always known as his hardened default.

Setting down the last of your work, you slipped off the couch and into the kitchen. As you waited for the kettle to boil, you rummaged around the medicine cabinet for the Tylenol and thermometer. The fact that Leon couldn’t stop shivering made you wonder if his upset stomach came with a fever, too.

The kettle hissed, and you poured the hot water into a mug bagged with ginger-lemon tea. When you came back out, Leon was sitting upright on the couch, arms wrapped tentatively around his stomach. His irritated face softened when he saw you.

“Have a nice nap?” You asked, grabbing the big blanket folded on the other end of the couch. You draped it over his shivering shoulders and sat down next to him. Leon grunted in response, nausea making him sway a little to the side.

“Fine.”

He sounded gruffer, like he was actively trying to shake off the clinginess from before. Once you were back down at his level, you turned Leon toward you and stuck the thermometer in his mouth.

“Open up.”

“N’t n’cess’ry,” he grumbled, the metal stick under his tongue muddling his speech.

“Pretty necessary,” you countered once the thermometer beeped a little too urgently. The fever was mild, but it was there. You passed him the Tylenol and the rest of his water from earlier. “This’ll make you stop feeling so hot. Can you stomach taking it?”

“You think I’m a kid or something?” Leon swiped it from your hand, clearly frustrated with how bad he felt. You didn’t miss the way his body convulsed after swallowing the pill. You could see him starting to detach, even if you knew that wasn’t what he wanted.

After drinking the tea in slow sips, Leon fell back into the couch, holding himself with a tired frustration. You waited for him to turn and look as you before you brought an arm around his shoulders again, pulling his head to rest lightly against the side of your arm.

“Sorry,” Leon finally muttered, a little breathless. “I’m not being fair.”

“You get a free pass. I’m sorry if you felt alone when you woke up,” you pressed a kiss to his forehead. Leon’s breath faltered at that. You knew you hit the nail on the head.

“Six years working as an agent, and I’m taken out by this,” Leon chuckled, a sarcastic smile on his face. His breathing started to return to normal. It hopefully meant the nausea was finally subsiding.

“Sickness doesn't discriminate,” you joked. “If it means I can get you in one place for the day, I’m not complaining.”

You shift your back up against the couch’s arm, opening yourself up so Leon can rest his head on your chest, body straddled between your open arms and legs. When you rubbed a soothing line from his upper back and down to his stomach, you kept yourself from giggling as Leon’s noises of approval vibrated against your skin.

“…m’taking you out for dinner once this is over. G’tting you whatever y’want…” Leon barely got out of his mouth, eyes closed and body limp. Of course he wanted to take back control. You knew it made him feel less exposed after vulnerable situations. You’d let him have his way tomorrow when he felt less gross.

Leon pushed through so much. You felt grateful that he came to you this time to get through it.

“Live through this first,” you snorted, holding him close as he finally drifted off.

Your work lay untouched for the rest of the afternoon. For Leon, your paperwork could wait.

A/N: and that’s itttttttt. There needs to be more sicky Leon in this world. And also I’ll never get enough of big spoon reader x little spoon Leon. Like…..he’s been through enough I just wanna hold himmmmmm