#sicktember2021

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Momo’s nose itched something fierce, the feeling worsened by winter’s chill. The semester was barely a week away from the end. If she could make it through this last round of classes before exams, she’d be free.

Mai scowled down at Momo. “Are you really going to class like that?”

Momo held back a sniffle. “Yeah. I’m just tired, it’s not a big deal.”

Her eyes watered with the strain of fighting off sneezes.

Mai’s expression couldn’t be further from disbelief. Judging by the way she swung the door open, Momo knew this wouldn’t be the last she’d hear of it.

Getting through the day’s lectures was more of a drag than usual. She struggled to take notes before everything went in one ear and out the other. By the end of the day, she’d given up on details and whittled it down to a few keywords to look up later.

As the other students filed out of the room, Momo packed her bag and hung it on the end of her floating broomstick.

Any remaining color in her face drained when she looked up to see Mai approaching her desk with Utahime in tow.

“This is your last chance to admit you’re sick,” Mai declared.

Momo tried to clear her throat as silently as possible. “What are you talking about? I already said I’m fine.”

Mai turned to Utahime. “Just wait.”

The bridge of Momo’s nose itched again; another sneeze was building up and she couldn’t stop it. She tried to play off the way it twisted her face as a yawn, but it wasn’t enough. She aimed her face into her elbow and let out a sneeze loud enough to make her ears ring.

Mai gestured in a way that could only be translated as “See?”

Utahime’s brows furrowed. “You should go to the infirmary, Nishimiya. I’ll let you take your exams when you’re well.”

Momo slumped back in her chair with an exasperated groan. There was nothing she wanted more than to be done with this semester—especially with the school break in her sights.

After a moment of silence, Mai raised her head as if she’d been struck by an idea. “I could take care of her.”

Utahime folded her arms, creases appearing in her shirt. “Are you actually going to look after her, or do you just want to get out of your exams?”

“Both.”

Mai’s gaze didn’t waver. Her eyes held a facetious glint, but the deadpan tone let her teacher know she was up to the task.

Utahime sighed. “At least you’re not lying about it. Fine. Get supplies from the office if you need them. Keep me updated.”

Mai nodded, a pleasant grin on her face. “Of course.”

“Alright,” Momo said as she climbed on her broom. “What are you doing? Just ‘cause I’m sick doesn’t mean you should miss your finals.”

Mai’s brows lifted, a chuckle falling from her mouth. “You think I’m worried about that? I can fail now or later, that’s not a problem. But you came here sick and expected me to…what? Let you get worse? Come on.”

“And if I get you sick?”

Mai shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ve got enough medicine for both of us. Don’t worry about me.”

Wonder spiraled in Momo’s chest. This was the most concern Mai had shown for her own health since they’d met. It had been a strange, winding path to get to this point, but she was glad to see any progress.

“That’s good.”

“Whatever.” Mai rested her chin on Momo’s head as they lifted off. “I said I’d take care of you, and I will. Focus on that.”

Momo laughed, suddenly feeling a touch warmer than the weather should allow.

Even under these circumstances, seeing the tiny cabin brightened Momo’s day. The splintered wood creaked as it settled, sounding like a greeting. She flew the broom through the door and rolled over the side in time to land on the couch. With a flick of her hand, Momo lowered the tool to the ground so Mai didn’t have to jump.

Each second she stayed on the couch brought her that much closer to sleep. This only got worse when Mai tossed a blanket on her and headed to the kitchen. Momo nuzzled her cheek into the plush cushion, a sigh interrupted by another sneeze.

“This is nice and all, but I have one more thing I wanna ask you to do.”

The clinking of glass and metal came to a stop. “Sure.”

“I want you to study while you’re here. Even if it’s only a little,” Momo added.

“Can’t. I left my books in class.”

“Borrow mine, then.”

The sounds picked up pace again. “You’re really set on this, aren’t you?”

Momo couldn’t say there was a lot to look forward to in a life of sorcery—even less so for someone like Mai. It would be far too selfish to ask her to stick around for Momo’s sake. But flunking out meant they’d have to part ways that much faster.

“I am,” she admitted.

A pause. “Fine. Only because you asked.”

“Thanks.”

The remaining tension in Momo’s shoulders melted away, and she sank into a dreamless nap. By the time she woke up, the aroma of soup had filled the cabin. She wiped the sleep out of her eyes. When her vision cleared enough, she lifted her chin up to the couch’s arm and watched Mai stir the cauldron.

Hazel eyes met hers, both pairs softening around the edges.

“Good. You’re up.” Mai filled the ladle and poured soup into a couple bowls.

Momo sat up as she approached, making room on the couch.

Mai found a wooden serving tray by the stove and loaded it with their meals. Placing it on the table, she dug in her pocket for a bottle of cold relief tablets.

“Take two of these first.”

Momo grimaced at the packaging. They weren’t even gel capsules, which would’ve helped them go down. Mai handed her a water bottle, and Momo took it with a heavy sigh.

The sooner she got this over with, the better.

She downed the pills with a swig of water, shuddering slightly as the bitter taste hit the back of her tongue. The urge to cough felt like her body was being more dramatic than necessary, but she went along with it anyway.

Mai handed her the food next, the warm bowl a pleasant distraction. The chicken noodle soup was clearly from a can, but the garlic and celery were fresh. She spooned it into her mouth, savoring it.

It wasn’t often that Mai cooked for her, but she enjoyed it whenever she did. Smiling around the spoon, she hummed a thank you to her girlfriend.

With the care Momo received over the next few days, her cold slowly released its hold on her sinuses. Sneezes no longer felt like getting punched in the skull, and she couldn’t be more grateful. That didn’t make the medicine any more bearable, but she couldn’t argue the results (as much as she wanted to).

Despite the risk of catching it herself, Mai insisted she stay by Momo’s side. Of course, Momo figured she simply had no intention of giving up the time they usually spent huddled up together on the couch; and this was the closest Mai would get to admitting it.

Now, Mai sat with a textbook on her lap, cheek resting on the arm she’d propped up against the side of the couch. Even though Momo leaned her back on Mai’s other arm, she could tell the frown on Mai’s face waned every time Momo shifted to get more comfortable.

On a break from her own studying, Momo thumbed through the pages of her mother’s grimoire. The relaxation it provided was immediate and always welcome. It was handwritten in flowing cursive, the leather spine worn from years of spellcrafting.

A bit of curiosity sparked in Momo’s mind as she traced a polished nail along the sketch of a potion bottle. “Did you ever get anything from your mom?”

“Mixed signals.”

“Oh.” In hindsight, Momo should’ve expected that. “Okay. Other than that.”

Mai shrugged. “I got a whole lot of words that meant nothing. She never gave me anything I could make my own.”

Thinking back, Momo had never seen Mai with any personal effects—for good reason, after all. If they’d had the same upbringing, Momo couldn’t say she’d want to take any of it with her, either. Maybe it had been too much to hope that there’d been a single gem among the refuse.

Mai snickered. “It’s cute that you care, though.”

“Cute, huh?”

“What, you want me to say it again?”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Momo mumbled.

The rattling of the pill bottle made her stomach drop.

“I’ll do it if you finish today’s dose.”

She could hear the smirk in Mai’s voice.

“You…are you serious right now?” Momo turned to take the bottle and a cup of water from Mai.

“Of course. Why didn’t I think of it sooner? Instead of listening to you complain about it, I could’ve been doing this the whole time. Positive reinforcement.”

The gleam in Mai’s eyes told Momo she’d never live this down. A sinking feeling swirled in her gut; she didn’t even bother ignoring it. Instead, she sighed, took her medicine, and waited for her reward.

Mai pinched one of Momo’s cheeks. “That’s my cute girl. You’ll feel better in no time.”

Amber eyes narrowed at him, Gordon clearly unconvinced. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said airily, the tone heavily laced with sarcasm. “Your unplanned swim, perhaps?”

“I’m fine,” Scott waved him off. “That was hours ago and you and Virgil were thorough.”

“Which is why you’ve been shivering every few minutes,” Gordon said bluntly.

“No, I-” Scott’s continued denial was interrupted by a wave of what felt like ice-cold water dousing his back, contracting all of the muscles at once and strangling his words. Unconsciously, his hands abandoned the holographic paperwork they’d been addressing to grasp at their opposing biceps.

“No, huh?” Before Scott could snatch his hands back and return them to the task they were supposed to be doing, he found the desk chair being yanked around on its axis, spinning him until he was facing away from the desk and instead looking straight at Gordon. A hand gripped his shoulder, while another one pressed against the side of his neck, thumb tucking into the hollow beneath his jaw.

Gordon’s skin was warm. From the dark look that flickered through amber eyes, Gordon didn’t think the same about Scott’s.

“John?” The aquanaut somehow reached the built-in desk comm while slithering onto Scott’s lap. He wasn’t particularly light; short, perhaps, but every inch of him was toned muscle or steel. He was also warm as he wrapped his arms around Scott’s neck and pressed their torsos together. Scott’s arms, still clutching their opposing biceps, found themselves pinned in place by Gordon’s weight.

With his back was to the den, and more importantly the holoprojectors, he couldn’t see when John appeared. He could, however, hear the quiet sigh that preceded, “what are you doing, Gordon?”

“Scott’s unexpected swim is catching up with him,” Gordon replied, sounding completely unfazed. “Gonna need all hands on deck for this one, John.”

The next sigh sounded resigned, and Scott kicked at the floor in an attempt to swivel the chair back around in order to see John’s face. Gordon dug his heels in and arrested the momentum with a squeal of sneaker soles on wood almost before they started moving at all.

“F.A.B.” The resignation remained as John acknowledged something that had completely flown past Scott. “Are you telling them or am I?”

“He’ll make a break for it if I move,” Gordon responded.

“Hey!” Scott barked, certain that the he in question was him, given the vague contextual clues he was able to piece together. “I’m right here, you know.”

Gordon grinned up at him and tightened his hold. “Which is where you’re staying,” he agreed, voice sunny and light even as it promised no escape. Grandma and Virgil were the two that Scott usually heard that particular combination from, but Gordon was well-versed in wielding it when he wished.

“This chair isn’t designed to hold two people, you know,” Scott pointed out, knowing as he did that it was a futile protest.

“Are you calling me fat, Scott?” The wounded tone was all put-upon and he ignored the faux-offended squawk. “I’m not moving, you know. I don’t have a thermometer on me but you’re definitely colder than you should be.”

“I’m fine,” Scott reassured him. It was only a slight chill, anyway. Nothing that wouldn’t pass in another hour or so.

Gordon made a disbelieving noise that said exactly what he thought of Scott’s statement. “We need to compare dictionaries, because I think yours has a different definition,” he muttered. He wasn’t looking over Scott’s shoulder towards the holoprojectors any more, and Scott surmised that John had disappeared again.

This reeked of scheming little brothers, but with his arms – very uncomfortably – pinned in place by Gordon’s body, alongside the rest of him, he was somewhat unfortunately at the mercy of whatever they were planning.

An attempt to shift his arms so that they weren’t digging into each other in a way that was starting to border on painful was met with resistance as Gordon somehow tightened his grip even further.

“Nuh, uh,” he scolded. “No moving.”

“This isn’t exactly comfortable,” Scott pointed out. A warm hand cradled the back of his head for a moment before tugging it forwards to land awkwardly on Gordon’s shoulder. Sighing at his brother’s antics, he let it happen rather than enter a battle between the muscles in his neck and the power of Gordon’s arms – some defeats were inevitable.

“Better?” Gordon asked, and there was definitely something cheeky in his voice.

“No,” Scott mumbled against the brightly-coloured shirt of the day. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re cold,” his brother said, as though the answer was obvious and Scott was an idiot for not knowing. The answer was obvious, yes, but Scott suspected there was an ulterior motive going on behind the scenes. If Gordon was merely concerned about his temperature, there would have been some heated squash presented with the expectation that it was drunk and an army of blankets instantly deployed.

Cosying up on his lap in a way that wasn’t entirely too dissimilar to some of Scott’s old flames – which was not a comparison he was particularly impressed with – was not the default response to a cold brother.

“You’re going to mess up your back sitting like this,” he pointed out. The shoulder his head was pressed against rose slightly in what was presumably a shrug.

“It’ll be fine,” Gordon promised. From another brother, Scott would treat that statement with extreme suspicion, but he did trust Gordon to be completely honest when it came to his back.

“What are you up to?” he asked, not particularly hopeful about getting a valid answer.

“Keeping you warm,” the aquanaut said immediately – the expected unhelpful answer.

“Like this?”

“For now.” For now? Those were threatening words and Scott tried to yank his head back up so that he could see something that wasn’t vibrant yellow fabric. The muscles in Gordon’s shoulder bulged and his attempt ended in failure.

“Gordon.”

“Scott,” came the predictable mimic. “Feeling any warmer?”

“I’m fine.” No, he wasn’t feeling any warmer; he could feel Gordon’s warmth, pressed against his front and encircling his shoulders, but the glacier was still residing deep within his spine, sending out pulses of ice. If he actually thought about that, it was somewhat concerning. Scott chose to believe it was because Gordon was using an inefficient method to try and warm him rather than examine the alternative too closely.

Faint footsteps sounded behind him, a muffled sound of thick socks on hardwood rather than the more familiar tap of shoe soles or slap of bare skin and then a broad hand landed on his shoulder.

“We’re ready,” Virgil’s voice rumbled reassuringly. “Come on.”

Scott tried to raise his head again; this time, Gordon let him, although another warm hand pressed against his forehead.

“Definitely too cold,” Virgil muttered. “I’ve got him, Gordo.”

“F.A.B.” The aquanaut slipped from his lap, leaving a rush of cool air to pool in where the warmth had vacated. Scott’s hands had barely lost their grip on his biceps before his entire body froze rigid once again.

Now he really felt cold, and a not-insignificant part of him wanted Gordon’s body heat back now that it had had a taste of the alternative.

Fabric appeared out of nowhere, wrapping around him and pinning his limbs in place; his arms seemed destined to remain crossed over his chest for a while longer yet.

“You’re looking pale,” Alan told him, abruptly appearing in his field of view with wide, worried blue eyes.

“Thanks,” Scott responded dryly – what else could he say to that?

Virgil released his forehead and Scott let his head fall back against the headrest of the chair. There were three brothers in front of him, ranging from Alan’s agitated concern to Virgil’s reluctant resignation.

“Are you-” just here to stare? was what Scott had been planning on saying, a harmless quip to prod them into not hanging around him now a blanket had been deployed. He was interrupted by a startled squawk as Virgil slipped his arms between Scott and the chair and heaved him up. “Hey! Virgil!”

“We’re ready for you now,” Virgil told him, completely unruffled despite Scott’s instincts to try and jump out of his hold. The blanket wrapped around him did a frustratingly good job at keeping him where he was.

Those words screamed scheming little brothers just as loudly as anything else they’d done since Gordon decided to sit on him.

What, exactly, they’d been scheming was immediately apparent when Virgil turned around and Scott found himself facing the den – or what was once the den.

How and when Alan and Virgil had snuck in and transformed it, Scott had no idea – Gordon hadn’t been sitting on him for that long, surely – but there was no sign of the couches that ringed the sunken area – or indeed the sunken area itself. Instead, there was a simple yet clearly structurally sound castle of blankets and pillows, supported using cords tracking across the room and suspended from the mezzanine level.

It had been a long time since they’d last constructed a blanket fort, and Scott distinctly remembered being the one to initiate it more often than not when a little brother wanted somewhere to hide – or play – for a while. For one to have been made without him… and for him…

It felt a little bittersweet but also nestled a small nugget of warmth inside his chest. Not enough to combat the rapidly encroaching glacier, but there all the same.

He was unsurprised, when Virgil carried him across to the entrance – which Alan and Gordon held open with a flourish – to see what he was fairly certain was every single blanket, pillow, and comforter the five of them owned – alongside spares not in use – arranged within the space.

The surprise was the shock of ginger hair in the middle, where the holotable usually sat – Scott could just about see it pushed up against one of the couches, all of which were buried in multiple blankets. John had been in Thunderbird Five when Gordon had called, Scott was sure. Admittedly he hadn’t seen his brother, but there’d been no reason for John to be down, had there?

Except for this, he supposed, and the timings definitely weren’t adding up unless he reassessed a few assumptions.

Virgil didn’t give him time to rethink the past few hours, depositing him gently but firmly in a hollow that was certainly designed for this exact purpose. John immediately pulled more blankets over him, followed by a familiar blue comforter that had definitely been on Scott’s bed that morning.

Apparently Scott’s arms were fated to be pinned by something for the foreseeable future; while he temporarily gained enough wriggle room to uncross them at the moment of deposition, once the new layers were applied they were once again stuck in place. Blankets were a far more comfortable restraint than his brother’s weight, though, so he found himself not minding it so much – even if it meant he was technically at the mercy of all four younger brothers, who were quickly crowding around him despite there being plenty of space for them to spread out if they wanted.

Then again, it was clear that what they wanted was to dispel the glacier still trying to inhabit his spine, and in the enclosed fortress of blankets with four warm bodies in his immediate vicinity, Scott was safe in the knowledge that it wouldn’t last much longer before melting away.

Confirming that, Gordon and Alan dogpiled on top of him – or rather, on top of the pile of blankets on top of him – while Virgil pressed up against his side. John coiled on his other side, not as close as the other three and not directly interacting with any of them but ending up close enough to Scott’s head that he might as well have been wearing the ginger like a hat.

It was stifling, his chest heaving with the effort of drawing in air with the weight on top of it, but it was warm.