𖢥 name’s bug! 𖢥

He didn't really question where Vivian got her information. For one, he was far too sleepy too, and two, Vivian was not the type to joke about that. He trusted her. Simon steeled himself and grabbed the navy blue bat he kept under his bed from the singular month he did baseball.

Staying low and quiet, he stalked out of his bedroom and into the hallway, listening in for any sounds that might give away an intruder's position.

It didn’t matter that his hands were shaking. It didn’t matter that he could feel his heart thumping out of his chest. He was going to keep Vivian safe.

He made his way into the hall and kept his bat up high, gripping tighter. The dark made it hard to navigate, but he managed to flick on the lights and check behind all the bedroom doors and closets only to find nothing at all.

Weird.

He checked the kitchen, then the living room, then the kitchen again, and after about ten minutes, he was sure he searched every inch of the house.

Nothing. There wasn’t a single sign that anyone had been there since Simon’s mother and aunt had left.

He returned, confused, to the room where Vivian was now laying down on the air mattress, clutching the blanket even tighter, and knelt down beside her.

“Vivi, there’s no one there. I checked and the house is empty.” He glanced at his alarm clock and found it was only a little past midnight. “Mami and Tía aren’t home yet.”

“But I heard it,” She wailed, bursting into a shaky fit of sobs.

Seeing her in the light from the hallway made Simon frown. She was wearing some Minnie Mouse pajama pants and one of Simon’s Pokémon shirts, but it clung to her tiny frame strangely as if she was sweating. Her hair was frizzy and messy and her tear tracks glinted off her face, making the whole scene a little more heart-wrenching.

“What’s goin’ on, Vivi? We’re safe. I promise.” He placed a hand on her back to pat it comfortingly but stopped short when he felt the sheer amount of heat radiating off of her through her damp pajamas.

“Oh no,” He whispered, pressing a hand to her forehead and cheek. His worry only spiked when she simply scooted into his lap and leaned into the touch.

“I don’t feel good,” She murmured, draping her arms around Simon’s neck and settling closer.

Vivian was quite physically affectionate even when she was feeling normal, but that affection usually came in the form of climbing or tackling or jumping on Simon’s back. She only really got clingy like this when she was sleepy or ill, and considering she had just woken up in distress, Simon had to assume the latter.

“You’re sick, Vivi. You just had a bad dream," He concluded. "Why didn’t you say you didn’t feel good earlier?”

“D’nno,” She replied softly, snuffling against the fabric of Simon’s shirt.

Simon held her closer and racked his brain with what to do.

He could handle this. He was big now, he could take care of his little cousin. He tried to think about what his mom did for him or his sister when they were ill.

“You gotta change out of this shirt. It’s all sweaty.” He set her down in the nest of blankets (to her audible dismay) and began rifling through his drawer for a different shirt she could borrow.

When he turned back around to hand it to her, he found that she had somehow collected every blanket from the floor and was now bundled up as tightly as possible.

Alarm bells went off in his head and his mother’s voice came to mind from the last time he had the flu.

Simon, quítate esa cobija. Tienes fiebre demasiado alta.

He crawled over to Vivian and remorsefully peeled away a few of the layers.

“I know you’re cold but you’ll get too hot under there. Mami says it's not good for a fever. Come on Vivi, let it go.” He murmured, prying it out of her tiny hands.

Vivian looked at him as if he had slapped her across the face. All he could do was watch as her face crumpled and she began to sob.

“I’m s-so cold, Simon,” She bawled, burying her face into her hands and shaking even harder.

Simon felt his heart crack in two as he shuffled closer and placed a hand on her knee.

“I know Vivi, I know. I’m sorry. Can you come with me to the living room? And I can make some soup for you and get medicine? Then I’ll lay with you to keep you warm and I’ll put on the TV, okay?”

Vivian sniffled dejectedly, but she finally nodded.

“Okay, first put on this shirt and meet me outside. Yell if you need help,” He said before pressing a kiss to her forehead and rushing out to the kitchen.

Okay Guevara, focus. Soup should be an easy enough task. His mom kept their kitchen well stocked and he'd seen her reheat it plenty of times.

Simon opened the closet door and stood on his tip-toes to reach a can of chicken noodle and skimmed the label before deeming it acceptable.

He flicked on the stove and poured the contents of the can into a small pot and left it to rummage through the medicine cabinet.

He vaguely thought about getting a thermometer down to take her temperature, but he had no idea how to use one and even if he did, he doesn't quite understand all the numbers and beeping. He'd defer that task to Tía for when she came back and do the best he could with what he knew he could do.

Once he gathered all that he needed, he heard a soft door creak coming from the hall.

He turned to see quite possibly one of the saddest sights he’d seen in his entire life.

Vivian was wrapped in a fluffy blanket, staggering out of the bedroom. She was shivering visibly and her eyes were glassy. She hardly even looked at Simon as she beelined for the couch and curled up immediately into the armrest. A small cough shook her shoulders and she whimpered quietly.

Just hold on a bit longer, Vivi, he pleaded in his mind and went back to idly stirring the soup on the stove.

Once it was warm enough, he had to climb the counter to reach a bowl, and poured the steaming liquid into it. He only spilled a small amoutn and figured he'd clean it after Vivian fell asleep. He brought the soup, some water, and ibuprofen to the wooden coffee table in front of her.

Her gaze lifted and she sniffled sadly.

“Wanna go to sleep,” She complained, scrubbing at her face.

“Can you eat some food first and take some medicine? It’ll be yucky but it will make you sleep good. Also might help with the bad dreams.”

Vivian nodded slowly and scooted closer to Simon as he sat beside her.

“Say ahh,” He mimed, spooning some noodles and chicken into her mouth. She chewed, swallowed, and Simon prepared another spoonful.

They continued this until about two-thirds of the bowl was gone and Vivian was flagging.

“Don't sleep yet, let me get your medicine.” Simon measured and pured the sickly sweet grape liquid into the measuring cup and passed it off to Vivian who scowled and scrunched away.

“It smells yucky. I don’t want it.”

“You hafta drink it. It’ll make you better. Mami always gives me this one.”

“My mami gives me bubblegum. Not yucky grape,” She sneered.

Even though Simon fought the urge to roll his eyes, the fact that she was acting more normal was comforting. Still, he decided to play his trump card.

“If you don’t drink it you might get so sick and I’ll have to call the wee-woo truck and then we can never have a sleepover ever again. Never.”

Vivian’s eyes widened and a pout formed, but she knocked the medicine back with nothing more than a small grimace.

“Good job.”

She huffed, but as soon as Simon lifted his arm to let her settle into his side, she graciously accepted and clung to him for dear life.

Simon changed the channel to their recorded episodes of Adventure Time and put the volume of the TV to barely above a murmur.

They hadn’t even gotten halfway through the first episode when he felt Vivian's weight get heavy on him and heard her breathing even out.

He sighed, relieved.

He handled it, and he would stay awake until Mami and Tía came home so he could explain what happened and let the adults take over. All he had to do was wait it out and he would have done a good job.

When Marcella came home with her cousin Yesenia not one hour later, she was equal parts endeared and shocked to find her son cradling his cousin as he practically drooled on top of her head. The mess of soup and medicine and tissues told her enough, but she would have to ask Simon what actually happened later.

For now, she carried him to bed while Yesenia handled Vivian and got her set up in the guest room. As Marcella set Simon down in his bed and tucked the blankets around him, she kissed the soft skin above his nose and smiled.

“Goodnight mijo. You are such a sweet boy. I love you.”

Simon sighed in his sleep and drifted away.

“Good idea. He’ll probably be out for a while.” Simon huffed, picking up a throw from the armrest of the couch and draping it over Archie’s curled body. He simply sniffled and buried his face into the blanket before going right back to snoring.

Simon slipped into the small kitchen and washed his hands. “Okay. Where do you need me?”

“You can start melting the butter and whisking the wet ingredients. I’ll mix the dry ones.”

“Got it.”

The two shuffled around in quiet efficiency. Simon collected items from the fridge and Vivian began meticulously measuring things and pouring them into the large metal mixing bowl. She already felt herself begin to relax. It was the effect baking always seemed to have to her, and by God did she need it this Christmas.

She hadn't spent time with Simon like this in years. The two grew up very close. Their mothers were first cousins, and they would hang out together at nearly every family function when their other cousins got too rowdy. She adored her older cousin and despite not seeing him as often as she used to, she still considered him one of her best friends.

Which is why when her parents found out through one of her ex-friends that she was a lesbian and kicked her out of their home entirely, Simon didn’t hesitate to take her in.

That was nearly four months ago now, and quite possibly the hardest months of her life. She was grateful every day that she went to university so close to where Simon lived, and that she was on a full ride so she didn’t have to worry about housing costs until she graduated. 

It didn’t make the emotional toll any easier, though, so when Simon invited her to spend Christmas with him and his “friend from work”, she was silently grateful she’d have something to do other than stuff her face with ice cream and binge-watch cartoons for the entire day.

It had been great so far. Being with Simon was just like when they were kids. It was better somehow, and she also found Archie hilarious. She was honestly kind of shocked someone as quiet and serious as Simon was friends with him, but somehow it worked. He was incredible, but simultaneously an enigma. 

Archie elicited a curiosity from Vivian she didn’t know she possessed. She knew hardly anything about him and it drove her a little bit insane. She got the distinct feeling he was hiding something, but she couldn't quite place what it could be. She decided to probe.

“I guess he’s really tired, huh?” She asked, scooping and measuring some baking soda.

“Yeah, he worked pretty late today.”

“What did you say he did again?”

Simon’s brow crinkled. “I don’t think I ever told you what he did.”

“Oh, well I’m asking now. What does he do?”

“He’s…” Simon’s lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. “He’s a security guard.”

“A security guard?” Vivian lifted an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Night shift.”

“Who does he work for?”

“He’s sort of freelance, I guess,” Simon muttered, placing a bowl with a stick of butter into the microwave. “Goes where work takes him.”

“Hm. Does he like it?”

“Well enough. He likes to keep people safe.”

“How many days a week does he work—”

“What is this, twenty questions? Ask him yourself when he wakes up, Viv,” Simon laughed, a little incredulously.

Vivian huffed a small laugh and began whisking her ingredients. “Fine.”

Some more comfortable silence passed before Vivian couldn’t help herself.

“So are you two, like… y’know?”

“What?”

“You know! Are you two, like, a thing?”

Simon choked on air and turned away to cough.

“You totally are!” Vivian whisper-shouted, poking Simon in the rib.

“We’re not,” He shot back, batting her hands away. “He’s… just a friend. Seriously. What even gave you that impression?”

Vivian gave a small pout, but her expression shifted into something softer.

“I dunno. You’re different when you’re with him. You’re more you. You seem happy, but not the fake shit you put on when you're at work or around the family. You seem actually happy. Like when we were kids. It’s really nice to see.

Simon didn’t answer. He didn’t even look up from pouring the melted butter into the mixing bowl, and from the way his shoulders stiffened, Vivian knew she hit the nail on the head. When he quietly asked how many eggs to crack and whisk, she took the plea for a change in conversation topic for what it was.

“Two. Make sure to add the sugar into the melted butter first, though.”

“Okay.”

Vivian smirked out of eyeshot and began whisking the dry ingredients.

They worked in a comfortable silence, and once the dough was scooped and placed in the oven, Vivian left to shower while Simon pulled out his laptop and got some idle studying done in the meantime. Archie fast asleep.

By the time the oven dinged, Vivian was in her pajamas, wearing one of Simon’s old oversized sweaters, and feeling more relaxed than she’d felt in years. It was a strange feeling to be so safe, but not one she was complaining about. The Christmas spirit must have been getting to her because her chest grew tight with emotion.

She was lucky to have someone like Simon in her life. Archie too.

She whispered toward him. “You wake up Archie, I'll get the cookies out and plate them.”

Simon nodded and Vivian started toward the oven. She listened to her cousin’s conversation with his friend idly.

“Archie. Archie, wake up buddy. Cookies are ready.” He shook his shoulder lightly.

There was rustling. A muffled sniffle. A soft groan.

“Whuh? D’I fall asleep?” He slurred, scrubbing viciously at his eyes.

“Mmmhm.”

“M’sorry. Didn’t mean to. Got really sleepy. Patrol was—”

“Shhh,” Simon murmured. Vivian could have sworn he threw a glance over to her, as if reminding Archie of her presence. 

Archie’s eyes widened a bit and he looked her way. “Vivian. Oh God, I’m so sorry. Said I’d help with the cookies… gosh, I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, mkay? Just enjoy the cookies!” She reassured, smiling at him.

Archie smiled warmly back and lifted his arms above his head to stretch before getting up and shuffling to the kitchen.

“It smells amazing in here,” He said dreamily, looking at the cookies like a predator zoning in on prey. "Thank you so much for making them."

“No, thank you guys for having me. It really means a lot,” Vivian mused, scooping equal amounts of cookies onto three plates and setting three glasses for milk.

Archie smiled and pulled Vivian into a quick hug before sitting at the table with Simon. “I’m still really sorry for falling asleep Vivian. If you bake anything again and need a helper, I’ll be there. Promise.”

“It’s really okay. Besides, Home Alone always puts me to sleep too.”

Simon scowled. “Home Alone is my favorite.”

“Oh, believe me, I am well aware. You used to put it on a loop at Abuela's house on Christmas Eve. I have the damn thing memorized now.”

“It’s the best Christmas movie. Like, hands down. Never gets old.”

“Says you.”

“Says everyone. There is no way you're arguing this with me— holy shit, Archie.”

Vivian glanced over to Archie only to find his plate completely empty. Her jaw dropped. She swears those cookies were there quite literally a second ago.

Archie blinked owlishly at them, crumbs covering his chin, and cheeks stuffed. He swallowed and cleared his throat, picking at his fingernail sheepishly.

“I was hungry… and they were just sitting there.”

There was a brief pause, and suddenly both Simon and Vivian burst into barking laughter.

Archie eventually joined in the infectious laughter and the three settled into quiet, comfortable, and cozy conversation with one another.

They relocated to the couch at some point and after about an hour or two, Vivian's eyes grew impossibly heavy and she succumbed to sleep.

The last thing she remembered before fully falling asleep for the night was Simon carrying her to the air mattress in his office and tucking a thick blanket around her.

“Merry Christmas, Viv.”

She might have seen Simon wrap his arm around Archie’s shoulders as they returned to his room, might have even seen him press a kiss to the top of his head, but she couldn’t be sure through the sleep haze. It made her smile anyways.

She dreamed of warmth and lights and everything she’d been missing for this last period of her life.

Merry Christmas, indeed.