aswallowssong

[aswallowssong]

Have I been inactive because my life became chaos as always? Yes.

Should you be reading this? Also yes.

Daughter of the Sea

Chapter Thirty-One: We Say Goodbye to Camp (Read on AO3)

Everything was normal until that afternoon. 

We had just finished lunch and I was making my way to the sword-fighting arena when the sound of the conch made my blood run cold. Three short, loud sounds. That only meant one thing—war council. 

I raced as fast as I could to the Big House, thankful I already had my battle armor on, not stopping until I had crashed into the rec room. Judging by the red faces and heavy breathing of the other counselors, they had done the same. Chiron stood at the head of the ping-pong table, his face steely. Next to him stood Annabeth, who looked like a mess. I could tell she was trying to put on a brave face, but she was wringing her Yankees cap like she did when she was anxious and her cell phone was open on the table in front of her. I had learned quickly that demigods weren’t supposed to use technology, but sometimes it was necessary. Annabeth was one of the only kids at camp with a phone, and I had a sinking feeling I knew who had called her. 

“Thank you for coming so quickly.” Chiron began, his tail swishing. “There has been a…development.” He turned to Annabeth, a sight I had seen many times this summer, and the blonde girl knew what to do. I don’t know when it had happened, but I realized in that moment how much of a leader she had become for us. The other campers may have looked to Percy, but the counselors looked to Annabeth. 

“Percy left me a message.” She said simply, and all the air left the room. “It was…vague, but one thing was clear—it’s time.” 

For a few seconds, no one spoke. And then everyone started talking at once.

”What did he say?” Travis demanded. 

“Time? Like, for real?” Jake Mason yelped. 

I shared an uneasy look with Cady, whose face was hard and would’ve been impossible to read for anyone else. I looked around the room—every counselor was present, even Silena, except for Clarisse. I got a sinking feeling. 

“Heroes!” Chiron shouted, stomping his hooves. The room went silent. “We must act quickly. Annabeth,” he turned to the daughter of Athena. “Please continue.” 

“Percy said to meet him at the base of the Empire State Building as soon as we can…” she took a shaky breath and shot a nervous glance to Chiron. He nodded. “All of us.” 

“The whole camp?” Micheal questioned. 

“And leave us defenseless?” Connor countered.

”We’re gathering at Olympus?” Katie spoke over them. 

“I know it seems unwise!” Annabeth shouted, quieting the chaos. “I don’t fully understand, either. But…I trust Percy. We trust Percy, don’t we?” She looked to me, which I didn’t really notice until every other head turned towards me, too. I swallowed the lump in my throat. 

“Of course.” My voice sounded more confident than I felt. “If Percy has a plan, it’s one I’ll follow.” I took a shaky breath. “To the end.” 

The counselors straightened up and gripped their weapons. Their eyes shone with new determination. I could only stand their gaze for a few moments before turning back to Annabeth. “Lead the way, Wise Girl.” 

Annabeth cracked a smile, but her eyes were sad. “Mobilize your cabins. Prepare for anything. Everyone, and I mean everyone over ten, is leaving in thirty minutes, max.” There was a moment of tense silence while she made eye contact with each of us. “Understood?” 

There were nods and murmurs of agreement. 

“Good.” 

She turned to Chiron. 

“Now is the time to summon your courage.” He spoke. “For your parents. For Olympus. For Camp Half Blood. You are ready, heroes.” He gave us a sad smile. “May the fates go with you.” He spoke a blessing over us in Ancient Greek. “Now go!” 

His sudden shift in tone jolted me out of my fear and spurred me into action. The counselors began scrambling out of the room, talking excitedly as they went. I caught Cady’s arm as she tried to rush by. 

“If I don’t see you before—“

”Stop talking.” She cut me off before pulling me into a hug. “I’ll be with the archers, with Michael.” She pulled away as the words tumbled out of her mouth. “Will is taking the medics.” I tried to ignore the tears brimming in her eyes. I tried to ignore how badly she was trying to force them away. 

I found myself nodding as I tried to quickly process everything she had said. 

She was going with the archers—not the medics. She was incredibly talented with a bow, one of the best in the Apollo cabin. I knew that. But she was a better medic. She had been given unique gifts by her father, and the fact that Chiron had chosen to put her with the fighters made my stomach drop. The reasoning was clear—we needed all the help we could get. We needed fighters—not healers. 

“That’s good.” I said firmly. I saw something in Cady’s eyes set. 

“It’ll be okay.” I didn’t need to ask how she knew I was so worried. “We’ll win this.” 

I attempted a smile. “We have to.” 

We held each other’s gaze for a moment that stretched beyond time before I pulled her into another hug, quick and intense. Who knew what was about to happen? Who knew what we would face, how long we would be fighting? 

Who knew if we would ever see each other again? 

“Cady, whatever happens, I just wanna say…” the words caught in my throat, but I forced them out. “Thank you for being my friend.” 

I heard as she stifled a sob against my chest. She took a breath like she wanted to say something, but then stopped herself. She didn’t speak again until she pulled away, and when she did, her face was determined. Her cheeks were wet, but her eyes were dry. 

“I’ll see you on the other side.” 

“Either in this life or the next.” 

I knew we shouldn’t, with everyone hurrying around us and the conch sounding outside and everything so tense, but we laughed. Just for a moment, but it was enough. 

“Gotta reach Elysium somehow.” Cady said with a shrug. I laughed again, so I wouldn’t cry. 

“Cadence!” Micheal Yew’s voice carried over the chaos of the room. I barely caught as she rolled her eyes at the sound. 

“Hold fast, Angie.” Cady said with finality. “You’re ready for this. Step out of the shadow.” 

I didn’t have to ask her what she meant. 

“We’re gonna be okay.” My voice was desperate, more like a question than a statement. She smiled at me. 

“Yeah, we are.” 

And with one last squeeze of my hand, she disappeared out of the rec room doors. 

We were all assembled on Half Blood Hill in thirty minutes exactly, loading up into the three white vans that would take us into the city. Annabeth and some of her siblings were directing campers, shouting seat assignments and making sure everyone had everything they would need. I was watching a fight break out between a child of Athena and a child of Apollo who was adamant she needed two extra bows with her, when a voice behind me made me jump. Spinning around, I saw the young, expectant face of a little girl with curly, strawberry hair and freckles dotted along her cheeks. I smiled at her, and the tense, terrified expression she wore softened. 

“Hey, Marigold. What’s up?” I bent down so that I was at eye-level with her. I knew she was eleven, but she felt younger. Or maybe I felt older. 

“I can’t find Andrew. Or Emily. Or Katie.” I recognized the names of her siblings. “Can you help me?” 

I tried to keep my face steady, being careful to not show her how much she was breaking my heart. 

“Of course.” I took her by the hand, the one that wasn’t clutching a small dagger with vines swirling around the hilt, and walked over to the son of Athena who was still yelling at the Apollo kid. He hardly batted an eye when I took the clipboard out of his hand to check the seating assignments. 

“Here, bus three, with the rest of the Demeter kids.” I smiled down at her and ruffled her hair a bit. “Do you want me to take you there?” 

She nodded, barely meeting my eyes. 

“Mari! There you are!” Katie shouted as we neared the van, scooping the small kid up in her arms. I made it a point to ignore the tears in her eyes. “Haven’t even left camp yet and you’re already scaring me half to death.” 

“It’s okay, Katie.” Marigold said in a soothing voice. 

“Were you scared?” Katie asked as she cupped the small girl's face in her hands. 

“A little, but then I found Angie. And I knew I’d be okay.” 

I felt my stomach drop as Katie smiled up at me. Percy was so good in these situations, so good at being a leader. I was counting down the minutes until we were all reunited and he could take up that position again. 

A single choice shall end his days…

Who would they all look to when Percy was gone? Me? I felt my hands start to shake, and was thankful when I heard Annabeth’s voice call out across the hill. 

“All demigods to your vans! This is your final call! To the vans!” 

The daughter of Athena spoke with authority, finality, the gravitas of a military commander. And yet, no one moved. Her voice rang out over the silence, as if the words magically froze everyone in place. The younger campers squirmed and held onto their siblings. The older campers looked over the fields, the woods, the circle of cabins, the lake, the big house, with a somber longing. A nostalgia for something they hadn’t yet lost, but knew they were about to. Some held hands. Some leaned their heads onto their friends, siblings, significant other’s shoulders. Silent tears fell down hardened faces. 

And then a small voice began to sing. 

It was Lyric, Cady’s little brother. He was young, but not too young to come fight with us. Just barely twelve, if I remembered correctly. He had been at Camp Half Blood since he was five, and this life was the only one he had ever known. 

He was clutching Cady’s leg as if he never wanted to let go. The melody floated over the hill like a golden thread, filling all of our minds and hearts with a sense of peace and purpose. The words were old, the melody ancient, and yet I understood every word—the heritage from my father translating the Ancient Greek as it wove its way through the grass, danced with the flowers. One by one, the other children of Apollo began to sing along, and even some older campers who knew the song from years around the campfire. It was a song of bravery, of heroes and valor and fighting for one’s home. It was a song of courage, a blessing. It was a prayer for safety. A prayer to return home. 

The song ended, and the only sound was the breeze blowing through Thalia’s branches. 

“It is time.” Chiron’s steady voice broke our trance. We all loaded into the vans in silence, double-checking our armor and weapons as we went. I played with the shells of the necklace my father gave me, fiddled with the solitary camp bead on its thick cord. I was riding in the van with Annabeth and her siblings, and we all watched out the windows as we crossed the threshold of camp. I saw the trees and houses and berry patches blur by, my head jumbled with everything we were about to do, everything we had done. I stole a glance at Annabeth, but she was so focused I didn’t dare interrupt her thoughts. Especially not now. 

I found myself, surprisingly, praying. To Hestia and Apollo, two gods I felt always looked out for me, but mostly to my father. I knew he was busy fighting his own war below the surface, but something about having a connection to him made me feel stronger, more at peace. Even if that connection was only one-sided. 

We were almost to the Queens-Midtown tunnel when Annabeth’s phone rang. There was a collective gasp, and she flipped it open faster than I’d ever seen anyone answer a call. I knew who it was before she spoke—there was only one person who would be calling Annabeth at a time like this. 

"Percy, where have you been? Your message said almost nothing! We've been worried sick!" My heart clenched at my brother’s name. He really did it, just like my dreams told me—he survived the Styx. 

I heard his muffled voice on the other end, crackling with the reception and his puberty, but I couldn’t make out the words. 

"We're on our way like you asked, almost to the Queens-Midtown Tunnel. But, Percy, what are you planning? We've left the camp virtually undefended, and there's no way the gods—"

More muffled words, quick and sure, and then the line went quiet. Annabeth stared at the phone in her hands. 

“He hung up on me.” Her voice was a mix of shock and anger. 

I couldn't help but let out a laugh. For a terrifying second, I thought she was going to lunge at me. And then her face broke into a wide grin and she doubled over. Her siblings followed, and soon the whole van dissolved into giggles. 

“I only know one person who would be stupid enough to hang up on Annabeth Chase.” Malcolm finally got out between fits of laughter. 

“And that’s Percy Jackson.” I finished for him. 

[aswallowssong]

I'm? Crying?

Omg okay so I KNEW I had read some CM fanfic with triplets and a girl named Kit. I really thought you wrote it but turns out it was SwallowSong. I think I thought you’d written it bc your writing styles are very similar. It makes sense that you two are friends.

YES that's my BRENNA and we've been BESTIES since 2020!!! she started writing all of that even before we were friends but we do have a super compatible writing style (and also our brains overlap a lot, we share the same braincell). she's written some really sweet and brilliant PSLOC things too and she also had a HUGE part in how Aaron has developed! and she's a super talented writer of her own things, she's doing Sicktember right now and she's KILLING it!

[aswallowssong]

Y'all I'm sobbing go read this fic my little (she's 23 oops) sister is writing it's so good. Love my Angie 💕

Daughter of the Sea

This one is dedicated to @aswallowssong. Thanks for being the Cady to my Angie, and thanks for trusting me with your beloved daughter of Apollo. It's been a blast getting to know her <3

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Drachma for Your Thoughts (Read on AO3)

“Drachma for your thoughts?” 

Cady’s voice pulled me out of my swirling head and back to where we were sitting on the beach. It was well past curfew, but Percy had left earlier that evening with Nico to finally start the plan that the son of Hades had suggested almost a year ago now. A plan so dangerous, so insane, that the mere thought of my brother going through with it meant I had been on the verge of a total breakdown all day. So when I showed up to the infirmary well past midnight, my eyes bloodshot and my hands trembling, I didn’t argue when Cady suggested we take a walk to the beach. 

The harpies hadn’t been very active this summer, anyway. 

“I’m just thinking about how in a week all this will be over.” I kept my eyes on the dark waves in front of me, but I could feel that Cadys’ were trained on me. I wished I could just walk into the sea and run away from it all, but I knew things weren’t much better under the waves. 

“Four days until your birthday.” Her voice was more somber than I had ever heard it. What she should’ve said was “four days until Percy’s birthday.” It didn’t matter that we were twins. His was the one that counted. 

“Four days until the end of the world.” I was trying to make a joke, but Cady didn’t laugh. 

“Do you ever think about the mortals?” I asked after a couple minutes of the waves being the only sounds between us. 

“What?” 

“They have no idea their whole world is hanging in the balance right now. They have no idea what's going on, the war we’re fighting, the battle that will determine the fate of…everything. They have no clue what we’re about to do for them. They just think there’s some really bad storms.” My words spilled out and I didn't try to stop them. There was no point censoring myself with Cady. 

She was quiet again before chuckling lightly, which caught me by surprise. “I think about them all the time. I think…I think that’s who we’re really fighting for.” 

I finally turned my head towards her, and I could see a look of resolute determination on her face in the pale moonlight. 

“We have to fight for those who can’t fight for themselves,” she continued, “whether that’s the gods who are too busy or mortals who can't know the danger they’re in.” 

I let her words settle on me as a smile crept onto my face. I thought about how much older she looked in the shine of the silver moon, and how much she had taught me about the world we shared in the past year. So much of the half blood I was, or was becoming, was thanks to her, Percy and Annabeth. 

“That’s very heroic, Cady.” 

She shrugged, her expression unchanging. “It’s our job.” 

I had never thought of it that way before, but as soon as she said it, I knew it was true. If demigods had one purpose in the world, it was to span the gap between the gods and mortals—to fight both of their battles. It always had been. 

My gaze wandered from the waves to the sky above and I began absentmindedly searching for stories in the sky, the ones that Annabeth had taught me—anything to get my mind off everything that had happened that day. My eyes landed on a new constellation, the form of a hunter who seemed to be a little older than a girl—Zoë. Percy had told me about her, how she was a Huntress of Artemis who had died fighting the Titan Atlas while defending him and, ultimately, the gods. 

Her place was in the sky now, as Beckendorff’s was underground. Along with Lee Fletcher. And Castor. And so many others that had been lost in the past year. 

Would I, too, find my own place amongst them soon? Would I join my namesake in the sky with my brother close behind as our souls found their way, hopefully, to Elysium? 

“I only met her once.” Cady’s voice once again saved me from my thoughts. I peeled my eyes off the sky and turned to her. 

“The Hunter?” 

She nodded. “I saw you looking at her. She was strong, and brave, and very wise.”

“Do you think we’ll end up there someday?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them, and Cady furrowed her brow. 

“Angie…”

“I guess there’s already an Andromeda constellation, so probably not—” 

“Angie!” Cady cut off my pathetic attempt to downplay my question. “Why would you say that?” 

I met her eyes and immediately wished I hadn't. Something about them made me drop the walls I always had up. Maybe it was because I was so close to the sea, which always made me feel more honest. Or maybe it was the inherent vulnerability of being under the night sky after midnight. Or maybe it was just because Cady had become the closest thing to a sister I had in the past year. 

But whatever it was didn’t matter as I let out a heavy sigh and took a deep breath. 

“I don’t think I’m walking away from this, Cady.” 

Her eyes got sad. 

“You’re gonna be okay.” 

I started getting flashbacks to my conversation with Percy just the night before that had sounded a lot like this. I heard his words echoed in my own.

“I wish I could trade places with him. Take what is supposed to be his.”

The words were a lot harder to say than I thought they would be. Cady was quiet, but I knew she understood who I was talking about.

“It should be me, anyways.” I finally got out. 

“Why would you say that?” 

“Can you imagine a world without Percy?” 

Her eyes fell to the sand and she took a deep breath before answering. “No.” 

I wondered if she was remembering those awful two weeks last summer like I was. The time we feared we had lost him for good. 

“Me neither. I don’t…I don’t think I’m supposed to live in a world without him. I don’t know how to explain it, but I just know. So if that means I give my life so he lives, it’s what I’ll do.” I had never been more sure of anything in my entire life. 

“Angie—“

“No, Cady. I’m serious.” I met the girl's eyes, and all I saw staring back at me was fear. And pain. And heaviness. Eyes that were usually as bright as the sun, kind and shining with her father’s light, were as cold and dark as the moon. 

“It should be me.” I kept talking in the heavy silence. “Percy’s the hero, he’s the one everyone needs. If he was gone, camp would never be the same. You know it’s true, you felt it last year. Everyone would be…lost.” 

Cady looked like she wanted to say something, but stopped herself. 

“No one needs me that way. Maybe…” tears filled my eyes as I started to verbalize the one thing I had known for so long, but could never utter, “maybe that’s why I was sent here so late. Maybe that’s my destiny. To save my brother, the real hero, so he can fulfill his purpose. Fulfill the prophecy. Maybe I’m supposed to be the spare. And—” my voice broke— ”maybe that’s not a bad thing.” 

“Angie, we’ve talked about this.” Cady’s eyes were filled with exhaustion. 

“I know! But this time…this time these thoughts aren’t coming from Kronos. It’s not because I don’t think I’m good enough. It’s because I think I am. Just maybe. Maybe I’m enough to save him. To give him a future. To give everyone a future.” I watched as Cady's eyes filled with tears, her shoulders slumping even more. She stayed silent, as if she could tell there was more I needed to say, and I took a deep breath. 

“For my whole life I never knew where my place was. It took me fourteen years to find it, to be shown it. And I know I haven’t been a part of this world for very long, but from the second that trident appeared over my head, I stepped into a shadow I didn’t even know was there. And I spent a long time resenting that shadow, even if I wouldn’t admit it. But the past few months, few weeks really, I realized—maybe that’s the point. Maybe if I can be a shield for Percy, somehow, that will be enough. Maybe I was brought here—“ 

“You weren’t brought to camp just to die.” Cady's words were sharp, cutting like the knives she loved to throw. 

“But what if I was?”

Cady just sighed. “What aren’t you telling me?” 

“What?”

“I can see it in your eyes. There’s something you’re not saying”

I took a deep breath, wondering if I was that bad at hiding my feelings or if she was just that good at reading them. 

“Hestia visited me this afternoon.” 

“Hestia?”

“Ya, like the goddess.” 

“I know who Hestia is. But why did she visit?” 

“She…” Now that I had to put it into words, I was having a hard time making sense of it. Between helping Percy prepare to leave, and feeling the need to be strong for the other counselors and younger campers after Beckendorff’s funeral, I hadn’t had much time to process her words. I told Cady everything the goddess said—the parallels between the original Andromeda and myself, the way that the fates of my brother and I were tied just as Perseus and Andromeda’s had been. I told her about the warning she gave me, how I shouldn’t fight Percy's battles. 

“She said that learning to yield is powerful, and sometimes more important than fighting.” She was quiet for a while, probably trying to untie all the words I had laid in a tangled mess at her feet. 

“What does that even mean?” 

“I have no idea.” I began tracing my fingers in the sand, doodling seashells that didn’t hold their shape. 

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

I let out a sigh—keeping any secrets around Cady was hopeless. 

“I told you she warned me. But what that warning was…I’m really scared, Cady.” 

My best friend's eyebrows pulled together as a concerned frown grew on her face. She reached a hand over and gripped mine tightly, the feeling grounding me and giving me the strength to continue. 

“She said that I needed to learn to control myself, learn to yield, or I would ‘doom us all.’ Those are the words she used. ‘Doom us all.’” 

“That’s encouraging.” 

Cady’s words were so dry, I burst into laughter. She quickly joined me, both of us unraveling as we howled into the night. It must’ve been a ridiculous sight—and we were getting too loud, I knew it. Soon the harpies would find us, but we didn’t stop. We laughed until tears pooled in our eyes and our sides hurt. 

It felt strange. There was nothing to be laughing at, really. Percy was gone. We were at war. The titans were getting closer by the day. But even so, we were laughing. It was almost as if we could forget it all, even just for a moment. 

But then that moment ended. 

Our laughter died and soon the sound of the waves was once again the only thing between us. The air grew heavier, and with it, my heart. The lightness the laughter had brought flew away on the wind, and we were left alone in the black night once again. 

“I wish I knew what she meant.” 

“I think…” Cady hesitated, as if she was afraid to keep going. “I think she was pretty clear, actually.” She turned to face me again, and her eyes were that mixture of gentle and serious that I had only ever seen her pull off. “You can’t fight Percy’s battles for him. When the time comes…maybe you step aside.”

I shook my head. “I can’t do that. Maybe…Maybe that’s not what she means.” 

Her eyes got sad. “You need to realize that you’re not Percy.” Those words would’ve been harsh coming from anyone else. “You don’t need to be Percy. You said it yourself—ever since you got here, you’ve been living in his shadow, a shadow you didn’t even know was drowning you. And sometimes I wonder if you stay there because you think you have to. Because you think you’re not worthy of the sun.” 

Tears rushed to my eyes quickly as her words knocked the air out of my lungs. 

“But believe me when I say this, Angie—everyone is deserving of their place in the sun.” She managed a smile, and I swear the stars shined brighter. “You don’t have to live in Percy’s shadow. It’s like the myth—your destinies are intertwined, Percy’s success is yours. That means that you can do different things, be different people, and still stay connected. You don’t need to stay in his shadow for that.” 

“But what if—” my voice caught and I couldn’t stop the tears from falling onto my cheeks. “What if I don’t do enough, and he dies. What if I don’t try and protect him, and we lose him.” 

Cady took a deep breath as if the very thought pained her. “If Percy is…fated to die, there’s little we can do. But we don’t know that. Prophecies are tricky, and hard to understand. And the more we try and change them, or work against them, the quicker we make them come true.” She looked into the sky before continuing. “What if you interfere and that ends up causing more harm?” 

A sense of hopelessness washed over me. “I don’t want to live without him.” 

I saw a tear streak down Cady's cheek. “I know. But someone has to keep on living when others die.” 

I felt my eyebrows pull together as a terrifying thought crossed my mind. I had never considered that I would live past this week, past my sixteenth birthday. I had made up my mind that Percy was the one walking away from this, not me, and I was determined to do anything I could to make that happen. 

I hadn’t considered other people might be thinking the same thing, might be making those choices, too—regardless of what other people wanted. 

“You don’t think you’re walking out of this either, do you?” 

Cady dropped her head, staring at the sand. “I know I’m not.” 

“Cady—” 

“You’re not the only one who wants to protect people.” Her head snapped up, and I saw a harshness in her eyes. “This is what I’ve been trained for. My siblings walk away from this. You walk away from this. Gods willing, Percy walks away from this. But not me. Not if I can save them.” 

My head felt like it was spinning. No no no, it screamed. This isn’t right. It as to be me, it has to—

“They need you, Cady.” 

She shook her head. “Nobody needs me. They'll miss me, sure. But they’ll be alright. They’re strong.” 

“I need you.” Desperation and fear were swelling in my chest as I choked back a sob. “I can’t do this alone.” 

“You’re not alone, Angie. You never have been. And even when I go, you never will be.” 

Her words weren’t making sense to me, and panic rose in my stomach as I thought about the very real possibility of losing Cady and Percy within the next week. And Annabeth. And Rosie. And—

I was about to break into hysterics when I felt Cady's hand on my arm, with it the familiar feeling of her magic spreading across my nervous system. Usually I didn’t like when Cady used her gifts on me without asking, but in this moment, I was glad. I couldn’t go down that spiral. I would be falling and falling into the darkness for days—that was a bottomless pit I knew I would never be able to climb out of. 

“Thanks, Cades.” I breathed out as her healing touch calmed my anxiety. I took a deep breath, my first one all day, and met her burdened eyes. 

“You’re gonna be okay, Angie. We don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybe we all walk away from this.” But I could tell she didn’t believe her words. “But even if we don’t, you’ll still be okay. Maybe staying behind is what you were sent for—if there’s still a Camp Half Blood in the next week, they’ll need someone to turn to. They’ll need a leader. They’ll need you.” 

I shook my head instinctively. “I’m not—” 

“But you are, Andromeda. You’re Percy’s sister. You’re Poseidon’s daughter. Whether you like it or not, that power is already within you. Everyone else sees it. It’s about time you start seeing it, too.” 

It was all too much. I clenched my eyes shut and forced myself to listen to the waves, to think of nothing else but the sound as they crashed onto the shore. No more wars, or battles, or prophecies, or doomed brothers, or self-sacrificing best friends. No more gods and titans and doomsdays. Just the sand under my fingers and the sea in front of me. 

It didn’t work. 

“I’m not who everyone thinks I am. I can’t be what everyone needs me to be.” 

I was on my feet and sprinting away from the water before Cady had time to call my name, and I didn’t stop running until the door to Cabin 3 was slammed shut behind me.

[aswallowssong]

I haven't forgotten y’all my brother has just been in town, I'll have Sicktember to post soon when I have a computer and a moment to breathe 💕

[aswallowssong]

Reblog if you're okay with receiving asks for backstory info on any/all of your fics.

If not all, specify which ones in the tags.

[aswallowssong]

Sicktember 2024 #7: Borrowed Hoodie

The idea for this was, literally, "Aaron’s hoodie being passed around like a healing balm." It was @themetaphorgirl's prompt, and I love her for it, because if there's anything I love, it's when the person that's usually the whumpee becomes the caretaker, even in the short form. Honorable mention comment goes to @fragolinaa, who said, and I quote: "Alex calling him Aaron is the equivalent of showing a glock"

Spencer

“I’m tired,” Spencer mumbled against Aaron’s side. It was Friday night, and they were at another one of Derek’s football games. Aaron knew the rules of football against his will, having been Derek’s roommate the year before, but it seemed that no matter how many times he tried to explain them to Spencer, it wasn’t sticking.

That, or Spencer couldn’t get over why a sport about passing and running had to be so violent. He didn’t like it when they tackled one another, which was every play, and he really didn’t like it when Derek got tackled. 

“I know, Bug,” Aaron said gently, pulling Spencer closer to him as his eyes stayed locked on the field. It was getting colder as the season went on, and Spencer was shivering, so some extra snuggles were in order.

“I wanna go home,” Spencer whined, flopping down so his head could lay in Aaron’s lap. 

Aaron ruffled his hair. “I know, Bug,” he echoed. “The game’s almost over. I told Derek we’d try to stay for the whole thing. There’s four minutes left.”

“That could take a million years,” Spencer mumbled, and when Aaron’s hand paused against Spencer’s scalp, he noticed how warm his ‘little brother’ felt. 

His mouth tugged down into a frown, and he looked over at Alex, but she wasn’t watching them. She was buried in her book, her back against James’ side while he watched with rapt attention. James liked to give Derek specific praise after his games – something he said that Ned always did for him – and while it was sweet, it made him oblivious to the world for the two hours they were on the bleachers.

“Bug?”

“Mhm?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Spencer nestled further into Aaron’s lap, the tip of his thumb between his teeth. “Mm. ‘m cold.”

Aaron sighed. Spencer ran mystery fevers all the time, and they usually found out the cause later in the night, or the next day. Some cold, or flu, or worse, a stomach bug that reared its ugly head and made them all stressed out for a week, and usually got Aaron sick, too, in the process.

He thought for a second before stripping off his hoodie, and then laying it over Spencer like a blanket. Spencer sighed in relief, snuggling into it and balling his fists in the soft, blue fabric.

“That help?” Aaron asked, and Spencer nodded sleepily, closing his eyes as he turned his face into Aaron’s stomach. 

“Uh huh. Thanks, Bubba.” __________

Alex

They’d been fighting about it for five entire minutes.

“Birdy, come on.”

“I’m fine, Aaron. Leave me alone.”

Aaron, not Bubba. I really must have done it this time.

“I won’t,” Aaron said, moving to try to stop her as she marched down the sidewalk. “You’ve been trying to dodge us all day, I barely caught you now, and I had to ask Penelope for your work schedule.”

“How did Penelope get my work schedule?”

Aaron gestured vaguely, moving again so he was in front of his pseudo-twin. “Penelope could find the president’s schedule if she wanted to.”

Alex rolled her eyes, not moving to push back the hair that was blocking some of her face from his view. She always pulled her hair away from her face, she’d said once that it was a sensory nightmare, but she didn’t have a headband or a clip pulling it back, and it wasn’t in a ponytail or a braid like she usually did.

“Are you mad at me? Is this about Spencer? Because if you’re mad at me, you shouldn’t be avoiding everyone, just tell me what I did.”

Alex huffed, pushing past him again. “I’m not mad at you, you’re reading into it.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, but then used his lank to his advantage, stepping in front of her again. He put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her in place, and bent a little to look her in the face.

“Birdy, please, come on. Spencer’s worried, he doesn’t know why you’re avoiding him.” When he said it he knew it was a low blow, but he was starting to feel anxiety like bubbles popping in his chest. “I told him I’d make sure you were at dinner.”

Alex looked up at him after a second, some of her face still blocked by her hair,, and if looks could kill, he would have been six feet under.

“Let go of me, Aaron.”

“Alex–”

“I have homework to do. I’ve got too many things–”

Her words cut off as she shuddered under his hands, goosebumps erupting on her arms as she shivered in weather that was already too warm for him to be wearing his hoodie in the first place.

“Woah,” he said reflexively, “Are you… cold?”

She shook her head quickly and shivered again, before tucking her face away from him, and he didn’t even think as he reached out and gently grabbed her chin, turning her head so he could actually see her face.

When he did, everything clicked into place.

“Holy shit, Alex, you look awful.”

She frowned, and to his horror, her lower lip started trembling. “Stop, Aaron–”

“No way, Bird,” he said, the popping of anxiety in his chest going from slow moving bubbles to sparks like fireworks. “No wonder you’ve been a ghost today, you should be in bed, not running around trying to dodge us.”

“I’m fine,” she tried to say, but it was painfully obvious she wasn’t, and Aaron took a second to breathe before he was rubbing his hands up and down her arms, trying to help somehow. He was good at taking care of Spencer, but Spencer was ten.

Plus, Alex was usually the one taking care of him, and Spencer, so how was he supposed to do anything to help her?

“We should… find James. I’ll text James. He can meet us back at my room, and he’ll know what to do.”

She started to protest, but as she shivered harshly again, all of the fight seemed to go out of her. Her eyes started to fill with tears, and she nodded slowly. 

“Okay.”

He thought for a second before unzipping his hoodie, and he helped her thread her arms through the sleeves before zipping it for her. It hung like a dress down to the middle of her thighs, but she didn’t seem to notice, or felt too awful to care.

After a moment she leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his torso and burying her face in the fabric of his shirt. 

“Thanks, Bubba.”

“Of course,” he said automatically. “Of course, Birdy.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, too.” __________

Haley

“You don’t have to do this, Ari. It’s sweet, but you’re gonna–”

“Hay, James said you probably should be with someone to watch your fever. It’s fine, I don’t care about getting sick. I care about you.”

Haley sat next to him on the bench outside of Roosevelt house, her head laying against his arm as he tried to coax her into following him back to Lincoln house. He’d thought she was acting weird at dinner, and by the time she’d finally admitted to him that she wasn’t feeling all that great, Alex and James had taken Spencer back with them and the others, granting them enough privacy for him to convince her to let him help.

She’d fought going to the nurse harder than he thought she would, but he’d been able to convince her to on the thermometer in his backpack, normally reserved for Spencer. After that he’d called James, and she’d already gone inside and grabbed a tote bag with the things she thought she might need.

When she’d gone in she’d been wearing his hoodie, which he’d given her even after she’d protested that she was going to get germs on it, and he’d fully scoffed. Odds were he was going to get sick anyway. When she’d come out with her bag and was still wearing it, he’d told the bees in his stomach to knock it the fuck off.

“Harper just…” she turned and muffled a cough into her elbow, but he finished the thought for her. “Is the worst?”

She laughed and shook her head, clearing her throat before speaking again.

“She just gets really freaked out about getting sick and missing class, and missing cheer. It’s like, she would rather die.”

“That’s a little dramatic,” Aaron said simply, rubbing Haley’s back. She’d started shivering again, and it was making him anxious. “People get sick all the time. Spencer and I get sick all the time. You’ve got like, a cold virus or something, and it’ll go away.”

Haley turned and raised a weak eyebrow at him. “A cold virus, or something?”

“I don’t want to be a doctor,” he said simply. “I want to be a lawyer.”

“A man with ambition,” she said, teasing him, but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it. She was more miserable than she was letting on. “I like that.”

“And I like you feeling well,” he said, standing up and offering her his hand. “Come on, Haley. It’s alright, I promise.”

She looked up at him, glassy eyed and fever flushed, and sniffled quietly before taking his hand and letting him help her up. He grabbed her bag, even though she protested, and couldn’t help but feel a swell of fondness at the fact that his hoodie dwarfed her, the sleeve pooling around their connected hands while the other completely covered her hand. He nodded towards it, giving her a shy smile.

“When JJ’s cardigans do that to Spencer’s hands, she calls it ‘Sweater Paws,’ like he’s a kitten.”

“Are you calling me a baby?” She said, but she laughed listlessly, so he knew she wasn’t serious.

“It’s cute,” he said, trying and failing to not blush like a moron.

“Well, maybe I should wear your jackets more often. Not just because I’m so cold.”

“You’re hot.”

“Wow. Forward.”

“I mean–!” He blushed darker, fumbling for the right words. “You know what I meant! You have a fever!”

“I know, I shouldn’t be giving you a hard time,” she said, leaning her head against his arm as they walked. “Thanks for letting me stay. I feel silly about it.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I already said it, I don’t care about getting sick. I care about you.” ___________

James

James was raising an eyebrow at him, though it looked misplaced on his pale yet darkly flushed face.

“Your hoodie won’t fit me.”

“Try me,” Aaron said, holding it out to him. “Or do I need to help you put it on?”

James grumbled, taking it from him. “This is silly.”

“You’re the one that tried to hide in a study room to finish homework instead of calling your dad and telling him to pick you up in the first place.”

“I didn’t know Penelope had tagged us.”

“Well,” Aaron said, “Yeah, the ethics on that are sketchy. But how else was Alex supposed to find you when you didn’t show up after classes let out? And then no one could find you for two hours until Penny finally ratted on herself!”

He hadn’t meant to get a little loud, and only noticed when James winced and rubbed at his temples, but James was usually their rock. The fact that he’d been the one to go MIA hadn’t sat right, and he’d been fighting off the anxiety ever since.

“I didn’t mean to worry everyone,” James said quietly. He’d pulled Aaron’s hoodie on, which had stopped the fever chills a little bit, and had fit, which Aaron had known it would. It was just baggy enough in the shoulders to fit James’ broader ones. “I wanted the opposite.”

“Well you got the not-opposite,” Aaron said, way too flustered to think of a good retort. Instead he stared at James longer than was appropriate, and was startled when someone honked their car horn.

“Shit,” he said at the same time that James said, “Stars,” like they were in a southern sitcom.

“Jeff, cut it out!”

Ned was walking up to them, concern etched onto his face, while Jeff, his best friend and bakery partner, was sitting in the driver’s seat of the van, sheepishly waving and mouthing “sorry.”

Aaron liked Ned. Ned was a good dad.

“Mini, why in the world would you have stayed here feeling bad when you know I would’a come to get you right quick had you called? Alex sounded worried out of her mind.”

“That’s just Alex,” James said, but Aaron watched him quickly wilt as he laid eyes on his dad. “It’s not that bad.”

“He’s got a fever over a hundred n’ one,” Aaron said, his accent strengthening the second he heard Ned talk. “He’s full’a crap.”

Ned nodded at Aaron, ruffling his hair before he grabbed James’ backpack off the ground. “Thanks, Bubba. Charlie’s anxious to get him back. Mama’s worried.”

He said it in James’ direction, but didn’t take his eyes off Aaron, and it made him feel warm inside.

James got up to walk with him back to the car, mumbling a thanks to Aaron, but was half way there when he turned around.

“Oh, Aaron, this is your hoodie.” He started moving sluggishly to take it off, but Aaron shook his head. 

“It’s fine. I’m not worried about it.”

“Didn’t your brother pick it for you, though? It’s important.”

Aaron nodded, taking a beat before shrugging. “It is. A, um. A different brother needs it right now.”

He watched as James’ face went from confused to thoughtful, a small and sheepish smile crossing his face before he nodded, turned, and followed Ned to the car.

[aswallowssong]

Sicktember 2024 #6: Dizziness/Vertigo

Welcome to my first installment (this season, iykyk) of "Aaron Hotchner, my sweet sweet baby, I'm so sorry to do this to you." I love playing in @themetaphorgirl's PSOLC sandbox (tysm my queen), and if it also means I can write soft things about Aaron, it's a two-for-one!!

“Shut up, or die!”

“You literally cannot threaten me with death over this! Hotch!”

Aaron looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow, tugging at his earlobe. He hadn’t been listening, but there were three other big kids in the room, and he had no idea why he’d been the chosen target of the whining.

“What?”

“Derek said he was gonna kill me!”

Derek rolled his eyes at JJ, crossing his arms over his chest. “I did not. I didn’t say how you were going to die, I just said that the options were shut up or die.”

Aaron’s eyebrow only raised further on his face. “Sounds like witchcraft to me, Jayje. I’d watch out.”

Derek spluttered for a moment, arms failing before he started babbling about how he couldn’t be doing witchcraft, because witchcraft is for girls and he was a man, but Aaron blocked them back out sometime around when Penelope started assuring Derek that, oh, no, men could definitely do witchcraft.

He had way too much to do to be worried about that. The english paper he’d forgotten to write and been mercifully granted an extension on was due at the end of the weekend, and he was still three chapters away from being able to outline the damn thing, let alone actually write it. Thankfully he was a good writer, and he knew that, but his spelling was awful, and he was going to need Alex to go over it with a fine tooth comb before he could submit it.

And he couldn’t have her look at it until it was written.

And he couldn’t write it until it was outlined.

And he couldn’t outline it until he’d read the chapters, which the little kids were going to make impossible to get through.

He’d considered moving to Alaska when Spencer wriggled under his arms and into his lap.

“Bug,” he said, an apology already in his mouth. “I really need to focus, can you go sit with–” He cut off, looking around.

Alex was at the library, working a long shift so she didn’t have to work on Sunday night, and could go over his paper with him.

Dave was writing something on his laptop with an expression that was giving ‘violent’ and ‘don’t come near me.’

Emily was nowhere to be seen. Probably out with that guy Ian that Aaron hadn’t met but definitely hated on principle.

Which left–

“James?”

James looked up at the same moment that Spencer deflated.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t wanna sit with James, I wanna sit with you.”

Aaron ran a hand down his face. His eyes were blurring, even with his contacts in, and the words had started swimming on the page. He hadn’t even been reading that long, but if eyes could ache, his sure were. That, and his ears hurt. But his ears always hurt, so, what else was new.

“I know, Bug, but I need to be able to focus on this.”

“I’ll be quiet!” Spencer pleaded, dropping into a whine immediately. “I won’t be distracting or wiggly, I promise!”

A pout settled on Spencer’s little face, and Aaron closed his eyes and took a breath before shaking his head.

“We can watch a movie or something when I’m done, but my eyes are already tired, so I just need, like, an hour of space.”

Spencer huffed, his shoulders slumping, and slid off Aaron’s lap to go sidle up to James. James, unphased, beamed at Spencer while ruffling his hair. 

“Do you wanna help me with this math problem, Bug? I know how much you love numbers.”

Aaron turned his eyes back to the book, and it felt like the page was swirling. He closed them for a second, a hand reaching up to press on his temple. When did the headache come on? Usually he could feel them starting, but it felt like it had gone from nothing to pounding.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, rubbing slow circles on his left side, and when he cracked his eyes back open, he’d managed to dislodge one of his contacts. “Fuck.”

Thankfully, it didn’t seem like anyone had noticed his slowly crumbling composure, and he stood up, setting his book down on the arm rest. The world moved in a dizzying spin, and he reached out to steady himself on the back of the armchair. It seemed that the only person that noticed was Dave.

“Where are you going, fagiolino?”

Aaron scowled, stomach swirling with how dizzy he suddenly was. “I knocked my contact weird. I’ll be right back.”

James and Spencer both looked up at his voice, and then back down as Spacer said something about matrices that James clearly didn’t understand. Dave, looking unimpressed, shrugged, and went back to glaring daggers at his computer. 

The others didn’t seem to even notice, still arguing about witchcraft.

He stalked out into the hallway, and when he was nearly to his room, everything tilted, and the pain he’d been feeling in his temples and his ears seemed to throb in sync, sending the world sideways. One of his shoulders hit the wall, and his knees buckled as the edge of his vision started to darken.

Aaron wasn’t a stranger to passing out. It happened relatively frequently, but usually when he was sick. He wasn’t sick.

Or, he hadn’t thought he was? He’d been tired, sure. Spencer had been having crazy nightmares as the weather shifted, something about tinfoil being a bad window insulator. He didn't know what that meant, but he hadn’t given it a huge amount of thought past calming him down, and promising that the windows were closed tightly, and that while Lincoln House was sort of shitty, it wasn’t bad enough to be drafty. 

He didn’t get to contemplate it, because he slid into a crumpled heap of limbs against the wall, the darkness almost overtaking him before he glimpsed someone come into view in the hallway. They might have shouted his name – his actual name, Aaron – before he slumped the rest of the way sideways to the ground, his consciousness left behind.

When he came to, not very many seconds later, he only knew two things. Someone was pulling on him, and he was definitely going to throw up. The latter, he was used to. That happened pretty much every time, and then the nausea abated. 

He usually got a warning, though, when he was going to pass out, so he was either in a bathroom already, or in bed, if he could be, with his little desk trash can ready to be used for its secondary purpose, right after throwing away abysmally incorrect math assignments.

There had been no warning this time, so he was mildly surprised that after he gagged, there was a trash can (maybe the one that lived in the hallway?) being shoved under his chin. He was sick immediately, coughing and heaving several times before it let up, and he shuddered, wiping his mouth along the back of his hand and willing himself not to cry. The dizziness usually abated, but it was hanging on, and the throbbing in his head or the pulsing of pain in his ears hadn’t stopped, either.

“You’re okay,” he heard, finally registering that someone was holding him up. “Did you know your ears are leaking?”

Aaron didn’t know that his ears were leaking, but he wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t a stranger to ear infections by any means. He just didn’t know how it could have gotten so bad they were leaking, and he hadn’t realized.

It took another second for him to register the voice that was speaking to him, muffled as always. Everything was always muffled.

“James?” He mumbled, a little surprised, but not unhappy. He’d rather James find him like this than Dave, or one of the younger kids, or god forbid, Spencer.

“That’s me,” James said, pulling him the rest of the way upright. The world spun a little faster, and Aaron swallowed his stomach down. “You know, if you’d told Alex you were sick, she would have traded her shift.”

“I didn’t know,” he said, sounding far away to himself as he fought to shake off the fog. “Just had a headache.”

That’s a lie, he heard a voice, Alex’s probably, say simply in his head.

It wasn’t a lie. At least, it wasn’t until it was. 

“Snuck up on me,” he amended, to at least have a sliver of truth between them.

James sat with that for a second, moving so Aaron could push his back against the wall. He’d always thought that James had the sort of eyes that looked at you, but looked through you more, like he was analyzing you in a polite way. Alex talked all the time about James’ dream to be a doctor, and there were moments where Aaron could see how perfect of a match that would be.

“You probably have an ear infection, probably both of them,” he said, his tone void of emotion, save for sympathy. James didn’t do pity, and Aaron appreciated it. “Do you have a fever?”

“Dunno,” Aaron said, and James pressed a palm against his forehead.

His face pulled, just slightly, before he said, “I think so.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Aaron looked up at him with lidded eyes, trying to focus on his face as everything spun.

“Really dizzy.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Well, I– Yeah. Yeah I figured that, you passed out.”

Aaron felt himself flush, more than embarrassed that James had seen that, but the stubborn part of himself won out. “I didn’t mean to pass out, James. It’s not like I wanted to collapse in the hallway.”

“Well, your ears are definitely infected. They’re literally leaking, so your equilibrium was bound to be off. And you definitely have a fever.”

He stopped, pulling his phone out, and Aaron took half a second too long to figure out what he was doing before the phone was up to his ear.

“Jame–”

“Al? Yeah, hey sorry, I know you’re at work. Aaron’s sick, do you think you could call someone to come cover your shift?”

“James, stop–”

“Yeah, I think his ears are infected. He said he’s really dizzy, and he’s definitely got a fever.”

Aaron gave up, knowing he wasn’t going to get anywhere, but let himself be incredibly grateful James didn’t mention him passing out in the hallway. Alex would freak.

“Yeah, text me when you’re leaving. I’ll get him in bed. I’ve got it … Spencer? No, Spencer is helping Dave figure out the best synonym for ‘star,’ so I think that’ll take a while … Yeah. Okay. See you soon.”

He hung up, looking down at Aaron with half a grin. “She’s worried, but she’s coming when she can. Think you can get off the ground?”

Relief flooded through Aaron against his will. He didn’t want Alex to worry, but he did want Alex to come back.

“I think so,” he said, trying to get the world to stop spinning by sheer force of will. He didn’t want to ask James for help, but it turned out he didn’t have to. James was about as tall as he was, and broad, which helped when he offered Aaron his hand and was able to help pull him up to standing. 

The dizziness was bad, and it didn’t help the nausea either, but he kept a stable hand on Aaron’s arm as they started down the hallway.

[aswallowssong]

If y'all aren't reading this you're so so wrong

Daughter of the Sea

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Hold Fast (Read on Ao3 here)

I wandered around for a while, trying to make any sense of the conversation I had just had. But the more I thought about what Hestia had said, the more confused I felt. And the more angry I got. I had spent the last few weeks coming up with every possible way to take Percy’s place, made peace with the fact that dying was worth it if it meant I was saving him. But now I wasn’t sure. 

In a way, hearing from Hestia affected me more than hearing from my father would have. I knew Poseidon had been watching over me my whole life, but it was Hestia who was protecting me day in and day out. It was Hestia who took up residence in the fireplace of our home and kept vigilant watch on me. Out of all the gods, she knew me the best. And hearing her say words I knew were true but I didn’t want to hear put me in a sour mood. 

I eventually found myself on the archery range. It was empty, which was extremely odd. I had never seen it so quiet—Apollo had a lot of kids, and they were all talented archers. You could always count on someone practicing their gifts while the sun was still shining. 

But not today. I guessed that a lot of the campers wanted to go back to their cabins or do something to take their mind off the funeral. I didn’t blame them. 

I pulled out the throwing knives I always kept on my belt—four beautiful bronze blades with golden hilts that glinted in the light. 

They had shown up on my doorstep last November with my name on the package, and Percy had been extremely jealous. I reminded him that he didn’t use throwing knives, but that didn’t seem to change his mind. The only thing accompanying the gift was a small piece of pristine white paper, no bigger than a business card, with a beautiful, golden and shimmering symbol of the sun on it, almost like the one in Tangled. I looked down the empty hallway, shrugged, and picked up the package. I waited a few days before opening them, just to make sure it wasn't some sort of trap, and found that they were perfectly balanced and fit in my hand exactly. I still hadn’t found out who sent them, but I had an inkling of an idea. 

I still wasn’t fantastic at throwing knives—Percy and I were notoriously bad at ranged weapons—but I had gotten a lot better in the last year. I usually hit the target, and one out of every fifty or so times I would hit the bullseye. I considered that an impressive improvement. 

Cady had insisted I train in the weapon in case my sword ever got knocked out of my hand, she said a demigod should never be caught defenseless. I didn’t need to worry about losing my weapon anymore, thanks to the gift from my dad, and even without a sword I had learned to wield my abilities enough to always be able to defend myself, but what started practical soon turned comforting. I usually gave up on anything that I wasn’t immediately good at, but I had decided to stick with this one, and it was nice to see my hard work was starting to pay off. It felt good to have something to work at, something I had to struggle in. Something I could see improvement in—it gave me a sense of control over my life. Which, as a demigod, didn’t come often.

I had just loosed my first knife when a rustling in the grass behind me made me whip around. 

“Juniper!” I called when I saw the elfish face. “You’re lucky I didn't have that knife in my hand anymore.” 

“I know!” she squeaked. “I’m sorry, Angie.” She stood up from where she was crouched in the grass. “I shouldn’t have been sneaking, but I need to talk to you.” 

I gave her a curious look. Now that she was closer, I could see her eyes were tinged green—chlorophyll from crying, I told myself. 

“Is this about Grover?” I tried to keep my voice gentle, but she let out a small sob at the mention of her boyfriend’s name. 

“The naiads told me that you were going through Chiron’s reports this morning and there was a report from a protector in Canada and he mentioned Grover in it.” Her words came rushing out, getting closer to hyperventilating by the second. 

No secrets here, I thought. Those naiads are the worst gossips. 

“I did see a report, yes. It was talking about how—” 

“Can you come with me, Angie?! I can’t be away from my tree for too long.” Even though she asked me a question, she didn’t wait for an answer. She grabbed my wrist and started dragging me towards the woods, and I gave up any hope I had of retrieving the golden knife stuck in the target. 

She didn’t stop running until we had come to a small clearing near her tree. I could see Zeus’ Fist standing tall in the middle of it and the sight sent a shiver up my spine. It had been a full year since the Battle, a full year of tension and loss and war. The clearing was a reminder of my first few weeks at camp, and a reminder of how far I had come. But it was also a reminder of my failures. 

“Now, what were you going to say about Grover?!” Juniper looked so hopeful, I didn’t know how to break the news to her. 

“Well, the letter didn’t exactly say anything about him.” 

“What?” 

“It was from a protector, Gleeson Hedge, I think, asking for Grover’s help. It was addressed to him. I don’t know why it ended up here.” 

“But—” Juniper looked like she was about to cry again when a voice startled both of us. 

“Ah ha!” I turned to see an old, fat satyr waddling towards us with surprising speed. He had a smug look on his goatish face. “It is obvious he has run away from his duties, abandoned us all. Trust me, nymph, you are better without that traitor.” 

Juniper’s green skin took on a red hue, and I wondered what it would look like for a tree nymph to fly off the handle. I didn’t know Grover well, I had only spent a little time with him last summer, but I knew he was Percy’s best friend. I knew he was brave, and funny, and was there for my brother when no one else was. In short, I knew I wasn’t going to put up with this old goat talking about him like that. 

“That’s not true, umm, whoever you are.” I snapped at him. 

“Whoever I am?!” He sounded utterly offended. “And just who are you?” 

“This is Angie Jackson!” Juniper announced proudly. “Percy’s sister.” 

The satyr’s nose crinkled. “Of course I should’ve guessed by her impertinence.” 

If I knew what that word meant I was sure I would’ve been offended. 

“Nice to meet you…” 

“Leneus! Lord of the Wild and Member of the Council of Cloven Elders!” 

I only caught about half of what he said. 

“Oh, alright. Sounds important.” 

He let out an aggrieved huff and stuck his nose in the air. “It is important, thank you—” 

His sentence was cut off by a small boy in black jeans and an aviator's jacket appearing out of nowhere. Leneus let out a scream. 

“Whoa, am I interrupting?” The pale boy looked more tired than I had ever seen him, and the sight of him made my stomach drop. On one hand I was glad that the conversation with the angry satyr had come to an end, but on the other, I knew what him being here meant. I knew what was about to begin. 

“Hey, Nico.” 

He gave me a small smile. “Hi, Angie. Nice to see you again. Know where Percy is?” 

I had gotten used to that question in the last year. “No, sorry.” 

“Will someone explain to me what's going on?” the satyr asked in the most annoying voice possible. Juniper ran and hid behind her tree. 

“Sorry, there’s usually no one here.” Nico said in a sheepish voice. “I came to see Percy.” 

The satyr let out a huff and rolled his eyes. “I have heard far too much about that upstart today.” 

I was about to tell the old goat off when a large hellhound came bounding through the trees and barrelling into the clearing. I reached for my necklace instinctively and was about to pull on it when I saw the glimmering collar around her neck. My hand relaxed as Mrs. O’Leary ran up to Nico and began to lick his face excitedly—which is quite the sight when the dog's tongue is almost as big as the boy. The son of Hades broke into a wide smile, but Leneus and Juniper weren’t as pleased. 

I was too busy laughing at the sight to see the boy jogging behind the hellhound, but when Nico perked up and nodded to someone behind me, I spun around. My heart beat a little faster when I saw who it was. He cracked a smile when he saw me, but his expression was immediately replaced with confusion. I understood why—he was walking into a strange quartet. 

"Will someone—what is this underworld creature doing in my forest!" Leneus began shouting, waving his arms and trotting on his hooves as if the grass were hot. "You there, Percy Jackson! Is this your beast?"

"Sorry, Leneus," Percy said. I swore I could hear the faintest hint of laughter in his words. "That's your name, right?"

The satyr rolled his eyes. "Well, of course I'm Leneus. Don't tell me you've forgotten a member of the Council so quickly. Now, call off your beast!"

Mrs. O’Leary let out another bark, shaking the ground a bit. Nico had found a tickle spot right behind her ear. 

The old satyr gulped. "Make it go away! Juniper, I will not help you under these circumstances!"

Juniper turned toward my brother. "Percy," she sniffled. "I was just asking about Grover. I know something's happened. He wouldn't stay gone this long if he wasn't in trouble. I was hoping that Leneus—"

"I told you!" the satyr protested. "You are better off without that traitor."

Juniper stamped her foot. "He is not a traitor! He's the bravest satyr ever, and I want to know where he is!"

Percy had just opened his mouth, probably in protest, when the hellhound barked again. Leneus’ knees started knocking. "I . . . I won't answer questions with this hellhound sniffing my tail!"

Nico looked like he was trying to not crack up. "We'll walk the dog,” he volunteered, “Won’t we, Angie?" He turned towards me with an expression that told me he wasn’t asking. I pushed away the feeling of cold dread that crept up my spine whenever I was around him. 

“Umm, sure!” Percy looked uneasy as he shot me a cautious glance. I nodded at him, and he looked back to Juniper. Percy and I were getting better at communicating without words, twin stuff, I guessed, and I knew what he was trying to tell me—be on your guard. It’s not that we didn’t trust Nico…but as children of Poseidon, we had to be a little more careful around the other kids of the Big Three. Especially since Hades didn’t like Percy all that much. 

He whistled, and Mrs. O’Leary took off like a shot to the other end of the grove. Nico raced after her, and I took that as my cue to follow. 

When we finally caught up to the hellhound, she was sniffing around some boulders the way she did when she was about to, uh, relieve herself, so Nico and I gave her plenty of space.

“You’re nervous about what comes next.” Nico spoke, his voice grim. It wasn’t a question. 

“Yeah.” I couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“It’s the only way, Angie. The only way Percy has a chance against Luke.” 

I knew he was right. But that didn’t stop me from hoping. “What if there is another way? Maybe there’s something that I can do—” 

“Angie, how many times do we have to go over this?” 

I snapped my head towards him, desperation filling my eyes. “Everyone keeps telling me the same thing! But I won’t give up on him! Not until—” my voice broke and I took in a sharp breath. “Not until I can’t fight anymore.” 

Nico’s eyes softened, and he looked more sad than usual. Which was saying something. “I understand wanting to hold on to him. Trust me, I do. but you have to let go. You have to believe when people tell you this is his fight. The things that are coming…” he got a faraway look in his eye, like he was looking through me into a scary future. “We’ll need you.” He focused on me again. 

Nico was always saying strange things. Being a child of the underworld, he spent most of his time underground, talking to ghosts. And ghosts could see more than livings could, sometimes even into the future. Nico always knew more than other demigods, but he had learned quickly that most of the time, those things were for him alone. It was almost impossible to get information out of him. 

“Everyone keeps saying that, too. But it doesn’t make me feel better.” 

Nico cracked a small smile, and I noticed the way it made his dark eyes shine. When he didn’t have a permanent scowl on his face, he actually looked pretty kind. “I know. But give it time—sometimes the only way to understand something is by going through it.” 

I considered the small boy, and decided he was much too wise for a twelve year old. 

Mrs. O’Leary, finished with her business, bounded up to us and nearly knocked me over. We pet her for a little bit before Nico turned his head in a curious way before announcing, “Let’s head back.” 

I didn’t question him. 

We reached the clearing in time to hear my brother say, “I've got worse enemies than overweight satyrs." 

"Good job, Percy.” Nico said as he walked up to him and Juniper. “Judging from the trail of goat pellets, I'd say you shook him up pretty well."

Percy gave him a weak smile, and I could tell he knew why the son of hades had come calling. "Welcome back. Did you come by just to see Juniper?"

Nico blushed. "Um, no. That was an accident. I kind of…dropped into the middle of their conversation."

"He scared us to death!" Juniper said. "Right out of the shadows. I heard that Angie got a note about Grover when she was going through Chiron’s reports, but it didn’t say anything helpful.” She sounded so dejected, but immediately perked back up. “But, Nico, you are the son of Hades and all. Are you sure you haven't heard anything about Grover?"

Nico shifted his weight. "Juniper, like I tried to tell you…even if Grover died, he would reincarnate into something else in nature. I can't sense things like that, only mortal souls."

"But if you do hear anything?" she pleaded, putting her hand on his arm. "Anything at all?"

Nico's cheeks got even brighter red. "Uh, you bet. I'll keep my ears open."

She nodded glumly. "I hate not being able to leave the forest. He could be anywhere, and I'm stuck here waiting. Oh, if that silly goat has gotten himself hurt—"

Mrs. O'Leary bounded back over and took an interest in Juniper's dress.

Juniper yelped. "Oh, no you don't! I know about dogs and trees. I'm gone!"

She went poof into green mist. Mrs. O'Leary looked disappointed, but she lumbered off to find another target, leaving Nico, me, and Percy alone. The atmosphere immediately shifted into something tense and dark. My brother turned to face me, putting a hand on my shoulder. 

“I think I need to talk to Nico alone for a bit. Stay here?” 

I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. “Yeah, okay. Just…just don’t leave without saying goodbye.” 

His eyes got sad. “I won’t.” He ruffled my hair a bit, and this time, I let him. Nico gave me a small smile, his face still a shade of red, before the two boys turned and walked deeper into the woods. 

I sat in a small meadow that was on the edge of the clearing we had been standing in, passing the time making and unmaking small flower crowns. Katie Gardener had taught me how to make them, although mine were never as good as hers were. I knew I should be doing something more productive, like practicing my throwing knives, running sword drills, or even working on strengthening my abilities, but I couldn’t make myself do any of that. It all felt too heavy. Just as I was about to get up and walk back into camp, assuming Percy had forgotten about me, he came running back into the clearing. 

“Angie?” 

I made my way over to him quickly. “Are you leaving?” 

I could tell by the look in his eyes that the answer was yes. 

“It’s time.” He didn’t have to say more. 

I threw my arms around his neck and didn’t try to stop my tears from soaking the shoulder of his orange Tshirt. He held me close, smoothing my hair and whispering some comforting words that I wasn’t paying attention to. Before long, he pulled away. His eyes were red and wet. 

“Don’t go.” 

I knew it was selfish of me to say. I knew it wasn’t fair. I knew he didn’t want to be anyone’s martyr just as much as I didn’t want him to die. He didn’t ask for any of this—and he didn’t need any more reminders of how close to the end he was. 

“I have to, Angie.” Percy sounded exhausted. Now, just the two of us, he let his shoulders slump and there wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face. 

“You know It’s the only way to stand a chance against Luke. If he’s invincible, then I have to be, too.” He continued. “We’re no match for the Titan army. You know that. This comes down to me and Kronos.” The words sounded like they were coming from someone else, his eyes faraway and distant. I recognized them as the ones Nico had told him, almost a year ago. 

“But it’s not fair!” I sounded like a petulant child, but I didn’t care. “It’s not fair that it has to be you.” 

Percy sighed like he was disappointed I was only now figuring this out. “It’s not.” He admitted. “But the life of a demigod isn’t fair. Especially for a child of the Big Three. It’s…it’s just our fate.” 

He tried to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear, but I flinched away from him. 

“But I don’t want to lose you! I can’t lose you! I don’t know how to—” the words caught in my throat, a sob taking their place. I dissolved into tears, and before I knew it, Percy’s arms were around me. I didn’t try to fight him. 

“Can I tell you a story?” 

It was such a strange thing to say that it caught me completely off guard. 

“What?” My voice cracked. 

“A story my mom, our mom, told me when I was very small.” He began. “And one I’m sure she would’ve told you. It’s the reason why she named me Perseus in the first place.” 

“Because he was a hero?” 

Percy chuckled. “That’s what I thought at first, too. But no. Because, against all odds, he is one of the few heroes who managed to find his way to a happy ending.” I thought about that for a moment. His happy ending was living a life with the person he loved, Andromeda. I wished that could be true for Percy and me, but the thought felt too far away to reach. 

“When he was a very little boy,” Percy continued, “he and his mother were placed into a wooden chest and cast out into the sea by a very angry king. Alone. Afraid. And at night, his mother would whisper in his ear: ‘Hold fast, Perseus. Brave the storm that was made to break us, for we are unbreakable. As long as we have each other.’” 

Percy whispered as he smoothed my hair. My breathing began to steady. 

“As long as we have each other.” I echoed. “Don’t go where I can’t follow.” 

Percy chuckled, probably remembering the time I forced him to watch all of the Lord of the Rings movies this past year. I had always loved that quote, and after he heard it, it had become our mantra.

 “You’re such a nerd.” There was a smile in his voice. A comfortable silence fell over us as we held onto each other, not knowing when either of us would get to hug our sibling again. When he spoke again, his voice was low and gentle, but very sure. 

“So…hold fast, Angie. That’s what mom said to me when I first came to Camp, when I was figuring all this out. Hold fast. Brave the storm.”

“Hold fast.” I echoed, wanting the words he was saying to sink into my heart and find a permanent place there. 

 I had only known Percy for about a year, but in that time, he had become a part of my soul. The thought of losing him tore me apart. Every fiber in my being was screaming at me to hold onto him forever, to never let go. I wanted to beg him to take me with him, plead to take his place. 

But I knew it was no use. In that moment, I knew I wasn’t strong enough. But Percy was. 

And more than that, I knew Percy would never let me. This was a journey he had to take on his own, and I would just have to find some other time to save him further down the road.

I let go of him and looked into his sparkling eyes, identical to mine. 

“You can do this.” I put all the power I had into my words. “I’ve never believed in anyone more than I believe in you.” 

He managed a smile. “I’ll see you again.” 

“I know you will. We are unbreakable, as long as we have each other.” 

I swore I saw tears begin to pool in his eyes, but I didn’t say anything. He pulled me into another hug, tight and quick, before letting go and messing up my hair. And this time, just this once, I let him. 

Then he turned and disappeared into the darkness, only stopping to look back once. 

[aswallowssong]

We've also named this AU, it's The Kids Aren't Alright, so I'll be tagging it like that from now on

Sicktember 2024 #2: Overindulgence

Did @starstwinkleplanetsshine and I also create a Marauders AU? Of course we did. Have we ever named an AU together? Naturally, no.

“Pads be careful! You can’t have sweets!” 

“I can’t have chocolates, love. If I couldn’t have sweets then I’d have to stay far away from you.”

Sirius booped the tip of her nose, and she giggled, taking a moment before gesturing to the bag he was holding.

“You think those are nice?”

The sweets in Sirius’ hand were bright, somewhere between yellow and orange, and he’d been eating them for most of the night. He couldn’t have the Chocolate Bats she’d been feasting on herself, what with his chocolate allergy, which she loved to tease him about. What with the dog thing, and all.

“Yeah,” he said, popping another one in his mouth. “Sometimes they make you float, but Mrs. Flume has some that she keeps without that part. I want to eat them without worrying about smacking my head about the ceiling, you know?”

Clara giggled, popping another chocolate into her mouth. He’d lost track of how many she’d had, but he didn’t really care. It was Friday night, and they were holed up in the Room of Requirement, so if she had a sugar-high and couldn’t get to sleep, it wasn’t like they needed to be in class in the morning.

And it wasn’t like there weren’t other things they could do if she had trouble sleeping.

“Makes sense,” she said, swallowing and tilting her head. “I don’t know if I’ve ever had one.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Peggy doesn't share candy,” she said simply, and Sirius briefly tried to think of an interaction to refute that, but came up blank.

“Huh.”

“They're her favorites, but she's stingy with them. She doesn't even share them with Moony.”

“Well, Moony doesn't care for them. He only ever wants chocolates.”

The word sat heavy in his mouth, and he suppressed a shudder, watching Clara pop another into her mouth.

Instead, he pulled her against his chest, settling his arms around her and dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “Do you want any Firewhisky?”

She shook her head against his chest. “Níl,” she said, “I'm alright. I just want to sit like this.”

He chuckled, tightening his arms a little. “You don't want to play fiddle?”

“You really meant that?”

She'd turned towards him then, a light in her eyes. Sirius knew she loved to play his violin, knew it was a more expensive instrument than her parents could have ever afforded to buy her or her sisters. He'd seen her fiddle; it was an old, well loved instrument with just enough quality to not sound abysmal.

They didn't get a lot of time to play anymore, and he nodded quickly. “Of course I did. I love listening to you play.”

“Will you play first?”

He hesitated for a moment. Playing brought back raw memories, but the shine in her eyes made it impossible to say no. He nodded, wiping some chocolate from the corner of her mouth and kissing her forehead as he stood up.

“Of course, dearest. Anything for you.”

He played for a while, settling into it the longer he had the bow in his hand. It had been at least a month, if not more, so his fingers ached as they pressed on the strings, but he didn't care. He could feel Clara’s eyes on him, and chuckled, mid song, when she finished her chocolates and started in on his Whisbees. She made a face at the first one, probably not expecting the way it fizzled like carbonation in her mouth, but he watched her eat another, and another, so they must have grown on her.

They were quite nice, and she seemed content and happy. What else could he want for the love of his life?

After a little while he finished the songs he'd memorized, at least that he still cared to play, and held out the violin and bow.

“Alright, my sweet. Your turn.”

She grinned, a little manic in expression, and he realized she must definitely have a sugar-high, just like he'd feared would come. She scrambled to her feet, dropping the now empty bag of Whisbees before taking the bow and the violin in her hands. She took a moment to run her hand along the body of the instrument, and when she looked up, the sparkle in her eyes could have outshone the sun.

“Thank you, mo ghrá.”

He felt a wide grin split his face, and he kissed the tip of her nose.

“Of course, dear. Go on, give a– what is it Brianna always says, a ditty?”

She giggled, high and bright, and he could have drank it in and never needed anything else to sustain him.

He watched her play several songs, her body moving with the cadence of the music in a way he'd been taught never to let his own. She bounced and swayed, her eyes closed and a smile on her lips as the folk music of her childhood flowed from the strings. He could have sat there an listened to her play forever, never growing tired of it, when she started to slow, a frown crossing her face before she stopped playing completely, a puzzled and uncomfortable look on her face.

“Love?” He asked, shifting to sit up fully, confusion filling him. “Is something wrong?”

“I…” she started, stopping and swallowing. “Maybe. I think–” She cut herself off, turning slightly as she stifled a large belch with her fist.

Sirius’ eyebrows raised.

“Wow.”

“Excuse me,” she mumbled, eyes shut as her eyebrows drew together.

Sirius frowned. Clara would have normally made some sort of side remark or comment about how often the boys belched in front of her, but instead she looked… in pain?

“You alright, dearest?”

“Um–” she stopped short and held out the violin to him. He stood quickly, taking it from her and moving to place it in its case.

“Love?” He said over his shoulder, but was only met with a quiet moan and another muffled belch, which only caused anxiety to twist in his chest.

Sirius straightened up and turned back toward Clara to see that she still had a hand over her mouth, but the other was now curled protectively around her midsection.

“Clara?” He said, hating the way the worry came through in his voice. He crossed toward her, speaking all the while.“Clara, love, what's wrong?”

“I–” she swallowed hard, shaking her head as another, wet belch escaped her. When she spoke again, her voice was panicked. “I'm gonna be sick.”

How badly his own chest seized at her words was, in his opinion, incredibly embarrassing. They were nearly seventeen, something as simple as illness shouldn't cause him to get flighty. Yet, he had to fight his instincts to not flee for the door as the color drained from Clara's face.

“What?”

“I'm gonna be sick, I'm–” her sentence cut off, turning into another wet belch that became a gag as Clara clamped a hand down hard over her mouth.

Sirius didn't know what he was doing next, but his body acted for him, whipping his wand out to… what? 

What am I supposed to do?

There was a pop, and Sirius looked down, startled, so see that a bin had appeared out of thin air, directly next to him.

He would have stopped to wonder how it had gotten there, and later realized it was because it was something they required and been immensely grateful, but in the moment he simply grabbed it and shoved it under Clara's chin. His other arms wrapped around her as he guided her to sit on the ground as gently as he could, and it was only a moment before she moaned again. It was short lived, her breath catching as she stiffened.

“Siri–”

She didn't get his full name out before she buckled forward, a thick belch giving way to a wave of sick, her hands clutching at the edges of the bin so tightly that her knuckles went white.

Sirius made sure the bin was stable before pulling her hair back and hastily securing it with the elastic around his wrist.

“It's okay, dear,” he said, trying with everything he had to keep his voice even. Confident. “You'll be alright. Don't be frightened.”

He knew the last sentence would fall on deaf ears. If he knew his Clara, she was already on the doorstep of a panic attack that her body didn't have time for. She vomited several times, each time coming just at the end of a painful sounding belch, and by the third time she heaved, there were quick tears flowing down her cheeks. By the fifth, she was sobbing, fear and discomfort completely taking her over.

He was frightened as well, but more than that, he was broken over the fact that he couldn't fix it. All he could do was rub her back, right along her spine, and tell her she wasn't alone, and that it would end.

“It's alright, dearest,” he said quietly after a particularly strong round. “You're okay. I'm right here, and I won't let anything happen to you. It's going to be alright, love. Try to breathe.”

After several unsuccessful attempts, Clara was able to draw a full, deep breath, and then another, and another.

Her death-grip on the edges of the bin released enough for Sirius to push it away, but not out of reach, and turn her to pull her into his chest, where she shuddered and sniffled, matching his breathing as he continued to take full, even breaths.

He let her even out a little more before speaking quietly.

“How are you feeling now?”

It was a moment before she answered, voice rough from vomiting. “I'm n-not sure.”

“That's alright,” he said. “Why didn't you tell me you were feeling ill? We didn't have to come up here tonight.”

“But I wasn't,” she said, her tone absolutely honest. “I wasn’t and I'm still not. Or, I wasn't, and then I really was, and now it's going away. That didn't feel like any other time I've been sick before. I've never…”

He looked down at her, and her cheeks were a flush of red, but when he pressed a kiss to her forehead, she wasn't warm.

She's embarrassed. But why would she be embarrassed? He thought for a moment and came to a conclusion, but it seemed silly.

“You've never, what?”

“I've never… well. The, you know. The belching. That's not normal when my stomach’s ill. Only sometimes when I've had a soda, back home, but they don't make me sick. But what could have–”

“The Whisbees,” Sirius said suddenly. “That's what they remind me of, something you had us try when we visited you and your family over summer.”

“Sprite,” she said automatically, clearing her throat and shifting back. She was still pale, and obviously uncomfortable, but she didn't look like she was about to be sick again. “I thought so too, the way they're nearly carbonated, but I don't have problems with Sprite. I never have.”

She sniffled, wiping at the remaining tears on her cheeks. She was obviously still shaky, and he was feeling as much himself. 

Sirius wracked his brain for a reason, any reason, that the sweets or anything else would have made her sick. They'd been in the Room of Requirement since just after dinner, and all they'd done was read, eat sweets, and snog a little.

Maybe a lot.

Dinner had been normal, but filling as always. Then they'd read, snogged, read, snogged. Clara pulled the sweets out, and started in on her chocolate while he'd had his Whisbees. 

Ah.

Things started sliding into place faster than he could get the words out.

“You ate dinner, all that chocolate, and the rest of my Whisbees. That's probably why you're ill, you were too full.”

“But I wasn't, not until I'd been playing a while, and then it just felt like there was air trapped, and so I thought maybe the Whisbees, but then it wasn't just air, it was nausea so, so badly. It's still there, now, though I don't think I'll be sick again… I hope.”

Sirius thought again, trying to figure out what he was missing.

“What sort of chocolate?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Milk, like I always get.”

Anything Nell had ever told him about potions and chemistry flooded his brain at once, and before he realized when he was doing, he reached out and grabbed the bin she'd been so sick into, peering inside to see if he was right.

“Gross, Sirius, what are you doing?!”

“Using my brain for once. I know what made you sick, dearest. You curdled the milk in the chocolate with the acid in the Whisbees.”

Her eyes widened, cheeks reddening as she realized what he was saying. “What?”

“Acid can curdle dairy. Nell told me that once, though I have no bloody idea what we were talking about to get us there. But the curdling and the air from the Whisbees probably made each other worse, and then you'd eaten so much of both, it was bound to happen.”

Clara blinked up at him, cheeks darkening more, and then she buried her face in her hands.

“Merlin, that's so embarrassing.”

“Being sick isn't embarrassing, Clara. Not even when it's your own fault. You didn't know it would happen.”

“But I shouldn't have been eating all that anyway, I've just been so stressed lately and I completely let myself overindulge, and now I ruined our night, and–”

“Hey! Hey, Clara, no.” Sirius took a hold of her shoulders, waiting until she looked up at him. He gave her a small smile. “Love. You didn't ruin anything. I'm just glad you aren't really ill. The worst that happens is your stomachs sore the rest of the night, maybe a little tomorrow.”

“But I was sick,” she said, “I was sick and crying and I know it freaks you out as much as me, and I… I'm sorry.”

He shook his head, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“Don't apologize. I love you, Clara. Isn't there something that says ‘in sickness and in health and when you make bad food decisions?’”

“No, and also, that's marriage.”

His cheeks flushed, but he chuckled, pulling his wand out and vanishing the sick in the bin before scooting back into the pillows they'd been sitting in before, pulling her after him to lay against his chest.

“Well, whatever it is, I love you. And I'd never leave you, even if you did stomach chemistry and made yourself vomit.”

She sighed, laying herself against his chest. Now that the panic had settled down, he was happy to have stayed calm for himself. For her. And he'd been able to take care of her while she was sick, just like she'd done for him multiple times over the years. 

“I love you, Sirius,” she said quietly. Sleepily, probably exhausted from the fear and the heaving.

He kissed the top of her head, rubbing his hand gently up and down her arm.

“I love you too, sweets.”

“Please don't say ‘sweets.’”

He chuckled, pulling her closer to him as he settled into the pillows, and breathing in her shampoo as they snuggled together in the dim of the candlelit room.

[aswallowssong]

Y'all we did name this AU, it's "Love and War in your Twenties," we just forgot because we're stupid 💛

Sicktember 2024 #1: “I’m not hungover, I’m just sick.”

Did @starstwinkleplanetsshine and I create a Heroes of Olympus College AU of our Heroes of Olympus AU? Of course we did. If you haven't read her Daughter of the Sea in the base AU, you can read it on AO3 here!

Percy was decently sure he had been fine when he went to bed.

He and Angie had had one of their Twin Nights, which sometimes meant drinking and going out, and sometimes meant staying in and eating takeout and watching old movies they'd watched as kids.

They’d done the latter, snuggling in Angie's bed and watching Atlantis while wondering back and forth if they would be able to swing a trip back home for Estelle's third birthday. Tickets were pricey, and they hadn't been planning on going home for Spring Break, but their mom had said something about it to them the last time she'd called, and they knew it wasn't her intention, but it made them both feel sort of bad.

Not that Percy was thinking about that anymore. He'd gotten home around midnight, hoping that he would be able to sleep in and enjoy a Saturday without having to be in the pool at six in the morning.

His body, it turned out, had other ideas. Instead of sleeping blissfully into the late morning, he was knelt on the bathroom floor while his body tried to turn itself inside out. 

It had come out of nowhere, and if he was honest. He was lucky he'd even made it to the bathroom before he started puking. He'd gone from a dead sleep to awake and moving too quickly, and it had done nothing good for the other things that had started to become apparent as he knelt there, praying to any god that would listen for it to stop.

The dizziness had come second, or, at least the realization of it had. He hadn't even noticed that being dizzy was the reason he'd nearly gone careening to the floor when he'd scrambled out of bed. Coupled with how cold he was, enough to run awful chills up and down his back, and the awful full-body ache that had settled in, he had to be realistic.

He was sick. Not just “under the weather” either, like Annabeth sometimes said, but truly and properly ill.

It wasn’t long, maybe five minutes and a few rounds of hell, before Annabeth pushed the door the rest of the way open and flicked on the lights.

To say they were murder on his throbbing head, add that to the list, would be an understatement, but he was relieved not to be alone. Especially since about a minute before, he’d rocked forward so hard to heave that he’d whacked his head on the porcelain.

“God, Perce, what the fuck.”

Mad? was as far as his brain got before he was reeling again, but he didn’t feel her hand on his back, comforting him like he wanted.

Why was she mad? Was she mad that he was sick? He knew that she had midterms coming up, and really couldn’t afford to get sick herself, and that he had a ridiculously flighty immune system compared to her rock-solid one, but she wasn’t normally hostile to him.

“Huh?” he managed, holding his head between his hands while his elbows rested on their toilet seat. He squinched his eyes shut, reaching out a hand that was shaking way too badly and trying to find the handle to flush his stomach away.

Annabeth’s hand swatted at his, and she flushed the toilet, shifting her weight back again to cross her arms.

“Why do you do this?”

She’s mad you’re sick, again, his dizzy, pounding brain chided him. He, Leo, and Jason had passed a cold back and forth most of the winter, and he’d gotten over it for maybe the fifth time just the week before.

“I…” he started, and then stopped to stifle a gag into his fist. “I’m sorry,” he eventually rasped. “I know it’s annoying–”

“You have to stop drinking so much when you go out with Angie,” she said, frustration heavy in her voice. “It sucks that I have to deal with the aftermath of you two deciding to overindulge in whatever you decide is the ‘drink of the night.’ I have drafts to work on today, and that second interview this week that I need to prepare for. I don’t have time to deal with you hungover all day.”

It was as if the wild spinning of his head and stomach stopped for a moment. Which, would have been nice, except he realized why Annabeth was so angry. She thought he’d decided to get fucked up with his sister, not that he was sick.

Which, his stomach reminded him, settling back into heavy nausea with a painful cramp, was very much the case. 

He was about to tell her as much when he was sent over the bowl again, retching violently enough to nearly make him hit his head again, which he would have if he hadn’t blocked it with his hand. 

It was a minute before his body let him rest, and he pushed backward enough that his back hit the wall, letting it bear his weight as he dipped his head between his knees. Somewhere in his fever-brain, he recalled Cady making him do that when he was really dizzy and nauseous, but he couldn’t come up with anything else that might have helped.

Annabeth was still standing in the doorway, he could feel her presence there, and he heard himself whine before rasping, “Beth–”

“I don’t want to hear it, Percy. Seriously–”

“Beth, I– I’m not hungover,” he pleaded, closing his eyes so he didn’t feel like he was seasick. Or, airsick. It was worse that he’d ever felt on a plane, though. He definitely hadn’t been this sick in a long while. “I’m not hungover, I’m just sick.”

It was quiet for a moment before Annabeth said quietly, “Bullshit.”

“I sw–swear,” he pleaded. “Angie and I didn’t even drink last night. We decided we’re trying to save–” He took a breath, trying to steady himself so his voice would stop shaking so badly. “Money. To go see Stellie for her birthday.”

Silence hung in the bathroom again, though Percy nearly didn’t notice. It felt like nausea was pulling him under in waves, and it was hard to focus.

Then, there was a freezing hand on the back of her neck, and he heard her sigh.

“Fuck,” she whispered, and then her hand was gone, and he started to hear her move.

He couldn’t focus very long on where she’d gone or what she was doing, because no sooner had the thought come to ask her that he was sick again, and everything in his brain was focused on not falling over while he dry heaved miserably, nothing left in his system for him to throw up.

How long she was gone was a mystery, but he was slouched over the bowl, his forehead resting on his forearm, waiting to be sick again, when she came back.

“Perce? Honey, can you sit up?”

All the frustration was gone, and pity had taken it’s place. Percy didn’t even care, he was so relieved she wasn’t mad at him anymore. He took a shaky breath and sat up slowly, hoping that it wouldn’t set the world spinning even more than it already was.

He blinked his eyes open. Annabeth was a little blurry, since he wasn’t wearing his contacts, but the look on her face was clear enough. He must have looked awful.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, and she shushed him, pushing his bangs back and resting her hand on his forehead.

“No, hon, I’m sorry,” she said, her frown deepening. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to that without figuring out what was going on, I’m just so stressed out with other things that I let them take over.” She was still frowning, moving her hand to cup his cheek. “That fever’s awful.”

“I feel awful,” he said, letting himself lean into the coolness of her hand. “Everything hurts and I’m so nauseous.”

“I know, honey.” Annabeth rubbed her thumb over his cheek before biting her lip. “Do you think you can get up from here? I know you prefer the couch to the bed while you’re vomiting so I moved your pillow and the quilt your mom made you out there.”

“But, you draft at the table,” he said, blinking at her slowly and trying not to let anxiety start in his chest. He really didn’t want to throw up anymore, but he knew he wouldn’t be so lucky. “It’ll be distracting to try to draft while I’m puking out there.”

“Honey, I’m not drafting today,” she said simply, and even blurry, he could see in her eyes that she meant it. “I’m going to take care of you.”

“Cady takes care of us when we’re sick,” he said automatically. Annabeth wasn’t really the caretaking type. Every so often she would, but he knew she didn’t love it, and it didn’t come easily to her. Usually, when he was sick, they called Cady, and she came over and dealt with him so Annabeth could still get things done. That, or she shuttled him over to her and Angie’s apartment, where he stayed on the couch until he was good to come back home.

Annabeth didn’t have time to be sick. She had so many amazing and important projects she was working on. He couldn’t take her away from them because he had what was probably a nasty stomach virus from hell itself.

Still, she was looking at him with such earnest determination that he might have fallen in love with her all over again.

“Yeah,” she said, shrugging simply. “But, maybe I want to. You’re mine.”

He nodded, a weak smile crossing his face, and let her pull him off the floor.

[aswallowssong]

Sicktember 2024 #5: “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

The canon-ish companion to the College AU, @starstwinkleplanetsshine and I should pick one AU and stick to it, but like, never, you know? Written in what we're calling 'Til Forever Falls Apart (The Canon AU™) Honorable mention @fragolinaa. She prompted this and Rosie is her baby and I love her dearly

A hand on his back woke him, though he didn’t remember falling asleep. He was in the forge, and a wire was definitely pressing into his cheek as his head laid on his work station. He blinked his eyes open, immediately wincing at the light of the forge itself, and squinted at the person standing next to him.

“Posie?”

Roseline was standing there, concern covering her features. “I didn’t mean to wake you up,” she said, the concern leaking into her words. “Did you mean to fall asleep?”

He sat up slowly, his head pounding in time with his heartbeat. It felt like all of his muscles were screaming at him to lay his head back down, but he didn’t like the way Rosie’s face pulled into worry.

“I don’t think so,” he said, and when he swallowed, it felt like there was shrapnel in his throat. “What time is it?”

“Almost lights out,” Rosie said, brushing his bangs back to press a hand against his forehead. “You look awful, Ev. And you feel like you’re on fire.”

“S’always hot in here,” Evan mumbled, rubbing at his eyes to try to make them stop aching. “An’ we run warm. God of the forge, and everything.”

“This is way more than that,” Rosie said, and the next thing he knew, he was being hauled to his feet. The world swam a bit, and he had to reach out a hand to steady himself on the edge of his desk.

“Woah, Posie, slow down.”

She stilled, eyebrows furrowing at her step-brother of sorts. Their godly parents were married, which had always meant more to Rosie than it had to the rest of her siblings, and his. But, she took it seriously, and so did he.

“Sorry, sorry. I just– you need to go see Cady. You’re definitely sick, you’re all pale and flushed and weak looking.”

“How can I look pale and flushed,” Evan asked quietly, putting his warm face in his freezing hands for a second.

That’s probably not a good sign, he thought.

“I don’t know! Like, pale on your whole face, but your cheeks are flushed. Like when someone has a fever. You know?”

“Not really,” he mumbled. The more he spoke, the more his throat hurt, and it sounded like he’d decided to swallow screws instead of using them for the… something he’d been building. He couldn’t really remember what he’d been in the forge for, anyway. Everything was foggy and disrupted, what with how badly his head was throbbing. And, now that he was thinking about it, he sort of felt like he was made of jello. His muscles were all protesting being upright.

“I’m gonna sit back down,” he said, and Rosie grabbed his arm.

“No way, Ev. You’re going with me to the infirmary. Cady can fix you up and then you can go to bed. Probably in there, she’s going to want to watch you. You know how she worries.”

“Mhm,” Evan said, though he didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted to stay in the forge, where it was warm. “Are you sure I can’t stay here?”

“Evan Knight, you come with me right now.”

Oop, full name. Better listen.

He knew better than to fight with Rosie when she was set on something, and followed her as she started to pull him out of the forge and into the night air. As soon as they crossed the threshold he shivered, crossing his arms over his chest as he pulled out of Rosie’s grip.

“Gods, it’s cold.”

“It’s not,” Rosie said, worry inching back onto her face. “It’s actually really nice tonight.”

“Can I grab my sweatshirt?”

“No,” she said seriously, grabbing one of his arms, but letting him keep it crossed over his chest. “You don’t need to be any warmer than you already are. You’re going to melt your brain or something, or die from fever poisoning.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” Evan said, frowning as Rosie marched him toward the Big House. “I don’t think fever poisons you.”

“Well what do I look like to you? A healer? An expert on fevers? That’s why we're going to see Cady.”

“Cady can’t fix everything, Posie. Maybe she won’t be able to do anything about it.”

“She absolutely can,” Rosie said with such conviction that Evan’s next comment was stopped in its tracks. 

“Okay, Rosie Posie,” he said softly, trudging along with her even as each step made his muscles scream. “I believe you.”

As it turned out, Cady could do something about it. 

“Did you know you didn’t feel well when you went into the forge?” She asked, a hand against his forehead, and another on the back of his neck. She had her eyes closed as she concentrated on his body systems.

Or, at least that’s what she said she was doing.

He liked the way Cady talked when she was working. It made more sense to him; sharp and clinical, without all the emotions and niceties that made communication… difficult for him at times.

“No,” he said honestly. “But I’ve been really focused on this problem with my helicopter backpack thing, so I’ve sort of had my mind on that.”

She nodded. Cady understood that sometimes when he was focused on a project, his body cues went by the wayside. Maybe he had been feeling sick – he’d never know, and he’d never be able to tell her.

“Sounds about right,” she said, pulling her hands away and settling them on her hips. “That’s a pretty nasty cold. I can do some things right now, but sleep is really what’s going to help. In the morning when Will gets in, he’ll be able to deal with the rest of it. But, I can ease some stuff. Take the fever down. Help you sleep and stay asleep. Okay?”

He nodded, hoping that the sleep part would come sooner rather than later. The longer he was awake, the more miserable he felt.

Rosie was sitting next to him, worry literally radiating off of her, and Evan tried to give her a small smile.

“See, Posie? Sleep.”

“And other stuff!” she said, exasperated. “She literally said other stuff too. She’s gonna fix it. I told you, Cady can fix anything.”

Cady’s cheeks darkened, and she pulled at the navy scrub pants she wore during her shifts. “Gosh, Ros, you’ve got way too much faith in me.”

“No! You don’t have enough faith in yourself.” Rosie turned on Evan, pointing a finger at him. “And you don’t have enough faith in your friends. We love you. Let us love you and take care of you. I’m your big sister, damn it, and I’m going to act like it!”

Evan stared at her for a moment, the passion and fire in her eyes making him forget how awful he felt, until he had to turn away to stifle a bone-rattling cough into his elbow.

A hand was on his back in a second, rubbing gentle circles until the coughing fit passed, and when he looked up and shivered, Rosie was there, giving him a concerned and pitying expression. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, barely audible, and she shook her head.

“No, don’t apologize. Just let us take care of you instead of bruising it off as not a big deal. Sometimes things are a big deal, and that’s fine.” She nodded at him. “You’re allowed to be a big deal.”

They’d told him that before. That he was allowed to take up space and ask for help, and that he needed to take better care of himself, but he usually fell back into the old habits he’d gotten used to as a young kid. Fend for yourself, don’t take up space, and stay out of the way. 

But, it didn’t seem like Cady or Rosie minded that he was sick, or that he was going to take up their time, so maybe he could let himself have some attention. Just this once.

“Okay,” he said quietly, shifting so he could lay his head on Rosie’s shoulder. 

She stiffened for a moment, maybe surprised that he was actually listening for once, and then relaxed, pulling him close to her side. 

“Cady’s gonna do some stuff, and then you can go to sleep, okay?”

He nodded, closing his eyes against the harsh fluorescent of the infirmary, and snuggling a little closer to her side.

“Uh huh. Thanks, sis.”

He could hear the smile in her voice when she replied, pulling an arm around his shoulder. “Course, Ev. Just get some rest.”

[aswallowssong]

Sicktember 2024 #4: "Great. I got a cold for my birthday."

So @fragolinaa and I have been working on a Critical Role AU for... well over a year. The whole thing is called "Twinkling Lights," (all 3 campaign's characters) but each campaign gets their own little name, because that's not confusing at all. Campaign 2 has always been my baby, and the thought was "What if the Mighty Nein were all absolutely chaotic, burned out high school teachers?" So I give you "Twenty Somethings."

Fjord was done with the day before he’d even opened his eyes. There was a steady pounding in his skull, and his throat hurt. Not to mention the fact that his sinuses felt like someone had shoved handfuls of paper towels up his nose. 

Great. I got a cold for my birthday.

Not that he cared much for his birthday anyway. He didn’t actually know what his birthday was, since his parents had left him at the doorstep of the orphanage when he was a baby. They’d picked a date five months before, since that’s how old the doctor said he probably was, and Cuersaar 6th it was.

And Cuersaar 6th it was, and he was sick, and he needed to get up for work before his second alarm went off and he was super behind for the morning.

Thankfully, Caduceus wasn’t into grand gestures of affection in general, but instead small, intimate gestures. So, when he sat down to shove some toast in his mouth, which scraped his already irritated and painful throat going down, and sniffled pitifully, all that met him was a warm cup of tea, and an affectionate hand on his forehead.

“Good morning, Fjord,” Caduceus said, giving him a knowing smile. “Happy birthday. Are you sick?”

“S’ a cold,” Fjord rasped. “Probably got it off Luc.”

Veth’s son loved Fjord, much to her dismay and his delight, but he’d parked himself in Fjord’s lap for all of movie night while his nose ran and he coughed quietly into the elbow of his sweatshirt. Veth and Yeza had said they’d just stay home with him, but no one in their friend group cared about a little cold.

Now, Fjord almost wished he had.

Caduceus hummed knowingly. “Ah, he was real snotty on Friday. Probably. Sorry, friend. I’ll put some tea I think will help in a travel mug for you to take with us.”

Fjord didn’t go a day without feeling like he was so desperately lucky to have a friend like Caduceus. “Thanks, Cad.”

“Mhm. I think there’s some soup left from a few nights ago. I can put that in a thermos for you, if you’d like? For lunch?”

It would have been easy to brush Cad off and tell him that it was fine. He probably wasn’t going to be hungry, anyway. He didn’t even want the toast he was currently choking down, but he knew that he needed something to get him through his classes. 

“I–”

“Let me? Since it’s a day about you?”

That stopped him from declining, and Fjord nodded slowly after a second. Cad knew the mixed emotions that came with his birthday; he had for years. 

“Okay,” he rasped, wincing and taking another sip of tea. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Sure,” Cad said, smiling widely at Fjord, and making him feel a little warmer inside. “I think there’s some cold medicine under the sink. Why don’t you go get some before we leave while I pack this up?”

Fjord nodded, obeying like a child. Regardless of the fact that he was a thirty-one, no, thirty-two year old man, he wished the same thing he’d wished every time he felt poorly since he could remember. He wanted to be comforted, and taken care of, not because it was someone’s job, but because they wanted to. Because they loved him.

And Cad did. He really did. Fjord knew that. But like a friend, or even a brother, and that was different.

He rustled through their bin of medicine that Cad kept stocked with natural and chemical remedies, and found a few blister packs of bright orange cold and flu medicine. He swallowed one pack, and stored the others in his pocket, wishing that he was staying home in a sweatshirt and joggers instead of the khakis and polo he had on for his job. The fact that Cad got to wear whatever he wanted only frustrated him until he remembered that Cad wasn’t going to be teaching Biology, but Culinary and Agriculture. He’d spend half the day outside in the crisp, early Cuersaar wind.

The thought of it made him shiver, or maybe that was the fact that he was decently sure he was sporting a mild fever, but he didn’t let himself dwell too long. He needed to drive to school.

“Cad?” He called, wincing and sniffling quietly as he pulled a jacket over his polo and pulled his keys off the hook.

Gods, he felt awful.

“Coming!” Caduceus rounded the corner with his school bag, already in a coat, and with both their lunch boxes in his hand. He smiled widely, giving Fjord an encouraging nod, and holding out his other hand, which held the travel mug of tea. “Oh, and don’t forget this.”

Fjord managed a small smile, taking the cup from Cad with a nod. “Thanks.”

“Oh sure. It’s a chilly morning, and by the sound of your voice, I’d say your throat needs it.”

It did, and when it was gone before his first period prep was over, he wished it wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t strep – he’d had that enough times in his life to know the feeling – but it was enough that he wished he had a days supply of the warm tea to keep him from rasping so badly while he taught his first two blocks of AP Bio. Several students looked at him with worry, ones that he knew were prone to anxious thinking, and he tried to give them a reassuring look as he explained the circulatory system.

By the end of his third period the cough had started, and the sniffling was getting annoying enough that Fjord had just grabbed a box of tissues from his cabinet and parked it on his desk. He’d already figured he was going to have to restructure his afternoon classes plans to be independent work, as opposed to teacher-led, but he knew his AP students were already worrying about Thunsheer’s test, and he owed it to them to give them everything they needed.

Even if it was at his own destruction.

When the bell for his lunch period rang, he audibly sighed, and when he turned to make sure his kids hadn’t left anything behind, he nearly jumped.

“Shoot! Oh, Orym. You startled me.”

The senior was looking at him with drawn eyebrows. “Sorry. Coach, are you okay?”

Orym had a heart of gold. Fjord noticed too, now, that Dorian was hanging in the doorway. It was unusual to see one without the other, and Fjord sighed, running a hand through his hair that desperately needed a trim.

“I’m fine,” Fjord said, like a liar. He didn’t want to worry Orym more than he already was, especially with the heaviness he already bore. “Just a cold. Annoying, but bearable.”

Orym nodded, and so did Dorian from his sentinel’s post. “Okay. You should see if Nurse Jester has anything that can help. She showed up in Herr Widogast’s room earlier with cough drops.” He smirked a little. “Someone might have narked.”

Ah, Caleb. Caleb’s immune system was made of tissue paper, and as Luc’s uncle, he tended to pick up anything on the kindergartener immediately. 

“Herr too, huh? Good to know. Thanks, Orym.”

“Are we still having practice?”

Crap. Fjord did not want to have practice out in the crisp wind. He forgot they even had soccer that day. Why would he schedule a practice the day after a game? They didn’t have another one until the next week.

“Right, um. Let me get back to you, okay? Come see me after lunch. This is your lunch period, right?”

Orym nodded. “Okay. And then I’ll let the team know in the groupchat?”

“Perfect. I’ll write you a note to show up to fifth period a little late so we can figure it out. Now, go eat.”

Orym smiled, looking back at Dorian and nodding so the other boy would open the door, and they scrambled out to go find Imogen, no doubt. The three of them were a motley crew, but a favorite among his friend group of teachers. He could help but chuckle watching them go, and then sigh when the door closed and his headache reminded him that he was, indeed, sick.

The only good thing was that none of their friends knew when his birthday was. They didn’t know that it was, supposedly and legally, that day, and wouldn’t fret at him about being ill on a day that was supposed to be happy.

It wasn’t particularly happy, anyway.

The first one in his room was Beau, rage in her eyes, and he knew that the peaceful lunch he’d hoped for to let himself feel like crap was not happening.

“Do you know how ridiculous Kaylie can be?!”

Fjord sighed, sitting down at his desk and pulling out his hidden box of crackers, his water, and another blister pack of cold medicine.

Caleb had filtered in after that, looking pale and sucking on what Fjord assumed was a cough drop. He took a look at Fjord, and under Beau’s rant quietly said in a voice that matched his own rasp, “You as well then?”

Fjord gave a tired smile and nodded. “Yup.”

“Isn’t anyone listening to me?!”

“Kaylie is being a menace today because she spent the weekend with her mother, and then yesterday back with her father, so she is having the emotional whiplash,” Caleb said easily, and raspily, but Beau didn’t seem to notice.

“She still doesn’t have to be a monster–”

“Calm down, Beau. She’s seventeen and her home life is a wreck. Well, her mom’s home is a wreck. Let it roll.”

Beau looked at Fjord silently after he was finished, and then sighed, flopping down at her desk and basically throwing her lunchbox down.

The rest of their group filtered in, Cad bringing Fjord his lunchbox when he did, and Fjord savored the way the warm soup coated his stinging throat, and let conversation wash into the background as he settled a little bit into misery. He’d perk himself up when he needed to teach his next class, especially if he’d be dealing with a pissed off Kaylie, but for the time they sat in comfortable companionship, he simply let himself wallow a little.

Jester was eyeing him with worry, he knew that, and it embarrassed him, especially since he’d realized that he was very much in love with her, and she very much still had a shitty boyfriend. He tried not to make eye contact, but when the lunch bell rang and everyone started cleaning up their things to get ready for their next class, she was standing at his desk, holding a bottle of ibuprofen and a bag of cough drops.

“Here. I already gave Caleb what he needs for the rest of the day. You can come to me too, you know? I’m basically here for the students and the teachers. Having a cold while you’re teaching sucks so bad. Let me make it easier.” She leaned in and whispered to him, so no one else would hear what she said next. “Especially on your birthday.”

He felt like he was going to melt under the sincerity of her gaze, and he couldn’t do anything but give a little nod, his heart doing some sort of anxious tap dance when he took the bottle from her and their fingers brushed. 

“Thanks, Jessie. I know, I just… didn’t want to bother anyone.”

“Cad told me that you don’t want anyone to know about today. And I won’t tell anyone, but, maybe on Folsen I’ll bring a cake to Molly and Yasha’s for family dinner. Just because. Not for any reason.”

Her eyes were sparkling, and she was looking at him with no pity whatsoever. She wanted to do it, he could tell, and she wanted to help him, and all those things made it really hard to focus on what he was going to say next.

“I– Alright. Can it be strawberry?”

“Of course it can. And, I know you’re going to say no, but I’m going to get you a present. Don’t tell me no, I’ve made up my mind. You deserve something better than a cold for your birthday.”

She nodded, speaking in a normal voice again. “Also you should cancel practice, since you’re sick.”

“Oh,” Beau said, whipping around at the word ‘practice.’ “I can take the boys today. You should go home and sleep, you look like you need it.”

They were the only ones left in the room, everyone else having left, Cad with a small wave as he’d gone while Fjord had been talking to Jester.

“I–”

“Say yes,” Jester said simply, and shrugged. “Or else.”

“Or… else?”

“Or else.” She turned, her hair nearly smacking him in the face as she skipped out of the room, her pink scrubs a whirl as she spun out the door, and around Orym as he walked in.

Orym looked confused, but shook it off as he faced both Fjord and Beau.

“Hi, Coach Lionette. Coach Stone, did you figure out practice?”

“You guys are going to practice with me and the girls today. Let your team know.”

Orym looked between Beau and Fjord for a moment before groaning quietly. “They’re gonna kick our butts.”

Fjord chuckled, which turned into a cough, and he knew he’d made the right decision accepting Beau’s offer. She didn’t know it, but she’d also given him a present that was better than a cold. All he had to do was get through the rest of the day, and he could crawl in bed and hope he’d wake up feeling better, for a better day altogether.

[aswallowssong]

It's the weekend which means that I can post days 4, 5, and 6! This week at school was crazy (new curriculum is killing me), and my kid has a double ear infection (because my husband has ears that don't work and it's ~genetic~) so to say I'm surviving is an overstatement.

But! It's nap time! So posting time it is!

[aswallowssong]

Sicktember #3: Campus Crud

The HOO AU College AU is back at it again folks, ft. everyone's favorite Boy Toys. @starstwinkleplanetsshine let's name this AU lol

This is so stupid.

“This is so stupid!”

“You’re going to make your throat worse, stop it,” Cadence scolded, giving one Leo Valdez a look that said, if you don’t cut it out, I might kill you.

“But–”

“No, no buts, Leo. Seriously, can’t you just rest? Look at Jason and Percy? Are either one of them making me want to rip my hair out?”

In Leo’s defense, Jason and Percy had gone down before he had, and were in a pile of limbs on the floor, both listlessly watching what Cadence thought was a rerun of RuPaul’s Drag Race. As she looked, she realized that at one point she’d given both boys a damp washcloth for the fevers they were running, but now Jason didn’t have one, and Percy had two.

“Percy–”

“I already know what you’re gonna say, Cades, and he gave it to me. I didn’t steal it.”

She frowned. “I wasn’t–”

“You were. Shh, Ru is talking.”

Cadence rolled her eyes, turning back to Leo. Leo was looking at her like he’d been betrayed.

“Okay, one of them is making me want to rip my hair out.”

“Mhm.”

“Please lay down and stop talking.”

Leo looked like he wanted to revolt, but he played nice, laying back down on the couch and snuggling under the ugly orange blanket he loved so much.

Cadence took a breath. Most of their friends had been down with what Ros, a friend of theirs that was a Sophomore, called “Campus Crud.” Leo’s half-brother, Evan, had already had it, and so had she, so they’d said that it was basically inevitable.

Cadence would have preferred to call it “The Most Annoying Thing To Happen This Semester.” And that was saying a lot, considering they’d seemed to miss it first semester. They weren’t as lucky now, in mid-January, when everyone was bringing germs back from home, or holiday, or wherever they might have been for New Year’s.

She wished Angie was there. It would have been nice to have another set of hands, but it hadn’t taken too long to figure out that as soon as someone was sick, she might as well have been in the wind. Cadence didn’t understand it at all, but then again, her dad was a doctor, her two older brothers were in medical school, and she’d already been accepted into the nursing program, as soon as her Gen Eds were out of the way. For her, illness was a natural part of life.

A natural part of life that was currently driving her insane.

“Hey, Cady?”

She had no idea when the Jackson twins, Jason, and Leo had started calling her that, but it was still weird to hear it from someone that wasn’t at least partly related to her.

“Yeah, Perce?”

“I’m cold.”

“No,” she said simply, “you’re not. Your body is too warm, so it feels more cold around you.”

There was a pause, and she peered over the couch to see him looking at her with an absolutely pathetic pout. “But I’m cold.”

She closed her eyes for a second, knowing that if they were open, there’d be nothing to stop her from rolling them.

He’s sick. Be kind.

“I know,” she said, almost surprised by how calm her voice was. How even. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to give you another blanket if we want your body temperature to cool down.”

“What happened to ‘sweat it out?’ I feel like my dad used to say that.”

“People did used to say that,” Cadence said simply, losing the fight, and rolling her eyes. “But it’s a myth.”

“I like myths.”

“Me too,” Jason croaked. He’d been hit first, and was still very much in the deep end of the nasty cold making its rounds.

“I like myths,” Leo agreed, poking out from his bright orange cocoon. “Especially if they let me be warm.”

“No one is feeling warm,” Cadence said, taking a deep breath to even herself back out. “You can’t sweat out the cold virus that’s making you sick. That’s not how it works. The fever is an effect of your immune system working properly to fight the virus. You’re going to feel cold. You’ll start feeling better when your white blood cells win and your fever breaks.”

“What about the fact that all my muscles feel like they’re made of pain?” Percy said, Jason and Leo humming in agreement, and Cadence pinched at her nose bridge.

“Haven’t any of you been sick before? Actually, don’t answer that. I’ve literally done this with all three of you already this year. Why are we even having this conversation?”

“Well, when Jason was really sick, he was basically incoherent,” Leo pointed out. Jason tried to throw a water bottle at him, but it missed wide.

“Good one, Jay,” she said dryly, and Percy gave a congested chuckle.

“Well, Percy showed up at their doorstep and threw up on Cady’s shoes,” Jason said, and Percy reached out and slapped his arm, betrayal on his face. 

“Hey!”

“Boys–”

“At least I didn’t give myself food poisoning!”

“Ay! The caf gave me food poisoning, sonso, don’t put that on me!”

“Boys!” Cadence yelled, and all three winced, Jason going as far as covering his ears a little. She knew all three of them had wicked headaches, and it was sort of a low blow to yell, but she didn’t need them riling each other up.

She lowered her voice again. “I was just trying to make a point that none of these things I’m saying should be surprising to you three. You’re going to be cold, and achy, and feel bad, because you’re sick. And I’m trying to make this as painless as possible, but I’m also trying to do what I think is best, based on everything I know. I’m also eighteen, and I’m very tired, so just…” she gestured to the screen of Leo’s computer, where they’d been streaming old shows, mostly legally. “Watch RuPaul.”

The boys were all staring at her with varying levels of embarrassment, directly based on how sick they were really feeling. Jason was mostly listless, while Leo looked truly embarrassed, and Percy at least had the gumption to look sheepish.

“Sorry Cady,” they chorused, and she rubbed her temples, exasperated, but she couldn’t stay mad for long. She loved the boys, even when they made her want to freak out.

She sighed. “I forgive you guys.” 

The three of them turned back to the screen, and just as RuPaul announced which queens would have to Lip-Sync for their Lives, her phone rang. The boys booed her, and she rolled her eyes, again, stepping into the hallway.

She let it vibrate another time, taking in the quiet of Leo and Percy’s dorm outside of their room. No boys whining. Noone coughing or sniffling. No RuPaul’s voice through Leo’s shitty speakers. Not, of course, that she had anything against RuPaul. She would have sat down to watch with them happily if she wasn’t about to rip her hair out.

When Cadence felt like she could breathe again, she answered Angie’s call.

“Hello?”

“Cady! How are– are you okay? You sound… defeated?”

Cadence sighed, slumping with her back against the wall. She tilted her head back so it could rest on the wall as well, and closed her eyes. 

“I’m… trying not to be. It’s not usually all three of them, you know? And it’s easier to take care of my own siblings when they’re sick, because I’m their big sister.”

And I’m not doing it alone.

“You’re basically their big sister, aren’t you the oldest?”

“Yeah, which is insane. I’m not nineteen until February. You guys are babies.”

Cadence heard Angie shifting on the other line, presumably laying in her bed, watching something insane or listening to music as loud as it could go. “Whatever. Back to the defeat, if they’re being assholes, tell them that.”

“No,” Cadence said quickly, sliding down to sit, her knees tucked to her chest. “No, they’re not. They’re being whiney, sick, eighteen year old boys. I’ve got one of those back home, too, it’s not like they’re being unreasonable or anything. It’s just easier with one. Or two. Or if they weren’t trying to razz one another.”

“Do I need to come over there?” Angie was obviously trying to keep hesitance and worry out of her voice, but it didn’t quite sell the way she’d obviously wanted it to. 

Cadence couldn’t ask her to come over and be freaked out the entire time, especially when there was a strong chance she’d get sick, too. She was worried about herself at this point, and even though she had a pretty rock-solid system, it wouldn’t have surprised her if she ended up sick by the end of the week, what with the “Campus Crud,” or whatever, running rampant.

“No, that’s okay. Would you mind making a run to the store for me, though? There’s a gold amex in my wallet, you can use that.”

“There’s a gold amex in your wallet?!”

“Mhm,” Cadence said simply, now distracted by trying to think through what she needed Angie to get. “Make sure you have your license on you, because if I have you get cold medicine, they card for that.”

“I– okay but we’re talking about that at some point!”

“Sure,” Cadence said. “I’ll text you a list in a few minutes. None of them have had much of an appetite, but they need to eat something, so maybe I’ll have you grab some soup I can put in the microwave.”

“Microwave soup,” Angie said sagely. “Good for the Campus Crud.”

Cadence laughed, surprising herself. The whole thing was ridiculous. The boys, her position of caretaker, Angie’s fear of illness, and the fact that she was hiding in the hallway. But, as Angie said that, Cadence knew that was exactly what she wanted to do. She wanted to microwave soup, and give medicine, and damp cloths for fevers. 

She wanted to take care of her friends while they were sick, because she loved them, and that was showing them that love the best way she knew how. 

“Can you also maybe get me a sandwich or something? Cadence found herself saying, straightening and squaring her shoulders. “I’m starving.”

“Anything for our nurse. I’ll leave now.”

“Thanks, Angie.”

“Sure, Cady. Thank you. Love you.”

Cadence smiled, turning the knob of the door to let herself back into the fray. Ru told someone to sashay away, and all three boys erupted into raspy shouts, sniffles, and grumbles of protest.

“Love you too.”

[aswallowssong]

Sicktember 2024 #2: Overindulgence

Did @starstwinkleplanetsshine and I also create a Marauders AU? Of course we did. Have we ever named an AU together? Naturally, no.

“Pads be careful! You can’t have sweets!” 

“I can’t have chocolates, love. If I couldn’t have sweets then I’d have to stay far away from you.”

Sirius booped the tip of her nose, and she giggled, taking a moment before gesturing to the bag he was holding.

“You think those are nice?”

The sweets in Sirius’ hand were bright, somewhere between yellow and orange, and he’d been eating them for most of the night. He couldn’t have the Chocolate Bats she’d been feasting on herself, what with his chocolate allergy, which she loved to tease him about. What with the dog thing, and all.

“Yeah,” he said, popping another one in his mouth. “Sometimes they make you float, but Mrs. Flume has some that she keeps without that part. I want to eat them without worrying about smacking my head about the ceiling, you know?”

Clara giggled, popping another chocolate into her mouth. He’d lost track of how many she’d had, but he didn’t really care. It was Friday night, and they were holed up in the Room of Requirement, so if she had a sugar-high and couldn’t get to sleep, it wasn’t like they needed to be in class in the morning.

And it wasn’t like there weren’t other things they could do if she had trouble sleeping.

“Makes sense,” she said, swallowing and tilting her head. “I don’t know if I’ve ever had one.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Peggy doesn't share candy,” she said simply, and Sirius briefly tried to think of an interaction to refute that, but came up blank.

“Huh.”

“They're her favorites, but she's stingy with them. She doesn't even share them with Moony.”

“Well, Moony doesn't care for them. He only ever wants chocolates.”

The word sat heavy in his mouth, and he suppressed a shudder, watching Clara pop another into her mouth.

Instead, he pulled her against his chest, settling his arms around her and dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “Do you want any Firewhisky?”

She shook her head against his chest. “Níl,” she said, “I'm alright. I just want to sit like this.”

He chuckled, tightening his arms a little. “You don't want to play fiddle?”

“You really meant that?”

She'd turned towards him then, a light in her eyes. Sirius knew she loved to play his violin, knew it was a more expensive instrument than her parents could have ever afforded to buy her or her sisters. He'd seen her fiddle; it was an old, well loved instrument with just enough quality to not sound abysmal.

They didn't get a lot of time to play anymore, and he nodded quickly. “Of course I did. I love listening to you play.”

“Will you play first?”

He hesitated for a moment. Playing brought back raw memories, but the shine in her eyes made it impossible to say no. He nodded, wiping some chocolate from the corner of her mouth and kissing her forehead as he stood up.

“Of course, dearest. Anything for you.”

He played for a while, settling into it the longer he had the bow in his hand. It had been at least a month, if not more, so his fingers ached as they pressed on the strings, but he didn't care. He could feel Clara’s eyes on him, and chuckled, mid song, when she finished her chocolates and started in on his Whisbees. She made a face at the first one, probably not expecting the way it fizzled like carbonation in her mouth, but he watched her eat another, and another, so they must have grown on her.

They were quite nice, and she seemed content and happy. What else could he want for the love of his life?

After a little while he finished the songs he'd memorized, at least that he still cared to play, and held out the violin and bow.

“Alright, my sweet. Your turn.”

She grinned, a little manic in expression, and he realized she must definitely have a sugar-high, just like he'd feared would come. She scrambled to her feet, dropping the now empty bag of Whisbees before taking the bow and the violin in her hands. She took a moment to run her hand along the body of the instrument, and when she looked up, the sparkle in her eyes could have outshone the sun.

“Thank you, mo ghrá.”

He felt a wide grin split his face, and he kissed the tip of her nose.

“Of course, dear. Go on, give a– what is it Brianna always says, a ditty?”

She giggled, high and bright, and he could have drank it in and never needed anything else to sustain him.

He watched her play several songs, her body moving with the cadence of the music in a way he'd been taught never to let his own. She bounced and swayed, her eyes closed and a smile on her lips as the folk music of her childhood flowed from the strings. He could have sat there an listened to her play forever, never growing tired of it, when she started to slow, a frown crossing her face before she stopped playing completely, a puzzled and uncomfortable look on her face.

“Love?” He asked, shifting to sit up fully, confusion filling him. “Is something wrong?”

“I…” she started, stopping and swallowing. “Maybe. I think–” She cut herself off, turning slightly as she stifled a large belch with her fist.

Sirius’ eyebrows raised.

“Wow.”

“Excuse me,” she mumbled, eyes shut as her eyebrows drew together.

Sirius frowned. Clara would have normally made some sort of side remark or comment about how often the boys belched in front of her, but instead she looked… in pain?

“You alright, dearest?”

“Um–” she stopped short and held out the violin to him. He stood quickly, taking it from her and moving to place it in its case.

“Love?” He said over his shoulder, but was only met with a quiet moan and another muffled belch, which only caused anxiety to twist in his chest.

Sirius straightened up and turned back toward Clara to see that she still had a hand over her mouth, but the other was now curled protectively around her midsection.

“Clara?” He said, hating the way the worry came through in his voice. He crossed toward her, speaking all the while.“Clara, love, what's wrong?”

“I–” she swallowed hard, shaking her head as another, wet belch escaped her. When she spoke again, her voice was panicked. “I'm gonna be sick.”

How badly his own chest seized at her words was, in his opinion, incredibly embarrassing. They were nearly seventeen, something as simple as illness shouldn't cause him to get flighty. Yet, he had to fight his instincts to not flee for the door as the color drained from Clara's face.

“What?”

“I'm gonna be sick, I'm–” her sentence cut off, turning into another wet belch that became a gag as Clara clamped a hand down hard over her mouth.

Sirius didn't know what he was doing next, but his body acted for him, whipping his wand out to… what? 

What am I supposed to do?

There was a pop, and Sirius looked down, startled, so see that a bin had appeared out of thin air, directly next to him.

He would have stopped to wonder how it had gotten there, and later realized it was because it was something they required and been immensely grateful, but in the moment he simply grabbed it and shoved it under Clara's chin. His other arms wrapped around her as he guided her to sit on the ground as gently as he could, and it was only a moment before she moaned again. It was short lived, her breath catching as she stiffened.

“Siri–”

She didn't get his full name out before she buckled forward, a thick belch giving way to a wave of sick, her hands clutching at the edges of the bin so tightly that her knuckles went white.

Sirius made sure the bin was stable before pulling her hair back and hastily securing it with the elastic around his wrist.

“It's okay, dear,” he said, trying with everything he had to keep his voice even. Confident. “You'll be alright. Don't be frightened.”

He knew the last sentence would fall on deaf ears. If he knew his Clara, she was already on the doorstep of a panic attack that her body didn't have time for. She vomited several times, each time coming just at the end of a painful sounding belch, and by the third time she heaved, there were quick tears flowing down her cheeks. By the fifth, she was sobbing, fear and discomfort completely taking her over.

He was frightened as well, but more than that, he was broken over the fact that he couldn't fix it. All he could do was rub her back, right along her spine, and tell her she wasn't alone, and that it would end.

“It's alright, dearest,” he said quietly after a particularly strong round. “You're okay. I'm right here, and I won't let anything happen to you. It's going to be alright, love. Try to breathe.”

After several unsuccessful attempts, Clara was able to draw a full, deep breath, and then another, and another.

Her death-grip on the edges of the bin released enough for Sirius to push it away, but not out of reach, and turn her to pull her into his chest, where she shuddered and sniffled, matching his breathing as he continued to take full, even breaths.

He let her even out a little more before speaking quietly.

“How are you feeling now?”

It was a moment before she answered, voice rough from vomiting. “I'm n-not sure.”

“That's alright,” he said. “Why didn't you tell me you were feeling ill? We didn't have to come up here tonight.”

“But I wasn't,” she said, her tone absolutely honest. “I wasn’t and I'm still not. Or, I wasn't, and then I really was, and now it's going away. That didn't feel like any other time I've been sick before. I've never…”

He looked down at her, and her cheeks were a flush of red, but when he pressed a kiss to her forehead, she wasn't warm.

She's embarrassed. But why would she be embarrassed? He thought for a moment and came to a conclusion, but it seemed silly.

“You've never, what?”

“I've never… well. The, you know. The belching. That's not normal when my stomach’s ill. Only sometimes when I've had a soda, back home, but they don't make me sick. But what could have–”

“The Whisbees,” Sirius said suddenly. “That's what they remind me of, something you had us try when we visited you and your family over summer.”

“Sprite,” she said automatically, clearing her throat and shifting back. She was still pale, and obviously uncomfortable, but she didn't look like she was about to be sick again. “I thought so too, the way they're nearly carbonated, but I don't have problems with Sprite. I never have.”

She sniffled, wiping at the remaining tears on her cheeks. She was obviously still shaky, and he was feeling as much himself. 

Sirius wracked his brain for a reason, any reason, that the sweets or anything else would have made her sick. They'd been in the Room of Requirement since just after dinner, and all they'd done was read, eat sweets, and snog a little.

Maybe a lot.

Dinner had been normal, but filling as always. Then they'd read, snogged, read, snogged. Clara pulled the sweets out, and started in on her chocolate while he'd had his Whisbees. 

Ah.

Things started sliding into place faster than he could get the words out.

“You ate dinner, all that chocolate, and the rest of my Whisbees. That's probably why you're ill, you were too full.”

“But I wasn't, not until I'd been playing a while, and then it just felt like there was air trapped, and so I thought maybe the Whisbees, but then it wasn't just air, it was nausea so, so badly. It's still there, now, though I don't think I'll be sick again… I hope.”

Sirius thought again, trying to figure out what he was missing.

“What sort of chocolate?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Milk, like I always get.”

Anything Nell had ever told him about potions and chemistry flooded his brain at once, and before he realized when he was doing, he reached out and grabbed the bin she'd been so sick into, peering inside to see if he was right.

“Gross, Sirius, what are you doing?!”

“Using my brain for once. I know what made you sick, dearest. You curdled the milk in the chocolate with the acid in the Whisbees.”

Her eyes widened, cheeks reddening as she realized what he was saying. “What?”

“Acid can curdle dairy. Nell told me that once, though I have no bloody idea what we were talking about to get us there. But the curdling and the air from the Whisbees probably made each other worse, and then you'd eaten so much of both, it was bound to happen.”

Clara blinked up at him, cheeks darkening more, and then she buried her face in her hands.

“Merlin, that's so embarrassing.”

“Being sick isn't embarrassing, Clara. Not even when it's your own fault. You didn't know it would happen.”

“But I shouldn't have been eating all that anyway, I've just been so stressed lately and I completely let myself overindulge, and now I ruined our night, and–”

“Hey! Hey, Clara, no.” Sirius took a hold of her shoulders, waiting until she looked up at him. He gave her a small smile. “Love. You didn't ruin anything. I'm just glad you aren't really ill. The worst that happens is your stomachs sore the rest of the night, maybe a little tomorrow.”

“But I was sick,” she said, “I was sick and crying and I know it freaks you out as much as me, and I… I'm sorry.”

He shook his head, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“Don't apologize. I love you, Clara. Isn't there something that says ‘in sickness and in health and when you make bad food decisions?’”

“No, and also, that's marriage.”

His cheeks flushed, but he chuckled, pulling his wand out and vanishing the sick in the bin before scooting back into the pillows they'd been sitting in before, pulling her after him to lay against his chest.

“Well, whatever it is, I love you. And I'd never leave you, even if you did stomach chemistry and made yourself vomit.”

She sighed, laying herself against his chest. Now that the panic had settled down, he was happy to have stayed calm for himself. For her. And he'd been able to take care of her while she was sick, just like she'd done for him multiple times over the years. 

“I love you, Sirius,” she said quietly. Sleepily, probably exhausted from the fear and the heaving.

He kissed the top of her head, rubbing his hand gently up and down her arm.

“I love you too, sweets.”

“Please don't say ‘sweets.’”

He chuckled, pulling her closer to him as he settled into the pillows, and breathing in her shampoo as they snuggled together in the dim of the candlelit room.

[aswallowssong]

Here's my masterlist of the prompts for this year (maybe this time I'll finish them all!)

“I’m not hungover, I’m just sick” (Or vice versa)

Too much of a Good Thing/Overindulgence

Campus/Con Crud

“Great. I got a cold for my birthday.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up”

Dizziness/Vertigo

Borrowed Hoodie

“The closest doctor is probably hours away from here!”

Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker

The Sniffles™

Medieval Treatment

“You’re not fine, you’re throwing up/coughing up a lung”

Doctor’s Note

Clean Sheets/Fresh Pajamas

“Who decided ______ is ‘sick people food?’”

Toxin/Poison

Brain Fog/Spaced Out

“My body is one big ache”

Hypochondriac Tendencies

Medication Bribery

Anaphylactic Response

“You didn’t use my cup, did you?”

Under a Spell

Tales from the Waiting Room

Summer Flu

Flushed Cheeks

“This is non-negotiable”

Pulling a ‘Ferris Bueller’

Sick on a road trip

Hospital Bed

Some of these are the alternates, because there are things I don't always feel comfortable writing about (or a desire to, tbh.)

[aswallowssong]

Sicktember 2024 #1: “I’m not hungover, I’m just sick.”

Did @starstwinkleplanetsshine and I create a Heroes of Olympus College AU of our Heroes of Olympus AU? Of course we did. If you haven't read her Daughter of the Sea in the base AU, you can read it on AO3 here!

Percy was decently sure he had been fine when he went to bed.

He and Angie had had one of their Twin Nights, which sometimes meant drinking and going out, and sometimes meant staying in and eating takeout and watching old movies they'd watched as kids.

They’d done the latter, snuggling in Angie's bed and watching Atlantis while wondering back and forth if they would be able to swing a trip back home for Estelle's third birthday. Tickets were pricey, and they hadn't been planning on going home for Spring Break, but their mom had said something about it to them the last time she'd called, and they knew it wasn't her intention, but it made them both feel sort of bad.

Not that Percy was thinking about that anymore. He'd gotten home around midnight, hoping that he would be able to sleep in and enjoy a Saturday without having to be in the pool at six in the morning.

His body, it turned out, had other ideas. Instead of sleeping blissfully into the late morning, he was knelt on the bathroom floor while his body tried to turn itself inside out. 

It had come out of nowhere, and if he was honest. He was lucky he'd even made it to the bathroom before he started puking. He'd gone from a dead sleep to awake and moving too quickly, and it had done nothing good for the other things that had started to become apparent as he knelt there, praying to any god that would listen for it to stop.

The dizziness had come second, or, at least the realization of it had. He hadn't even noticed that being dizzy was the reason he'd nearly gone careening to the floor when he'd scrambled out of bed. Coupled with how cold he was, enough to run awful chills up and down his back, and the awful full-body ache that had settled in, he had to be realistic.

He was sick. Not just “under the weather” either, like Annabeth sometimes said, but truly and properly ill.

It wasn’t long, maybe five minutes and a few rounds of hell, before Annabeth pushed the door the rest of the way open and flicked on the lights.

To say they were murder on his throbbing head, add that to the list, would be an understatement, but he was relieved not to be alone. Especially since about a minute before, he’d rocked forward so hard to heave that he’d whacked his head on the porcelain.

“God, Perce, what the fuck.”

Mad? was as far as his brain got before he was reeling again, but he didn’t feel her hand on his back, comforting him like he wanted.

Why was she mad? Was she mad that he was sick? He knew that she had midterms coming up, and really couldn’t afford to get sick herself, and that he had a ridiculously flighty immune system compared to her rock-solid one, but she wasn’t normally hostile to him.

“Huh?” he managed, holding his head between his hands while his elbows rested on their toilet seat. He squinched his eyes shut, reaching out a hand that was shaking way too badly and trying to find the handle to flush his stomach away.

Annabeth’s hand swatted at his, and she flushed the toilet, shifting her weight back again to cross her arms.

“Why do you do this?”

She’s mad you’re sick, again, his dizzy, pounding brain chided him. He, Leo, and Jason had passed a cold back and forth most of the winter, and he’d gotten over it for maybe the fifth time just the week before.

“I…” he started, and then stopped to stifle a gag into his fist. “I’m sorry,” he eventually rasped. “I know it’s annoying–”

“You have to stop drinking so much when you go out with Angie,” she said, frustration heavy in her voice. “It sucks that I have to deal with the aftermath of you two deciding to overindulge in whatever you decide is the ‘drink of the night.’ I have drafts to work on today, and that second interview this week that I need to prepare for. I don’t have time to deal with you hungover all day.”

It was as if the wild spinning of his head and stomach stopped for a moment. Which, would have been nice, except he realized why Annabeth was so angry. She thought he’d decided to get fucked up with his sister, not that he was sick.

Which, his stomach reminded him, settling back into heavy nausea with a painful cramp, was very much the case. 

He was about to tell her as much when he was sent over the bowl again, retching violently enough to nearly make him hit his head again, which he would have if he hadn’t blocked it with his hand. 

It was a minute before his body let him rest, and he pushed backward enough that his back hit the wall, letting it bear his weight as he dipped his head between his knees. Somewhere in his fever-brain, he recalled Cady making him do that when he was really dizzy and nauseous, but he couldn’t come up with anything else that might have helped.

Annabeth was still standing in the doorway, he could feel her presence there, and he heard himself whine before rasping, “Beth–”

“I don’t want to hear it, Percy. Seriously–”

“Beth, I– I’m not hungover,” he pleaded, closing his eyes so he didn’t feel like he was seasick. Or, airsick. It was worse that he’d ever felt on a plane, though. He definitely hadn’t been this sick in a long while. “I’m not hungover, I’m just sick.”

It was quiet for a moment before Annabeth said quietly, “Bullshit.”

“I sw–swear,” he pleaded. “Angie and I didn’t even drink last night. We decided we’re trying to save–” He took a breath, trying to steady himself so his voice would stop shaking so badly. “Money. To go see Stellie for her birthday.”

Silence hung in the bathroom again, though Percy nearly didn’t notice. It felt like nausea was pulling him under in waves, and it was hard to focus.

Then, there was a freezing hand on the back of her neck, and he heard her sigh.

“Fuck,” she whispered, and then her hand was gone, and he started to hear her move.

He couldn’t focus very long on where she’d gone or what she was doing, because no sooner had the thought come to ask her that he was sick again, and everything in his brain was focused on not falling over while he dry heaved miserably, nothing left in his system for him to throw up.

How long she was gone was a mystery, but he was slouched over the bowl, his forehead resting on his forearm, waiting to be sick again, when she came back.

“Perce? Honey, can you sit up?”

All the frustration was gone, and pity had taken it’s place. Percy didn’t even care, he was so relieved she wasn’t mad at him anymore. He took a shaky breath and sat up slowly, hoping that it wouldn’t set the world spinning even more than it already was.

He blinked his eyes open. Annabeth was a little blurry, since he wasn’t wearing his contacts, but the look on her face was clear enough. He must have looked awful.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, and she shushed him, pushing his bangs back and resting her hand on his forehead.

“No, hon, I’m sorry,” she said, her frown deepening. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to that without figuring out what was going on, I’m just so stressed out with other things that I let them take over.” She was still frowning, moving her hand to cup his cheek. “That fever’s awful.”

“I feel awful,” he said, letting himself lean into the coolness of her hand. “Everything hurts and I’m so nauseous.”

“I know, honey.” Annabeth rubbed her thumb over his cheek before biting her lip. “Do you think you can get up from here? I know you prefer the couch to the bed while you’re vomiting so I moved your pillow and the quilt your mom made you out there.”

“But, you draft at the table,” he said, blinking at her slowly and trying not to let anxiety start in his chest. He really didn’t want to throw up anymore, but he knew he wouldn’t be so lucky. “It’ll be distracting to try to draft while I’m puking out there.”

“Honey, I’m not drafting today,” she said simply, and even blurry, he could see in her eyes that she meant it. “I’m going to take care of you.”

“Cady takes care of us when we’re sick,” he said automatically. Annabeth wasn’t really the caretaking type. Every so often she would, but he knew she didn’t love it, and it didn’t come easily to her. Usually, when he was sick, they called Cady, and she came over and dealt with him so Annabeth could still get things done. That, or she shuttled him over to her and Angie’s apartment, where he stayed on the couch until he was good to come back home.

Annabeth didn’t have time to be sick. She had so many amazing and important projects she was working on. He couldn’t take her away from them because he had what was probably a nasty stomach virus from hell itself.

Still, she was looking at him with such earnest determination that he might have fallen in love with her all over again.

“Yeah,” she said, shrugging simply. “But, maybe I want to. You’re mine.”

He nodded, a weak smile crossing his face, and let her pull him off the floor.