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borderlineseaweed · 3 days ago

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Fuck it it's Christmas in Australia

@psi-spectacular I was your secret Santa this year!

I don't really engage in the psychonauts fandom as much nowadays, but I still love the secret Santa. It's an event where I get to make something for someone else, and it helps push my writing boundaries.

I've never done a sickfic before. I don't think I've even read a sickfic before. Still, I gave it my best go, and I hope you enjoy!

And thank you once again @kibasniper , for setting up this whole thing! Truly the most special time of the year.

“Ugghhh…”

“Dear, where do we keep the pickled hog noses?”

“I threw those out years ago, caro! They had expired!”

“They don't expire, they ripen! Like cheese!”

A few days ago, Raz came back from a mission with a blocked nose.

The next day, his eyes were watering, his temperature was rising, and soon after that, he had been stuck in bed.

“Doctor Sparckzinger is an extreme germophobe,” Hollis had explained to Donatella and Augustus. “Sasha thinks that Raz managed to catch an imaginary virus inside his mind.”

“Does that happen… often?” Augustus asked.

“No. Again, Sparckzinger is an extreme case. Regardless, we're planning to have Otto and Sasha monitor him to see if we can learn anything else and potentially create a cure.”

“You mean you do not even know if he will recover?” Donatella asked angrily.

“This is an unprecedented incident. If we had any more information, we'd share it. For now, we're going to prepare a quarantine area in case he's contagious.”

“Couldn't you ask this…”

“Sparckzinger,” Hollis offered.

“Yes, Sparckzinger. If it comes from inside his mind, shouldn't he know about it?”

“It's not that simple. It's derived from his subconscious. If anything, he might know less about it, due to not having the best understanding of illnesses and viruses in the first place.”

“That's it!” Augustus snapped his fingers.

“What is it?” Donatella and Hollis asked in unison.

“If it's a mental illness, then we just cure it mentally! Whenever I got sick, Nona would make me soup! I think we still have the recipe written down somewhere, maybe the main caravan? I'll go check!” And with that, Augustus rushed off.

“I will go make sure he does nothing too…” Donatella stood up.

“Your son may be contagious,” Hollis said. “I still strongly suggest isolation, to prevent more people getting sick. We have rooms in the Motherlobe-”

“The children all sleep in separate rooms, and there are latches on their doors besides. We shall do just fine.”

Augustus had found the recipes quickly enough. Nona had scribbled them down on loose-leaf paper and kept them in her room. The one that he remembered most fondly was an onion soup with hog noses. Unfortunately, the hog noses were no longer with them, so he had moved onto the next recipe.

“Hmm… peppers, ginger, potatoes, some chicken… did we finish the chicken last time?”

“Yes, I think we did… I had been planning to buy some more in the next town, but then everything happened, and…”

“Ah, yes, now I remember. Do you think we could get some from the psychics?”

“What, do you think they have a chicken farm hidden somewhere?”

“...Noodle Bowl…” Raz said, his voice weak. He was in his bed, swaddled in blankets.

“What was that, son? I couldn't quite hear.” Augustus came over, still holding the recipes.

“He said ‘Noodle Bowl’,” Dion said. He had been hanging around the outside of the caravan, pacing.

“‘Noodle Bowl’? Hmm, I might have some noodle recipes…”

“Maybe he wants some of that chicken noodle soup from that one town? I saved a box of it a while back,” Mirtala piped up.

“That's probably also expired,” Dion said.

“That stuff expires?” Mirtala asked, tilting her head to the side like a confused dog.

“For the- it's written on the box!”

“The Noodle Bowl’s a place in the Motherlobe,” Frazie said. “Raz told me he got some bacon there once, I think?”

“Raz wants bacon?”

“No, Mirtala. Wait, do you want bacon?” Dion asked, turning to Raz, who shook his head.

“...get chicken from the Noodle Bowl…”

“Wow, his voice sounds bad,” Mirtala said.

“He's probably got a sore throat,” Augustus said. “Now, let's see, when I had a sore throat, Nona made…”

He wandered off again, muttering to himself while flipping through the paper.

“Is it just me, or does it sound like Dad was sick a lot as a kid?” Frazie asked.

“Oh, his constitution was never the best,” Donatella’s voice came from outside. “He had a weak heart as a boy, but it cleared up when your older brother was born. Although, I was worried it would come back after The Incident.”

“...’m sorryyy…” came a sickly moan from indoors.

“Oh, no, I wasn't talking about you running away, Pootie. I was talking about when that horrid old man’s hypnosis came undone and your father realized the last three decades of his life had been a lie. I can talk about more than one Incident.”

“Anyway, Frazie. Go see if you can get some chicken,” Dion said. “Tala, can you get another bag of ice?”

“Why do I have to go get the chicken?”

“Because none of us know where the Noodle place is? Tala, the ice block’s in Nona's old tent. Chisel’s next to it.”

“‘kay!” Mirtala hopped outside.

“Dion, I heard about it once. I know as much about where it is as you do.”

“Then go ask your friend Norma. She'd probably tell you.”

“In that case, you can go ask Gisu.”

“No fighting, you two,” Donatella said. “Frazputin, you go talk to the mind-readers. Dionysus, you go make sure Mirtala is using the ice chisel responsibility.”

Wordlessly, but with slight groans at the usage of their full names, Frazie and Dion headed off on their errands.

On her way through the Quarry, Frazie ran into Lili, throwing stones into the water.

“Hey, you're… Lily, right?”

“Lili.”

“That's what I said. Anyway, do you know if I could borrow some chicken?”

“Why? Does this have to do with Raz?”

“Yeah. Dad's decided that the best way to treat a mental illness is with a mental cure, so he's trying to make a stew Nona made for him when he was sick.”

“...okay, but don't call it a mental illness. That's… that's a different thing.”

Eventually, they had managed to convince the cafeteria workers to loan them some chicken.

“Dad, I'm back!”

“Oh, good. Did you get the chicken? Ah, Lili! Good to see you!”

“We ran into each other in the quarry,” Frazie explained. “She helped me get in.”

“Splendid. Now, I'll start on the stew… what else?”

“Once I got sick at camp, and Agent Vodello gave me some tea with honey and lemon. Would that help?”

“Sounds splendid!” Augustus said. “Could you go get some honey and lemons? Who knows, maybe the fact that you're helping out will make all the difference- mental illness, mental cure!”

“Don't- don't call it that.”

As Raz lay in bed, he thought.

He'd been feeling horrible ever since coming back from the mission. On the plane back his symptoms had just gotten worse and worse, but the moment he was back in the caravan things had started to get better.

Everything his family was doing had been helping, little by little. Even just hearing Dion ask if he wanted bacon felt like it had lowered his fever a bit.

He still felt absolutely horrible, but it was less horrible.

“Hey, Raz!”

“Oh- hey, Queepie,” Raz said, his voice still weak.

“Dad's almost done with the stew and he told me to ask if you can sit up,” Raz’s little brother asked brightly.

“Yeah- yeah, I should be able to.”

“Great! I'll go get the thing we used that one time we tried to make breakfast in bed for Mom.”

That brought back memories. One year, they decided to make Donatella breakfast in bed. They had gotten a tray with folding legs to put the food on, and did their best to cook eggs and bacon.

The eggs got overcooked, and the bacon got a bit undercooked, but she had still said it was delicious.

Well, she said that the food was horrible, but the taste of the love they put into it outweighed that. And then she had banned Raz, Mirtala, and Queepie from using the stove until they turned twelve. But it was the thought that counted.

Maybe that's what it was, he thought. The fact that they were thinking of him. Just the idea that they were trying to help was helping.

“I got the tray thing!” Queepie said, running back into Raz’s room. “I unfolded it already.”

“Thanks, Queepie.”

“Dad said he's gonna be getting a bowl for the stew soon! One second!”

At this rate, he'd probably be out of bed by tomorrow.

The stew was good. Spicy, too, in a way he hadn't really gotten from any of the food at Camp or the Motherlobe. It filled him with warmth with each bite, even if the chicken was a little dry.

Eventually, he heard a knock at the door, and muffled voices, before the door swung open.

“Hey, Raz. Holding up?”

“Doing better, Lili. The stew's helping.” Lili was holding a two-handled mug, with a cartoony pink figure on it. “What's in the mug?”

“Well… I was thinking about how I could help out, and I remembered that one year, I got sick at camp, and Milla gave me some tea with honey and lemon. So, I thought that might help. I got the tea from Agent Boole, some honey from Agent O��Pea, my uncle let me borrow a lemon, and the mug belonged to Helmut,” she said, setting it down on the tray. “And I ran into Sasha and Otto on the way and they asked me how your condition was doing. So, how are you doing?”

“Better now,” Raz said, picking up the mug. “I think… so, the virus comes from Sparckzinger’s thoughts, right?”

“Right. Your dad said that it might help to just do what he thought would help.”

“Well, I think he was right. All day, I've been feeling better and better. The moment you came in here, I could feel my fever dropping,” Raz said. As he drank, he could feel his throat getting less sore- his body getting less weak. “This, plus the stew- I could probably get out of bed right now!”

Taking another sip of the tea, he pushed back the tray, and extracted himself from the pile of blankets and pillows.

“Thanks, Lili.”

“No problem. You'd do the same… hopefully.”

“Well, I don't know how to make stew, and I don't know if the tea thing would work for you too, but I'd try.”

Lili let out a small chuckle.

“Feeling better already, huh, Pooter?”

Frazie was looking in through the caravan window, hanging upside-down from the second-floor windowsill.

“Wha- Frazie!”

“You’re not sick anymore, so we get to make fun of you again. That's the rules,” Dion said.

“Oh, is Razputin up? I was just about to see if I could figure out Nona’s strudel recipes. I'm sure we have some preserves somewhere…”

“I mean, I still feel a tiny bit sick!” Raz called.

Augustus chuckled. “Alright, strudel it is. Is your girlfriend staying for dinner? We've still got plenty of stew!”

#psychonauts 2 #psychonauts #psychonautssecretsanta2024 #razputin aquato #augustus aquato #Donatella aquato #Dion aquato #frazie aquato #queepie aquato #mirtala aquato

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