#doing this w sleepy brain mb

[alaskan-wallflower]

Caretaker 3 and sickie 5 for sick Soda and either caretaker Darry or Steve, you choose! Love these prompts :D

Thanks!! And of course! Let’s do both lol

C. 3.) “That didn’t sound good….”

S. 5.) “You don’t have to waste your time on me.”

It wasn’t even his fault this time.

The last thing he remembers, he’s at the DX, working his tail off, and the next minute, he’s in the back of Steve’s car. All he can see are his shoulders—they’re tensed. He can barely see the speedometer, but it certainly isn’t going ten over the speed limit like it normally would’ve when him and Steve rode together. Heck, he wasn’t even going the speed limit—and for his shoulders to be that tense while driving? Something must’ve been worrying him. He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a strangled groan, and suddenly, he knew what the issue was.

His stomach felt like it was churning molten lava. His mouth tasted like metal and bile, and his shirt reeked. His head was pounding, and he had some ice wrapped around it with a faux bandage, kudos to Steve’s shirt wrapped around it. The raven haired boy, having heard his friend, didn’t say a word. Nor did he turn around. Was he mad? Soda couldn’t remember anything. Did he say or do something to upset Steve?

Soon enough, the car came to a complete stop, and in his blurry haze, he recognized his house. He felt arms under his knees as he was picked up bridal style and carried inside. He looked up and was certainly surprised, and a bit worried at what he saw. Steve’s shoulders were still tense as all hell, and he was biting his lip so hard Soda swore he saw blood. But there were also tears in his eyes. Tears Steve probably would’ve banged himself over if he knew Soda saw. Soda opened his mouth again, trying to speak, to ask what the hell was going on…but all he got out was a ghost of a whisper.

“What…”

That seemed to be all it took, as Steve rested him on the couch, wrapping him in a blanket and putting a pillow behind his head. age sat down by the coffee table and buried his head in his hands. Soda reached out and grazed his arm weakly, trying to navigate through the splitting pain in his head and stomach.

“Glory, Soda…”

His voice was pinched. He sure sounded spooked.

“You scared the shit outta me!” he exploded, standing up and pacing. Soda knew it was the only way Steve knew how to worry—through anger, which normally would’ve been fine, were it not for Soda’s splitting headache. He winced, pulling the blanket over his head as Steve realized his mistake, and tensed even further, mentally berating himself for getting that loud.

“I called Darry.”

“What?!”

Soda emerged from his blanket cocoon, looking at Steve with wild brown eyes—and not the endearing wild. The scared wild.

“Now why wouldja go an’ do a thing like that?”

“Because you vomited all over the counter at work and passed out after and hit your head! That’s why!”

Steve clenched his eyes shut, his body shaking as he winced. Stop yelling, Randle, he told himself. Soon enough, thank god, Darry came home. He took one look at Soda and was over in the blink of an eye. Screw Superman, he was more like The Flash with how fast he came over…

“Soda? What happened? Are you okay?”

His normally harsh, blue eyes were filled with worry as he kneeled down so he was at eye level with his little brother. God, sometimes he looked so much like their dad it was uncanny. Soda swallowed the sudden lump in his throat.

“I’m-“

His stomach, not quite getting the memo, gurgled loudly. It wasn’t in a hungry way either. It was in a sickly, “I’m going to throw up soon”, way. Darry winced.

“That didn’t sound good…”

Soda nodded, swallowing down the rising bile as his stomach churned away. He sighed softly through his nose. He didn’t have time to protest before Darry grabbed a bucket, putting it right in front of Soda. He moved Soda’s head to fluff up his pillow, knowing how Soda liked it. He even took the time to properly blanket burrito Soda. He knew the blonde was probably freezing his ass off. Soda felt horrible as Darry and Steve seemingly ran circles around him, to do things he knew he normally would’ve been able to do himself. He bit his lip.

“You who don’t have to waste your time on me…”

The duo paused for a moment, giving him an “are you serious?” look.

“Honey, it ain’t wastin’ time to be takin’ care of you.” Darry rested his hand on the back of Sdoa’s head, turning him to face him and Steve. Steve nodded, the worried anger fading in his eyes, leaving him resembling more of a black lab puppy who’d just watched its owner pretend to throw the ball, only to realize it was never actually thrown.

“Dar’s right, Pepsi-Cola…you gotta stop beatin’ yourself up whenever you ain’t feelin’ so hot. We’re gonna take care of you anyway, whether ya like it or not.”

Soda huffed through his nose, too tired to put up an actual fight. He closed his eyes as Darry stood up and shut the blinds, picking up Soda and holding him on his chest. He hadn’t even taken off his work shoes yet, and he was still so attentive towards Soda. He figured he’d probably asked one of his older work buddies to cover for him, which he knew they were glad to do. Darry was only twenty, and a lot of his coworkers were ready to jump in, knowing he was their only guardian.

“Well…thank you guys,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. Whether it was with emotions, or with sickness, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t care. He just closed his eyes, letting Darry run his fingers through his hair, and allowing Steve to rub his thumb over his arm. He felt loved.

He soon fell asleep.

Prompts here!