#sicktember 2025 day eight

[sicknessbysalem]

Day Eight: “The Closest Doctor is Probably Hours From Here” | Sicktember 2024

I am once again posting a fic thats more puke with plot and less prompt adherence but can still feasibly fit the prompt if only barely.

its not wlw, it is cis woman x nonbinary lesbian so… yeehaw (i’m going to have some sick wlw fics this month! At least two… not counting the next one i have with meadow and river, this time sick meadow .)

if you have any requests, questions, comments, etc., send them my way!

tw emeto, chronic stomach issues, anxiety, vague references to trained behavior due to bad situations

Meadow’s car pulled up in front of River’s apartment, the soft rumble of the engine blending with the distant hum of city life. The day was warm, with sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees lining the street, casting dappled shadows on the pavement. Meadow had the windows rolled down, allowing the gentle breeze to play with the strands of her sun-kissed hair, a peaceful smile gracing her lips as she spotted River waiting by the door.

River stood with their hands tucked into the pockets of their worn, dark hoodie, the fabric frayed at the edges from countless washes. They were a stark contrast to Meadow’s vibrant energy, their alternative style blending seamlessly with the more muted tones of the city. As Meadow approached with her usual lightness, River couldn’t help but feel a knot tightening in their stomach, an unease they couldn’t quite shake. It wasn’t the trip itself—they trusted Meadow, and they liked April and Arizona well enough—but the idea of stepping into a family dynamic, something they had never really experienced, felt foreign and unnerving.

Meadow greeted them with a warm hug, her scent a mix of lavender and something sweet, grounding in a way that River desperately needed at that moment. They forced a smile, hoping it reached their eyes, not wanting Meadow to worry. She was always so in tune with the world around her, so full of life and color, and River didn’t want to dampen that with their own anxieties.

“Ready to hit the road?” Meadow asked, her voice as bright as the morning sun.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” River replied, their voice steady, though the fluttering in their stomach betrayed them. They threw their duffel bag into the back seat and slid into the passenger side, leaning back as Meadow started the car again.

As they pulled onto the highway, the city began to fade into the background, replaced by sprawling landscapes and the open road. River tried to relax, focusing on the music Meadow had chosen—a mix of indie folk and mellow rock, a playlist they’d made together a few weeks back. But the further they drove, the more that uneasy feeling in River’s gut seemed to grow, a gnawing discomfort that wasn’t just about nerves anymore.

The winding mountain roads didn’t help. The sharp turns and sudden dips made River feel as though their insides were being twisted and pulled in all directions. They kept their gaze fixed out the window, hoping the passing scenery would distract them, but the constant motion only made the queasiness worse. They could feel a cold sweat beginning to form at the back of their neck, their skin prickling with unease.

“Are you okay?” Meadow’s voice broke through River’s focus, soft and filled with concern.

River forced a nod, their grip tightening slightly on the door handle. “Yeah, just… getting used to the roads, I guess. I’m not really used to all these curves.”

Meadow glanced at them, her brow furrowing slightly, but she didn’t push. “We can stop if you need to, you know. No rush.”

River shook their head. “I’m fine, really. Just excited to get there.”

But even as they said it, River could feel their body rebelling against them, a low nausea settling in their stomach, making them swallow hard. They couldn’t let this ruin the weekend, couldn’t be the one who needed extra attention. They’d just have to tough it out, keep it together until they reached the cabin, and hope that once they were out of the car, the unease would fade away.

-

The cabin was cozy and inviting, with the scent of wood smoke lingering in the air from the fireplace. River couldn’t help but feel a small wave of relief wash over them as they walked in. April had already made herself at home in the kitchen, humming softly to herself as she prepared a pot of tea. Arizona was sprawled out on the couch, flipping through a magazine but glancing up with a smile when Meadow and River entered.

“Hey, you two finally made it! How was the drive?” Arizona asked, her tone light and welcoming.

“Long, but we’re here now,” Meadow replied, setting down the bags. She shot River a reassuring smile.

“Good to have you both here,” April chimed in, looking over her shoulder with a warm expression. “I’ve got some herbal tea going if anyone wants a cup before bed. It’s supposed to help with sleep.”

“Sounds perfect,” Meadow said, slipping her hand into River’s and giving it a gentle squeeze. “What do you think, River? Tea before bed?”

River nodded, the motion making their head swim slightly. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

They joined Arizona on the couch, sinking into the cushions and trying to ignore the queasiness still simmering in their stomach. Meadow sat beside them, her presence comforting even though River felt distant, trapped in the growing discomfort they were trying so hard to conceal.

The conversation flowed around them like a gentle current, with Meadow and Arizona bantering about an upcoming music festival and April chiming in with motherly advice about staying hydrated and not forgetting sunscreen. River listened, nodding occasionally, but their responses were muted, more out of politeness than engagement.

Meadow’s hand had not left River’s. While she talked, River felt her hand move theirs when she started gesturing to speak, as if forgetting they were holding hands, or that River was an extension of Meadow. Rover didn’t mind, they never minded that.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight, River,” April noted, her voice kind but probing. “Everything okay?”

River’s heart skipped a beat, but they forced a small smile. “Yeah, just a bit tired. It’s been a long day.”

“They had a gig last night, I think I woke them up to get us here,” Meadow giggled. River loved Meadow’s giggle.

April nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “Well, you’re welcome to rest as much as you need. We’re just glad you could come with us.”

“Thanks, April,” River murmured, their voice barely above a whisper.

The tea was served, and River accepted a cup, the warmth of it soothing in their hand even though their stomach churned at the thought of drinking it. They took a small sip, the herbal flavors soft on their tongue, but it did little to ease the growing unease within them.

As the minutes ticked by, the conversation continued, but River felt increasingly detached, their focus shifting inward as the nausea intensified.

Finally, April stretched and yawned, signaling the end of the evening. “I think it’s about time we all get some rest. We’ve got a full day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Agreed,” Meadow said, setting her empty cup down and turning to River. “Ready for bed?”

River nodded, their relief barely hidden. “Yeah, definitely.”

They all headed upstairs to their respective rooms, with April giving them each a goodnight hug before disappearing into her room with Arizona. Meadow led River into the guest room they’d be sharing, the space cozy with soft, mismatched blankets and a couple of old lamps casting a warm glow.

River set down their bag, trying to ignore the way the room seemed to tilt slightly as they moved. The dizziness was getting worse, and now that they were away from the others, it was harder to mask how poorly they were feeling. They unzipped their bag, rummaging through it with increasing frustration as they realized their mistake.

“Damn it,” River muttered under their breath.

“What’s wrong?” Meadow asked, her voice laced with concern as she turned from the bed.

River hesitated, not wanting to worry her. “Nothing, just forgot to pack something.”

“Do you need it? Maybe we can get it tomorrow if it’s important,” Meadow suggested, her brow furrowed, “I think momma wants to go into town tomorrow afternoon.”

“No, it’s… it’s fine,” River quickly replied, forcing a smile. “I’ll be okay without it.”

Meadow didn’t look entirely convinced, but she didn’t push the issue. “Alright, if you’re sure. Let’s just get some sleep. You look like you could use it.”

River nodded, grateful that she didn’t press further. As Meadow got ready for bed, River moved more slowly, the dizziness making every movement feel sluggish and disorienting. By the time they slid under the covers, the nausea was a constant, gnawing presence in their gut, and they prayed that sleep would come quickly and take it all away.

“Goodnight, love,” Meadow whispered, leaning over to kiss River’s forehead.

“Goodnight,” River whispered back, closing their eyes and hoping that the darkness would bring some relief. But as they lay there, the nausea didn’t fade; instead, it seemed to tighten its grip, making it difficult to relax. River tried to focus on their breathing, on the sound of Meadow’s steady breaths beside them, but it felt like their body was conspiring against them.

They didn’t want to ruin this weekend. They didn’t want Meadow to worry, or for April and Arizona to see them as a burden. So they swallowed down the rising discomfort, forcing themselves to stay still, to keep their breathing even, to pretend that everything was okay.

But deep down, they knew that this night was going to be much longer than they had hoped.

-

River lay on their back, staring up at the ceiling as the soft sounds of Meadow’s breathing filled the room. Meadow had drifted off to sleep easily, her hand resting gently on River’s arm, a touch that normally would have been comforting but now only served as a reminder of how restless River felt. The darkness of the room seemed to press in on them, making the gnawing nausea in their stomach all the more unbearable.

Every time they closed their eyes, the dizziness intensified, the room spinning slightly in a way that made it impossible to relax. River’s breaths were shallow, each one taken with the hope that it might settle the churning in their gut, but instead, the sensation only grew worse. It felt as though their stomach was a tight coil, wound so tight it was on the verge of snapping.

They shifted slightly, trying to find a position that might ease the discomfort, but every movement seemed to jostle their stomach further, sending another wave of nausea washing over them. Their mouth felt dry, and they swallowed hard, willing the sick feeling to go away, but it was relentless, gnawing at them with an intensity that was impossible to ignore.

Beside them, Meadow stirred slightly in her sleep, her hand sliding off River’s arm and curling against her chest. River’s heart ached at the sight, knowing how much Meadow had looked forward to this weekend, how much she wanted River to feel like part of the family. But all River could focus on was the sickening feeling growing inside them, the way their body was betraying them at the worst possible time.

Minutes ticked by, each one stretching longer than the last, until finally, River couldn’t take it anymore. They gently slipped out from under the covers, moving slowly so as not to disturb Meadow. For a moment, they sat on the edge of the bed, head in their hands, trying to steady the dizziness that had become a constant companion. The cold floor beneath their feet was a small relief, grounding them just enough to muster the energy to stand.

The room felt suffocating, the air thick and heavy as River made their way to the bathroom. They moved cautiously, each step sending a tremor through their body, as if even the slightest misstep might tip them over the edge. When they reached the bathroom, they quietly closed the door behind them, the click of the latch echoing in the small space.

The bathroom was dimly lit by the soft glow of a nightlight, casting long shadows on the walls. River leaned heavily against the sink, gripping the cool porcelain edge with trembling hands. They closed their eyes, taking a deep breath in through their nose, trying to push the nausea back down, but it was no use. The sick feeling surged forward, relentless and overpowering.

River’s stomach twisted painfully, and they felt their throat tighten in response, the unmistakable sign that this was more than just a passing wave of nausea. Their body was done fighting, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

They barely had time to reach the toilet before their body heaved violently, forcing up the contents of their stomach with a sudden, painful intensity. River braced themselves against the cold porcelain, their knees hitting the tiled floor as another wave of nausea gripped them, leaving them no choice but to give in to the sickness.

The sound of their retching was muffled, but the force behind it was undeniable, each heave tearing through them with a ferocity that left them breathless. Quiet or not, it hurt. It was hard and violent on River. Maybe more so as River tried not to make so much noise.

River squeezed their eyes shut, trying to keep as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake Meadow or alert anyone else in the cabin. They bit down on their lip, stifling the sounds that threatened to escape, even as their stomach continued to revolt.

The bitter taste of bile burned their throat, and they coughed weakly, trying to catch their breath between bouts of vomiting. Tears pricked at the corners of their eyes, both from the physical strain and the overwhelming sense of defeat that washed over them. This wasn’t how the weekend was supposed to go. They were supposed to be part of the family, enjoying the peace and warmth that Meadow’s found family offered, not curled up on the bathroom floor, fighting off waves of nausea that left them trembling and weak.

River was used to episodes. And maybe they shouldn’t have expected anything else. Half the time the episodes happened at the worst possible times.

When the worst of it finally subsided, River slumped back against the wall, their breathing ragged and uneven. They wiped the back of their hand across their mouth, feeling the clammy sweat on their skin, their body shaking from the exertion. The room spun around them, and they had to close their eyes to keep from losing their sense of orientation completely.

For a few moments, they just sat there, trying to gather the strength to stand up. Their stomach still churned unpleasantly, but the violent urge to be sick had passed, leaving them feeling drained and hollow. They knew they couldn’t stay there all night, not without raising suspicion, but the thought of standing and walking back to the bedroom felt like an impossible task.

Finally, with great effort, River pushed themselves up to their feet, gripping the sink for support. They stared at their reflection in the mirror, pale and drawn, their eyes shadowed with exhaustion. It was obvious, even to them, that something was wrong, but they were determined not to let it show.

River turned on the faucet, rinsing their mouth out and splashing cold water on their face. The coolness was a small comfort, but it did little to alleviate the lingering nausea that still gripped them. They took a few more deep breaths, willing themselves to pull it together, to get through the night without anyone knowing.

When they finally felt steady enough, River turned off the light and quietly slipped back into the bedroom. Meadow was still fast asleep, her breathing slow and even, completely unaware of the turmoil that had just played out in the next room.

River slid back into bed as gently as possible, careful not to disturb her. They pulled the covers up around themselves, curling up on their side, facing away from Meadow. Their stomach still felt unsettled, but they were too exhausted to do anything more than close their eyes and hope for sleep to take them.

-

River had finally managed to drift off into a fitful sleep, the exhaustion from their earlier ordeal temporarily overriding the discomfort that still gnawed at their insides. But the rest was short-lived. After what felt like only moments, River stirred again, a sickening sensation rolling through their stomach, pulling them from the fragile grip of sleep.

Their eyes fluttered open, the darkness of the room heavy and suffocating. The nausea that had been a dull throb earlier now surged with a vengeance, a relentless wave that left River no choice but to get up and move. They needed to get out of bed, needed to be anywhere but lying down where the sickness could take hold of them fully.

River shifted carefully, trying to slide out from under the covers without disturbing Meadow, but the movement, however gentle, was enough to rouse her. As River swung their legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand, a hand touched their arm, a soft, sleepy voice following.

“River?” Meadow’s voice was thick with sleep, but there was concern laced in it as well. “Where are you going?”

River froze for a moment, their heart pounding in their chest, both from the nausea and the fear of being caught. “Bathroom,” they managed to mutter, their voice strained. “Just need a minute.”

Meadow’s hand slipped away, but the bed creaked as she sat up, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice clearer now, more alert.

River didn’t answer, their focus already shifting to the growing urgency in their stomach. They moved quickly, more out of instinct than anything, crossing the room in a few unsteady steps and pushing the bathroom door open with trembling hands. They barely registered Meadow following them, the concern in her eyes hidden by the shadows, as they stumbled to the toilet, their legs threatening to give out beneath them.

As soon as River was kneeling on the cold tile, the nausea hit them with full force, their body convulsing as they heaved into the toilet. It was a quiet, almost eerie sound—no loud retching or gasping for breath, just a strained, barely audible expulsion as their body rid itself of what little was left in their stomach. River gripped the sides of the toilet, their knuckles white as they tried to keep from collapsing, their entire body shaking from the effort.

Meadow hovered in the doorway for a moment, her heart sinking as she watched River’s body tremble with each silent heave. She could barely hear the sound of them being sick, the quietness of it making her chest tighten with worry. Meadow moved forward, her bare feet making soft sounds on the cool tile as she approached River, crouching down beside them. The only reason she even knew River was vomiting was the way it splashed in the toilet.

“Oh… Riv,” she whispered, her voice soft but firm, reaching out to place a hand on their back. River flinched slightly at the touch but didn’t pull away, their body too focused on the task at hand.

“It’s okay, love. I’m right here,” Meadow murmured, rubbing small, soothing circles on their back, trying to offer some comfort despite the helplessness she felt. She hated seeing River like this, so vulnerable and sick, but she knew better than to overwhelm them with questions or fussing. River had always been private about their struggles, and Meadow respected that, even now. She brushed a few strands of hair behind River’s ear before rubbing her back.

River didn’t respond, their focus entirely on the quiet but intense battle with their stomach. Another wave hit them, and they hunched over the toilet, their breath hitching as they silently retched again, the sound barely more than a soft splash in the water. Meadow felt the tension in their muscles, the way their body shuddered with each heave, and her heart ached for them.

“Shh, you’re okay,” Meadow whispered, keeping her hand steady on River’s back, grounding them as best she could. “Just breathe, you’re doing great.”

River’s breathing was ragged, each breath coming in shallow gasps as they fought against the nausea that refused to let up. The dizziness from earlier had returned with a vengeance, making the room tilt and spin around them. They squeezed their eyes shut, trying to block out the disorienting sensation, but it only seemed to make the nausea worse.

Meadow’s presence was a small comfort, her touch soothing even as River’s body continued to betray them. They wanted to say something, to reassure her that they were okay, but the words caught in their throat, replaced by another sickening wave that forced them to lean forward again. This time, they were almost too weak to hold themselves up, their body trembling with the effort it took to keep from collapsing completely.

Meadow noticed the change, the way River seemed to sag against the toilet, and she gently shifted closer, her other arm wrapping around their shoulders to steady them. “I’ve got you,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet determination. “Just let it out, don’t hold back.”

River’s body responded to her words, another quiet but forceful heave wracking their frame as they clung to the toilet, their breaths coming in shaky, uneven gasps. It was a battle they were clearly losing, each wave of nausea leaving them weaker, more drained, but they fought against the urge to give in completely, their mind a blur of exhaustion and discomfort.

Minutes passed, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, the heaving began to subside, leaving River panting and spent. They slumped forward, resting their forehead against the cool porcelain, their body trembling from the exertion. The nausea hadn’t fully gone away, but the worst of it seemed to have passed, leaving them feeling hollow and light-headed.

Meadow stayed close, her hand still on River’s back, offering silent support as she waited for them to catch their breath. She knew River well enough to know that they hated feeling this way, hated being seen like this, but she wasn’t about to leave them to suffer alone.

When River finally found the strength to sit back, they leaned heavily against the wall, their eyes closed as they tried to steady their breathing. Meadow reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair from their face, her touch tender and reassuring.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Meadow said softly, sensing that River was too exhausted to speak. “Just breathe, okay? You’re safe, I’m here.”

River nodded weakly, their eyes still closed, focusing on the rhythm of their breath and the warmth of Meadow’s hand on their cheek. They felt like they could finally breathe again, the nausea still present but no longer the overwhelming force it had been just moments ago.

For a long while, they sat there in silence, the only sound in the room the soft hum of the night beyond the cabin walls. Meadow stayed by River’s side, her presence a steady anchor in the storm that had just passed, her touch grounding them in a way that words never could.

Eventually, Meadow leaned in closer, her voice a gentle whisper in the quiet. “Do you want to try going back to bed, or would you rather stay here for a bit?”

River opened their eyes slowly, the room coming back into focus as they considered her question. They felt drained, their body heavy with exhaustion, but the thought of returning to the bed, to the warmth and safety of Meadow’s arms, was too comforting to resist.

“Bed,” River murmured, their voice hoarse and weak. “I just… I just want to lie down.”

Meadow nodded, helping them up from the floor with a gentleness that made River’s heart ache with gratitude. She kept a steady hand on their arm as they moved back to the bedroom, guiding them with care, as if afraid they might collapse again at any moment.

When they finally made it back to bed, Meadow helped River settle under the covers, tucking the blanket around them before sliding in beside them. She pulled them close, wrapping her arms around River in a protective embrace, as if shielding them from the world.

“Is that what you were looking for earlier? Your medicine?” Meadow asked curiously.

River nodded, lacing their fingers with Meadow’s.

“Yeah, I thought I grabbed it…” River said, “It’s fine. It’ll pass on its own…”

“Any trigger in particular this time?” Meadow asked, “Sometimes it gets triggeres, sometimes it happens…”

“Not that I can think of,” River shook their head, “Only thing out of the ordinary is being here.”

“Maybe your anxiety then? You probably also got motion sick a bit on the way up… bad combination that sent you into overdrive,” Meadow suggested.

River let out a shaky breath, their body relaxing into Meadow’s warmth, the last remnants of nausea slowly fading into the background. They shrugged to that suggestion, “It’s possible… I mean getting motion sick as is has triggered this before so… maybe.”

“Poor thing,” Meadow sighed, kissing the side of their head. They closed their eyes, the darkness now a welcome relief, knowing that Meadow was there, holding them close, watching over them as they drifted back into a much-needed sleep.

“Thank you,” River whispered, their voice barely audible, but Meadow heard it, felt the sincerity behind the words.

“Always,” she whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to their temple. “I’m here. Always.”

And with that, River finally allowed themselves to let go, to surrender to the exhaustion that pulled at them, knowing that no matter what, they were safe in Meadow’s arms.

-

The night had been long and restless for River. They had been up again, the nausea returning in waves that left them weak and drained. Meadow had been by their side through it all, offering quiet support, her presence a comforting anchor in the storm that River’s body seemed determined to put them through.

After a few more bouts of sickness, River had finally managed to find some relief, the nausea easing just enough to allow them to return to bed. Meadow had helped them settle back under the covers, her touch gentle and reassuring.

“Just try to rest,” Meadow had whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from River’s forehead. “I’m right here.”

River had nodded weakly, their eyelids heavy with exhaustion. It wasn’t long before they drifted off, their breathing evening out as they succumbed to sleep. Meadow had stayed by their side, holding them close, her own worries fading as she listened to the steady rhythm of River’s breath.

The night passed slowly, with Meadow dozing off for a few hours, her body finally relaxing after the long, anxious night. When she woke, the early morning light was just beginning to filter through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. River was still asleep, their face peaceful, though there was a slight tension around their eyes, a lingering sign of the rough night they’d endured.

Meadow slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to disturb River. She padded softly across the room, glancing back to make sure they were still resting peacefully before she left the room and headed for the kitchen. Her mind was already on what she could do to help ease River’s discomfort when they woke up—perhaps some tea, something gentle that might soothe their unsettled stomach.

The kitchen was quiet when Meadow entered, the early morning stillness comforting after the long night. She moved to the stove, setting a kettle on to boil, her thoughts focused on River and how to make them as comfortable as possible. She reached for the loose-leaf tea that she knew would help—chamomile, with a touch of ginger—and began preparing it, her movements slow and deliberate, almost meditative.

As the kettle began to whistle softly, Meadow poured the hot water over the tea, the fragrant steam rising up to fill the kitchen with a soothing aroma. She was just about to set the tea aside to steep when she heard soft footsteps behind her. She turned to see April standing in the doorway, her hair slightly tousled from sleep, a concerned look on her face.

“Morning,” April said, her voice still a little rough from sleep. “What are you doing up so early, hon? Are you feeling okay?”

Meadow hesitated for a moment, not wanting to worry April but knowing that she couldn’t keep the truth from her, especially if River needed more care. “I’m okay,” she said slowly, stirring the tea gently. “Hey… do you have any fresh ginger?”

“What kind of tea are you making sugar?” April said, going to get some fresh ground ginger, “Your stomach giving you a hard time again? I thought you said your bug from a couple days back was good? Not that it’s a problem.”

“My stomach’s fine momma,” Meadow said, “The bug was brutal, but Houston took care of me. I should call him and see how he’s doing… case he got sick or something, but no, it’s not me.”

“If it’s not you then is it your…” April trailed off, Meadow giggled as she saw April was trying to come up with the right word, “River, is it them?”

“They weren’t feeling good last night,” Meadow said, “They don’t have a bug but they got sick a few times last night.”

April’s brow furrowed immediately, the concern deepening in her eyes as she stepped closer. “Oh no, what happened? Are they okay? Do we need to get them anything? Have you called a doctor? I mean the closest doctor is probably an hour or so from here but…”

“April, it’s okay,” Meadow said quickly, trying to calm her down before her worry spiraled into full-on mom panic. “They just had a bit of a stomach episode. This is sadly normal for them. I’m making them some tea now that should help settle things.”

April’s worry was evident, her eyes scanning Meadow’s face for any sign that things were worse than she was letting on. “Are you sure they’re okay? Should we be doing something more? Maybe we should—”

“Momma,” Meadow interrupted gently, placing a hand on her arm. “I know you’re worried, but River’s going to be okay. They just need rest, and I’m trying to keep things calm so they don’t feel more stressed. You know how they are—they don’t want to be a burden, and too much fussing might just make them feel worse.”

April sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly, though the worry didn’t entirely leave her expression. “I know, I know. I just hate the thought of them being in pain or uncomfortable, especially here. I want them to feel like this is a safe space, not somewhere they have to push themselves.”

Meadow smiled softly, squeezing April’s arm reassuringly. “You’ve done so much already to make them feel welcome. They know they’re safe here, but you know how River is. They need a little space to process things, and right now, I think the best thing we can do is be ready to help if they need it, but not overwhelm them.”

April nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “You’re right. I just get so worried, especially knowing they don’t always take the best care of themselves. I worry about all my kids, honorary ones too. But I trust you, Meadow. You know them better than anyone.”

Meadow poured the tea into a mug, letting it steep a little longer as she considered her next words. “I’m going to take this to them and see how they’re feeling when they wake up. If they need anything more, I’ll let you know, but for now, let’s try to keep things low-key, okay?”

April gave a small smile, the kind that was half-reassurance, half-resignation. “Alright. But if you need anything, anything at all, just let me know. I’m here for both of you.”

Meadow nodded gratefully, feeling the weight of the night easing just a little with April’s support. “Thank you, April. I know River appreciates it too, even if they don’t always say it.”

With the tea ready, Meadow carefully carried the mug back to the bedroom, leaving April in the kitchen to make herself some breakfast. As she re-entered the room, she was relieved to see that River was still sleeping, their face a little more relaxed than it had been earlier.

Meadow set the tea on the nightstand and sat beside them on the bed, brushing her fingers gently through their hair, the soft touch meant to soothe and comfort. She leaned down and placed a light kiss on River’s forehead, whispering softly, “I’m right here, love. Just rest, okay?”

River stirred slightly, but didn’t wake, their breathing even and deep. Meadow settled in beside them, ready to be there for them when they woke, ready to offer whatever comfort and care they needed to get through the day.

-

River spent most of the day in a restless sleep, their body too exhausted to do much more than drift in and out of consciousness. The nausea had never fully left, a constant weight in their stomach that kept them on edge, but sleep was a temporary escape from the discomfort. Meadow stayed close, watching over them with quiet concern, offering sips of tea or a comforting hand whenever they stirred.

As the afternoon wore on, Meadow grew increasingly worried. River hadn’t improved much, and the one thing that could make a real difference was sitting back at home. With a determined sigh, she decided to drive back and get it. The cabin wasn’t too far, but it would still mean leaving River in the care of April for a few hours.

She gently roused River, her hand brushing lightly over their arm. “Hey, love,” she whispered, her voice soft and reassuring. “I’m going to head home to grab your medicine. April’s going to be here if you need anything, okay?”

River stirred, blinking up at her with bleary eyes, their face pale and drawn. “You don’t have to… I’ll be fine,” they muttered, though the weakness in their voice betrayed them.

Meadow shook her head, smiling softly. “I want to. You need to feel better, and I’ll be quick. Just rest, and if you need anything, April’s here. Besides, the sooner you get your medicine in you the sooner you’ll stop puking and we’ll be all good, right? It’s okay.”

“Be careful please,” River said, knowing they would have better luck arguing with a brick wall than with their girlfriend. Meadow giggled softly and kissed their head and then their cheek.

“Hey, at least you don’t have a fever so we know it’s just a bad day,” Meadow suggested, “I love you. Go back to sleep and I’ll be back before you know it.”

River didn’t argue further, too worn out to resist. They gave a small nod, already closing their eyes again as they sank deeper into the pillows. Meadow leaned down, pressing a kiss to their forehead before quietly slipping out of the room. She met April in the kitchen, quickly explaining the situation.

“Just keep an eye on them. They’ve been sleeping most of the day, but if they wake up and need anything…” Meadow trailed off, her worry evident. “River doesn’t sleep much so this… is kind of good. That they’re resting.”

April nodded, her face serious. “I’ll take care of them, don’t worry. You just go get that medicine.”

With a grateful smile, Meadow hurried out the door, leaving April to look after River. The house fell into a quiet lull after that, the only sound being the occasional creak of the cabin’s old wooden floors or the soft rustle of leaves outside.

River remained curled up in bed, trying to ignore the nausea that still simmered in their stomach. They’d hoped sleep would be a way out, but it was no use. The gnawing discomfort in their gut wouldn’t let up, and they could feel it starting to build again, each wave of nausea stronger than the last.

They swallowed hard, willing their body to settle down, but it was a losing battle. The tightness in their chest, the queasiness twisting inside them—it all pointed to one inevitable conclusion. They needed to get to the bathroom.

Moving slowly, River pushed the blankets aside and carefully swung their legs over the edge of the bed. The dizziness hit them first, making the room spin slightly as they tried to stand. They paused, taking a deep breath before heading toward the bathroom, their steps unsteady.

Once inside, River shut the door as quietly as possible, gripping the edge of the sink for support as another wave of nausea rolled through them. Their stomach twisted painfully, and they knew they didn’t have much time before it all came rushing up again. Kneeling by the toilet, they braced themselves, trying to keep the sounds as quiet as possible, just like they always had.

The first heave was silent, nothing but a soft gasp of air as their stomach convulsed, forcing the bile up. River kept their lips pressed tightly together, swallowing down the noise, their body shaking with the effort. Another wave hit them, more forceful this time, but still, they made almost no sound, just the faint splash of liquid hitting the toilet.

It was a practiced silence, one they had perfected over the years. Their family had made it very clear that being sick was something to be ashamed of, something to hide. As a child, River had learned quickly to keep their sickness as quiet as possible, to disappear when they felt ill, to avoid the judgment and frustration that always seemed to follow.

They hated that the habit had followed them into adulthood, but it was second nature now. Even here, in a place where they knew they were cared for, where Meadow and April would never judge them, they couldn’t shake the instinct to stay quiet, to not be a burden.

Another retch tore through them, their stomach cramping painfully as they continued to throw up, their breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. The effort of staying so quiet left them trembling, their body weak and shaky as they leaned heavily against the toilet, the cool porcelain pressing against their forehead.

They didn’t hear the soft knock at the door, or the quiet footsteps approaching. April had come to check on them after noticing their absence from the bed, her concern growing with each passing minute. When she gently pushed the bathroom door open, her heart sank at the sight of River hunched over the toilet, their entire body trembling as they fought through another silent wave of sickness.

“Oh, River…” April whispered, her voice soft with worry as she quickly stepped inside.

River flinched at the sound of her voice, their body tensing as if they’d been caught doing something wrong. They didn’t look up, couldn’t bring themselves to meet her gaze as another silent heave wracked their body, leaving them breathless and weak.

April’s brow furrowed in concern, not just at the sight of River being sick, but at how quietly they were going through it. It wasn’t normal—not the way they seemed to force themselves to stay silent, as if making any noise would be a problem. She knelt beside them, gently placing a hand on their back, her touch light but reassuring.

“Hey, it’s okay,” April murmured, her voice calm and soothing. “You don’t have to be quiet, River. It’s just me.”

River shook their head weakly, unable to form a proper response as their body lurched again, another quiet heave leaving them shuddering with the effort. April’s heart ached at the sight. She had never seen someone so determined to stifle their own suffering, and it worried her deeply.

April wanted to ask. To reassure River. This wasn’t just about being sick—this was something deeper, something rooted in how they had been treated before. April knew Meadow couldn’t have done this to them. That wasn’t Meadow. This would’ve been adapted long before her honorary daughter and River’s relationship.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said softly, her voice filled with compassion. “You’re okay…”

April’s face softened as wrapped her arm around their shoulders, pulling them gently against her side. Meadow said not to overwhelm them, but April was still a mom. River was her kid every bit as much as Meadow was.

River leaned into her, their body still trembling, but the tension in their shoulders began to ease slightly. They were still pale, their stomach clearly not finished with its torment, but April’s presence was a calming.

“You’ll be alright,” April said softly.

Another wave of nausea hit, and River, finally allowing themselves to trust the safety of the moment, let out a quiet groan as their body heaved again, their muscles tight with strain. April stayed close, letting go of River. She moved her hand to rub comforting circles on their back, offering silent support.

River continued to get sick, though it was quieter than April had expected—less from fear now, and more from sheer exhaustion. When it finally subsided, River slumped against the wall, their breath coming in short, ragged bursts as they tried to recover. April stayed with them, not leaving their side, her motherly concern unwavering as she gently helped them wipe their face with a cool washcloth.

“You did great,” she whispered, pressing the cloth to River’s forehead. “Just rest now. We’ll take care of you.”

River gave a small, shaky nod, their body too worn out to argue. They knew Meadow would be back soon with their medicine, but for now, in April’s caring presence, they felt safe enough to let their guard down, if only for a little while.