#sicktember day 9

[whumperwithwings]

Sicktember Day 9

9: Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker

Whumpee was pleasantly dreaming, an empty town full of cotton candy at their beck and call before them, when they were abruptly torn from that blissful reality into an aggressively bright and cold hospital room.

Caretaker leaned over Whumpee, concern plastered on their face. "Are you okay? You were twisting and turning and it looked like you were having a nightmare but I wasn't sure but I thought I better be on the safe side and wake you up just in case-"

"I know," Whumpee said quickly, making Caretaker stop talking immediately. "But next time, spare me the alarm clock. Got it?"

"Got it"

[darl-ingfics]

Sicktember Day 9: Overdramatic Caretaker

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: Dino/Chan (cold)

Caregiver(s): Jeonghan

Word Count: 575

“Why are you out of bed?” Jeonghan asked, freezing in place as his eyes tracked Chan’s movements from the stairs through the den to the kitchen.

The younger man shrugged. “I wanted tea.”

Jeonghan closed his book and set it on the coffee table with a decisiveness that bordered on spite. “Why didn’t you just text me?”

Chan shrugged again. “Because I’m in my 20’s?” he suggested sarcastically. Nevermind that he looked like he hadn’t aged a day past 16 in his old sweatpants and one of Seungcheol’s sweatshirts, the hood pulled up over his head and his hands swimming in the sleeves. Nevermind that he’d passed out at dance practice that morning. Nevermind that his face was still flushed a worrying shade of crimson. 

Anticipating more resistance from Jeonghan, Chan simply set back to his task, refilling the kettle with water and setting it on the stove. A slight pout on his face, Jeonghan moved so he could hover in the doorway as Chan slowly buzzed around the kitchen, preparing the tea he’d set out to make for himself because he was an adult fully capable of doing so. And he had been doing so well, too, until he turned too fast from the cabinet with the honey to the stove when the kettle started whistling. A spattering of black sparks exploded across his vision, a wave of dizziness clouded his brain. He reached for the counter, fingers slipping against the edge. He stumbled. Jeonghan caught him by the shoulders. 

“Just let me do it.” Jeonghan kissed Chan’s feverish temple before physically moving his body away from the utensils he had previously been using. The vocalist immediately moved to the bowl on the counter where someone had thankfully bought lemons, and went to grab a cutting board. Chan moved back towards the counter, reaching for the honey again when Jeonghan once again pushed him out of the way. 

Chan crossed his arms over his chest, aware how petulant the action was, but unable to stop it. “Hyung, I can do it!” 

“I beg to differ.”

“Why?”

“Because you are my baby,” Jeonghan stated plainly. 

Chan groaned. “Hyung, I’m not actually a baby,” he exclaimed with as much energy he could muster. The sniffle that followed felt rather pathetic to Chan, but such was life. 

Jeonghan clicked his tongue. “Let’s not be ridiculous now.” He paused to cup Chan’s cheeks in his hands. “You will always be my baby.” Against his will, tears filled Chan’s eyes. Something about the genuine love and care in his hyung’s eyes, the warmth of his hands against his skin, the way his fingers were gentle yet firmly supportive. Something about it demolished his resolve, ushering in the crushing reality that he felt awful. Chan’s lips quivered. 

“Oh, my.” Jeonghan pulled Chan to his chest as the younger man hid his face behind his hands, crying softly. He clicked his tongue again, holding Chan by the back of his head, rubbing his hair soothingly. “Don’t cry, love. I didn’t mean it. I know you’re not a baby, I just love that joke, and I didn’t realize it upset you so much…”

“No!” Chan pulled away, swiping at his face with his sweatshirt sleeve. “No, I’m not upset about that. I just…” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Hyung, I don’t feel good.” 

Jeonghan nodded in understanding, simply opening his arms again, accepting Chan back into his embrace, all care, no judgement. 

[lhaagain]

@sicktember Part 2 - My Mortal Soul

I've taken a slightly different approach to Sicktember this year and have grouped the prompts together into five fics. This one includes the following prompts: 19. Hypochondriac Tendencies 11. Mediaeval Treatment 23. Under a Spell 9. Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker 2. Too Much of a Good Thing/Overindulgence

My Mortal Soul

“I could not possibly,” Monica Joan declared. “My soul is only clinging to my physical manifestation by a thread.”

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well,” Julienne said gently, coming to sit on the side of her sister’s bed. “Is there something in particular the matter?” When their elder sister had not appeared in the chapel for Lauds, Julienne had seen the weary look on Ada’s face and offered to go up instead.

For as long as Julienne had known Monica Joan, and she suspected long before that, she had been something of an eccentric. She was fond of ancient cultures, astronomy and astrology but increasingly she seemed to not only be fascinated but truly believe what she was saying.

“I am besieged by an evil temper. The wind must be from the east.”

“It might be,” Julienne said. “But I suspect that has little to do with what ails you.”

Read more on AO3

[fletcherwilbury]

@sicktember Day 9: Alt Prompt 5: "I'm so sorry..."

Warning for Illness, past injury, eye infection, seizures, past trauma, ambulance mention, hospital mention

[faofinn]

9. White Coat Syndrome

Holidays were a rare treat for the Cunningham-Cole crew. Both Taidgh and Harrisons jobs were difficult for raising a family, but they refused to let it get in the way. Each day out was precious, even a few hours at the park, a walk to feed the ducks, the tiny things that meant the world to both dads.

With the kids old enough to actually be a contender in races, Harrison often brought his running blade to join in - he wasn’t going to let Tai have the fun. So that's where they found themselves on a warm Sunday morning, charging around the park like idiots. They'd planned to stay the day, picnic packed and ready. Levi was old enough to join in, though he didn't always undenal the rules of whichever game they were playing, occasionally ending up in tears. 

Frisbee was easy enough, so they eventually moved onto that. The park was quiet enough, though the hum of other families laughter carried across the air.  Even Harrison's laughs carried across, Alfie having his life and loving it. Scout was just as bad as them, haring around the park and herding his family. 

Tai loved their weekend days out, when the whole family could mess around together. It was a warm day, the sun shining over the grass. The kids were rowdy, on their last few weeks of school holidays, and it had been good to get out of the house. He’d been haring about with them that morning, trying to catch up with the kids, but his knee had twinged and he’d ended up sat on the picnic blanket watching them play Frisbee, Scout rushing madly between them as he tried to catch it mid-air. He let them play for a while, before his stomach growled at him and he couldn’t ignore the food he was sat next to any longer. 

“Hars! Kids! Come on, lunch! I’m starving to death over here!” He called. 

They raced over, Scout leading the way with his bounding strides. The boys were close behind, but Harrison lagged slightly, his own leg starting to ache.

Harrison settled by Tai, wrapping an arm around his waist as he pressed a kiss to his cheek, the pair like lovesick teenagers. Of course, the kids made their displeasure known, a quiet chorus of gross as they laughed. 

Tai leaned into Hars, grinning at the kids. “You’ll get it when you’re older.”

"Ew, no! It's gross!" Kieran laughed, his nose scrunched. 

“You’ll get a kiss too, if you’re not careful!” Tai teased, reaching out for him. 

"No! Alfie, help!" Kieran wriggled away, shouting and laughing. 

“I’ll get you both!” Tai said, as Alfie piled in, and Scout tried to join in too, barking and hopping excitedly. 

Harrison sat back with a smile, looking proudly on at the chaos he'd created. He grabbed a sandwich while the others were distracted, sneaking Levi a piece of cheese his youngest had been eyeing up. 

Eventually the chaos died down, the twins and Tai flopping back on the blanket breathless and grinning. He reached for the food, grabbing a sandwich. 

As the kids dug in, Harrison nudged Tai's thigh. "Hey."

“Hey, you okay?”

"More worried about you. I saw you twist it."

“Just a little twinge, I just didn’t want to do any more damage to it."

Harrison rubbed his thigh. "Are you in pain?"

“Not now I’m sat down.”

"Are you sure?"

“Yeah, it’s not bad. I just didn’t want to be haring around on it and making it all swollen. If they don’t do this op tomorrow I’m going to have a breakdown.”

Harrison hummed, fingers trailing over skin. "Yeah, I know."

“Are you sure work are okay with your time off?”

"As if I'd give them a choice."

“And Steve’s okay with having the kids?”

"He's looking forward to it."

“Mm, okay.” He said, and kissed his cheek again.

Harrison reached a hand to cup his cheek, tilting his face up to kiss him properly. His thumb stroked his cheek as he pulled back. "It's going to be okay. I love you."

Tai smiled. “Love you too.”

He quickly pressed a kiss to Tai's nose before moving to lean against him and reaching for his can of pop. "You know I'll be there for you, whatever you need."

“Pass me another sandwich?” He asked cheekily. 

"What's the magic word?" He teased, dangling it out of reach. 

“Mm, please?”

Harrison grinned. "Nope."

“Hey!”

"You gotta say the magic word!"

“Please is the magic word!”

"Nope!"

“Come on!” He whined, kissing him on the cheek again.

Harrison's resolve cracked. "It's a good job I love you."

“And I love you too.”

Their day was heaven, a picnic in the warmth followed by more stupid games after they’d eaten. Eventually, though, they headed home, all of them just completely shattered. It was a job to corral sleepy kids to bed, Tai and Hars exhausted themselves. Scout had spent the evening sprawled out asleep on the rug in the living room, looking like they felt. 

Even Tai and Hars had headed to bed early that night, aware they were up early the next morning. They fell asleep with Tai’s head resting on Harrison’s shoulder, warm and comfortable. When their alarm went off the next morning, Tai just snuggled up against him, refusing to move. 

He was eventually coaxed out of bed and got dressed, enjoying the last glass of water he was allowed. Steve arrived to look after the boys, and after some hugs and fuss, the pair of them headed to the hospital. It was weird, driving their familiar commute for something other than work. 

Harrison knew Tai was stressed. He could feel it a mile away. Of course, he was worried too, not just for the operation, but his recovery and everything that came with it. The operation itself was rubbing a little too close to home for Harrison, having had so many himself. It was the right leg, too, which only stirred up more emotions for him. He shook his head to clear his mind, taking Tai's hand as they headed in. 

Tai squeezed his hand gratefully, heading through the doors into the day surgery unit. It was unfamiliar, which was both good and bad, but he signed in at the desk and then it was a waiting game, his left leg bouncing anxiously. 

"You've got your bag, you've got stuff for after, some juice and some throat sweets." Harrison murmured, mainly to himself. "And you've got your sweets for emergencies, and I put an extra juice box in for you, too. I've got the insulin and I'll give it to the nurses when we get there."

Tai glanced over at him. “What would I do without you?”

"Probably be a lot less stressed." He admitted with a laugh. 

“A lot more stressed, more like.” 

"Mm, maybe."

“Got you to look after me.”

"I'll always look after you."

“Yeah.” Tai said, moving to rest his head on his shoulder. 

"Sickness and in health. All that bullshit." He pressed a kiss to his hair. "And anyway, we've got the kids. I can't manage them alone."

“You could.”

"I wouldn't."

“I hope they’re okay with Steve.”

"I think it's the other way round." Harrison managed to joke. "I think dad's gonna regret offering."

“Probably, they’re nightmares.”

"I can't even stand up for them. I know I should." He said sagely, trying to keep a straight face.

“They’re feral, but hopefully yesterday tired them out enough.”

"I hope so. Scout was bloody knackered, bless him."

“Looked how I felt.” Tai agreed. It wasn’t long before they called him through, and he gripped Harrison’s hand as he stood. All he wanted was to go home, but that wasn’t possible. They asked him to change, and they’d be back for obs and things. He hesitated, looking at his fiancé. “Can I just sack this off and we just go home?”

"Don't be daft." He shook his head, though wanted nothing more than to do the same. "You need this sorted. Just think, this time tomorrow, all the operations and stuff will be done. And you'll only have the physio to do."

He pulled a face. “Even worse.”

"What, you're not looking forward to physio?" He feigned shock.

“Nobody looks forward to physio, knob.” He shot back.

"And after all the shit you gave me?"

“I’m allowed to give you shit, we’re getting married. Besides, I’m already doing physio.”

"Yeah, well, I'm doing a physio."

He snorted. “That’s a terrible joke. Can we go home? I don’t want to do this.”

"No, we can't." Harrison sighed. "And I'm not being a dick, but you need to take a few deep breaths, try and relax as much as you can. I can feel your anxiety from over here, and it's not gonna help you."

He forced himself to take a breath, his lips pressed tightly together. His shoulders slumped as he let it out, reaching for Harrison. “I hate hospitals.”

Harrison stood, moving to wrap his arms around his fiance. "I know, I know. I've got you."

He leaned into him, taking another deep breath and focusing on the smell of him, washing powder and aftershave and something that was just him. Some of the tension drained from his shoulders, his body softening against Harrison’s. 

"That's it, well done." He praised, kissing his forehead. "Another slow breath.'

He nodded. “Feel all sick and anxious.” He admitted. 

"I know, I know. It's fucking shit." He soothed. "But you'll get all the good drugs soon, get a nice little nap, and you'll wake up with your leg sorted."

“I’m such a baby, jesus.” 

Harrison couldn't help his smile. "I know it's the wrong time and all that, but I really love your accent."

“Piss off.” He grumbled good-naturedly. “It gets softer all the time, being stuck here with you.”

"We should go across, once you're better. I'm sure your mum would appreciate it."

“She would, it’s been too long since she’s seen the boys.”

"Tell you what, Christmas? Steve said he'd come too, we'll go over for the two weeks. Stay in a cottage, have Christmas there." He said, feeling Tai relax into him. 

“As if you’ll get two weeks of leave at Christmas.”

"Watch me."

“Only if you forge a sick note will you get that much time off. And don’t even think about it.” He teased. “I don’t even think I could get that much off, but maybe a few days before new years?”

"We'll manage it."

“What about going to Fao’s? Won’t you miss that?”

"You miss your family for mine."

“I love your family.”

"My point still stands."

“Mm, it would be nice to go back. You won’t understand a word.”

"Be nice for the kids to have the accent though." He smiled, glad Tai was relaxing more. "Be like mini yous."

“We’d need to move for them to have the accent, really. Right now they’re just gonna end up like Fao.” He joked. 

"Oh, I don't know which would be worse." He teased, his face falling as the door pushed open. 

Tai tensed, his jokes forgotten as the door creaked open. 

"Hi, Tai? Ah, excellent, you're all changed. I'm just gonna grab a few obs off you, and then we'll pop you through."

He nodded, swallowing thickly. “Okay.” He untangled himself from Hars, sitting down. 

Harrison mirrored his actions, sitting and fidgeting with a stray thread. The nurse was nice enough, but Harrison couldn't focus on their conversation, his eyes trained on the monitor. 

Tai did his best to try and relax, focusing on his breathing. He’d looked to Harrison, but he was just staring at the obs machine, and that didn’t help. He tried to think of something else, of the Christmas trip they’d been planning, but the stupid thing had sound and he could hear how fast his pulse was, the way the blood pressure cuff squeezed so tight his fingers tingled and he prayed it wouldn’t be ridiculously high. 

The nurse made a soft noise. “Oh, those are a bit on the high side, aren’t they?”

“I’m, uh, a really nervous patient. White Coat Syndrome and all that.” Was Harrison going to be pissed he was anxious again?

Harrison frowned at the obs, and stood up. He moved back to Tai's side, kissed his cheek and hopped on the bed next to him. He laced their fingers together, bringing their knuckles to his lips. 

"Deep breath together?" He said softly. "Make you feel better."

He nodded, forcing himself to take another deep breath with Harrison.

He kissed their knuckles. "And again? All the way down, from your head to your toes."

“Gonna make me go dizzy.” He grumbled, but did as he was told after a few moments, focusing on drawing the breath all the way to his feet. 

"Don't make yourself dizzy." Harrison murmured with a gentle laugh. "Defeats the point."

“I know.” His pulse had come down, and the nurse hummed. 

“I don’t suppose you do your blood pressure at home, do you?”

Tai nodded. “Yeah, they asked me to at pre-op, given my anxiety. Last one was 121/83.” 

“Oh, perfect.”

"He's the fittest person I know." Harrison said. "And I know I've gotta say that, but it's true."

“Well, I’ve not been so good recently, but I do my best trying to stay fit.”

Harrison stroked his thumb over the back of his hand. "You know, he even does the physio he's supposed to."

“Only because if I didn’t, I’d be the world’s biggest hypocrite. Practice what you preach and all that.”

The nurse laughed, leafing through the paperwork. "Ah, yeah, here we are. You've got your blood pressures for the week. Bless, you really are nervous, aren’t you?"

He nodded. “Really nervous. I’m awful, I hate needles and I’m not overly fond of hospitals as a patient.”

"I don't blame you, not one bit. They're not nice to be in." He smiled. "Unfortunately though, we will have to put a little needle in when we go through."

“Yeah, I know.” He said. “I’d rather that than no anaesthetic, but I’m not a fan.”

Harrison huffed a laugh. "Hey, maybe they can get you a sticker for being such a brave boy? Finn did it to me for my last one."

“Oh, piss off.”

"I'm not even joking. He found a little cat one, and I woke up with paed tape on my cannula and a "good boy" cat sticker stuck to me." He laughed. "Ely was in on it, I swear. So was Fao."

“I don’t remember that.” He said softly. 

"Oh, I shouldn't have said anything. I've ruined my surprise."

“Arse.”

He kissed his cheek. "I know."

The nurse smiled at the pair. "Your heart rate has come right down to normal now."

“He usually makes it go up.”

Harrison blushed immediately, his ears tipped red. "Tai."

“I didn’t mean it like that! I meant you’re always stressing me out!”

The nurse laughed again. "Right, before Harrison here melts, why don't we get you through? The sooner you go down, the sooner you can be in recovery."

Tai couldn’t help the anxiety that shot through him. “Already? Thought I’d have to wait longer.”

"You're top of the list. We'll pop you through to the room and the anaesthetists are waiting for you to have a quick chat and then they'll take you down."

He nodded. “And Hars can stay?”

"For now, yeah."

"I've already spoken to them." Harrison said quickly. "They know."

“Okay then.”

Harrison squeezed Tai's hand. "We've got this. You’ve got this."

[newwwwusername]

Fic title : The Upside to Having Your Nerd Boyfriend Come with You to Doctor's Appointments

@sicktember 2023 prompt : White Coat Syndrome

Rating : General Audiences

Fandom : Sanders' Sides

Pairing : Logan/Virgil

Additional tags : Alternate Universe - Human, Medical Examination, Medical Procedures, White Coat Syndrome, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Medical Device, Caring Logic | Logan Sanders, Mild Hurt/Comfort

Word count : 355

[dollgutzzz]

Sicktember Day 9: Overdramatic patient/caretaker

Thank you to anonymous for the outline suggestion for this prompt! It was super fun to write :) I honestly got pretty carried away with this one hehe 🩷

Rating: T

Media: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Noctis, Prompto, Ignis, and Gladiolus

Summary: Prompto has very recently become friends with Noctis, and he is fearful of not being good enough to be around a prince, especially since Ignis seems to not approve. This uncertainty all comes to a head when Noctis winds up very sick one day when he’s alone with Prompto.

CW for vomiting and medication 🚨

[autobot2001]

It's Nothing

Sicktember one-shot 5/6

Fandom: Transformers Characters: Jolt, Ratchet, Jasmine, Ironhide, Sideswipe, soldier Prompts: Day 9; white coat syndrome, Day 23; coughing fit, Day 27; Uncooperative patient, Day 30; Patient 0 Warning: None

A soldier wakes up, realizing they have a cold, but ignores it. They have a full training day, and they're certain a soldier gets a longer lecture than any other employee when they say they're sick. The soldier takes a shower and gets ready for training. The shower helps the soldier feel better.

The soldier tries to keep up with the others in Sideswipe's training class. Wishing this was the last thing on their schedule, and they could go to bed. Instead, they have to do an intense workout, run five miles then go to Ironhide's gun training class. By the time Sideswipe's class is finished, the soldier feels awful. Sideswipe notices, but the soldier claims they're fine. I don't think Ratchet would consider this a concern if I told him. Sideswipe believes.

The soldier hoped lunch would be enough of a break to feel better, but they felt worse. I am a soldier; we don't show weakness. They remind themselves. Sideswipe watches the soldier, wishing one of the medics were also in the cafeteria. Seeing the soldier is clearly not fine, but none of the medics would come to the cafeteria unless it's an emergency, and a soldier ignoring they have a cold isn't an emergency. "Someone doing terrible in your class?" Ironhide asks. "No, one of the soldiers seems off by the end of the class, but they claim they're fine. That's them," Sideswipe points to the soldier. Ironhide sees the soldier is unwell: "I was hoping one of the medics would be here." "We do have the right to make them go to the medbay," Ironhide says, "that's what I'll do if they refuse to go by the end of my class." The two watch the soldier leave the cafeteria.

Ironhide watches the soldier walk into the shooting range, noticing how unwell they are. He pulls the soldier to the side. "Why are you here? You should go to the medbay," Ironhide insists. Just like with Sideswipe, the soldier claims they're fine. The soldier does well in Ironhide's class. Relieved class is over. They head to the stairs to go to their room.

The soldier hopes to act ok as they walk by Ratchet but coughs in a way that anyone would consider a sign of sickness. "You are clearly unwell," Ratchet comments, "you are coming with me." The soldier cannot refuse as Ratchet forces them to go with him to the medbay. The two walk by Ironhide and Sideswipe, who follow the two. Ratchet is aware and believes he needs to talk to both of them.

Ratchet has Jolt examine the soldier while he talks to Ironhide and Sideswipe. "I know this soldier was not pleased to see me for their physical," Ratchet comments, "I could tell they do their best to avoid doctors." Ratchet talks to the soldier while Ironhide and Sideswipe leave the medbay.

The soldier is too sick to argue with the medics as they figure out the soldier has been hiding being sick. Now, to figure out how sick they are. They get a little rest while waiting for one of the medics to return and lecture them.

"Consider them patient zero," Jolt comments while handing Ratchet test results, "they're at the beginning of the flu, but ignoring the symptoms made them feel worse." "We sure this is the first patient then rather than there aren't other soldiers that avoided coming here?" "I'm certain. Even with everyone's busy schedule, no one can hide they're sick with the flu. Maybe a cold, depending on their schedule. Both Ironhide and Sideswipe noticed something was off with this soldier."

Ratchet talks to the soldier, finding out they left the base all weekend. Which increased their chances of catching the flu from someone. It's now Wednesday. Plenty of time for the virus to affect them. "….I want you to be admitted to the medbay until at least tomorrow," Ratchet finishes. "I'm fine," the soldier argues before coughing and lying back down. Ratchet is tempted to let the soldier leave, but they worry the soldier will get worse and face complications without treatment at the medbay. Instead, he has Jolt help him get the soldier into an in-patient room. Both medics are used to Autobots putting up a fight in their bipedal form. They both can tell how little effort the soldier is putting into fight them, knowing it's a sign of how sick they are.

By the time the soldier is getting treatment, they feel like shit. They give up trying to leave. "Are we going to have to add sedition?" Jolt asks. "No, they're causing symptoms to feel worse, and can't ignore how awful they feel. I just hope they will be getting better without complications." "I hope we don't have to deal with many like them this flu season."

As Ratchet planned, the soldier is released the next day, feeling a little better but still having to test in their room. Ratchet tells them they must report to the medbay first thing Monday morning. Hoping not to have to force the soldier to come to the medbay just to be cleared to return to training.

[fanfictasia]

Sicktember Day 9

Alt. Forehead Kisses

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Chosen Twins

That he actually looks deviously amused is probably a good sign, but instead of launching another pillow or tickle attack, he lays down in between us.

Or maybe it’s not such a good sign, because I can’t imagine him much wanting to lay down during the day unless he’s really not feeling well. Our stupid good off session probably didn’t help matters, but I don’t think anyone has any regrets.

I flop out next to him, and yes, I have many important things to be doing right now but I want to stay here a little longer.

“Are you okay, Master?” I ask finally, quietly, breaking the silence settling over us. I don’t think anyone was about to fall asleep yet.

He twists sideways to look at me, something oddly soft in his gaze. “You don’t need to keep worrying about it,” he replies, hand reaching up to lightly touch my cheek.

I freeze at the sudden gesture, because okay yes he can be a little affectionate sometimes, but –

He leans closer abruptly, kissing my forehead.

…

…

Yes.

Okay.

Clearly, he is not in his right mind right now, because he doesn’t get that emotional about things. He just doesn’t. He’s Obi-Wan and he –

“That is not fair,” Aniya blurts, looking at Obi-Wan with eyes wide enough to be bug-eyes, “And also, I think we do need to be worried. You’re clearly not feeling okay at all.”

Though that seems to make him come back to himself because he moves to lay back down again, though I feel Aniya’s small disappointment.

I can’t quite restrain myself from leaning closer, half to hug him back because I have no idea how else to expression the surge of emotion flooding me. And also, to reassuringly squeeze Aniya’s hand.

[astaldis]

For the Whumptember prompt 9: "Bloodied clothes" and the Sicktember prompt 8: "The closest doctor is probably hours away from here!"

Chapters: 31/?   Words: 23,389 Fandom: The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski, The Witcher (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & The Hansa | Geralt's Company Members Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Maria Barring | Milva, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Jaskier | Dandelion, Angoulême (The Witcher), Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Friendship, Monsters, Interactive Fiction, Reader-Interactive, Choose Your Own Adventure, Witcher Monster MAYhem Prompt Event 2024, The Hansa | Geralt's Company (The Witcher), Adventure, POV Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, augustofwhump, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Whump, Phantom pain, Geralt's bad knee, Mystery, spooky forest, eerie ruin, dark tunnels, archive warnings depend on the path you take, if applicable there are archive warnings in the text before you choose a specific path, Blood and Injury, Sick Character, therianthropy

Summary: On their way to rescue Ciri, Geralt and his Hansa come by the ruin of an old castle. It is a bit eerie, but should they stay the night there anyway or rather move on toward the forest? You decide!

Interactive Choose your own adventure Hansa fic with different options for the reader to choose from!

Excerpt from Chapter 31:

"Cahir? Cahir, are you okay?" Cautiously, Milva approaches the huge, fallen monster. Is it dead? It does not move, nor make a sound. And neither does her friend, who is almost completely buried beneath the beast.

"Did it snuff it?" Angoulême asks, trying to sound tough but failing spectacularly. She has seen an awful lot of scary shit happening in her young life and is hardly afraid of anything, but the werebear was by far the most terrifying of it all. If not for Jaskier shielding her from the attacking monster with his own body, she might not be standing here now, a bit worse for wear and trembling from the shock, but in one piece with not even a scratch. Hopefully, the bard is alright, too. The blood on the beast's claws does not bode well, though. Angoulême shudders at the sight. She should have listened to Geralt for once and stayed the fuck away from it.

[monaisme]

Sicktember: Day 9

This is also a part of the series, "The Battle and Beyond" found here:

https://archiveofourown.org/series/2208933

This can be read as a standalone. Just know that Aunt May is unwell.

#9- Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker

“”...tell us your story. And don’t hurry it—I’m feeling comfortable now.”

“”Aravis immediately began, sitting quite still and using a rather different tone and style from her usual one. For Calormen, story-telling (whether the stories are true or mad eup) is a thing you are taught, just as English boys and girls are taught essay-writing. The difference is that people want to hear the stories, whereas I never heard of anyone who wanted to read the essays.””

Peter tucked his finger between the pages and flipped back to the front pages of the book. “1954? Huh. I guess torturing students with meaningless essay writing is a timeless tradition, after all.”

“Oh, hush you, my little nerd—you know you love school, meaningless essays and all.” May gave his arm a weak nudge. “There’s no point in denying it.”

And there really wasn’t. The battle and the snap that had brought him and half a universe back from nothing had been only three weeks ago, but that didn’t stop the State of New York and its Department of Education from getting the kids back to school and out of the streets so the work of putting the world back together could really get started. Peter had never been more grateful for some semblance of normal.

“In fact,” Aunt May interrupted his thought, “I’m pretty sure you mentioned having some sort of presentation that you and Ned had to have ready for tomorrow? Or is it the next day?” Sometimes she was a little foggy on the details, but it was fine. “Gosh, Peter, should you be down here at all? How much of it do you have left? Or are you and Ned planning to wax nostalgic and pull an all-nighter—‘cuz if you are, be sure to let Tony know, okay?” She grasped his hand. “You know how he gets these days when things pop up.”

Peter, in fact, did know exactly how Tony got—panicking whenever Morgan sneezed, asking if Peter wanted an x-ray that time he’d stubbed his toe— all sorts of over the top, but coming from a place of concern that Peter was grateful for.

“It’ll be fine,” Peter promised, “He knows Ned’s coming, but I’ll remind Tony about the plan when I get back to the penthouse so he’s prepared for it.”

“Perfect. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the warning.” May smiled as she laughed.

“Hey,” Peter almost took offence. “Ned is getting waaaay better at containing the fanboying so be nice!”

Adopting an air of faux-offence, May replied, “I’m always nice, Mr. Parker, and you know that Ned is like my bonus kid so hush.” She giggled again, “Now, seriously, do you have the time for this or should I be all responsible and send you off to get things sorted?”

Peter smiled softly at May, relaxed as she reclined on her med-bay bed. “I’ve always got time for you. I promise. So, where were we?” Peter re-opened the book to where they’d left off, “Chapter three, ‘At the Gates of Tashbaan.’ “"My name," said the girl at once, "is Aravis Tarkheena and I am the only daughter of Kidrash Tarkaan, the son of Rishti Tarkaan, the son of Kidrash Tarkaan, the son of Ilsombreh Tisroc, the son of Ardeeb Tisroc who was descended in a right line from the god Tash. My father is lord...”                                                              

/-/-/

Peter couldn’t help but bounce in excitement as he entered the elevator and it began its descent to ground level. Yes, he’d seen Ned since they’d come back. Yes, they still had plenty of classes together at school. And yes, they were texting anytime Peter wasn’t up in the med bay visiting with Aunt May or figuring out his place at Tony and Pepper’s place, or how to approach Morgan who was about as high energy as Tony MUST have been when he was a kid. But this—there was always something different when they worked on a project together. None of the other stuff mattered— be it Flash’s renewed bullying or Peter missing the subway and being late for first period, or that the comforter on his bed didn’t feel right and made it hard to fall asleep, or today, the fact that Aunt May was still the med bay dealing with yet another complication because of her stupid kidney.   

“Peter.” FRIDAY’s voice brought him out of his distraction, “We’ve reached the lobby. Would you like to exit the elevator car or would you prefer to return to the penthouse?”

“Oh! Sorry!” Peter flustered as he stepped out of the private elevator. “Let me go grab Ned and we’ll be right back, okay?”

“Of course, Peter. I’ll hold for you and Mr. Leeds.” The AI responded, giving Peter the permission he needed to bolt out of the private corridor and into the main lobby.

“Ned!” Peter shouted out as he caught sight of his best friend gaping, once again, at the impressive displays of both architecture and Stark Industries’ newest innovations. “Come on!”

Ned startled out of his stupor and rushed over to Peter, stopping only to share their elaborate handshake in greeting before Peter dragged him over to the elevator to head upstairs. “Dude. This is not the last time you’ll be here. You’ve got to show a little chill!" Peter teased as they entered the car.

“But, Peter? Did you see the display? Imagine what Mr. Stark could do on a global level if nanotechnology were released to the world? It would mean cleaner air! It would mean—“

“It would mean everything, which is why Tony is already working with King T’Challa and Princess Shuri in Wakanda to figure out the logistics of increasing nanobot production and how best to distribute it.” Yeah, Peter had to admit that watching Tony, T’Challa, and Shuri collaborate was a site to behold. In fact, it made him think of how he and Ned worked. “They’re gonna change the world, man, and it’s so cool to be able to watch it happen.”

The elevator reached their floor, door opening to reveal the living room just beyond the entryway.

Ned slapped his hand over his mouth before lifting it off to speak quickly to Peter. “Peter. My best friend for ever. My ride or die. I beg of you now, in this moment, that I will be so chill in, like, one minute. You just—you have to give me this. Please. Can I just have this?!”

Wary of what exactly it was he was agreeing to, Peter gave a tentative nod of agreement before Ned absolutely let loose. “Oh, my gosh, Peter! I’m am in THE penthouse of super genius Anthony Stark, also known as Iron Man!” He spread his arms wide as he spun around to take in the gloriousness that was this moment, reminding Peter that he’d have to watch ‘The Sound of Music’ with May sometime soon.

Ned stumbled only a little as he came out of his spin, taking his backpack off and dropping it on the floor as he caught sight of the coat rack off in the corner. “Peter.” Ned’s eyes were nearly popping out of his head as he turned to Peter and begged. “Please, please, please may I touch the coat of super genius Anthony Stark, also known as Iron Man? My hands aren’t sweaty or anything!”

“Ned!” Peter couldn’t help but laugh. “Stop it!”

“I still have, like, twenty seconds! C’mon! Don’t make this weird!”

“Too late, Ned,” Peter replied but gestured toward the coat. “But fine. One finger, five seconds, and then you have to be better at pretending to be normal for the rest of your life.”

Ned glared.

“Fine!” Peter threw his hands up in defeat, “The rest of this visit!”

“Deal!” Ned agreed excitedly and turned back toward coat rack, and tangling himself in the straps of the backpack on the floor in front of him in the process.

Peter should have been more aware. He should have anticipated, been watching, done a better job at keeping everyone Ned safe, but no. In a blink, Ned was crashing to the floor in a jumble of limbs and—Peter’s stomach lurched—something was very, very wrong with one of Ned’s hands.

“TONY!” Peter called out as he rushed to Ned’s side, “TONY!” Peter was edging on hysteria.

A flurry of footsteps came into the entryway and before Peter knew it, Tony was kneeling beside Ned, still twisted on the floor but trying to untangle himself in his shock. “Hey, Ted, buddy. How’s it goin’?” Tony asked gently as he stilled the boy, putting into practice some serious first-aider skills as he cautiously turned the boy to his back and assessed the situation.

“I’m okay—just fell, Mr. Stark, sir. I promise I wasn’t being weird.”

Tony looked over to Peter, crooking an eyebrow in question.

Peter stood there pale, not responding at all.

“Good to know,” Tony finally settled on replying with. “FRIDAY? Have we got anything to worry about other than the obvious here?”

A pause, and then FRIDAY responded. “Other than some soft tissue damage, the only injury requiring medical intervention will be the suspected fracture to Mr. Leeds’s right wrist. It is safe to move Mr. Leeds, Boss, and I have notified the med bay staff that you are en route.”

“Thanks, FRI.” Tony replied as his gaze settled on the boy still lying dazed on the floor. “What do you say, Fred? Wanna take a tour of the med bay seeing as you’re here anyways?” He inquired and gave a mischievous wink. There was no point in making the whole experience into a ‘thing.’

Ned, being Ned, lit up, even as the pain in his wrist flared as he stood. “I think that would be great, sir.” He exhaled a shaky breath. “Um... can we call my mom, too, please?”

Tony’s face softened, “That went without saying. Now let’s get moving, shall we? The sooner we get this taken care of, the sooner you guys can get back to wreaking havoc.”

“Sounds good, sir,” Ned smiled weakly as he pressed his arm protectively to his chest and started the shuffle towards the elevator with Tony’s arm wrapped around him in support.

“Pete?” Tony called back over his shoulder as he noticed Peter not with them. “Are you coming?”

Peter blinked out of his haze and jumped to it, “Yes! Sorry, uh, sorry! I’m coming.” Peter rushed forward, entered the elevator, and started making a mental list of all the ways he could make this better.

/-/-/

When all was said and done, Ned had a type I Smith fracture with four to eight weeks stuck in a cast with another four to eight weeks stuck in a brace—with physio, to boot.

Mrs. Leeds had been so amazing, Peter thought to himself. She had every reason to be mad at Peter for not being enough, but nope. She’s allowed Ned to have the fracture reduced in the med bay (and Peter knew they were pros at that kind of stuff!) and spent the evening switching between visiting with May and then Ned once he started coming out of the sedation.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when both Mrs. Leeds and May shooed him out of the med bay just after midnight. Tony had arranged for something a little more comfortable than a cot to be brought into Ned’s room so Mrs. Leeds could keep her own eye on her son.

Peter would just need to figure out other ways to help.

/-/-/

It was a week before Peter and Ned were able to get together again.

“Let me get that for you!” Peter rushed forward to grab the door to the comic book store Ned had been preparing to open with his good hand.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Ned said confusedly as he entered the store. “Uh, thanks, Peter?”

Peter completely missed the way Ned questioned his actions, which was fine. Absolutely fine—just like Peter. “No problem, Ned, oh! Here!” Peter rushed forward and made a grab for the free comics sitting in the stand by the door before Ned could even notice them. “I’ll carry these for you while you browse. Were you still looking for that new Batman series? Well, I mean—“ Ugh. It wasn’t new. Peter knew that. Ned knew that. Stupid snap. “You know what I mean.”

Ned smiled, “Yeah, I’ve got a whole bunch on order and they’ve started coming in. They’re holding what they’ve got behind the counter for me so we’ll grab them once we check out.”

“Perfect!” Peter exclaimed, overly excited. “I know you were excited about them coming out before...”

Ned smiled wider. “I was, and I can’t wait to get enough in order to start reading them, for now though...” Ned got a crazy glint in his eye, “Let’s check out all the new series we missed!”

Peter agreed in a heartbeat, then stood by his best friend’s side ooh-ing and ahh-ing as Ned discovered a couple of new DC series to delve into, being sure to hold each one as he shopped.

“Let me get that for you!” Peter practically yanked the bag from the young cashier’s hand before Ned could even touch it. “I don’t want you doing anything to hurt yourself.”

Ned chuckled. “It’s a little late for that,” Ned lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers to draw attention to his injury.

—And Peter’s failure.  

“Besides, I’m being encouraged to use my fingers as much as is comfortable. It’ll help with my mobility later on, the doctor says.” Ned shrugged. “And I’m guessing she knows what she’s talking about so...”

“I get it,” Peter conceded, not that it changed Peter’s plan. “Doesn’t mean I can’t help a brother out, right?” Peter held the door open as Ned walked through.

“Right, I guess.” Ned paused as they hit the sidewalk. “Hey, wanna grab lunch at that little 50s diner I overheard Flash telling Brad Davis about last week?”

“Sure!” Peter turned towards where he knew the restaurant was located. “Not that I’m trusting Flash’s opinion on anything, but it really takes effort to mess up a plate of fries, am I right?” Peter rolled his eyes, conveying his scepticism.

“Amen to that.”

“Amen.”

The diner was only a fifteen minute walk from the comic book store; thank goodness Ned seemed to be doing alright so Peter allowed himself to take a bit of a breath. Seeing the full booths through the window amped his anxiety again, but luck was smiling down on them and they were lucky enough to get the last free booth in the place.

“Wow!” Ned looked around the diner wide-eyed before focusing on the menu before him. “I don’t normally like to say that Flash is right about anything, but this place is awesome!”

Peter had to agree, even as his head bopped to ‘Rock Around the Clock’ coming from the authentic looking jukebox on the far wall. “I know! And look at that plate over there!” He pointed to a poodle-skirted server navigating the crowd while balancing the biggest, juiciest looking burger Peter had ever seen on a tray. “I know exactly what I’m ordering!” He took in the decor and overall atmosphere. “I’ll definitely have to bring—“ Peter intended to say May but remembered before he could embarrass himself, “Tony,” he corrected. “He’d think this was a hoot!”

“AND something like that might actually fill you up!” Ned replied then glanced down at the Iron Man signature on his cast. “Just please let me come when you bring him back! I promise I got all of the hero-worshippy stuff out of the way, especially now that he’s seen me puke.”

Yeah, Ned hadn’t done well with coming out of the anaesthesia.

“Welcome to Rockin’ Robin’s.” Their server had arrived, high ponytail and all. “What can I get for you today?”

After ordering more food than they probably should have, and thanking the server for their hastily delivered sodas, the two boys sat back and simply basked in the campiness of the whole place. The jukebox had switched to ‘Lollipop,’ to ‘Earth Angel,’ then a string of consecutive Elvis songs. The jukebox had switched to ‘Sha-Boom’ just as their server arrived with their food, placing their plates down in front of each boy, checked that all was well, and then disappeared to help other customers, all while bobbing along to the song.

“This smells so good,” Peter moaned as he picked up his burger with two hands and prepared a plan of attack.

“I know,” Ned groaned as he looked at his own burger... and one functional hand (and some fingers). “Wish me luck.”

Peter dropped his burger like it was on fire. “Hang on! Let me help!” Peter practically leapt out of his seat and shoved Ned over to sit next to him instead. “I’ve got it! Let me take care of you!”

“Dude,” Ned laughed nervously, “I’m good. I’ve can feed myself.”

“I know you can,” Peter replied, loudly enough that the people around them were starting to notice them, “but why bother when I’m here to help?!” Peter grabbed the cutlery that had been placed by Ned’s plate and started sawing off a piece of burger—or tried to. “What are best friends for?”

Ned couldn’t hold back the look of horror on his face, “Peter! What are you doing?”

Peter ignored Ned’s obvious upset as he grappled with hiding his own. “I’m helping! I don’t know what we were thinking coming here. I should have thought this through and done something easier for you to manage.” He mashed what he’d managed to onto the fork and offered it up to Ned. “Open up.”

Ned shook his head in protest as he pulled the fork out of Peter’s hand. “Dude! What’s going on? I said I could feed myself!”

“I know what you said,” Peter reached across the table get his own cutlery to get back to work. “I’m saying that I can take care of you, so just let me!”

“Peter,” Ned backed up a little. “You’re being weird.”

“No, I’m being helpful!”

“No, Peter. You are being weird with a big, ol’ capital ‘W.’” Ned was concerned. “And have been since I decided to be an idiot and break my wrist! What’s going on?”

“Geez!” Peter slammed the knife and fork down onto the table, causing everything on it to clatter loudly enough that everyone in the restaurant stopped to stare, not that Peter noticed. “Nothing is going on, okay?!”

The restaurant fell silent, save for the deep baritone of Johnny Cash coming from the jukebox.

Peter’s cheeks flushed as he realized he’d made a scene.

Maybe something was going on, after all?

“Oh,” he whispered then reached into his back pocket to grab his wallet. “I think I need to—“ Peter grabbed a couple of twenties (thanks to Tony) and threw them on the table. “I’ve got lunch today, but I have to—“ Peter stood up from the booth. “I’m gonna go and—“ Peter’s eyes welled with tears as he looked at Ned, torn. “Are you okay to get home on your own? I was gonna—“ Peter’s voice cracked and he swallowed before trying again, “I was gonna get us a cab so you didn’t have to—“

Ned just nodded, trying to figure out what to say, but before he could say a word, Peter nodded back, bolted for the diner door, and disappeared down the street.

/-/-/

It was late before Peter made his way home; so late that he hoped and prayed with everything inside of him that everyone would be asleep and he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone or anything ever again until morning.

But they didn’t call it Parker Luck for no reason.

“Welcome home, Peter.” FRIDAY announced as Peter entered the elevator. “As requested, I’ve notified Boss and Mrs. Boss of your imminent arrival and they are waiting for you in the kitchen.”

Peter closed his eyes and sighed in defeat. “Any chance we can take me back down to the lobby and just pretend I was never here? Say there was a glitch in your system?”

“I’m sorry, Peter. Boss is eager for you to return to the penthouse and, based on your current physical state and my directive to do my utmost to ensure your physical wellbeing, being in the kitchen is exactly what you need.”

That wasn’t good.

Peter gnawed at his lower lip, trying to come up with some reason plausible enough to explain where he’d been all day. Tony wouldn’t want to hear that he walked around like a zombie, thinking about what a failure he was as a friend. He wouldn’t want to hear that Peter was wishing he was just gone so he could finally break the curse that was his lineage. No Peter meant no chaos, after all.

“Peter?” FRIDAY prompted similarly to only a week ago. “You’ve arrived at the penthouse. Do you need assistance?”

“No. I’m good. Thank you, FRIDAY.” Peter whispered and stepped out into the entry, bracing himself for the interrogation to come.

Peter was so tired.

“Kiddo?” Tony called out quietly from the kitchen.

Morgan was obviously asleep.

Peter dragged himself toward the kitchen. “Yeah, it’s me,” he answered as the kitchen came into view. “I didn’t mean for you to wait up for me...” He looked from Tony to Pepper then back to Tony again. “I’m sorry for being a bother.”

“Pfft. Kid.” Tony seemed to be assessing the boy before him as he responded, “Board meetings are a bother. Politicians are a bother. Those lice outbreak warnings Mo keeps bringing home from daycare are a bother.”

Pepper gave Tony a playful smack across the chest.

“What?! They are!” Tony defended himself.

“Tony! Be serious,” Pepper hissed as she stepped toward Peter and opened up her arms in invitation. “What Tony is trying to say is that we’ve been worried about you, sweetheart.”

Peter was hesitant to take the comfort. After all he’d done and how he’d failed?

Pepper dropped her arms and smiled sadly, “It’s alright, Peter. Ned called us about the diner.”

Peter’s pale cheeks reddened in embarrassment as he dropped his face in his hands. “Please kill me now,” he begged whatever deity would listen.

“Hey, no death jokes, Pete,” Tony came forward and grasped Peter’s shoulders. “It will always be too soon for that, so please...” He pulled Peter to his chest, then wrapped his arms around him. “So there was a little drama today? So what?”

“It was so bad,” he mumbled into his hands. “I needed to—no—I NEEDED to help him and then he didn’t want it and I didn’t even know what to do!”

“Okay?”

“I cut his food, Tony! I was going to feed him! I don’t even—I think I scared him!”

“Hey,” Tony pulled back just enough to see Peter’s face, still tucked and hiding. “Hey, Peter, come on,” Tony shifted to a one armed hug, freeing the other to brush gently against Peter’s cheek. “Ned cares for you so much and is just as worried about you as the rest of us.”

Peter felt his eyes fill again. “This was not a little drama, Tony.”

It was Pepper’s turn to try and lighten the mood, “Okay, but I’d bet you managed to keep all of your clothes on while it happened.”

Peter managed an ugly sounding snort-laugh as his tears fell.

“Pepper!” Tony called out, scandalized. “Such betrayal.”

Pepper shifted to manoeuvre to Peter’s other side to join in the hug. “Maybe, but for now,” her arms tightened around the boy, “we’ll take the distraction.”

“Fine,” Tony grumped, “but tomorrow,” Tony’s arms tightened as well, “no more distractions. We’ve got our favourite spider-kid to take care of.”

“But—I—” It was Peter’s job to take care of them! It was—he had to—why was his brain doing this?!

“No buts. It’s our turn to take care of you, and we’ve put this off long enough.” Pepper whispered soft and May-like. “We’ll figure out the big stuff tomorrow. Okay?”

Peter didn’t know what to think? How to answer? It was almost too much—except that he wasn’t alone, right?

His next exhale shook. “Tomorrow?”

Tony pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. “Tomorrow.”

And Peter hoped it would be okay.     

[septic-skele]

Sicktember Day 9: Overdramatic Caretaker - Undertale

“Have another bite, dearie,” Muffet urged as she foisted the bowl in one arm, stirring vigorously with another while scooping a steaming spoonful with a third.

Given that he’d barely finished the previous bite, Grillby hesitated. The cream of coal tar was as homey and hearty as ever. Combined with a thermal tarp and towels, it went a long way to warm him back up after that sudden cloudburst. That said, Muffet had whipped up enough for a whole family of fire monsters and apparently intended to see him clean the bowl in one sitting.

“…No, thank you. …I’m full.”

“What? First you lose the healthy glow in your cheeks and now your appetite?” As he muffled an ashy cough in one of his towels, she looked aghast. “You’re still sputtering; you could be on the verge of burning out and here I am stirring sludge! Why isn’t it working?! I was distracted, I-I must have done something wrong!”

She hadn’t. Fire was just fickle, quick to splash and slow to stoke. “Muffet…”

“What is it? The ratio of cream to coal must be off—or did I screw up the liquefaction to start with? I’m still new to Firish cuisine!”

“…Muffet?”

“Should I have called Dr. Alphys about the chemistry? I still need to haggle with her for some more healing extract—”

“…Muffet.” Catching her nearest hand, Grillby offered a wan but no less sincere smile. “…I won’t burn out. You’re doing fine. Although…if you really want to help…”

“Of course! What more can I do to make that obvious?”

“Sit with me…Slow down. Destress. Take deep breaths. …Kiss me better.” His chuckle at her incredulity provoked another cough but regardless he tugged her closer. “…I mean it. Sharing your oxygen…it helps.”

Well, she couldn’t argue with that.

[acasualcrossfade]

Someone to Stay

Sicktember Day 9: White Coat Syndrome

Stranger Things: Steve Harrington/ Eddie Munson

Words: 500 | Rating: T | CW: brief mentions of blood, needles, physical abuse, terrible fathers/ parents

@sicktember

Summary: Steve hates doctor’s appointments for many reasons. Eddie has a few ideas about how to help.

Find me on Ao3!

--

Steve stared at the circled square on the calendar for today’s date with a sinking feeling. The scribbled words were loud and clear.

Doctor’s appointment.

He hated the doctor’s office. The sharp smell of sanitizer, the white walls that made him feel claustrophobic…He wished for a way out of it. It helped that he couldn’t eat because of his blood draw; he doubted his stomach could handle anything.

“We leave in five,” Eddie called from the kitchen. 

“Can’t we just cancel?” Steve asked. “The headaches aren’t that bad.”

“Steve, they aren’t headaches, they’re migraines,” Eddie said, coming to place a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “And you’ve been getting them almost weekly.”

“I’ve had them for years,” Steve grumbled.

“Not like this,” Eddie reminded him gently. “I know you hate needles, but what is it about the doctor’s office?”

The childhood memory flashed in Steve’s mind and he caught snippets: the nurse with a tray of seven immunizations for his check-up, the way he’d fit himself behind the vending machine to hide, his father’s grip on him to pull him back in to the exam room, the force in which his father held him down as the nurse jabbed Steve with needles. Steve remembered the way he’d cried continuously afterwards and his father’s hot slap across his cheek to stop your tears. 

Steve swallowed down the sour taste in his mouth. He hadn’t described much of his childhood and he hadn't talked about the many doctor’s visits that ended with his parents arguing. They’d pick him up from the appointment and spend the car ride home nipping and digging at each other about what Steve’s results meant for sports and scholarships. Or worse, they’d be in a tight silence the whole way home, his father braking the car hard enough to make Steve carsick. 

“Just, don’t really like them,” Steve responded lamely.

“Is there a way I can help?” Eddie asked softly.

“It’ll be okay,” Steve sighed and nodded at the clock. “We’ve got to go.”

Eddie tugged Steve’s sleeve. “We’ve got a few minutes for this, hang on.” Eddie paused. “Maybe something for the waiting room? You still playing Animal Crossing on your Switch?”

Steve met Eddie’s eyes. “Yeah, you’d bring yours?”

“Course, that way I can play while I wait,” Eddie responded. “Maybe I can show you my new garden before you head in."

“You’re staying? I thought you had errands or something.”

Eddie gave him a look. “Yeah, I’m staying. No way I’m leaving you in there all alone.

Steve felt his face flush and a smile play at his lips. The thought of Eddie in the waiting room, not beside him but in the same building, simply nearby, melted the tension between his shoulders.

“And I’ll grab some snacks for after. We still have extra from watching Holly last week.” He stroked Steve’s cheek before heading to the kitchen. “You like Teddy Grams?”

Steve felt comforted. 

Maybe that’s what he needed all along. 

Someone to stay.

[sicktember]

Sicktember 2024 Prompt-Based Resources to Help You Get Started! 💚

**Sicktember 2023 prompt-based resources can be found [Here]

Hangovers

What is a hangover [niaaa.nih.gov]

15 hangover horror stories [buzzfeed.com]

7 ways to cure your hangover [health.harvard.edu]

How to Write a Drunk Character [allwritealright.com]

Over Indulgence

Dealing with Food hangovers [health.usnews.com]

4 Ways to Stop Digestive Discomfort  [michiganmedicine.org]

I Ate Too Much. Now What Do I Do? [osfhealthcare.org]

Is It Possible… Stomach Explode? [popsci.com]

Campus/Con Crud

Crushing the Campus Crud [hercampus.com]

So What is Con Crud  [granitcon.com]

Coming Down With the Crud  [bmhsc.org]

Rogue Organs

What Is Appendicitis? [hopkinsmedicine.org]

Gallbladder Removal [nhs.uk]

Tonsillectomy [mayoclinic.org]

Spleen Problems and Removal [nhs.uk]

Dizziness/Vertigo

Understanding Vertigo [on.bluecross.ca]

Types of Vertigo [acare.abbott.com]

Dizziness vs. Vertigo [cornerstonephsio.com]

Medieval Treatment

Medicine in the Middle Ages [ncbi.nlm.nih.gov]

6 Medieval Medical Practices [guavahealth.com]

Healing Power of Maggots/Leeches (Modern) [mountainview-hospital.com]

When Medicine was Humorous [merryfarmer.wordpress.com]

Mononucleosis

About Mono [cdc.gov]

Mono For Teens [kidshealth.org]

How to Test for Mono [mountsinai.org]

Sick People Food

What People Around the World Eat When Sick [businessinsider.com]

Sick Day Foods Across the Globe  [nyubiteclub.com]

8 Best Foods to Eat When Feeling Sick [forbes.com]

Toxin/Poison

Poisons and Toxins [sciencelearn.org]

Poisoning. What The Doctors Do [thedoctorwillseeyounow.com]

Common HouseHold Poisons [cincinnatichildrens.org]

FAQs Carbon Monoxide Poisoning [cdc.gov]

Brain Fog/Spaced Out

What is Brain Fog [everydayhealth.com]

Understanding Brain Fog [henryford.com]

Causes of Zoning Out [verywellhealth.com]

Aches And Pains

What Causes Body Aches When Sick? [uclahealth.org]

5 Tips For Writing About Physical Pain [louiseharnbyproofreader.com]

Hypochondriac tendencies

Illness Anxiety Disorder [my.clevelandclinic.org]

Signs You May be a hypochondriac [centerforanxietydisorders.com]

10 Health Anxiety Myths  [happiful.com]

How To Write Anxiety [writerscookbook.com]

Anaphylactic Response

What is Anaphylaxis  [betterhealth.vic.gov.au]

Anaphylactic Shock: What You Need to Know [healthline.com]

Waiting Rooms

What happens in the emergency department [advocatehealth.com]

Triage and Emergency Assessment  [ncbi.nlm.nih.gov]

Setting Description: Emergency Waiting Room [writershelpingwriters.net]

Summer Flu

Can You Get the Flu in the Summer? [verywellhealth.com]

Leisure Sickness  [avogel.ca]

Catching a Cold When It’s Warm [newsinhealth.nih.gov]

Heart Condition/Cardiac Arrest

Types of Heart Attacks [www.healthline.com]

Common Heart Conditions [summahealth.org]

What Does a Heart Attack Feel Like? [health.clevelandclinic.org]

How to Describe a Heart Attack in a Story [writingtipsoasis.com]

Pulling a Ferris Bueller

Define Pulling a Ferris Bueller [urbandictionary.com]

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off Summary [gradesaver.com]

10 Things Ferris Bueller Taught Us [dailyedge.ie]

A Note From the Mods [Tumblr Post]

Sick While Traveling

Take Steps to Stay Healthy While Traveling [cdc.gov]

Motion Sickness [sciencefocus.com]

How to Remove Vomit From Car Interior [wikihow.com]

Sick on Vacation Tips [apartmenttherapy.com]

Hospital Bed

How to Write a Hospital Scene [writersdigest.com]

Hospital Bed Components & Safety [robsonforensic.com]

9 Way to Help When Someone is Hospitalized [upstate.edu]

First Aid Kit

Make a First Aid Kit [redcross.org]

Travelers First Aid Kit [hopkinsmedicine.org]

Health Plan and First Aid for College [uh.edu]

Flushed Cheeks

Causes of Facial Flushing [verywellhealth.com]

What Can Cause Flushed Skin?  [medicalnewstoday.com]

Doctor's Note

Obtaining a Dr Note for Work [inhersight.com]

How to Get A Dr. Note for School  [solvhealth.com]

[shion-yu]

Sicktember 2024 Masterpost

Completed! :D

Day 1: "I'm not hungover, I'm just sick." (Cliff, Phoenix)

Day 2: Overindulgence (Alex, Ryo)

Day 3: Campus Crud (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 4: “Great, I got a cold for my birthday.” (Alex, Shu)

Day 5: Rogue Organ (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 6: Dizziness/Vertigo (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 7: Borrowed Hoodie (Alex, Ryo)

Day 8: Hospital Bed (alt) (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 9: Overdramatic Patient (Alex, Ryo)

Day 10: The Sniffles (Alex, Ryo, Cliff, Elliot)

Day 11: Medieval Treatment (Rey, Felix)

Day 12: “You’re not fine, you’re throwing up.” (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 13: Mononucleosis (Shu, Mathias)

Day 14: Clean Sheets/Fresh Pajamas (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 15: “Who decided soup is sick people food?” (Al, Theo)

Day 16: Toxin/Poison (Rey, Felix)

Day 17: Brain Fog (Cliff, Shu)

Day 18: My body is one big ache (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 19: “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” (alt) (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 20: Medication Bribery (Al, Theo)

Day 21: Anaphylactic Response (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 22: "You didn't use my cup, did you?" (Elliot, Alex)

Day 23: Under a Spell (Julian, Shu, RATED M)

Day 24: Tales from the Waiting Room (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 25: Summer Flu (Shu, Alex)

Day 26: Cardiac Arrest (Shu, Alex)

Day 27: This is non negotiable (Alex, Ryo)

Day 28: Pulling a Ferris Bueller (Rey, Felix)

Day 29: Sick on a Road Trip (Al, Theo)

Day 30: Contagion

[roselightfairy]

Ficlet for @sicktember prompts 8 ("The nearest doctor is probably hours away from here!") and 9 (Overdramatic patient/caretaker) with some Legolas and Gimli on the road. I've been wanting to think about how they must start adapting a travel-heavy lifestyle as Gimli gets older, and these prompts provided the perfect opportunity.

...

“Legolas.”

Legolas twisted at the waist, craning his neck around for a better look at his husband. Not for the first time, he cursed this riding position, which prevented him from seeing Gimli if he needed to, from noticing if anything was amiss with him. It had served them well enough in Gimli’s younger days, but Legolas would have switched the order of their seating long ago, if Gimli would let him. If Gimli would ever admit that there were times he needed Legolas’s help. “Yes, love?”

“I . . .” Gimli’s voice was tremulous, wavering below its usual volume. “I feel faint.”

Those words sent cold rushing through Legolas’s veins, the flood of an icy river crashing over him and throwing every sensation into sharp clarity. He moved fast – faster than he had perhaps ever moved in his life – silently calling the horse to a stop, turning his arms and body in a simultaneous sinuous motion: the arm reaching to steady Gimli and support his weight if he should sway, while sliding himself off the horse and onto the ground. He helped Gimli down after him before Gimli could so much as protest, his arms easing the transition between the horse and the ground, softening the landing beneath Gimli’s feet and then urging him into a seat on the side of the road.

Gimli grumbled, but less than Legolas would have expected – less than he would have if nothing ailed him. Legolas’s heart beat ferociously in his ears; he too felt faint now, but necessity kept him conscious and alert as he brought a hand to the pulse on Gimli’s neck, another to his chest –

“Legolas,” Gimli murmured, reaching up to catch his hand. “Legolas, it is no call for alarm. Already it is passing.”

Legolas pressed his lips together and ignored him.

Gimli was not one to exaggerate; if anything, he was much more likely to understate his symptoms and push himself beyond his limits. The fact that he would have been concerned enough about this to speak up – to call Legolas to a halt when he knew how to react –

Legolas had been wondering for years now when their traveling days would be behind them. The process of Gimli’s aging had been both slow and quick – quick, because he was a mortal, and his life and experience of time were still and always so much smaller than Legolas’s own. Slow, because he had somehow managed to slow Legolas down to his level – because, when he was with Gimli, the passing seasons did not fleet by beyond his notice, not when every moment was new and worth living to its fullest.

Gimli had managed to slow Legolas’s awareness down to mortal time, and he had forgotten to notice how quickly it was passing. But it had been quick indeed, the years swallowed up like the river into the sea, and now Legolas stood on the other side of so much time that he had not noticed, and Gimli had at last admitted that something on the road was too much for him –

“You are sure?” he said anxiously. “Does anything else ail you?”

“No,” said Gimli. “It was only momentary, Legolas, I swear to you.” When Legolas gazed at him skeptically, Gimli caught his hand where it still rested against his chest, pressed it closer until Legolas could hear his heart beating. “I think I was tired; that is all.”

“Tired?” echoed Legolas. “But you said” –

“I” – Gimli looked as though he had bitten into something sour. “I think these days of travel have grown too long for me,” he confessed. “I would stop to rest, if you are ready.”

At first, Legolas found no comfort in those words. Gimli would not have spoken up about something like this unless he felt truly dire. What was he hiding that Legolas could not see, that he did not want to cause him to worry about?

Unless –

No. Gimli would not lie to Legolas – not now, not when he knew how much of Legolas’s heart and mind were occupied by these very thoughts. He knew the ravages of Legolas’s mind too well, by now; he knew that paltry reassurance meant nothing. He would not say what he did now if he did not truly mean it.

“Of course,” breathed Legolas, and squeezed Gimli’s hand. “But you are – you are sure nothing ails you further?” He did not know what they could do if it did; the nearest healer must be hours away, if not days; they had last passed a town the day before. But he knew that he would ride anywhere, at any speed, for Gimli, if he needed it.

“I am sure,” Gimli said. He brought Legolas’s hand to his lips, and Legolas closed his eyes at the brush of soft beard and warm lips against his fingers. “A night of sleep, and I will be perfectly rested and ready to resume. I promise.”

Legolas turned his hand in Gimli’s grip, lacing their fingers together for a moment and holding on – more gently than he wanted, resisting the urge to squeeze Gimli’s hand as if he could stop the years from pouring like water between his fingertips. Still Gimli’s hand was the steady force it had always been, the stone grounding him to the world, to this moment, to these needs.

“All right,” he whispered, and dared to press just a little tighter. The future would come as it would, but for now, Legolas could put it off just a little longer.

But, as he let Gimli’s hand go and rose to sweep dry leaves into a bed for Gimli’s aging bones, he resolved to insist that they switch their riding positions tomorrow.