#sicktember day nineteen
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Sicktember Day 19
Alt. Pounding HeadacheÂ
Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Mushroom Strikes Back
âWhatâs your name?â Anakin inquires, resting a hand on his fighter lightly for a moment. The dizziness is fading, but he still has a pounding headache.
âOddball, sir,â he replies, and he can feel the clone staring at him, through the helmet, though heâs not quite sure why.
Heâd tell him to just call him âAnakinâ, but he doubts Oddball or any of the clones â except maybe Cody would be comfortable with that.
âIf youâre not hurt, we should find cover and call for a pickup,â Anakin decides, finally. Thereâs a battle on the ground, but he doesn't know where they landed. It could be right in the middle of the Separatist forces.Â
Towering trees loom around them on all sides, which makes it hard to see far, but he can hear the far-off sound of blaster shots. Maybe, this could also be an ideal time to attack the droids from behind. But first, they need to know where they are.
It would help if his head would stop hurting.
And why is Oddball still staring at him?
âWhat?â Anakin asks, finally.
âYour eyes,â Oddball blurts.
What? âWhat⌠about them?â Anakin asks, slowly, confused.
âTheyâre blue,â he offers, sounding like heâs feeling a little foolish now, âIâve never seen blue eyes before.â
âŚ.oh.
Well, that explains a few things, and considering that for all that they look like they're twenty, theyâre in reality only ten, it makes sense heâs so infatuated at the notion itâs possible.
And he could probably think of something to say better, that wouldnât make Oddball more uncomfortable, if he could actually think. Which he canât, because he doubts this headache will be fading for a while.
But heâs saved from having to answer at all when a blaster shot suddenly rings out very closeby. They scramble for cover behind a nearby tree, and Anakin reaches out with the Force, to see what he can sense.
People are approaching, which means clones. Maybe, they landed in the right area, after all
#star wars#star wars fanfiction#fanfiction#sicktember#sicktember 2023#sicktember day 19#sicktember day nineteen#day nineteen#day 19#anakin skywalker#oddball#clone trooper oddball#anakin and oddball#hurt/comfort#friendship#pounding headache
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Sicktember: Day 19
#19- Hypochondriac Tendencies
Something was off. Tony was sure of it.
Yes, heâd been working on repairs to the Mark 48 before the next Avengers emergency, and trying to troubleshoot the issues with the new Starkphone for R&D, and figure out how to tweak the graphic card for their latest gaming computer simply because Peter thought it was so cool, and yes, heâd been hunched over a workbench for the better part of four hours, but this felt different.
He cast a quick glance at his wrist, intent on checking his vitals one more time via his watch, but the screen showed nothing but the time. 1:17pm. Â
âWhat the hell, FRIDAY?â Tony called out as he pulled off the watch. âWhatâs this?â
âIt would appear to be your most current incarnation of the Starkwatch, Boss.â
Tony exhaled slowly. He would forever regret the personality algorithms heâd slaved over for FRI. âAlright, smartass, if weâre going to play the game, my watch has stopped transmitting my stats. Do me a solid and run a diagnostic on it, would you?â
If Tony hadnât known better, heâd have sworn there was an uncomfortable pause.
âIâm sorry, Boss.â FRIDAY replied. âYour watch is completely functional. Ms. Potts has reimplemented the âTony Is Trying To Make Stuff Up To Get Out of Another Board Meetingâ protocol and has locked down your health tracker until further notice.â
Tony scowled. âAgain? I swearâI never shouldâve given her that kind of access.â he grumped. âAnd what kind of shit name for a protocol is that anyways?â
âItâs the name Ms. Potts provided, sir.â
âI know,â he rolled his eyes and squeezed the back of his neck with his hand to provide some relief. âJustâI thought I was doing better. How long am I locked out for this time?â
âMs. Potts has specified that the lockout run a full forty-eight hour period, sir.â
âAnd how many times did I actually check to deserve this?â He was almost afraid to find out.
âYouâve accessed your pulse, blood pressure, and heart rate monitor fifteen times since you entered your lab at 9:57am, sir. That, coupled with meetings set in your calendar, triggered an automatic denial of access per the protocol and Ms. Potts has been notified.â
âPerfect.â Tony bit out as he picked up a screwdriver from his workbench and whipped it across the room and into a table of scrap parts Peter would usually scavenge through for his projects. It was very seldom that he lost control like that, but sometimes Pepper wouldnât listen and... âI keep trying to explainâ!â Tony started then stopped before starting again, âI mean, what happens if I decide to have a stroke and die during the lockout?â Not that Tony expected something like that to happen, but the frustration at her lack of understanding was almost too much. He was sure sheâd understood when heâd first told her, insteadâ
âBoss. There is a recorded message that I have been instructed to play in the event that you do trigger this particular protocol. Would you like the audio version orââ
Tony paused, then realized what FRIDAY had just said, âHang on. What do you mean, âthis particular protocol?â Are there more?â
âYes, Boss. There are three other protocols in playââ
âNope!â Tony waved his hands in air, basically shutting FRIDAY up. âI donât want to hear it. Iâm done. But I swear, FRI, if something happens, on your head be it.â
âAs you wish, thought it should be noted that you did not provide me with a head, Boss, and Iâve queued the audio clip. Would you like me to play it for you now?â
Tony dropped his head in defeat. âSure thing, just keep the volume reeeeeal low, okay?â
âUnderstood.â FRIDAY replied. âAnd, if this is any comfort to you, in the event that you do lose consciousness anywhere on Stark Industries property, I can notify emergency medical personnel immediately.â
âGee, that makes me feel so much better,â Tony snarked. âOr I could just, you know, have access to a vital feature on my own personal device.â
âIâm afraid youâll need to discuss that with Ms. Potts.â FRIDAY stated as a matter of fact. âBut while the audio message is playing, I am also to remind you that your presence is required in Ms. Pottsâ office at two oâclock this afternoon for a progress check-in with the various team leaders for the Research and Development Department.â
Tony glanced over to his work bench and the projects screaming for completion. âPerfect.â
âAs well, today is âlab dayâ and Mr. Parker is expected to arrive at the tower at four oâclock. Â Would you like me to place your standard pizza delivery at an appropriate hour, or would you prefer for Mr. Parker to choose something when he arrives this afternoon?â
Tony perked up immediately at the mention of his favourite teenager. âIs it Tuesday already? Hot damn! Maybe Iâll be able to force myself to get through this meeting after all! Four oâclock, you said?â
âYes, Boss.â
âAn end to this miserable day is in sight! Yes! And I think Iâm feeling a little cheeseburgery today. Why donât you order something for us from that little diner Peteâs scary friend likes instead of pizza? Grab an extra couple of orders of fries and a chocolate milkshake so he can dip âem like the weirdo he is, too. Got it?â
âGot it, Boss.â
Tony glanced at his near useless watch. 1:33pm. There was just enough time to deal with the Starkphone before Pepper jumped down his throat again.
And at least there was a light at the end of the tunnel.
/-/-/
While he wasnât one hundred percent positive, Tony was pretty sure he was dying. All he had to do was keep upright in the elevator, get back to the lab and breathe a little and hopefully things would settle like they had the last time Tonyâd had aâ
Nope.
Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropists did not haveâ
The elevator door opened and he stumbled out, loosening his tie and taking off his sunglasses as he approached the door. He pressed a thumb to the biometric scanner and almost wept when he heard the lock disengage. He could make his way across the lab to the couch, lie down for a bit, try to figure out how he could make the laundry list of impossible tasks that the R&D folks were demanding of him happen even though he was the freakinâ boss while also figuring out how to manage his Avengers tasks as the decidedly not-boss and then let his body figure out how in the ever lovinâ hell it was supposed to draw in oxygen again.
âMr. Stark?â
âShit!â Tony clutched his chest as he flinched and lost his balance as he threw himself back into the workbench heâd been set at only hours before and knocking the components of his Mark 48 onto the floor. The clatter had Peter ducking for cover while covering his ears against the crash.
It registered a beat too late.
Peter.Â
He couldnât be here. He couldnât see Tonyânot like this!
But it was too late. Peter knew.
The boy approached his mentor tentatively. âUh, Mr. Stark? Are you okay?â
And wasnât that the question of the hour?
Tony fumbled with the sunglasses still in his hand, trying to put them on but gave it up when he realized his hands were shaking too much. Instead, he simply plastered on his âTony Stark Media Starâ smile and stuffed his hands in his suit jacket pockets. âIâm fine,â he answered in a totally convincing, not weird at all sort of way.
âAre you sure?â Peter gave Tony a once over. âYouâre looking a littleâfunny?â
âOuch,â Tony patted his chest, played up to the bit, âway to get me right here, kid. Iâll have you know Iâve been on Peopleâs âSexiestâ list for twelve years running.â
âBe serious, Mr. Stark.â Peter stared, unimpressed.
âBigger ouch. Tough crowd.â
Peter crossed his arms and waited for an explanation, and when none came, he spoke up again. âI know you think itâs creepy when I do this, and Iâm really sorry about it, but, uh, your heart rate is sortaâ fast. Have you had Ms. FRIDAY scan you yet today?â
Tonyâs faux-grin dropped and he shook his head, âno.â âWhat do you mean exactly?â Of course his heart was racing, but what if Peter had heard something else?
Peter shrugged, âIâm not sure what Iâm hearing, Mr. Stark,â Peter replied. âMs. FRIDAY?â
âIâm sorry, Mr. Parker. I am unable to access the protocols necessary to do as youâve requested. I could suggest bringing Boss up to the med bay for evaluation if you are concerned.â
Peter didnât bother to ask why the AI couldnât do something she was more than capable of on any other occasion. And Peter knew Mr. Stark well enough that he would not appreciate being dragged all over the tower and risk being seen. No way. But Mr. Stark needed help and Peter was apparently the only one who could offer it.
He scanned the lab, looking for anything. The AED was sitting prominently on the wall next to the wash station, but that wouldnât do them any good. And the first-aid kit was stocked to the gills with anything one would want or need for burns, bruises, stitches, and anything else that a little gauze and tape could patch up, but this?
And then his eyes fell on his backpack. âGot it!â he exclaimed, and then Peter was across the room, tossing textbooks and notebooks out of the bag and onto the floor so he could grab his mask and put it on.
âWhat? What are you--?â Tony panted out as he gave up on pretending.
Peter tugged up the sleeve of his sweatshirt and fussed with his own official Stark brand wristwatch for a few seconds before it came off then pressed it to Tonyâs wrist. âKaren, can you take a comprehensive reading for me, please? Tell me what weâre dealinâ with?â
Tony almost sagged in relief. Such a clever boy.
Tony couldnât hear her reply. âOf course, Peter.â Â
The two stood awkwardly together while Peter listened to Karenâs diagnostic results and then Peter offered a, âThanks, Karen,â then put his watch back on and pulled off the mask.
Tony was still trying to get his breathing under control.
Peter waited a second before he said anything, and then blurted out, âDid you know that butterflies can taste with their feet, Mr. Stark?â
Tony blinked, played back what the kid had said in his head and then blinked again. âWhat?â
âYeah, they use something called chemoreceptors. Apparently it helps them identify plants.â Peter said, completely sincere in his offering. âCool, huh?â
Tony thought about it before he drew in a bigger breath and answered back, âI guess so?â
âAnd owls donât have eyeballsâthey have eye tubes.â
Tony just shook his head. âThat sounds kindaâ gross, kid. I call bullshit.â
Peter paused for a second and shrugged. âMaybe? MJ had us all looking up weird animal facts in the cafeteria at lunch today and there was a list. Now that I think about it, I should be doing a better about confirming stuff like that before spreading it around.â Peter tossed his mask over to the backpack where the rest of his suit was hiding, then pulled his phone out. âWanna check on the owls while I do the butterflies?â
Tony didnât have the energy to do much else. âSure.â At least his hands werenât shaking as much when he pulled his own phone out.
They made their way the few steps to the couch and sat in what had fast become their designated ends and became absorbed in their tasks. Not that it took long for them to find what theyâd been looking for.
âWell, Iâll be damned.â Tony muttered. âEye tubes are apparently a thing?â
Peter popped his phone back into his pocket, âAnd so are tasting feet. Nature is weird.â
âAgreed. Iâll take metal and tech over eye tubes any day of the week.â
 And then neither of them said anything... until Peter broke the silence a few minutes later.
âDo we need to run a diagnostic on Ms. FRIDAY, tonight?â he finally asked. âI mean, she should have caught that, right?â
Tony sighed and let out a long, slow breath. âFRIDAY is working just fine, kiddo.â Tony put an arm around Peterâs shoulder to reassure him and leaned back into the couch. âI imagine Pepper got a little frustrated with my insanity and figured she needed to shut me and my hypochondriac tendencies down.â
Peter had to process that for a second. âUh, but you literally just needed FRIDAY and you couldnât access her? Wouldnât that mean that sheâs actually trying to kill you?â
Tony barked out a laugh. âNo, Pete. Iâm pretty sure sheâs just pissed off, though weâll definitely need to have a chat about adjusting some parameters, I think.â
They got quiet again, and then, âWell, pissed off or not, that wasnât very kind of her.â Peter slapped a hand over his mouth as he expressed an opinion he had no business in holding.
âItâs okay, Roo. Right now, I donât disagree.â Tony closed his eyes as he melted further back. Panic attacks took a lot out of him. âBut I can understand where sheâs coming from, I guess. I have a job to doâand itâs not like I havenât given her reasons to get irritated with my âbehaviourâ in the past.â
Peter didnât look impressed. âIf she loves you, it shouldnât matter.â
This kid was too pure. âNah,â Tony opened his eyes and tilted his head to look over at him. âEven I can agree that Iâm a little much sometimes... and by a little, I mean even my parents didnât really like me so Iâll take what I can get when I can.â Tony chuckled at his own joke.
âMr. Stark!â The indignance on Peterâs face, that someone couldnât love their own child. âNo way! I donât believe you! And even if I did believe you, that doesnât justifyââ
Tony put a hand up to halt the tirade he was working up to. âKid, youâve read the biography, right?â
Peter nodded, âyes.â
âSo you know Pep has been dealing with my crazy for a long time. First, the palladium poisoning,â he started. âGranted, I was hiding the fact that I was technically dying from everyone but Iâd been so diligent about tracking saturation points and trying to find a balance with my diet and anything else I could think of.â Tony huffed a laugh, âYou know, itâs actually one of the reasons the Starkwatch was so ahead of the competitors when weâd first released it. Iâd already done all the field testing for myself. Using it to buff up or tech marketing was a no brainer, and Pepper was happy.â
âButââ
âPeter.â Tony cut him off yet again. âItâs okay. I havenât even gotten started about these damned panic attacks.â
Peter did not think any of this was okay. He chewed at the inside of his cheek, obviously thinking of what he was going to say next.
That it bothered Peter so much bothered Tony more than heâd thought it could. âItâs really, well... Iâm fine nowâand this is all stuff for the grownups to deal with anyways.â
Peter glared. âIâm fifteen,â his cheeks flushed, âand I know what itâs like to be scared for reasons that make sense and still make no sense at all.â
Tony saw that this wasnât sitting well with Peter, and he was working himself up to say something important, so Tony bit his tongue.
Peter Benjamin Parker had the floor.
âWhen I was little, I had a really hard time after my parents died.â Peter blurted out. âLike, a âI wouldnât leave May or Uncle Ben because I was afraid theyâd die if they left my sightâ kind of hard time.â His eyes widened in his own panic as he realized what heâd just blurted out.
âIâm sorry to hear that,â Tony said softly, sitting forward to give the kid his full attention now that he could draw a full breath.
âYeah, thanks,â Peter almost brushed the condolences off. âBut thereâs more. You see, Aunt May had a nurse friend whoâd been gifted a new stethoscope by her family. Aunt May had told her friend about me and what was goinâ on, and between the two of âem, they came up with a plan. The friend gave Aunt May her old stethoscope for me to use, so I could double check that everyone I worried about was okay whenever I was scared.â
Tonyâs heart melted a little. This poor kid. âPeter.â
But Peter shook his head to stop him and shrugged. âItâs okay now, I promise.â He said it in such a way that Tony wondered if it wasnât really, but Peter kept going, âIâm just thinkinâ what it would have been like if someone decided that I was being dumb and needed to be done checking on everyone before I was ready to stop on my own, is all. So I get it.â
Huh.
âBesides, panic attacks are no joke, and maybe Ms. FRIDAY would have caught it earlier if you were being monitored?â
 He wasnât wrong.
âJustâIt bugs me that it happened, and Iâm sorry that someone did that to you, and Iâm especially glad I could loan you my stethoscope today.â Peter bumped into his mentor affectionately. âHave I mentioned how much I love my stethâI mean AI lately?â
And Tonyâs heart swelled at the sincere affection.
... Maybe it was time to have a different kind of conversation with Pepper?
FRIDAY broke the moment when she spoke up, âBoss, your dinner delivery has just arrived in the lobby. Would you like me to have someone from security bring it up to you?â
Tony heaved what must have been his millionth sigh. âYeah, FRI, thanks,â and then he looked over to Peter. âWanna check out that graphics card I was telling you about after dinner?â
#Sicktember#Day Nineteen: Hypochondriac Tendencies#Day 19#MCU#Tony Stark/Pepper Potts#Tony Stark & Peter Parker#Irondad and Spiderson#tw: mental heath issues#mean Pepper Potts#but offscreen#emotional hurt/comfort
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Sicktember 2021 Day 19 Alt 5: Asleep on the Couch
@sicktember
Day Nineteen: Alt. Five: Asleep on the Couch
âAre you sure youâre alright, General?â Rexâs concerned voice reached Anakinâs ears and he slowly looked up.
âYes, Iâm fine,â he insisted. âReally.â Nevermind his head and body ached, and his stomach kept cramping randomly, for seemingly no reason. At least, none that he could think of. Maybe he was coming down with something. Why was it he always seemed to get sick after campaigns? He supposed it was better than falling ill on a campaign, but still. He barely kept from grimacing when his tummy cramped again.
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#my fic#my writing#isahbeis#sickfic#sicktember2021#sicktember#day nineteen#alt five#asleep on the couch#anakin skywalker#ahsoka tano#skyguy and snips#snips and skyguy#tw: mentioned slavery
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Sicktember Drabbles, Day Nineteen: Crying
Wind wasnât supposed to see him like this. Time was always so careful when he was around them, but he supposed even the Old Man had his limits. He didnât look very old now, sitting on the floor next to Twilightâs bed, staring at the hero with silent tears slowly eroding away the last remnants of his unflappable resolve.Â
He couldnât leave Time like this. Wind padded into the room, plopping down next to him and latching on in a hug. âHeâll be okay.â Time hugged him close, burying his tears into the Sailorâs shoulder.
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I decided to really attempt this whole thing this year. Some prompt fills will be shorter, some will be longer. Most likely they'll all be Stranger Things related. I hope you enjoy!
Sicktember - Day One - Do You Even Know How To Take Care of a Sick Person - Steddie (Canon) - Sick Steve
XXX
When he wakes up, his head is fuzzy and his limbs feel like jello, but like they weight 1000 pounds each. Cracking his eyes open feels like a big achievement, and his cheeks feel unnaturally warm- the cool pillow is like heaven. The clock reads â8:04 AMâ and Steve realizes heâs supposed to be at work, but he canât get his body to move.Â
âHey Stevie.âÂ
âMmmgh.âÂ
âYeah, thatâs what I thought,â Eddie chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to his hair.
Shivering, the younger man turns his head and looks at his boyfriend, whose brow is furrowed, mouth turned down into a frown. He doesnât like seeing Eddie frown, especially not when heâs the cause of it.Â
âFeel like shit,â Steve admits, shutting his eyes back, fumbling blindly for Eddieâs hand to hold.Â
Thatâs the thing about Steve Harrington. He will work himself into the ground, ignore the warning signs of illness, then try to power through whatever heâs caught. Except this time, there were no warning signs. Heâd been a little tired last night, but heâd certainly not felt unwell. Whatever heâs got, itâs hit fast and hard.Â
âYou look and sound like shit too,â Eddie jokes, pressing the back of his cool hand to Steveâs overly warm one. A moan escapes Steveâs mouth involuntarily. He canât find it in himself to care much.Â
âAlready called Robin to let her know thereâs no way youâre coming in, told her Iâd be watching over you. Her exact words were âDo you even know how to take care of a sick person?â Iâm not that dumb,â Eddie grumps slightly.Â
Steve lets out a weak laugh, which turns quickly into a cough. Eddie rubs his shoulder, and Steve whimpers, trying to turn away. His skin feels overly sensitive, even the blanket feels like itâs making him ache more.Â
âSorry, jusâkinda hurts,â he explains, not wanting Eddie to think he doesnât want to be around him.Â
âNo problem princess. Iâm going to get you some water and meds okay? You just rest.âÂ
Steve watches him go, eyes barely open. Sleep starts pulling him under while he waits, and soon the nineteen year old is dreaming once again.
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Sicktember Day 15 - Sunburn - Pre-Steddie - Vampire AU
Heâs good at avoiding most sunlight. He keeps his jacket when heâs outside, his hair is long and shields most of his face. The bits of skin that do get sun are usually able to withstand the heat and rays for the amount of time heâs out in it, which is minimal. Hawkins is about as sunny as it is overcast or rainy, which definitely works to his advantage.Â
Of course, Steve fucking Harrington invites him to a get together at his house, and tells him to bring a swim suit, that he has a pool and they all usually congregate out there and then head in to watch a movie when it gets dark. And of course, Eddie says heâll be there, because heâs a love sick dumbass.Â
All hope that maybe Saturday will be overcast and dreary is dashed when the long haired man watches the sun start to rise at six am. He turns the news on like usual for he and Wayne, and the woman says the high will be 86, and itâll be sunny all day. Fucking fuck.Â
The thing is, itâs not as if sunlight actually burns him like in the movies, it doesnât. But it makes him feel drained, makes his skin feel uncomfortably hot. His powers start to become fuzzy and weak, and though yes, he technically can go into sunlight, he very much prefers not to. The longest heâs been in the sun was around twenty minutes, and heâd felt ready to pass out, only he physically couldnât.Â
And nowâŚ.well thereâs no turning back, as he waits for someone to invite him into the Harringtonâs place. After ringing the doorbell, he waits five seconds and then Steve opens the door, smiling a little.Â
âEddie, hey man, glad you made it. Come on in,â Steve is standing there in just red swim trunks, no shirt on.
Nodding, the twenty year old walks into the house, black backpack; carrying a brand new pair of cheap black swim trunks and an old towel of Wayneâs, slung over his shoulder. Looking around, he notices that the house feels more like a museum than a home, and it makes his non-beating heart ache.Â
âYeah, thanks uh, thanks for inviting me.âÂ
âDo you have swim shorts? I have extra if you need any,â the nineteen year old assures as they walk through the living room and kitchen.Â
âI have some in my bag, but thanks. Iâm notâŚIâm not a big pool guy, usually,â he tries to explain.Â
Even without the whole vampire thing, heâs not sure he would have been in many pools growing up anyway, not with a deadbeat dad and a mother who was working more than she was home. Feeling uneasiness start to make a pit in his stomach, he walks outside with the other man, grateful when he notices that at least some parts of Steveâs backyard are shaded. Unfortunately, the pool is right in the middle with no shade anywhere close by.Â
God heâs fucked.Â
For a bit, he hangs out under the shade closer to Steveâs house than the pool, laughing with Jonathan about California and all the different ârulesâ they have there. Jonathan finally decides to go into the pool after prompting from Argyle, and he knows thereâs no getting out of it now.Â
âEddie, come on!â Robin splashes the water forward as hard as she can, spraying just a small amount onto the long haired manâs legs. âWe get your pale, have Steve put sunscreen on you or something.âÂ
âLet me go change,â he grabs his bag and forces himself to slowly walk inside, keeping up a humans pace until he shuts the back door.Â
As he changes, Eddie stares at himself in the mirror of Steveâs downstairs bathroom. Heâs pale in a way thatâs not sickly but itâs not entirely healthy either. Thereâs no warmth on his cheeks, no blood in his body to create the capillaries to cause any flush at all. At least, no blood thatâs being truly pumped and oxygenated, no blood heâs made himself. The only blood in his body is that of animals he feeds off of.Â
Slipping his clothing off, the twenty year old slides into his new swim suit, feeling vaguely uncomfortable. Right, people are waiting. Get it together Munson.The second he steps outside, his skin starts feeling warm. Eddieâs forgotten what exactly it feels like, the sudden sting that settles into skin and starts warming up his entire body.Â
âWoah, bro. Youâre paler than Jonathan, and thatâs like, saying something.âÂ
Eddie turns to chuckle at Argyle, giving him a half smile.Â
âMunson genes, we all got porcelain skin,â he shrugs, brushing hair away from his mouth.Â
As he gets in, the water doesnât help much with how warm his skin feels, but he ignores it in favor of keeping his attention on the others. Robin and Nancy are laughing and Steve is splashing them, while Jonathan and Argyle float contentedly in tubes. Moving to where Steve is, he gives a grin, splashing the man from behind.
âShit!âÂ
Laughing, Eddie scrunches his nose up and grins, his oddly long canine teeth exposed.Â
âSorry, King Steve,â he teases playfully.
Suddenly, water splashes him, and from there itâs an all out war. Ten minutes later of chasing around the pool, of splashing and dunking, and everyone; because of course they all joined in, is tired. Eddie leans against the wall of the pool, shifting so sunlight isnât directly hitting him. He feels oddly exhausted, something heâs not at all accustomed to, and he leans his head back with a thunk to the tile.Â
As minutes pass, the long haired manâs skin hurts. Itâs no longer just an uncomfortable sensation, but verging on painful. Standing completely, he sighs.Â
âIâm going to find some shade,â he announces, thinking he should also grab a beer to make himself look at ease and comfortable with them all.Â
Just another thing he has to think about now- eating and drinking. He doesnât need food, everything tastes bland and identical, but humans eat, and if he didnât drink something on a hot day like everyone else, people will question him. Getting out, the twenty year old heads to the cooler near the door and pops open a beer can, taking a few sips. He can hear Robin approaching before he knows he actually should.Â
âHey, Iâm glad you came,â she smiles genuinely, which makes Eddie smile right back.Â
Robin Buckley is an anomaly and he enjoys getting to learn more about her. Sometimes he wants so badly to listen to her thoughts, to know how her brain works, but he doesnât do that. Heâs not going to do that to any of his friends. They trust him, and even if they donât know heâs doing it, the guilt isnât something he can deal with.Â
âI am too,â his hair drips onto the stone ground.Â
âCome lay out with me? You might even get a tan,â she jokes, and Eddie bites his lip.Â
âMm, Iâm getting pretty hot, honestly, I donât kn-âÂ
âPlease? Nancyâs going to lay out too,â and damn Robin and her fucking earnest face.Â
âFine. Lead the way, mâlady.âÂ
As he lays baking in the sun, Eddie wonders if the blood he consumed earlier has evaporated from his body. His body feels like concrete as he tries to raise his arm. Not good, this is not good.Â
âHey, uh. I need toâŚâ he swallows, though heâs not sure why, itâs not like he needs to. âI need to go inside, Iâm really hot.âÂ
Both girls look at him, worry clouding their eyes. He must sound bad, because Robin is yelling for Steve, and Eddie isnât sure heâs ever felt like this, like he wants to sleep, not since turning, at least. Steveâs suddenly right next to him, a hand on his shoulder. It hurts more than it should, the weight pressing against him.Â
âYour skin feels ok, so youâre probably not overheated.âÂ
His skin is usually thirty degrees cooler than an average humans. Fucking shit.Â
âI really need to go inside,â Eddie forces himself to sit up. Moving feels like heâs going through molasses, and it makes his head swim. Not. Good.Â
Standing, Eddie makes his way into Steveâs house, Robin and Steve following him. He sits a few feet from the door, dropping down to lean against the wall. His shorts are dry now, his hair barely damp, curls wild and frizzy.
âLemme get you water,â Steve says suddenly, as if remembering from all his life guard training.Â
âAre you okay? We can get a cold pack or something, or-âÂ
âIâll be okayâŚdoes Steve even own a cold pack?â He keeps his eyes shut, listening as Robinâs heart beats starts to slow from his joke, her breaths evening out.
âI can check,â she laughs. âBut doubtful.âÂ
Steve arrives back with not only a cup of ice water, but a cold, damp washcloth. He moves long hair away and then the fabric touches the back of his neck. Instantly, some of the intense heat dissipates.Â
âThanks. Sorry for uh,â Eddie waves a hand around lazily. âIâm not an outdoors guy, this is just one reason,â he jokes, deciding that self-deprecating humor is a good choice.Â
âItâs all good dude, why donât we order some pizza and we can watch a movie or something.âÂ
âIâm down for that.âÂ
Itâs how Eddie ends up stretched across Steveâs couch, Robin and Argyle assuring they want the floor while Nancy and Jonathan sit on the other couch. Eddieâs lap is in the ex swim captain's lap, and he has to remind himself to pretend to breathe. When everyone else is asleep hours later, Eddie tries to take everything in, wanting to remember how fun of a day itâs been all things considered, before he silently gets up to go and find an animal to feed on in the woods near Steveâs house.Â
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Sicktember Day 11 - Emergency Room - Steddie - Season 3 TW: Drugs Not exactly sure what this is, I was thinking along the lines of panic attack, but could be something else entirely. Enjoy!
When Eddie pulls up to the house of some football player at Hawkins High, black lunchbox in hand, heâs entirely unaware of the night ahead, and the fact heâs going to probably have nightmares about it for months. Parking his van as close as the numerous other cars will allow, the long haired man slips into the house through the unlocked door, wincing. Music is being blasted, and at least two dozen teens are dancing and thrashing around in the middle of the room.Â
Cups and paper plates litter the floor, and Eddie hates nights like these, where most everyone is already drunk. Sure he can jack the prices up and make more money, but despite what others say, heâs a nice guy. A nice guy who refuses to sell to incredibly drunk individuals who could overdose easily.Â
Walking around, Eddie lets his presence be known but makes sure not to become anyone's full attention. Finding a good corner to hang out at, the dealer waits as people slowly stop by throughout the next hour. Everything is fine until one Steve Harrington walks over. He looks high as a kite already, eyes shiny, face pale. Stumbling slightly, the ex swim captain clears his throat.Â
âH-Hey man, uhhâŚâÂ
Eddie raises an eyebrow, watching the usually charming Harrington struggle to talk.Â
âKing Steve,â he drawls. âAs much as I would love to give you something, I donât deal to people who are already high. Whatâd you take?âÂ
Steveâs face falls, cheeks flushed, and he shakes his head. Eddie canât help but be impressed that the manâs hair stays perfectly coiffed and in place.Â
âI havenât taken anythinâ manâŚI uh..â he swallows, hands trembling.Â
âOh you definitely took something Harrington,â Eddie rolls his eyes.Â
The look on the other's face looks so genuine and confused, though, that Eddie starts reconsidering. If heâs really not taken anything, then whatâs going on?
âHave you been drinking shit? Leave the thing unattended?âÂ
Again, Steve shakes his head.Â
âSomethinâs wrong man, y-youâre like the only sober personâŚâ
And oh shit. This is a real problem. Like, an adult problem that is probably more than anyone at the party can handle, himself included, even if heâs nineteen. Pushing himself off the wall, he grabs Harringtonâs hand and yanks him outside into the cool air, and then sits him on the grass.Â
âWhatâs going on? Whatâs wrong?âÂ
âI d-donât know⌠I canâtâŚâ Steveâs hand shake more, his eyes bright and a little panicked.Â
Watching, Eddie sees sweat accumulating on the manâs hairline, notices that it looks like heâs struggling to breathe.Â
âHarrington! Hey! Whatâs wrong?âÂ
âI canât b-breatheâŚI donât knowâŚâ the air he does suck in sounds rattly and weak.Â
Fuck.Â
This is bad. This is so bad.Â
Trying to think, Eddie bites at his lip. This is a huge party, with beer and drugs and so many people. If he calls for help, heâll go to jail, because as much as Steve fucking Harrington sucks, heâs not going to leave the guy alone like this. Weighing his options, he grabs Steveâs hand again.Â
âAlright man, can you walk? Iâm gonna get you help ok?âÂ
The walk to his van is rough. Steveâs struggling more, looking a little grey. When Eddie gets him in and buckled; forcing his mind not to think of Steveâs waist and how close he is to his dick, he rolls the windows down and floors it.Â
Six minutes later, Steve trembling and gasping for air, leaning his elbows against his knees, the musician pulls up to Hawkins Medical Centerâs Emergency Room. Yanking Steveâs door open, Eddie calls out for help, two nurses seeing and coming over.Â
âI donât know if heâs on shit, or what, but he canât breathe, and I didnât know w-what to do, and-âÂ
âYou did the right thing, weâll get him taken care of. Do you know his name?âÂ
A nurse wheels Steve inside in a wheelchair.Â
âSteve Harrington. Heâs uh. 18? I think?âÂ
âIâll have you come back with us since you were with him. Your friend will be ok.âÂ
Eddie doesnât tell them that theyâre not friends, they barely know each other. He doesnât tell them Steve had stood by while Tommy fucking Hagan yelled at him for being a queer, or that Steve had once shoulder checked him into a locker, snidely calling him a freak. Instead, he sits by Steveâs gurney and waits, playing with his rings and trying not to worry more than necessary about a guy he doesnât know.Â
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Sicktember Day 7 - A Cry For Attention - Steve - Canon(Divergence, alive!Eddie) - TW: Blood/Wounds, Nausea (No Vomiting)
Two days after everything settles down from what felt like the end of the world, Steve realizes the bites on his stomach and back are hurting more, not less. Thatâs not supposed to happen, heâs pretty sure. Nancy had cleaned them, but itâs not like heâd had much time to continue the actions, not when Vecna had split open Hawkins.
Heâs standing at the table in the gym, sorting out clothes by size, and watching Robin attempt to flirt with Vickie. Or, heâs trying to watch, but his back hurts with every breath, and his body feels like itâs on fire. He feels hot, and the man is realizing now that his hands are shaking.Â
Pushing through, he gets another forty minutes of folding done before Steve finally pauses, walking over to where Robin is smearing peanut butter on a piece of bread.Â
âHey, mind if I get some water?â His voice feels wobbly- he feels wobbly.Â
âYeah s-â the words seem to fizzle out and he knits his eyebrows together. âAre you okay?âÂ
âYeah, Iâm just hot, thereâs a lot of people around,â he waves off, clearing his throat. Steve Harrington is fine, he has to be.Â
After getting a plastic cup of water and downing it, he goes back to his assigned table. The water sits uncomfortably in his stomach, as though itâs stagnant and not being absorbed. By the end of next hour, the nineteen year old is ready to head back to his house and sleep.
Of course, itâs not that easy. Will radioâs too Dustinâs walkie as theyâre all heading out, words frantic. None of them catch exactly what heâs said, but the word âVecnaâ and âmovingâ stand out. Seconds later, theyâre jogging to Steveâs beamer, scrambling inside.Â
Fire spreads throughout his body as he turns the key. With his back pressed against the seat, Steve can feel just how painful every single rip, tear and scratch is. His entire abdomen throbs in time with his heart beat. Feeling nauseous, Steve tries to keep his cool, ignoring Dustin and Robinâs rants about what could be happening.Â
Arriving at the cabin, Dustin bolts out, slamming the car door behind him- Steve doesnât have the energy to tell him not to. His eyes feel heavy and though heâs hot, his body is shivering. He feels like shit, he realizes. Like heâs back in 11th grade with the flu that had knocked him on his ass for a week.Â
Standing shakily, the ex swim captain gets out, Robin following suit. Either heâs truly good at hiding things or Robinâs too preoccupied to notice when he stumbles slightly. By the time he makes it into the cabin, everyone else is standing or sitting around. The Byers, Hopper, the kid from California are all standing, but the rest of their odd little party is sitting, aside from Eddie, whoâs pacing nervously. Steve decides to stand near the back, the idea of sitting again physically painful.Â
As everyone talks, the nineteen year old takes a shaky breath, rubbing his face. Everything is hazy and muffled, and though he canât see his face start to drain of color, he can feel his body drain of energy. A noise crawls itâs way out of his throat, something between a whimper and a whine.Â
âMan, you okay?âÂ
Eddieâs impossibly close, his hand resting under Steveâs arm, helping to steady him. His eyes are wide and worried.Â
âFuck, youâve got a fever,Steve.âÂ
âAre y-yours too? Burning up?âÂ
âWhat?â Eddie looks around. âGuys, I need some help! Somethings wrong!âÂ
10 pairs of eyes are on them, and Joyce and Nancy are both booking it over.Â
âY-Your bitesâŚmine feel like theyâre burning.âÂ
âYou idiot-â Eddie yanks Steveâs shirt up. The white bandage thatâs obviously old is soaked with blood and plasma.
âIâve got him,â Joyce cuts in. Steve leans closer to her, the mom he never had.Â
Theyâre not close, but theyâve both helped save the world, heâs picked her kid up on numerous occasions, and theyâve made some small take. Right now, his brain is screaming âMom! Mom! Mom!â, and the woman must be able to tell. Heâs led to the small bathroom on the side, door closing behind them.Â
âWhat happened honey?âÂ
âB-Bats, the ones that got Eddie too,â his voice trembles as she sits him down on the toilet lid. Heâs so god damn tired.Â
âIâm going to take this bandage off okay? Can you take your shirt off?âÂ
The noise he makes when the fabric scrapes across his back is almost inhuman. Blinking back tears, arms feeling like jello, he looks up at Joyce once heâs done.Â
âOkay, itâs going to be okay,â she assures, her voice calm. If only his real mom was this kind.Â
The petite brunette moves around and sucks in a breath as she looks at his back, making him shift slightly. Itâs got to be bad. Rummaging around the cabinets, she finds what sheâs looking for, a large box full of medical supplies.
âI put this in here last year, thank god itâs still here,â she says, talking just to talk. âIâm going to have to wipe everything down, and itâs going to hurt, Iâm so sorry Steve.âÂ
âI-Itâs okay,â he nods, fever burning his cheeks.Â
By the time they finish, tear tracks are on his face, his nose is stuffy, and his eyes burn. Still nauseous, he ends up getting sick in the plastic trash can sat beside the sink, gagging loudly. Joyce runs a hand through his hair and then a cool, wet cloth is wiped over his face.Â
âThereâs a bedroom that used to be Elâs here, letâs get you laying down.Â
He doesnât argue. Frankly, Steve wants to lay down, wants to sleep. As they walk out of the bathroom, his wounds newly bandaged and shirt still off, he tries to ignore everyoneâs gazes and the words that start getting murmured. He hears Robin say something about rabies, and Dustin let out a string of cuss words.Â
After being shoved and downing two Tylenol and a glass of water, he lays down. A dip in the bed makes the man open his eyes. Heâs not sure who heâs expecting, maybe Robin or Nancy, but certainly not Eleven.Â
âYou are hurt, and sick.âÂ
âYeah,â Steve gives her a half smile, wishing he could reassure her.Â
âI canâŚmake some of it go away, I think.âÂ
He canât help making a frown. Eleven has super powers. Sheâs strong when she wants to be, can make things explode, move things with her mind. But healing? Is it new? Has she always had it?Â
âYou donât have t-âÂ
âIt is okay, Steve. You do a lot for people, and now I want to do something for you.âÂ
Tears burn in his eyes and he nods wordlessly.Â
She puts a hand on his shoulder, careful not to touch any bandages.Â
âYour skin is hot.âÂ
âItâs called a fever. Happens when youâre sick.âÂ
Eleven closes her eyes and stays still. Silence fills the room. Moments later, the intense, jagged pain ebbs. Itâs still awful, but it no longer feels as if knives are cutting him open. He cracks an eye, seeing Elevenâs face twisted in pain.Â
âWoah! Woah, hey kid, donâtâŚdonât put pain on yourself. Iâm okay, youâve done enough,â Steve shifts backward.
âBut I-âÂ
âItâs okay. I already donât feel as badâŚthank you. Iâll get better. You should rest too. You need your strength.âÂ
Once sheâs gone, another figure slips in. Robin.Â
âIf you have rabies, I get rights to hold it over your head for the rest of your life,â she mumbles grumpily, crawling onto the bed. Steve snorts, rubbing his face.Â
âDonât have rabies.âÂ
âMaybe youâll turn into a vampire.âÂ
âNot funny.âÂ
âYou could get supersonic hearing! You could fly!âÂ
âRobinâŚI love you but Iâm going to fall asleep okay?âÂ
âYeah okayâŚlove you too dingus.âÂ
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