#whumperless whump event day 15: i'm going down (you're yelling timber)

[cuddlepilefics]

I’m going down (you’re yelling timber)

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Hyunjin

Caregivers: Stray Kids

Prompts: Passing out / Exhaustion / “I’ve got you, let’s sit down, I’ve got you.”

@whumperless-whump-event

No one’s POV.:

With the way their schedules had been filled to the very brink lately, Hyunjin was impressed how the group was still going strong. For some reason, the members didn’t seem any more tried than they’d usually be, while he himself felt close to crumbling. His whole body ached and a persistent headache was pulsing behind his temples. Had been for the past week if he was being honest. 3racha worked even more than him, which Hyunjin knew because he repeatedly returned to an empty dorm, yet they seemed not to be too affected by it. At least that way, Hyunjin could shower right away when he came home from his dance practice with Minho and Felix and didn’t need to wait his turn.

That shower turned out quite long because Hyunjin’s tense muscles finally relaxed when the hot water hit his shoulders. He barely found the energy to wash himself down, his arms suddenly feeling like cooked spaghetti, and it was obvious that he’d be out like a light the moment his head hit the pillow. A shudder ran down Hyunjin’s back, the hot water suddenly feeling cold to him, causing goosebumps to prick at his skin. He braced himself against the tiled wall as his ears started to ring. In a daze, he turned off the water and stumbled out of the shower, clumsily wrapping himself in his towel before plopping down on the closed toilet seat.

Holding his swimming head in his hands, Hyunjin took a few panting breaths and felt shaky all over. Maybe he shouldn’t have turned the water temperature up so high because now his circulation was wonky and he didn’t trust himself to stand and get ready for bed. Oh how badly he wanted to be in his bed right now. That would take a while though because Hyunjin only found the strength to get dressed after taking deep breaths for five minutes. He had to sit down again while he brushed his teeth.

A few sips of water might help with the lingering dizziness but the kitchen was in the opposite direction of his bedroom, so Hyunjin was torn. If 3racha had been home, he would’ve asked someone to fetch him a drink but that was out of question now. In the end, he decided to go to bed without a drink. His head pounded and he had to hold back tears as he crawled into bed, unsure how exactly he was going to make it through his schedule the next day.

Lucky for him, their schedule started at the studio the following morning and while his headache hadn’t improved, he wasn’t dizzy anymore. It was also nice to not be alone at the dorm anymore and he shot Jisung a tired smile when he plopped down next to him at the dining table, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. The rapper looked half asleep still, about as exhausted as Hyunjin felt and the dancer was relieved that he wasn’t the only one feeling drained. On the other hand, Jisung had only gotten home after Hyunjin had already gone to bed, yet he was up and running at the same time.

Watching the rapper eat made Hyunjin’s stomach turn and he glanced at his coffee in distaste. He had no appetite at all but if he wanted to take something for his headache, he should have at least a small breakfast. Too exhausted to prepare himself some proper food, Hyunjin grabbed some crackers and a small box of banana milk, slowly nibbling one of the crackers. It felt wrong in his mouth, taking all his willpower to swallow. Figuring it’d be easier to just wash it down with the banana milk, the dancer took a swig and startled when it triggered his gag reflex. Hyunjin covered his mouth in a panic, the drink eventually going down but not without choking him. Watching the older double over coughing, Jisung guessed his friend had aspirated, too sleepy to pay attention to eating, and reached over to pat the other on the back.

When Hyunjin finally managed to catch his breath, he thanked Jisung weakly but excused himself to his room, claiming he’d finish his food while getting ready. In truth, he sat on the edge of his bed, trashcan planted between his knees as he painfully slowly finished his crackers. They left his mouth and throat itchy because he hadn’t dared to drink anymore but that was soon to change. There was no way he’d be able to swallow his painkillers dry, not after the crackers had dried him out like this, so eyeing the banana milk in distaste, he hurriedly popped the pills into his mouth and downed his drink like a shot. Lurching forward with a closed-mouth gag, Hyunjin forced himself to breathe deeply and shuddered. Goosebumps had spread on his arms, while he broke into a sweat. His stomach still churned when he wiped his brow with a trembling hand, dumping the milk carton into the trash. The pills were down, so… mission accomplished.

He'd be lying if he claimed they were helping at all though. There was still that pressure in his head, making it hard to think clearly but at least, his stomach had calmed down. He was lucky that their dance practice was only scheduled for the late afternoon and he’d have a couple of hours to get his bearings. Maybe once he was more awake, he’d be able to stomach something more nutritious that’d give him the energy to keep going. Hyunjin probably shouldn't be happy that his friends were similarly tired but a small part of him way. With all of them lacking energy, it was relatively quiet and sitting with his fellow dancers, Hyunjin eventually dared lean his head on Minho’s shoulder. It still ached and his neck felt too sore to support its weight. To his surprise, the older neither pushed him away or teased him for it, merely continuing to go over his lyrics.

Sitting on Hyunjin’s other side, Felix’ hand snuck up his hyung’s back and gently kneaded the tense muscles in his neck. The melting tension caused him to slump further into Minho, which startled the second oldest but he was quick to adjust his position to properly support his dongsaeng’s side. “Are you okay?”, Minho asked quietly enough only for Hyunjin to hear. The younger nodded slightly, breathing: “Tired. Head hurts.” – “Painkillers?”, Minho offered, reaching up to run his fingers through his dongsaeng’s hair. “Took some”, Hyunjin mumbled but kept his eyes closed, “Not helping much though.” He drifted up soon after that, too out of it to witness the hushed conversation between his fellow dancers.

Felix kept massaging Hyunjin’s neck and shoulders while the older was asleep, hoping to release some of the tension to ease his pain. At some point, Chan had come over to feel the boy’s forehead but couldn’t detect a fever. Giving the leader s sad smile, Minho hummed: “It’s probably exhaustion. He’s been going all out during practice every single time.” Chan sighed, that truly sounded like something Hyunjin would do. “If he wakes up, let me know, please. I’ll have him warm up and record his lines right away, so he and go home and rest after that. You and Felix will be fine teaching us the choreo without him later, right?”, the leader confirmed, earning a relieved nod from Minho. The dancer couldn’t bear watching his dongsaeng destroy himself like that anymore.

As soon as Hyunjin sat up and reached for his water bottle, Minho informed him of what they had worked out with Chan. It should’ve already been red flag that the younger just thanked him and started to warm up despite his voice still being thick with sleep. The Hyunjin they knew would’ve put up a fight, insisting that he was fine to keep working and especially refusing to be sidelined during dance practice. It seemed he was truly more exhausted than he let on. He even swayed slightly when he had to get up from the couch because he was called into the recording booth. Laughing awkwardly, he slurred something about his legs having fallen asleep from sitting so long and shakily entered the recording booth to receive instructions which segment he should start with.

Hyunjin felt truly lucky that 3racha were so patient and understanding with him because nothing seemed to be going his way. Despite warming up, his voice still came out flat and with his tongue feeling heavy at the bottom of his mouth, he had frequent slip ups in his pronunciation. Everyone was understanding and tried to reassure him but Hyunjin couldn’t stop the tears from blurring his vision, making his voice sound even more choked. The stuffy air inside the recording booth certainly wasn’t helping and with his breath coming faster, it didn’t take long for the dancer to feel lightheaded. He lasted surprisingly long till the dizziness hit with the same intensity as it had the previous night. Sweat beaded on his forehead and it felt like all the air had been used up, no matter how much he breathed, it didn’t seem to be enough.

When his vision darkened, Hyunjin shakily reached for the lyric stand, clammy hand clutching cold metal. His ears rang too badly for him to hear Chan calling out to him over the speakers but goosebumps spread on his skin when a gust of wind hit his arm from Chan pushing through the door of the recording booth. Strong arms wrapped around his middle and Hyunjin let himself slump into the Aussie’s chest. “I’ve got you, let’s sit down, I’ve got you.” That promise seemed to be enough for Hyunjin’s fuzzy mind to let go of the last remnants of consciousness, his knees buckling while Chan guided him to the floor. Changbin was by their side in an instant, elevating his dongsaeng’s leg. Cursing himself for not having picked up on the signs, despite Hyunjin acting so out of character, Minho was up off the couch and with them in no time, the tiny recording booth getting cramped. He swiped the lyrics sheets off the stand, fanning Hyunjin’s pale face while feeling his pulse.

Hyunjin’s head thumped as he slowly came to, making him grimace. “Easy”, Chan shushed when the dancer tried to sit up. Changbin carefully laid the younger’s legs down and slipped out of the booth for one, to give them some space and two, to fetch his dongsaengs some water. Carding Hyunjin’s hair back, Chan hummed: “How’re you feeling?” The dancer drew a deep breath before mumbling: “Like putty. Really sore and dizzy putty though.” – “Not surprised your limbs feel sluggish and heavy”, Minho winced sympathetically, rubbing Hyunjin’s arm, “You’ve been demanding far too much of your body lately. Do you think you can stand if we help you? It’s really stuffy in here and I doubt that’s helping with the dizziness at all.”

Hoisting Hyunjin to his feet, the two eldest supported him to the couch and made him lay down there again. Felix took a seat next to him and comfortingly played with his hair while they tried to figure out their next course of action. Sending Hyunjin back to the dorm by himself was out of the question now but there also was no point of dragging him along to their schedule and make him try to rest on an uncomfortable couch in a dance practice room with music blasting from the speakers. None of them would be able to accompany him though because they’d have to learn a new choreography today and Minho and Felix were needed as their instructors.

“Hyun-e, we don’t have a good feeling sending you home alone. Not with what just happened. It’ll be too loud to rest in the practice room but you could stay here at the studio. The couch is all yours, we’d bring you lunch and collect you after practice”, Chan mused. The mention of food made Hyunjin’s stomach turn but he didn’t dare argue. Scratching the back of his neck, the leader hummed: “The second option would be manager-nim taking you back to the dorm and keeping you company while you eat. After that your not to leave your bed for anything other than using the bathroom. Safety precaution ‘cause we don’t want to come home to you passed out on the floor.” – “Option two, please, but I dunno if I can stomach anything, hyung”, Hyunjin muttered, resting his hand on his middle, “Don’t feel like eating.” – “The two of you can pick up something light, some soup maybe, on the way back”, Chan smiled, “I trust you to try your best and if you can only handle a couple of bites at a time, you’ll just try to snack throughout the rest of the day and have really small servings, okay?” The dancer nodded weakly, thanking Chan. He was glad that he could finally rest up.

[whumpbug]

whumperless whump event day 15: i'm going down (you're yelling timber) @whumperless-whump-event

passing out / exhaustion

see this post for character information!

caretaker: Archie

whumpee: Simon

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Simon, in fact, did not feel better when he woke up.

What started as a simple cold immediately made itself known as a raging fever and vicious chills. The only sleep Simon had gotten was the quick nap he took while stuck to Archie like a koala.

Now, it was 6:57 AM and there was no reprieve in sight.

His pajamas were completely sweat through. He felt disgusting. His head was pounding and he couldn’t stop shivering, and he absolutely couldn’t believe he was going to have to dress up in a stuffy suit and speak in front of a bunch of people in just a few short hours.

He groaned.

He debated calling Archie. He had gone home after Simon went to bed, but he also undoubtedly went on patrol for the better part of the night. He couldn’t wake him. He wasn’t even sure what he would have Archie do in the first place.

No, he just had to endure. He could sleep later. The banquet was only a few hours, and Simon was only required to be there for part of it. He could always make up some excuse to leave early, and no one would think anything of it. 

Right, that’s what he’d do. It’ll be fine.

He was suddenly startled by his alarm beeping loudly. 7:00.

Simon gritted his teeth, slammed the off button, and sat up, clutching the edge of the mattress when the change in position had him seeing stars. He let out a breathy groan and dragged his aching body to the bathroom.

He got ready in a daze. He brushed his teeth, took a quick shower (the warm water felt heavenly on his fevered skin, but he left feeling positively more dizzy than when he went in) and combed his hair all while feeling like he was underwater.

He gripped the edge of the sink and stared at himself in the mirror. Despite his efforts, he still looked like shit.

There were visible goosebumps scattered across his bare chest and arms. The shadows under his eyes were somehow deeper, and there were two maroon splotches high on his cheeks. He just hoped the banquet wouldn’t be too well lit.

He shut his eyes, silently cursing whoever thought a breakfast banquet was a good idea. What he would give to just have a few extra hours to lay down.

He was jolted a bit at the sound of a knock at his door. Archie.

He felt himself relax just a bit.

He pulled on a white undershirt, not caring enough to put on his dress pants yet, and opened the door to--

Simon blinked owlishly at Archie. He cleaned up nicely.

He was dressed in navy slacks and a well-fitting white button down with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His matching navy suit jacket was slung over his arm and his hair was pushed back in a neat quiff.

A blush that had nothing to do with the fever spread across Simon’s face.

“Oh Simon..” Archie frowned, reaching a hand up to rest on Simon’s cheek. “You’re burning up. You can’t possibly be thinking of going to the banquet now,” 

“I’m.. It’ll be fine. I’ll take ibuprofen. We’ll leave early, it’s only for a few hours.”

“But Simon.. you look exhausted.. I really really don’t think you should try to power through this one,” Archie pleaded, his hand coming to rest on Simon’s jaw.

Simon shook his head, but took a small moment to lean into Archie’s cool touch. God, how he wanted to just crawl into bed, nestled in Archie’s arms, and sleep the day away. But no. He had responsibilities. He’s pushed through worse.

“I’ll be fine. I’m gonna go finish getting ready, and we can leave.”

And with that, Simon turned and left, leaving no room for argument.

He finished pulling on his suit. It really was a nice suit, but the synthetic material felt horrendous against Simon’s fevered skin. It was a sleek black suit with a dark red button down. The jacket was itchy, and the shirt was slightly wrinkled, but Simon didn’t find it in him to care enough to smooth it.

Once he deemed his appearance acceptable, he took to rummaging through his medicine cabinet for some kind of relief. He popped a few ibuprofen and swallowed them dry.

When Simon returned to the living room, Archie was idly drumming his fingers on his leg, playing with the hem of one of Simon’s throw blankets. He immediately stood when Simon entered, closing the distance between the two.

“How are you feeling?” He cooed, adjusting the collar of Simon’s jacket.

“I’ll live.” He took this moment to lean forward and bury his overheated face into Archie's shoulder. He smelled of laundry and peaches. Simon reveled in it, just letting himself feel as crappy as he did for a few seconds.

Archie rubbed a hand up and down Simon’s spine, even as he pulled away.

“You ready to go?” He asked softly, smoothing back a stray strand of Simon’s inky black hair.

Simon simply nodded and headed out the door, dreading what was to come.

••••

The start of the banquet had gone, for all intents and purposes, decently well.

Simon was surprisingly good at keeping up appearances, despite how atrocious he had looked in the morning.

He smiled easily at everyone who came up to greet him. He shook their hands and made small talk and laughed at the right times, and to any outsider, he looked fine. Maybe a little pale, but fine.

Archie saw right through it.

He saw the way sweat was steadily dripping down the back of Simon’s neck. He saw the way Simon’s hands shook as he held his cup, and the way Simon’s blinks were becoming slower-- more drawn out.

Simon was feeling worse by the minute.

Archie helped how he could-- a gentle pat on the back, refilling his empty glass of water, interrupting conversations when they got too long. He was determined to help Simon see this through. 

When the main speaker of the event asked everyone to take their seats so the award ceremony could be underway, Archie was almost certain that Simon was going to make it through the entire event without incident. He took his seat beside his friend and gave his knee a gentle squeeze as if to say it’s almost over. Hang in there.

The first speaker seemed to drone on for eons, and it left Archie stifling yawns into his hand. Medical terms and procedure names flew over his head and he kind of stopped trying to keep up after a while. Instead, he took to fiddling with the hem of the fancy tablecloth and counting the tiles on the ceiling. 

It was sort of odd to be at such a high-end event. Growing up, the only award ceremonies he attended were the ones held in the school gym during elementary school. 

It filled him with a surge of pride that Simon was being recognized for his hard work. It was a shame he was too sick to enjoy it. He knew how much effort Simon put into his school work. The guy averaged 4 hours of sleep every night, if he was lucky. Archie knew he was partially to blame for that, but it didn’t stop him from appreciating how capable his friend was despite it.

The speaker finally finished her speech, and the crowd erupted in applause.

“Thank you very much! Now, please welcome the representative of our first place team, Simon Guevara! Please come up to the stand and explain how your research on pediatric oncology gained the attention of such well-known scientists across the board?” The woman called cheerfully.

Soft murmurs of anticipation filled the crowd. Archie’s heart skipped a beat.

And nothing happened.

“Ahem.. would Simon Guevara please approach the stage?”

Archie felt his heart sink. He turned to face his friend and-- oh. 

Uh oh.

Simon was out like a light, head pillowed in his arms. He was breathing evenly and slowly, and he looked somehow worse than he did before.

His hair was sweaty. His flush was even deeper. He looked utterly exhausted. And everyone was staring at him.

Archie felt his own face heat up at the situation. He shook Simon’s leg under the table, hoping his friend would wake up and behave like nothing happened, as he always did. 

Simon didn’t stir.

His entire group was staring daggers at him, equal measures anxious and furious.

“Simon,” Archie whispered, shaking his shoulder with a little more force this time.

Simon finally woke up, blinking blearily as he slowly lifted his head. 

“Wha..” He started, looking around groggily.

Archie stood up to block him from view the best he could. He was mentally kicking himself for not forcing Simon to stay home. He knew there was no way he’d be able to give the damn speech. He should have pushed harder.

“You're supposed to go up and talk now,” Archie murmured, wiping a little speck of drool from Simon’s cheek. “But I’m sure someone from your group can take your place.”

Archie shot a pointed glare at the others at the table, and then another at Simon.

Finally, one of the girls got the hint and stood.

“Um. It looks like Simon is a bit incapacitated at the moment. I’ll take over, if that’s alright.”

There was some whispering in the crowd, but it was quickly hushed when the girl went up to the microphone and began speaking.

Alright. Now to deal with Sleeping Beauty.

“Don’t feel good..” Simon groaned softly, scrubbing at his face with his fists.

Archie gently guided him up from the table and led him towards the door, keeping a steadying hand on his lower back.

“I know,” Archie whispered. “It's okay. I'm going to help you.”

Simon simply leaned into Archie, squinting at the sunlight as they left the building. Archie was starting to wish they had driven here. He didn’t want Simon to feel this miserable on a bus, but they really had no choice.

He half-dragged Simon all the way to a bus stop and sat beside him.

Simon gave a weak shiver and buried his face into Archie’s shoulder, whining lowly. Archie huffed a small laugh and wrapped an arm around Simon’s waist, drawing him closer and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“M’sorry.. for not listening to you..” Simon breathed, eyelids already drooping closed now that he was finally being held by Archie.

“Shh.. it’s okay. Let’s just get you home, okay?”

Simon nodded pathetically, letting himself finally drift off.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

[kaciart]

Day 15 I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.”

@whumperless-whump-event

-

Patreon | Ko-Fi

[teine-mallaichte]

Day 15 @whumperless-whump-event - I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.”

Characters - Asset 84 and Asset 83

Asset 84 masterlist

Complex 27 masterlist

The facilities assets stood in formation, posture rigid, eyes forward. The training yard was a stark expanse of concrete surrounded by high, razor-wire-topped fences, a constant reminder of their place. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and oil, the faint scent of disinfectant cutting through the more pungent odors. The distant hum of machinery underscored the harsh bark of the sargents commands, creating a symphony of control and obedience.

Asset 84s mantra echoed in their mind with each disciplined breath: "I am 84. I am a weapon. I will endure." The day's training had been particularly grueling, a series of combat drills designed to push each asset to their limits. 84 had only returned from a mission that morning, only just having time for the debrief and to shower before training had begun. The water from the shower still clung to their long dark hair, now plastered against their scalp and neck, the damp strands occasionally falling into their grey eyes.

As more commands echoed through the yard, 84 felt their vision blur, the world around them becoming a tunnel. The mantra tried to hold them together, but the edges of their consciousness frayed. “I am 84. I am a weapon. I will endure.” The phrase now felt more like a desperate plea than a statement of fact.

83 had been watching 84 from the corner of their eye. They noticed the slight tremors, the unfocused gaze. They had seen this before, in others, and in themselves. Training was brutal, and the facility pushed them to the brink, often past it.

As 84 began to fall, 83 moved without thinking. They caught 84 under the arms, supporting their weight. "Steady, 84," 83 whispered, their voice low and urgent. "Stay with me."

Moving out of formation like this was a risk, one that 83 was fairly certain would lead to punishment. They glanced up, noting that the sergeants were currently preoccupied at the far end of the line.

83 glanced at 85 and 82, seeking any sign of acknowledgment or support. Both assets remained immobile, faces blank, embodying the unyielding discipline drilled into them.

"84, focus," 83 urged, shaking the other asset slightly. "You need to get back into line."

84's eyes fluttered open, a faint flicker of awareness breaking through the fog of exhaustion. They struggled to focus on 83's face, the familiar blue eyes grounding them, however slightly, in the present.

"83?" 84 murmured. The mantra still echoed faintly in their mind, a distant drumbeat of survival.

83 tightened their grip, their eyes scanning the area. One of the sergeants was barking orders at on the assets in the group of 20s, but time was running out.

"Yes, it's me," 83 replied, a rare softness in their voice. "We need to sit down. Just for a moment. I've got you."

84's legs trembled as they tried to regain their footing, but their body refused to obey. The mantra had lost its power, and the edges of their vision darkened once more. 83 slowly lowered them both to the floor, crouching behind 84 and letting their semi-limp body lean against them. The rough texture of the concrete pressed into 83's knees, but they ignored it, focusing solely on

84's breaths were shallow and rapid, they felt the warmth of 83's body against their back, an unfamiliar but oddly comforting sensation. The firmness in 83's grip and the calm in their voice providing a strange reassurance.

"We will be in trouble for this," 84 muttered.

"I know," 83 whispered, eyes on the sergeants. They had broken formation, 83 had displayed humanity, and 84 weakness... Punishment was inevitable - likely solitary confinement or worse, especially for 84 who's handler has a reputation for being cruel.

One sergeant began to turn. 83 stood, pulling 84 up with them, snapping back into formation just in time. 84 swayed but remained upright, the mantra echoing weakly in their mind. The scent of sweat and oil seemed overpowering now, each breath a reminder of their struggle.

The sergeant's gaze swept over them, pausing briefly before moving on. Their moment of weakness had gone unnoticed, or at least unaddressed, for now.

84's heartbeat thundered in their ears, the world around them a blur of indistinct shapes and sounds. They felt the weight of 83's hand still subtly supporting them, a lifeline in a sea of chaos. The distant hum of machinery, the faint clanking of metal, and the muffled voices around them faded into the background as they focused on the steady presence of 83.

[brandileigh2003]

new chap update: I've got you

Remus and Sirius take a hike to see a waterfall, but of course, everything doesn't go to plan.

Day 15: I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.” @whumperless-whump-event

[soulless-angel25]

Whumperless Whump Event: Day 15 Prompt- I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.” @seth-whumps

Fandom: Purple Hyacinth Characters: Lauren Sinclair, Kieran White

AO3 Link!

Lauren's head is spinning and her vision is blurred, logically she knows why. She knows that this is her fourth day without sleep and her body is starting to yell at her to fucking go to sleep! But she can't. Not yet, not while everything is so uncertain.

Not while he's here and she doesn't know why! But with her distraction she finds herself running straight into the man occupying her thoughts. Kieran catches her before she can make her way to the floor.

"Oh? Falling for me again are you darling~?" one of his hands is wrapped around her waist as the other one holds the cart he'd been pushing steady.

She rolls her eyes at him, "Oh, please. You wish."

And that stupid grin of his spreads across his face as he leans closer, "Maybe I do, detective."

Before she can formulate a response to his words he's walking off but her center of gravity is off and she can't focus as her body falls.

[soapy-soartp]

Day 15 of @whumperless-whump-event (late entry! I HAVE WIFI AGAIN)

Day: 15 - I'M GOING DOWN (YOU'RE YELLING TIMBER)

Prompt: Pass out / Exhaustion / "I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you."

Fandom: Moriarty the patriot

Characters: Albert James Moriarty and Mycroft Holmes

Mycrofrt Holmes has had a frankly extremely exhausting day. Not only has he been awake for more than a few days, which cannot be healthy, but he had to sit in and manage an extremely frustrating meeting with the upper house.

Safe to say he is absolutely exhausted but he can’t rest yet. No right now he’ll need to straighten up and entertain some important people at the Queen’s quarterly ball.

His only saving grace may be that he wouldn’t be suffering there alone, most of Mi6’s members are going to be stationed at this ball as well. Primarily to ensure no foul play were to occur and ensure the safety of the royal family and their subsequent guests.

Just when the ball was about to begin, dark spots began dancing in the director’s vision and he began to feel oddly lightheaded. But he really couldn’t rest yet, he had guests to greet and it doesn’t feel right to just leave this to the newly expanded Mi6’s hands.

And so he stays and acts as if nothing is wrong. To be fair to him it does get him pretty far into the night, and he’d continue to do if not for Albert, his very own M, noticing something a miss with the dear director.

The ex-noble swoops in and supports him when he starts to sway. He feels himself get led off to a more secluded area of the ball as he tries to regain his barings.

“Oh my, Lord Holmes, I didn’t take you for someone who’d over indulged,” the green eyed man teases lightly as he holds out his arm to support Mycroft.

The darker haired man merely shakes his head, though that causes a dizzy spell so he stops immediately, gripping tighter to the other arm. He closes his eyes and wills himself to piece his act back together.

“You know better than to think that, Albert…” he replies weakly with a shaky, tired breath. Almost a sigh.

With that though the expression the brunette’s face changes to that of teasing covering up something deeper to just pure concern. He leads the director to one of the many drawing rooms available for the guest to use and has him sit down.

But when Albert goes to close the door for a bit more privacy he finds the dark haired man standing halfway to the door, when he likely shouldn't be. He’s proven right when Mycroft yet again sways on his feet and almost collapses to the ground. The only reason he didn't was the quick reaction of the ex-nobel.

Albert narrows his eyes at him as he supports the director's weight.

“Mycroft Holmes I’m well aware you know your limits better than most, so stop being so stubborn,” he scolds thoroughly, practically dragging the other to one of the sofas with some difficulty.

“Come on now, Mycky, I've got you. Let's sit down, I've got you."

The exhausted man hums as he sits and leans his head on Albert with a tired smile and a stifled yawn he responds with, “I know, Bertie, thank you.”

And that's when he finally allows himself some well deserved rest