"Papi, I brought you some more cough drops, I have to work a little overtime tonight so I'll be late coming upstairs," V/al leans over V/ox's shoulder and squints at the crude doodles on his digital sketchpad, "What's this?"
V/ox coughs harshly, rubbing his chest and unwrapping a blackberry mint cough drop to slip onto his tongue, "Ehh, I forget, I think I had an idea and then I got this weird chill...think I dozed off."
V/al squints harder, adjusting his glasses and reading the line 'Becoming CEO again: Step 1- R', only to smirk as the letter R trails off to the bottom of the canvas, likely where V/ox lost focus and began to fall asleep. Brilliant.
"It looks like you did doze off, amor... Such a detailed plan, you're stressing yourself out, no wonder you can't shake this cold," V/al coos, kissing V/ox's warm forehead before checking him for a fever with the back of his hand, "Tienes fiebre, you stay right here and rest. Forget the overtime, I'll be right up when I'm done working."
V/ox muffles another fit of coughs behind clenched teeth, still bracing his chest with one hand. While he's distracted, V/al quietly wipes the digital canvas clean.
"You're wheezing a little, Babe... How about you take a nice hot shower and let the steam open you up? I have to go, but you get comfortable...draw something pretty for me and text me what you want for dinner," V/al insists, tilting V/ox's head up to face him, "Pobrecito, you're so cute... If you were like this forever I wouldn't mind... I like taking care of you."
V/ox lets out a hoarse whine as V/al presses a kiss to his sensitive throat, "I don't- He-eght-hrmm- scuse me... I don't mind it, but I don't understand when I got so...weak."
"You're just tired, your body's forcing you to rest...you'll be back on your feet in no time, papi...I really gotta go, but I'll be back~" V/al says, giving him another kiss goodbye and shutting the door behind him.
V/ox's brain pops and fizzles trying to remember his plan...but he sighs, letting out a dense sniffle and settling into his blankets, turning on a favorite show of his and doodling his beloved shark.
"I'll be waiting," he replies with a yawn and a cozy smile, his frustration and his plan quickly forgotten.
The other two Ve/es come up with a plan where every time V/ox starts yapping about Al/as/tor, or some big megalomaniac master plan, etc etc, they just both let his words go in one ear and out the other and treat him like he's getting sick, fussing over him and effectively distracting him, because CLEARLY these outbursts are a cry for attention, so fine, they'll give him attention.
V/ox starts getting so puzzled by these reactions, of him being tenderly checked for a fever, changed into his pajamas, given a hot drink, "medicine" (usually just colored water or candy syrup), and tucked up on the sofa in the penthouse for a couple of days, effectively ordered not to get up, that something in his system changes...
After a few months of this routine, suddenly when V/ox has thoughts of a new incredible master plan to elevate him to the top, when his mind races and fills with rage at memories of being scorned by Al/as/tor, his system glitches and without fail, suddenly he does feel feverish, his rocket-hot screen accompanied by chills and aches.
Suddenly his mind is spinning and he feels dizzy and does need to lie down where his business partners family can keep an eye on him. Suddenly his raving words about power and influence die in his throat as his voice grows hoarse and scratchy, turning into a dry, hacking cough. Suddenly the previously tearful and angry sniffs are bleary sniffles trying to keep real congestion out of his ventilation system.
Suddenly his confused and reluctant acceptance of his banishment to the sofa becomes a weak nod as he pulls the blankets up over his chest, "Y-yeah...I guess so...thanks, I dunno how I came down with this so fast...snff!"
The conditioning works, and now whenever his mind races and chases the mental poison because V/ox feels lonely and antsy and desperate, his brain responds accordingly by making him ill enough to get the shower of attention his wounded and needy soul craves. And after a week of being fussed over, sometimes a bit longer, V/ox would come out of it good as new, maybe even a little better.
Waking up with a cold on a chilly drizzly autumn morning, sniffling hopelessly in the damp air as you wiggle to pop your head out of your nest of blankets, staring through bleary eyes at the overcast sky out your window.
You climb out of bed, wincing at your achy and heavy limbs, and swallow against a sore and scratchy throat, gently rubbing your neck with your fingers.
You trudge downstairs in your pajamas and slippers to make yourself a cup of lemon and ginger tea with a generous spoonful of honey. You shiver internally at the idea of stepping out into the chill and wet to grab the newspaper, and instead, with a dense sniffle, you turn to trudge back upstairs.
Setting your tea on the nightstand and pulling back the comforter, you grab the book you were reading the previous night and burrow back into bed, pulling the covers up to your chest.
'Ahhh...' you sigh internally, smiling that thoughts weren't taxing on your throat, 'This is nice. Nice and warm, no one to answer to, noplace to be, nothing to do...nothing could ruin this moment.'
A sniffle, your nose twitches, and you gently lower your book and reach out for a tissue with desperate fingers.
I'm calling this an AU at this point but weak and sickly V/ox gets under Al's skin the way Al used to get under his, because deep down he wants to be able to drop the persona, to belong, to be cared for without opening himself up for attack.
And here his pathetic egomaniac ex-friend is: unbothered, detached from the action, weaker than ever, and he seems unashamed of it.
Instead of damaging his connections and tying himself in knots to impress Al/as/tor, he waves it all away, practically flaunting that his two colleagues are his "friends" his "family", almost caretakers. Instead of being fodder to take beatings on his behalf they're worried faces offering him comfort after every wavering step or pathetic coughing fit, sweeping him away and out of Al/as/tor's reach.
Al can't see the flame of insecurity and egomania flickering in V/ox's tired eyes anymore. He seems truly content, even behind the thin haze of the mental conditioning that seems to have well and truly rooted itself in him.
"Don't you feel pathetic? Miserable?! Bored?! Don't you want to prove that you still have what it takes?! What's gotten into you?!" He asks one day, yanking at his scalp in anxious frustration.
V/ox turns to cover a wheezy cough with a fist, blowing his "nose" into a tissue and settling under his blanket, only giving his former rival a drowsy look.
"I don't."
"Wh-what?"
"I don't feel pathetic, I don't feel bored, and...I don't have what it takes. Not anymore... Hh-d'tssshuu! ...I don't know what happened, but all that power, all that strength, is gone. I'm either sick or on the verge of getting sick all the time now, I'm happy to stay here with what little influence I have left, help things behind the scenes... I'm just happy I have V/al and V/el to look after me,"
Al/as/tor stares into V/ox's eyes, trying to dig and search for the power hungry manchild buried under the glassy barrier of fever and learned helplessness, but he's nowhere to be found.
"They broke you... I don't care how long it takes, I will fix you," he whispers through clenched teeth before disappearing into the shadows, unaware that V/ox was closer to healed and fixed than he had ever been...but a sturdy and supported bridge was less fun to knock down.
Ba/xt/er: [Resting his head on the bar counter while Hu/sk slips a bit of whiskey into his tea] Mmbb...sNRkk-snff!... Uch...I hate this tibe of year, ndo mbatter what I do I always e...E-eihh...Ih'kxxtchu! Iih'KxXsschuww!...end up with a cold..snFf..
Hu/sk: Well can you hate someplace else? If you're not goin' back downstairs at least go sit by the fireplace so I can scrub your germs off my counter.
Ni/ff/ty: [Coming in to vacuum the carpet] Hi Hu/sk...Ih'psschu! Ihh'pPschu!...'scuse mbe...
Hu/sk: Didn't Va/ggi tell you to keep your mouth off of him until he wasn't contagious anymore?
Ni/ff/ty: She didn't say a'dything about hib putti'g his od mbe! SnFff! Hehehe... Ihh'PsSChu! 'Scuse mbe...
Hu/sk: Finish your work and then come back up here so at least you two fuckers are contained...and just like I had to tell your little boyfriend, blow your nose!
Bax/ter and Pen/tious in their Lab Partners era, and one of them gets sick. The other catches it shortly after, and they're both all cute and grumpy about it the whole time.
~ Effy
Y esss I wanna do a blurb so I'm putting it under the cut
"The things I put up with to save money on renting this flat..." Baxter grumbled as he changed out his microscope slides, raising up to whip his head around at his definitely-not-close-friend with zero benefits whatsoever, "must you keep up that incessant racket?!"
"H-hahh...H-hhh!...Hah'KtSsssHhhiew! Ah'tsSsshhiew! 'TssShhew!" Sir Pentious dabbed at his dripping nostrils with his damp handkerchief, curled up in his reclining chair near a heating vent, a blanket draped over his shoulders, "I'b sssorry, I just- Hhh'TsSHIEW!- ndeeded to sssneeze...mmbb...this iss a particularly sndeezy one- SnFff!"
"Must be a rhinovirus then...those tend to stay rooted firmer in the nasopharynx than some of the other cold-causing bugs in the rotation," Baxter rambled passively in response, squinting through the lens of his microscope, "Gesundheit, by the way, though with how often you-"
"Ha-Ah'tSsHHIEW!"
"-sneeze... blessing you is a fool's errand," Baxter huffed, writing down his notes about the activity captured on his slide, "The embryo is developing nicely, it'll be ready to move into the incubator soon enough."
"That'sss ndice," Pentious replied, shuffling a bit in his chair, "I mbight lie down on the floor...I wish we had a bed.."
"There wasn't enough room for all of our equipment, storage, AND each of us to have a bed, we'd only have room for one, and I am not sharing a bed with you," Baxter replied, giving his foot a spirited stomp as he got down from his stool, "We make do with the chairs and the floor just fine."
"I ssuppose," Pentious said, reclining his chair a bit so his back had more space to stretch out, "Hh...H-hhahh...Ha-"
"Ih'kKXxTsSCHU!"
Pentious hissed, folding his arms in frustration as he glared at his partner from across the room, "You ssstole mby sndeeze!"
"You gave me your cold!" Baxter snarled, balling his fists as he experimentally swallowed, his lure glowing as he angrily acknowledged the familiar scratchiness in the very back of his throat, where it connected to his sinuses, "snff!...Snff-SnFF!...You miserable germy bastard."
"I didn't mean to, you cannot possibly be quarreling with me over thisss," Pentious argued, turning to face the wall so he could blow his nose, setting the damp handkerchief in a basket on the floor and rummaging around in his wardrobe- which was right behind him- for a new one.
"I'm not, I'm just..." Baxter balled his fists again, gently tugging on his lure, rifling through a card catalogue of emotions and their descriptions, trying to match them to the odd feeling in his mind, "Frustrated...I don't like being ill, I don't like not being able to work because I'll contaminate all my specimens...at least with your work, you don't have to worry about smearing viral load on your gears and cranks."
Pentious rolled his eyes, "I am going to prete'd I didn't hear that lasst part," he said, slowly getting out of his chair, "Well...if both of usss are ressting, we could mbake a mattress on the floor."
Baxter sighed, scoffing at his labmate's suggestion as he grabbed his endoscope and a tongue depressor, "Nonsense...Ih'KXxtTSCHUU! Hh'KXxxschuu!" he said, hopping back onto his stool and plugging the endoscope into his laptop so he could see the camera feed on the screen, "I just got my stipend from the cloning study, and we've already handled all of our bills, you and I will just have to bundle up and get a room at that inn uptown until we're over this accursed virus."
"What happened to ndot wanting to ssshare a bed with mbe?" Pentious asked with a teasing smirk and a raised eyebrow, briefly sniffling, fanning a hand in front of his face, "Oh- hhh-Hhh! Hih-Ah'TsShhiew! Ah'tSsHHIEW!"
"Shut up," Baxter grumbled in response, swallowing out of habit and resisting the urge to clear his throat, "I pay for our lodging, you pay to have the flat sanitized while we're gone...deal?"
"Sssounds fair to mbe," Pentious said with a soft smile, grabbing his trunk and packing a few sets of warm bedclothes and as many handkerchiefs as he could justify taking.
Baxter opened his mouth, peering at his throat with the endoscope and taking notes while mumbling around the camera, sketching a crude diagram of an upper respiratory tract, "Increased mucus production, swelling...drainage on left side...inflammation and redness here...here...and here..." he muttered to himself before putting his tools back and beginning to pack his own things.
Suddenly, both men paused in the middle of packing, Baxter sniffling and wrinkling his "nose" and Pentious dramatically fanning in front of his face, his eyes watering.
"Hh-Hhh! Hahh-"
"Nnghh...sNFF! Snff-Snff!..."
"Hh-Hahh- Ahh-"
"IH'KXxTSCHUWW! Haha!"
"Ah'TSsshiew!"
Baxter and Pentious looked at one another with rheumy eyes, both realizing their noses were running, and glared briefly at one another in embarrassment before Pentious dabbed at his nostrils with his handkerchief and Baxter half-stomped across the room to pluck a tissue out of the box on his desk.
"Hmph..." they huffed to themselves, blushing in quiet fondness as they went back to packing.
A and B are on a romantic date of sorts, window shopping in a beautifully arranged plaza with an ornate fountain at the center, a light dusting of powdery snow gently falls from the sky and a sharp chill runs through the air, threatening to nip at the skin underneath thinner jackets and looser-knit scarves.
B is carrying a cluster of shoeboxes and shopping bags, almost unable to see around them as they navigate the cobblestone walkway, humming along with the soft tunes being played by the overhead loudspeakers.
Throughout their excursion, B can't help but notice that A seems a bit out of sorts, occasionally looking off and rubbing their upper arms, blowing out a puff of steam into the frigid air, or swiping at their face with a gloved hand to camouflage a sniffle.
"You cold?" B asks, knowing that A gets chilled easily, and not wanting to soldier on if their partner is uncomfortable.
A swallows against an annoyingly dry, prickly throat, and replies "N-no, I'm fine, just a bit winded from all this walking... and slightly thirsty."
"Well, my arms are getting tired, maybe we could finish off this outing with some hot chocolate before we head home?" B offers, silently offering a discreet ticket out of more shopping to A, crossing their fingers that they take it.
"That sounds delightfuull- Oh dear- shit!" A yelps, tripping- either on thin air, a stray stone, or the leg of a meddlesome teenager on their path- and stumbling four paces backwards before landing flat on their back in the ice cold water fountain, soaking themselves from head to thighs.
"Oh my god, A, are you okay?!" B panics, quickly dropping their shopping on safe and level ground before rushing to pull A out of the fountain, noticing their chattering teeth, half-lidded teary eyes and streaming nostrils.
"I-I-I'm soaked through," A mumbles, sniffling wetly and wiping at their wet face with a soaked, ice-cold glove, ignoring the patches of frost beginning to form on their clothes as the frigid wind freezes the water on their pants, jacket, and scarf... even freezing wet patches in their hair, "M-maybe we can s-still get hot ch-chocolate? Hhih'TsCHEW! Hh'PtSsCHEW!"
"Are you crazy?! We can make hot chocolate any time, we need to get you home for a hot bath and some medicine for that cold," B insists, gathering the shopping back in their arms and ushering A towards the exit.
"I-I don't have a...a-ahh...H-Haah....Ah'TsSchIEW! Aihh'PTsCHEW! sNfFF!- cold..." A says, blearily searching for a tissue only to give up and blow their runny nose on a waterlogged receipt.
"You do... and if not, you will by the time we get out of the car, now c'mon," B orders, sweet but firm as they nudge A out of the plaza with their head, fighting their urge to abandon their purchased goods so they can carry A to the car in their arms.
Character A relies on their sense of smell heavily, it's their greatest asset, and with a brief twitch of their nostrils, they can identify and locate a target within seconds, and their brute strength does the rest.
B, an enemy, is prowling around their home, looking for something under the cover of darkness, silently sifting through drawers and cupboards, when they hear footsteps and freeze in their tracks, holding their breath.
The floorboards creak, and if B squints against the heavy shadows they can see a surly look on the A's face as their nose twitches. They shrink in on themselves and feel their heart plummeting into their stomach, certain that they're done for-
"SnFF! Sndff-sNrFF!...SnRrk!"
The squeaking of packed sinuses and the squelching sound of shifting mucus as A drags the back of their hand under their drippy nostrils, sighing heavily before breathing noisily through their mouth.
"Cad't smbell a thi'g... stupid cold,"
A trudges through the dark room and absentmindedly grasps around- nearly brushing up against B's foot- for a box of tissues, plucking out a handful and blowing out a heavy load of congestion. They toss the soggy pile of used tissues into a nearby trash can and trudge back upstairs, covering a rumbling productive cough with a loose fist.
B smiles and sighs with relief at avoiding being caught, going back to sifting through A's things with their bare hands. They stow various items in their bag, blissfully unaware of the amount of times A had come into that room to unleash a volley of uncovered sneezes earlier in the day, germs lingering on virtually every surface from wall to wall.
B stows away back into the night with a bag full of sought-after goods...and a lifetime supply's worth of cold germs that quickly set to work brewing a telltale tickle in B's throat for when they wake up the next morning.
