#heehehehee

[0nlyhere4phil]

phil speaking swedish

[silvercap]

for the ask game - 13 please? <3

<33

Spun the scenario spinner wheel a couple days ago and got Western AU and, well. Pneumonia, anyone?

13. "Can't---breathe---"

The fire burns low in the dusky evening light, the interior of the small cabin made shadowed and unfamiliar from where Chris sits at the table, nursing a glass of whiskey from the bottle he'd found on Leon's top shelf. The room is warm despite the autumn chill that's been creeping into the air as of late, finally brought up from the aching cold that had greeted Chris upon entering. In the bed, Leon shifts his head atop the pillow, the sweat on his skin shimmering like a mirage above the fever charring his insides. He murmurs something, long strands of hair flopping across the damp sheets and clinging to his cheek, brow twisted as if in pain. His chest hitches where it's been heaving in a too-shallow rhythm, lungs crackling in a way that makes Chris cringe.

It sounds like pneumonia, most likely. Leon works himself far too hard---it was only a matter of time before he caught something like this. Chris sips his whiskey, eyeing the pale, thin wrist peeking out from beneath Leon's nightshirt where it rests atop the blankets. The sight is all too familiar, memories of watching his mother succumb slowly to consumption panging something deep inside of him that he'd rather not remember. Luckily, Leon's coughing has conjured nothing more concerning than mucus and a few tears in his eyes, and his illness had come on too quickly to be wasting disease. Still. It's miraculous chance that Chris had happened to check in on Leon when he did.

Leon's face looks sallow in the half-light, eyes sunken where dark bags underline his long lower lashes, signs he hasn't been sleeping well again. Chris is sure his own face looks just as haggard, but he at least has Jill and Claire to bully him into taking care of himself---Leon's all alone out here, only his horse and rifle for company. Stubborn man.

In the bed, glassy eyes flicker open. A harsh coughing fit wracks Leon's body as he shifts weakly in place, head tilting in Chris's direction as he stands from his seat and paces across the room to stand at Leon's bedside. Leon coughs until his breaths are raspy, then seems to collapse back to the bed despite never having sat up in the first place. His eyes are half-lidded, exhaustion weighing every inch of his expression.

"Water?" he croaks, fingers trembling when he goes to push away the blanket. Chris stills him with a firm hand on his shoulder, reaching for the glass on the bedside table. Leon is a limp weight in his arms---and feverish enough now that Chris can feel the blaze of it through his clothes, he realizes with alarm---as he helps the sick man lift his upper body just enough to sip the water. It prompts another round of coughing, and Chris holds Leon even as his shoulders shake. After what feels like an eternity, he finally calms, blinking up at Chris like he's just noticed his presence. "Chris? You're..."

"You should rest," Chris rumbles, trying to keep his voice gentle. It works a little too well, his tone softer than Leon's down pillow even to his own ears, and Chris ignores the way the feathers seem to spill into his chest and flutter there. He reaches for the damp square of linen he'd been keeping in a basin of cool water, sponging it across Leon's forehead to offer him some relief. He sighs, eyelids flickering closed.

Chris almost thinks he's fallen asleep again, about to ease him back to the mattress---until Leon jerks violently, a scattering of coughs tearing up his throat. Chris winces. It gets worse for a moment that stretches on for far too long, Leon's hacking reaching a crescendo that has Chris lifting him a little higher upright----

Leon shudders and wheezes, the sudden silence prickling Chris's skin. Panicked eyes fly open and glue to Chris's face, Leon's hand clawing the fabric of his linen shirt as his lips part with a laboured gasp. His voice is ragged when he speaks, quiet and terrified: "C-can't---breathe---"

Chris's blood runs cold.

Leon manages another aborted cough before he squirms in Chris's hold, as if trying to get away. His chest bucks.

"You're going to be alright," Chris says, a rush of fear making him sweat. He sits Leon up further and begins to rub his back urgently with the flat of his hand, the dangers of Leon's sickness happening so far away from town suddenly looming up in the shadows. His heart pounds, images of Leon suffocating in his arms tearing through every emotional wall. He swallows tightly, clutching Leon's upper arm as he continues to soothe the spasming muscles in the other man's back as best as he can. He must be sore by now, exhausted but tense, and Chris is fearful that his strength is flagging. "C'mon Leon, don't give up on me now."

Leon's breaths are little more than sips of air, whatever's blocking his lungs making it difficult for him to inhale enough to generate another cough. Chris doesn't realize he's begun to rock them both until he's already pressed his forehead up against Leon's temple, still supporting him in a solid grip. He keeps up the smooth, hypnotic motion of his hand back and forth across Leon's spine, time stretching out until seconds feel like small eternities. "Breathe, Leon, just---"

Leon coughs weakly, followed by a victorious, fragile intake of air---and finally, another round of coughing. He's shaking all over by the time he's done, barely conscious and drenched in a fresh layer of sweat. God, Chris is going to need to fetch the doctor. It's unnecessary stress to try and transport Leon into town in this condition, but the thought of leaving Leon here alone for the half-hour he'll need to travel there and back---and that's an estimation based on whether or not he pushes his horse hard---prickles the fear still crawling in his veins.

"Chris," Leon whispers desperately, strained and hoarse. "Chris?"

"I'm here." Chris rubs his back in a circular motion, then shifts closer so that he can tuck Leon's upper body against his own. They've known each other for so long that it feels like Leon's body fits perfectly with his own, but Chris refuses to acknowledge the ache of longing that spills through him. Definitely not the time.

He shushes Leon gently and helps him lean his head back on Chris's shoulder, trying to make him relax. "I've got you," he promises. "Just rest, okay?"

[discodiscodemon]

happy birthday tom cardy!!! king of invading my train of thought everytime i need a moment of silence™️

[dreamingticklee]

pssssst guess what...i bet you'll NEVER guess...not in a MILLION YEARS...like truly it's gonna come as a shock...and it's gonna blow your mind...but.......i like being tickled 🙈

[cravity-z]

#hyeongjun: baby rights!

[vampire-valentines]

14 minutes into valentines day and im already sad about not having a valentine.

[saphizzle]

What started as a sleeping kiddo Aizawa turned into something weird and surrealistic and I honestly dunno what’s going on here bUT I KINDA LIKE IT

[niko-and-stryker]

He likes California poppies <3

[ah! thank you...]