Once again not like super sickfic heavy, but oh well
“Hi,” Max rasps, wincing as they walk into the kitchen and hear their voice for the first time this morning. They swallow uncomfortably, sharp pain deep in their throat.
“Wow, you sound awful Maxi,” says Jamie sympathetically. He frowns, walking over and plastering his hand against their forehead.
“Get off me,” they groan through a laugh, the pain in their throat sharpening, and Jamie hums in concern.
“You have a fever,” he declares, and Rowyn looks over from the table, frowning.
“They do?” he asks for confirmation, frown deepening when Jamie nods.
“Guys, I’m fi-” they start to reassure them but their voice cracks and gives out on the last word, gravelly voice giving way to wheezing silence.
“Oh sure, you’re fine,” Rowyn calls them out sarcastically, and Jamie muffles a small laugh in his hand, while Max soundlessly tries to protest.
When Max strains their voice, trying to push some sounds out to show their annoyance, Rowyn says, “Max, hey, cut it out. Just shut up, it’s okay.”
Their fingers flutter at their sides, useless in this group, and a groan rumbles low in their chest.
“I don’t think they can shut up anymore than they already have,” Jamie laughs, but a glance towards Max causes him to sober instantly.
“Max?” he says cautiously moving forward, but Max just glares at him, flapping a dismissive hand in his direction and leaving the room.
Jamie frowns after them, worried that his joke actually upset them.
Max settles at their desk, turning on their computer. They’re still frowning at their lack of a voice this morning, and feeling disproportionately upset.
Their computer opens to their work computer and they grimace, seeing their afternoon scheduled with a couple meetings. They open their messages with Leo, and explain the problem - they won’t actually be able to participate.
They move to one of their in-progress program planning documents and start reading through the details, occasionally making changes, and adding some things that they’d discussed with Leo yesterday.
When they remember to check for a message from Leo, they’re relieved to find a confirmation that Leo can handle those meetings. They chat a bit more, checking in on him as well, before returning to their work.
They finish the outline for the program, emailing the updated version to Leo, and feeling satisfied with their work.
They enter the kitchen, with the intention of making a cup of tea, hoping it would soothe their throat. Before they can even set the water to boil, Jamie finds them and starts talking to them, apologizing for before and asking how they’re feeling.
Without thinking about it, Max tries to answer, but their voice comes out like a strangled whisper, scratching against their throat, and Jamie winces in sympathy.
Jamie keeps talking, and frustration coils through Max. They love Jamie, but all they needed was some tea, not a well-meaning interrogation from their best friend, when they can’t actually answer how they’d like to.
They grow more annoyed as Jamie doesn’t seem to pick up on their frustration, and they bring their hands up to their chest, flashing through signs quickly and emphatically enough that Jamie seems to get the message even without understanding the words.
“Ohh,” it dawns on Jamie, “I’m so sorry Max, we don’t…” he trails off, unsure how to finish the sentence, since Max already knows they don’t understand ASL.
Max runs a hand through their hair, tugging at the roots for a minute, before brushing past him and going back to their room, abandoning the thought of tea.
With Max out of sight, Jamie deflates as he glances worriedly in the direction of Max’s room. Rowyn stands in the doorway, apparently having seen the interaction.
“They’re fine,” says Rowyn with an eyeroll, following his gaze, “They’ve just lost their voice.”
“Who lost their voice?” Colin asks through a yawn as he stumbles out of their room into the kitchen.
“Max, and it sucks, cause normally they would just sign, but we can’t understand them,” answers Jamie with a small frown directed at Rowyn, presumably to cut off any protests he might have had.
“Aw, poor Maxi. That’s such bad luck. Like, they have a way to communicate, and it can’t actually help them now.”
“Shit, I hadn’t thought of it like that,” says Rowyn, as he bites his lip, understanding dawning on his face.
Jamie tentatively knocks on Max’s door a little while later, forgetting that they can’t answer him, and he slowly pushes the door open, wincing at his own disregard of the “don’t come in when the door is closed” rule, hoping Max will forgive him for that too.
When he nudges the door far enough, he finds Max lying in their bed, staring at the ceiling, and frowning.
“Max?” he calls softly, but Max just turns away from him. He sighs, and pulls the door shut as he leaves, guilt and worry pooling his stomach.
Max also feels the weight of guilt pressing in on them, but not enough that they’re tempted to apologize to Jamie yet - they’re still too… frustrated, annoyed, feeling cooped up. They glance at their phone for the 19th time in the last 15 minutes, hoping either Leo or Ellie will text them back.
When their phone finally dings with a text, they snatch it up, rolling onto their stomach. Their eyes light up when they see it’s Ellie, and they quickly facetime their little sister.
When her face fills their screen, they grin, comforted by her easy smile and her familiar signing. They prop their phone against the pillow, sitting up on their elbows so they can sign back.
The relief at being able to communicate easily strikes Max hard, and they have a surge of admiration for Ellie, who must feel this way daily.
Ellie makes a sound, quickly drawing them out of their thoughts, and Ellie introduces one of her friends.
Having long caught up on each other’s lives, they let the silence wash over them as they sit in their rooms an hour apart working on their own tasks, and for the first time that day Max finds comfort in the silence.
