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I wanna some Yubin Niiku sickfic pls

David Warren & The Butcher Oliver Warren

Coming right up!

TW: Sensitive topics

...

(3/6/2000)

"Oliver! Time to get ready for school!"

Oliver sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. David, his dad, was calling him, calling him so he could get ready for school. Usually, the 6 year old would've jumped out of bed immediately and gotten ready in a flash. But he seemed too tired...and hot. He was definitely not in good shape to go to school.

David kept calling, and Oliver just pulled the covers over himself so he wasn't visible to David. He didn't want his dad to see him like this, all sick and weak like a leaf in the rain. He grabbed onto a nearby pillow in his bed and clutched it to his chest. However, his stomach was starting to feel queasy, so he put the pillow on his stomach instead.

The door opened, revealing David, all dressed up in his uniform, as he had to go to work after he dropped Oliver off at school. Oliver couldn't see this as his eyes were shut tight and, of course, he was covered in that blanket.

"Oliver, you're gonna be late for school."

The child groaned in response, but he wished he hadn't as the blanket started to get pulled off him. He soon found himself face-to-face with David, a concerned look on the detective's face. He set the blanket down and sat on the bed, then put a hand on his son's forehead.

"You're staying home today."

Oliver wanted to cry. No, he wasn't unhappy that he couldn't go to school, but was unhappy that he was found like this. He wanted to curl up and make himself small so David would be fine with it. But he didn't.

"I'm sorry..."

Oliver sniffled a bit, wanting to cry until his eyes were empty of tears. But, being the kid who didn't want to look weak, he just nudged close to David.

"No need to apologize, kid. Just get some rest and I'll call your teacher to inform her that you're sick."

"But what about-"

"Yes. I'm even taking a day off so you can get better."

Oliver's heart practically skipped a beat. Here he was, all sick and tired, and his awesome father was here to stay and care for him. The boy got under the covers and brought his plushie, a stuffed bear, up to his chest. He started to cry, but not from sadness. He was just happy that his dad was here, by his side, and ready to care for him. He eventually cried himself to sleep.

...

(1/26/2017)

"I bet you wanted to kill people since you're a fuckin' maniac, huh?"

"Says the person who's in the same damn asylum as me. And I had a REASON to kill."

"Still, you shouldn't have killed people!"

"My girlfriend's killers DESERVE what they've done! They deserved the mutilation, the suffocation, the burning! They deserved to rot in hell! Not to mention the fucker I made a deal with...his little "reward" was all a big lie!"

"WHO CARES IF THEY KILLED SOMEONE?! IT HAPPENS A LOT!"

"IF THE FUCKING CAR CRASH NEVER HAPPENED, MY GIRLFRIEND WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!"

"IT'S JUST A DAMN GIRLFRIEND! THEY COME AND GO!"

"IF THE SAME CAR CRASH NEVER HAPPENED, MY FATHER WOULDN'T HAVE COMMITTED SUICIDE!"

...

Oliver hacked his lungs out. The intense yelling at that excuse of a human has left his throat sore. He felt stupid of himself to talk like that, as he was battling pneumonia thanks to the intense cold in this hellhole called asylum.

Why was he here? He had attempted to commit suicide by cutting, chopping, and ripping the skin of his arms with a knife, all while taking pills supposed to "help ease his mental pain," which did nothing at all but become addictive. He was found collapsed and was taken to the nearest hospital, but they soon found out how difficult he was so he was transported to an asylum instead.

He hated this place, but he knew he belonged. He coughs again.

*Stupid pneumonia...*

Suddenly, the metal door creaked open, and a nurse came into the room. Oliver glared at her.

"What do you want? I'm trying to suffer in peace."

She looked at him with a sympathetic look and placed a hand on his forehead.

"You're warm."

"I kno-"

A fit of coughing overtook him and he put a hand to his mouth. His throat started hurting more, despite it being beyond sore. He regretted even talking in a state like this.

"Sorry..."

He lays back down, already starting to feel a wave of heat wash over him. It was too much to bear. He wanted to cry, to sob, to break down. But he stayed calm, not wanting to do so until the nurse left. She didn't seem to leave though.

And then, the floodgates broke. Oliver was sobbing, mumbling about the deaths of both David and Emma and about how he hated being sick and stuck in the asylum for God knows when.

"I-It's just not fair!"

Well, that got a little too angsty, but it's Oliver Warren, so of course there will be angst.

(Not me being evil and torturing my favorite characters)

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