Aragon & Parr fluff, maybe one of them gets sick or period pains or just difficult emotions and the other takes care of them?
I am always down to write Aragon & Parr anything!!! Here you go!
-
The thing about Thursdays, is that most of the queens love them.
Kitty always pulls Anna into her room with marshmallows and a movie on the third Thursday of every month. (No one is sure why it’s that particular day. And according to the two’s refusal to elaborate, no one will ever know.) Anne and Jane just objectively like the way the day sounds verbally. (Also, when asked they will say it is totally not because they hate the way Wednesday is spelled.) Cathy usually has her show day off on Thursday, so she usually spends it reading a book or throwing herself into whatever she’s been waiting to have time to research. Catalina has no particular inclination towards the day, but her family loves it, so she’d usually say it’s a fine day.
Yes, Thursday’s have been a particular joy for the queens as a whole. Until today that is, because Catalina has just decided that Thursday is the day that God himself must have forsaken. Thursday is now the devils day, and no, she will not take constructive criticism on this. Another sharp pain radiates through her uterus as if to solidify the demonization of this particular day of the week.
‘It couldn’t have been a Wednesday? Everyone hates Wednesday!’
Truthfully Catalina’s periods are usually pretty painful; it has nothing to do with the day of the week. But hatred is a way to be able to have any clear thought through the cloud of pain, so fuck Thursday.
Usually she’d call for someone to get her some pain meds and her heat pad. But everyone is off to the theater today. She had to call out of the show today due to the pain to come. As soon as she saw the blood she knew it was going to be a bad day, she’d already had a minor headache coming on.
She attempts to move, maybe she can get her medicine herself, but the slightest movement only made it worse for her.
“Here, Madrina.”
Catalina looks up through her fogged up vision and sees her goddaughter standing there with water and two pills. She tries to sit up, she really does, but the pain is draining all of her energy. Cathy has to put the items aside to help her move around the bed.
She holds the pills out to Catalina, and then helps her drink from the glass. Normally Catalina would be super mortified to rely on anyone this much. But she can hardly spare that a thought with the pain shooting through her body. Her back hurts! Why does her back hurt? Ridiculous.
Cathy looks at her, likely trying to gage what is needed from her. Catalina meets her eyes and beckons her closer. The woman takes a seat at the edge of the bed, facing Catalina and ready for request.
It takes a hell of a lot of energy, but it’s totally worth it. She grabs Cathy’s hand tightly as another pulse of pain goes through her body and she whispers with purpose.
“Thursday’s suck, Cath.”
Cathy snorts, reciprocating Catalina’s hand holding.
“This particular Thursday, maybe. Don’t let Anne hear you say that.”
Catalina curls back up in bed the way she was before sitting up. To Cathy the contortion might look uncomfortable, but a woman’s gotta do what she’s gotta do when she’s in pain.
“I can already hear it. ‘Better than Wednesday, it is. Have you ever written Wednesday? It makes no sense. At least Thursday makes sense!’”
Cathy laughs once again, this time at the mockery coming from her godmother. She even went as far as to imitate the diction of Anne’s accent. The dedication to the bit is astounding, considering she’s contorted like an acrobat in an attempt for pain relief.
Catalina huffs a small laugh of her own. Although it’s soon taken over by a whimper.
“I’m gonna go and get your heating pad, alright?”
She hardly waits for a response before leaving. Catalina takes the time alone to try and think. She doesn’t want to hold Cathy back today. The woman usually spends the day alone in her room, relishing in her only time to be in solitude. But how to get her to go and do what she wants to do? Cathy would never willingly leave Catalina like this.
Her goddaughter comes back in with a familiar small fuzzy pad with an attached remote to adjust the heat emanating from it. She immediately starts to fuss over getting Catalina up so she can place it under her. Instead of letting Cathy assist her, she lifts her body herself despite the protests coming from her body. After that, she takes another sip from the glass of water for the pills.
Immediately after this show of independence she feels incredibly nauseous.
Thankfully Cathy saw the rising bile coming. She lunges for the trash bin by her desk, and gets it to Catalina before she can make a mess of her blankets. If she’d thrown up on her bed she'd just throw away all of the blankets and sheets. And she doesn't have any replacements, so that’d suck. Because Catalina is in no shape to leave to buy more.
Cathy offers a look of sympathy when Catalina is finished puking and looks up at her miserably. Her nose scrunches at the stench, but she doesn’t dare move to get the bin away. No, no more moving for her.
When Cathy takes it away, (Placing it close enough to grab if again needed.) Catalina lays back down slowly. The heat underneath her is calling to her, and it soothes her cramps and back a bit upon direct contact.
“Y’can go if you want.” She murmurs, eyes closing. She’s not by any stretch better, but she’s more comfortable now.
“Lina, I’m not going to leave you.”
She sounds incredulous. As if the mere suggestion was the strangest thing to hear.
“M’fine.”
“You are not.”
“Go and,” she waves a hand in generality to signify that she could do whatever she wants. “Go read a book or something. Whatever you usually do on your day off. Don’t let me stop you.”
There’s silence for a bit. It’s long enough that Catalina actually starts to doze off. But then Cathy stands and she’s suddenly aware again.
“Gimme a sec.” She says, briskly walking into the hall.
Then she comes back. So fast that Catalina couldn’t even process the absence. Cathy sits on Catalina’s bed against the headboard and pulls her godmother into her, arms wrapped around her in a gentle manner. She holds up a book.
“This is what I was planning on reading today. I can do that here.”
Catalina would normally protest at being held, she's not a child after all. But she’s so comfortable, and warm, and the medicine is kicking in so now she’s kind of drowsy.
And then Cathy starts reading her book out loud, and that’s the last thing Catalina hears before falling asleep.