Scott would simultaneously be an angel as well as a helpless, floppy puppy. Like, you’re sick in bed and he’s sort of just anxiously hovering, hoping and waiting and watching for when you need something. He’s on the verge of making himself faint until you lift the covers and invite him in for cuddles.
He’s more than happy to comply: he’ll give you a few kisses, he doesn’t care how snotty you are or how gross you feel. He doesn’t even care if he gets sick (he won’t, I hc werewolves run extremely warm internal temps: handy if you run cold and want snuggles!), he just wants to be close and make you feel good.
Stiles would situate you on the couch, fluffed pillows and juice in easy reach, the Mandolorian playing—he’d been trying to get you to watch it for aaaages, and the minute you were prone and helpless? BAM he got that baby playing.
But he’d be researching your each and every symptom, to the point where you’d be asking him very nerdy Star Wars questions just to get him to pay attention to you, and he’d be too absorbed in WebMD to expound into extremely complicated minutia about the SW universe.
It isn’t until you slowly, slowly, slowly close the lid of his laptop (he only pulled back his fingers at the very last second), and hit him with the biggest, slightly watery puppy dog eyes that he paused.
Cue Stiles rubbing your feet and excitedly explaining the Mandolorian scene. for. scene. You fell asleep at some point, but he understood it was just because you were sick. When you woke up, you saw him awkwardly situated on the couch, jaw agape and deeply asleep. He’d simply refused to move on the slightest chance any movement woke you up. He wasn’t all that upset when you woke up him, though, and guided him back down with you to cuddle. He’d be sneezing a few days later, but he’d just laugh and tell you it was SO worth it.
Derek is the errands guy: you need juice? Chicken soup? Heated blankets? Bath salts? How about some flowers, you want some pretty flowers on your nightstand? He’d be just about to head out again when you tugged at his sleeve. “I want YOU.” You’d explain stuffily.
He’d blush, but a soft little smile would light up the mouth of that chiseled face of perfection.
He’d kiss the top of your head, but then pick you up easily.
“You need some sunshine.” He’d say simply, and get you comfortably situated on a lawn chair. He’d sit on one facing your, the two of your legs comfortably entangling in each other.
Derek always has to be doing something, he can’t simply just SIT. So he’d pull out some cards, or checkers, balancing the board between you on his knees. Of course, being sick is no excuse for him to go easy on you: though he might have let you win a few hands when strip poker came up…not that you were complaining.
Isaac takes a page from Scott’s book, and becomes an adorable, anxious puppy, but unlike Scott Isaac actually knows exactly what to do. Growing up, he took care of himself when he got sick. He’d have the couch completely tricked out: fresh sheets on the cushions, half a dozen pillows and your favorite blankets, saltines and ginger ale and jello on a nice little tray, your favorite movie loaded up…
You certainly didn’t LOOK sick when you gave him a brilliant smile.
You preferred him to the pillows, resting your head on his stomach. When you grew a little restless after a few hours, he noticed.
So instead of watching movies, he took up one his favorite books—one he always kept in his back pocket, Lord of the Rings. He slowly began the prologue, his voice rising and lowering in rhythm with the text. He’d run his fingers through your hair, gently soothing you until you felt calm, still, and grew sleepy. You barely felt the kiss on the top of your head as you were falling asleep, but you heard him reading even in your dreams.
Lydia would know you were sick before you did: she suggested you start taking it a little easier, she’d subtly be passing a bottle of juice to you during History class, just oh-so-conveniently be making some chicken soup that evening. When you started to pick up on her little habits, you might question her—of course you’d just get that cute, dimpling little smirk, and then she’d distract you with some discourse over the latest Bachelor episodes.
Lydia would totally have gotten you over your cold before you even realized you had one: she’s a badass like that.
Of course, if you realize it after and confront her with it straight out, she’d admit you’d been looking under the weather.
It was lovely, having a girlfriend who noticed your littlest habits and things, so much to the point that she’d recognize it. All she’d ask for was a kiss…or two…or three. Now that you’re better, there’s nothing stopping you—right?
Allison is a firm believer of the ‘sweat it out’ method: you get a little sniffle, and she’s getting your running shoes out. Or it’s weights, maybe a swim if it’s summer.
She’d push you a little—Allison can be a liiiittle intense, and lives life like it. That might work: she’d be making sure you always had your favorite flavor of gatorade, your running socks are always clean, your sheets are always fresh because you’ve been sweating in your sleep.
If that doesn’t work, she will make sure you have the fluffiest pillows, your blankets are always freshly warm from the dryer, fridge stocked with juice. She’d be a little worried…a lot worried. Even if you’re taking a gentler approach to recovery, she’ll continue working out a little more vigorously than usual.
Not that that would mean she wasn’t taking excellent, excellent care of you. And she wouldn’t let something like a little bug come between cuddles and kisses. She could care less a she gently presses her lips to your forehead to check your temperature—and she’d smile as you guided her lower, to your mouth.
Malia is surprisingly calm (or so you think) about you being sick—though to be fair, you could do with a few less “in the wild” comments....
“In the wild, you’d probably be left for dead. Not by me, though. I wouldn’t eat you, either.”
You’d smile back weakly, and pat her hand.
Malia would smirk at you, maybe wink, and kiss your forehead before getting up to get you some more juice or crackers or whatever your little heart desires.
She’d keep an eye on you, and you’d be totally thinking she’s relaxed until someone else walks in the room....
Malia goes into full on PROTECT mode, growling and baring her teeth. You are the LOVE of her LIFE, and you’re not at full capacity: can you blame her? Just pull her down into bed with you and reassure her you’re fine with some major cuddles, it’s the only way to distract her.
