Chapter Text
When Battat woke up the next day (pretty late, barely the morning now,) he had a brief internal panic that he was still in bed before remembering that he intentionally slept in. Which he's definitely not used to doing on purpose.
The events of yesterday replayed in his mind, and the feeling that sent him over the edge kept growing distant. Surely it wasn't that bad, right? Not as bad as he remembers. Not bad enough to stay home from work. It was Pluey and Jongler who misinterpreted the situation in the first place. They were the ones who wanted Battat home, not him.
While he was relieved to not feel as bad as before, the heaviness in his body noticeably weaker, it was almost invalidating at the same time. If he's not in a constant state of struggle, how can he tell that he's in enough pain to get help? How can anyone, if it's just going to vanish after sleeping?
Nobody would take this seriously. Nobody will care if he's only going halfway.
As the Pippins stirred awake, he was met with extra weight in the form of Pluey practically covering him like a blanket. Which was definitely not how things were the night before.
“...Uh-” As soon as the first syllable left his mouth, they shot up, smiling ear to ear. If they had their tail, it would surely be wagging. Battat chokes slightly when Pluey pushes their hands on his chest a little too hard, and they get off. Still only about an inch of space, though.
“...Morning.” He mumbles sleepily, turning to his side so he could run his fingers through Pluey's hair. “I assume Jongler's out?” They nod.
There was a part of him that just wanted to forget everything that happened. Act like he was a normal person, who didn't cause an entire scene and make his friends worry about him. Go to work and make up for Jongler and Pluey having to wait on him hand and foot. But there were two problems with that.
1. Pluey and Jongler certainly wouldn't let him take one foot out the door
2. He couldn't risk that happening again. He feels "okay" now, but if that changes, he'll cause another situation right when things begin to calm down. He'll disrupt the system further, scare them further. And be even more of a burden.
They've both been very patient with him so far. But he shouldn't push it. Doing this all over again would certainly frustrate them.
Not to mention, he still feels like shit. Just less so.
Pluey nuzzling into his chest snapped him out of his thoughts. They had a slight frown on their face
”(◞‸◟；)..?” they hum with low energy, and he sighs.
“Yeah, I'm alright, Pluey. Don't worry.” he reassures, though he knew that them worrying was pretty much inevitable. “I was always gonna be okay. This just happens to me sometimes.” They tilt their head, looking for more details, which was what he was dreading. But he knew the question had to come up eventually.
“I really don't know.” He answers, a little more tense than he wanted. “I don't remember when it started, but it's been a couple years at least. I just... Lose my energy, get nauseous and lightheaded, everything hurts, stuff like that. It goes away after a while though.” Pluey's frown deepens, getting up from the bed to grab a notepad and pen by the mirror. He expected to wait a while before they finished writing, but they held the notepad to him as soon as they were back in bed. The fact that they already had what they wanted to talk about written down made Battat swallow his building guilt.
“I was so worried about you. I've never been more scared in my life until yesterday, when I didn't know what happened to you. I don't want you to feel bad about that, it's not your fault, I'm just glad you're okay. But you need to get help, Battat. This isn't normal. You don't deserve to feel like this on a regular basis. Even if it goes away, even if it doesn't kill you, I'm scared that you're going to push yourself too far while in this state and do irreversible damage. Or worse. Especially when you don't say anything about it. And knowing what everything has been like for you recently, how sad you've been, just made me worry more.
I don't care how many breaks you need to take, or how many times you need us. I'd rather be stuck with you every single day then lose you forever. You and Jongler are very special to me. I just want to be there for you whenever I can, like you always have been there for me. I don't want you to suffer. Even if you don't believe it, or accept it.
I'm not mad at you. Neither of us are. This whole situation is just making me paranoid. I can't imagine how you must've felt, and I never want you to be in that position again. Thank you for letting me take you home. I'm here if you need anything at all. I love you.”
He lost count of how many times he read over every single line. It wasn't exactly surprising to hear all of these things coming from Pluey, they've been attached to his hip since the situation occurred (more than usual,) but to have it litterally spelled out to him in this moment was...a lot. Didn't help lessen the guilt, that's for certain.
He wasn't sure where to start, honestly. The terrible feeling inside of him that thought they were both being incredibly dramatic about it all was threatening to be verbalized, but even he knew while half-awake that it wasn't a good thing to say, much less to Pluey. They were being so vulnerable, so kind, the last thing he wants is to make them feel any worse. Even if he doesn't fully see the severity that they do.
Though, he does shiver a bit when he remembers that now Pluey and Jongler are aware of his weird mental state, the idea of Pluey connecting that to whatever was going on with him made him feel like the worst person to ever live.
“...I wouldn't do this to myself. Not on purpose.” he mumbles, now forcing himself to hand the notepad back to Pluey. “I wouldn't do that to you.”
They began writing again. Battat felt like he was being scolded, even though he really wasn't. There's something about Pluey being genuinely upset that makes him extremely uncomfortable, like an imbalance in the universe. He hated being the reason for it. Eventually, he gathered the strength to read their response. It was short and to the point.
“But you'll still let it happen at all? And deal with it by yourself? That's still bad. You're still hurting yourself by not acknowledging it.”
“That's different-” he curses himself for immediately getting defensive, laying his head against the headboard. “Trust me, if I knew how to fix it, I would. I don't like it. I just don't know what the hell to do about it.”
“Why don't you learn?”
He pauses, the question closing his mouth instinctively. He taps one of his thumbs against the other to distract himself.
He's never really thought about that. He's always said he's too busy, it's not severe enough, it goes away eventually, so it doesn't really matter. Or it's all his fault he feels this way, a prison of his own making, so why bother a professional with a bunch of health problems he can fix himself if he wasn't so stupid and irresponsible with his body?
There's a lot of reasons he never looked for answers, really. But one unique one comes to mind. One that sums up Battat as a whole.
“Because... I'm scared of knowing. I might not be ready to know what it is that's wrong with me. And, when I do, it'll change things. It'll just add on to the problems I have, how much effort I need to put in just to be normal, to live normal. Not knowing feels like...I dunno, I have control over it. Like it doesn't exist. That I'm a little less abnormal than I think. If I don't have the answer, I don't have to accept that about myself.”
Pluey simply nods, seemingly lost for words. They look at their notepad for a while, the hurt look they give made Battat sick to his stomach. Why does he have to be so weird and difficult about everything? Anyone else would've tried to get better by now. Maybe he just can't help but make himself miserable.
“...Sorry-” he adds without thinking, and before he can finish his thought, he's taken into the Shadowguy's arms. While he'd usually freak out over sudden contact like this, it did well at quieting his thoughts and grounding him once more. Though, he didn't really reciprocate.
“Jeez... I told you I'm fine, okay?” He's unable to mask the fondness in his tone as his voice strains. “You haven't gotten rid of me yet, at least.” They only hug him tighter after that. Just a little, though.
“If you guys really care that much...” He starts to add, and the other lets go at that point. “I guess I can look into it. Just... Not right now.”
For the first time in a while, Pluey smiled warmly, full of relief and gratitude, and it almost healed something inside the little Pippins. They began writing again.
“That's okay. We'll figure it out together, when you're ready. And whatever comes up, it's not gonna make me love you any less, or think of you differently. I just wanna help, okay?” He's almost fighting for his life not to smile or cry, at this point, pushing the notepad as far away from him as he can get.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You're such a damn sap sometimes. Both of you.” That got Pluey to laugh, and it was nice.
In typical “Battat is strangely vulnerable for once” fashion, the conversation ends before either of them have communicated all of their thoughts and feelings. But with the way things were going, Battat could guess everything Pluey was gonna tell him, anyway. Just more affirmations that he didn't really know what to do with, but still appreciated.
One thing he felt like he should say, but would instead take to his grave, was how afraid he really was in that moment. He didn't fear for his life, but for everything they have been working so hard for. His safe space as Mike, and with the others, could've fallen apart instantly because of him.
The feeling of him losing control, almost slipping into unconsciousness, was just as terrifying. Fighting to explain the situation, in the hopes that he could trust the others to step in for him, was probably the worst he's felt on a physical level. He still remembers just enough of how it felt. The entire room spinning around him, hands shaking, gasping for air, arms and legs tightening to the point it burned. In that moment, he was completely helpless, and he despised it.
When Pluey found him, for some reason, his body wanted to give up right then and there. Perhaps it was because he knew he was safe, had someone to (quite litterally) fall back on. But he held out, somehow.
If he wasn't so tired by then, he would've bursted into tears. Clung to these two harder than they did to him. But he barely felt like he was still there.
It's a lot to explain. If Pluey knew all of that, they'd completely fall apart. They're barely holding it together as is.
Some things are better left unsaid. For their sake, he'll keep it to himself, and look forward. Be grateful that things turned out the way it did. Help Pluey feel a little less afraid, after everything they did for him. He owes them that, at least.
“Well, you're stuck with me for now. I'll stay home all day today if it'll make ya feel better.” They nodded so fast, he was worried their head was gonna pop off.
“How are you feeling now?” He pauses, really concentrating on the things he can feel around him so he can give a proper response other than “okay” or “About to pass out on the TV Time studio floor.”
“Uh...better. But not good,” is what he settles on. “Sleeping definitely helps. But I'm always a little bit floaty, and heavy at the same time. Then there's the pain in my muscles that come later, or nausea. That's why I don't think it's just the fact that I don't sleep very much. It's constant, y'know? I could be doing anything, not feel tired at all, and suddenly on the verge of collapsing. It's weird.” Pluey nods thoughtfully, tapping their pen again the notepad while deep in thought. He should really be telling someone else about this, someone who's a professional that can handle the details instead of just panicking because they think their friend is gonna die, but they don't seem to mind listening at least.
“What's eating like? Does it help?”
“It...kinda makes it worse, honestly.” He awkwardly admits. “I mean, it helps with the nausea sometimes. But not everything else. Especially when I drink coffee, it's like it was made to make me feel terrible.” Pluey frowns at this, and Battat could tell that they were struggling to understand it just as much as he was, but was clearly thinking hard. He put his hands on the notepad, lightly touching their hands to get their attention.
“Hey, you don't gotta worry about it right now. It's just gonna stress us both out. Let someone else handle that, okay?” They reluctantly nod, giving their most adorable "sopping wet cat" face.
“(｡•́︿•̀｡)...”
“Oh, c'mon, don't give me that.” He playfully scolded, “You have me to yourself for a few hours. Aren't you happy about that?” They tapped their chin, pretending to think, before their expression changed entirely with a newfound determination.
“ദ്ദി(˃ ᵕ ˂ ദ്ദി)!!!”
Battat couldn't help but shake his head, hand covering his face. “You're so weird... anyways, we can go do somethin' if you want. I'm bored.” Before he could properly get up, Pluey ran to his side of the bed so they could help in case he lost his balance. Thankfully, he left the room without major issues, aside from the persistent dizziness. It wasn't nearly as bad as yesterday, so he could at least get from place to place. Even if it felt uncomfortable when he let himself feel it too hard.
It was awkward to have Pluey lingering over him all day, so he instinctively tried not to mess up and give them any issues to deal with. Not that he would've rejected their help, knowing how much it fucked things up last time, but it was embarrassing to accept, and failing at all in front of people was even more embarrassing.
He's still not used to people caring this much about him, if at all. But for the first time, him not being perfect didn't feel like the end of the world. He trusted Pluey more than he was critical of himself.
-
Eventually, though, Pluey had to go be Mike. It had been almost a day since they went out, and Jongler was clearly exhausted from doing so much work alone. Still, Battat would talk to them through text so they wouldn't worry too much about his well-being, occasionally having to remind them to focus on work because they were being too clingy. Battat was just existing on the couch, banned from doing anything that would make him feel any worse. Pluey had apparently updated Jongler on the situation so they wouldn't have to ask the same questions about what's going on. They were very relieved that he was letting them help, for once. But things were awkward once the two were alone together after the previous events.
Jongler, after just getting used to talking to Battat regularly again, was already set back from this situation. They barely said anything when they saw each other again, and just like with Pluey, there was a lot left unspoken.
They weren't uncomfortable, or upset, not with him at least. They were scared to face him, thinking they didn't express enough compassion or concern, so Battat was greeted with an even stronger pair of arms wrapping around him. His frail body squirmed, yet barely moved in the Zapper's secure embrace.
“Heaven above, what's with all of these hugs?!” He hisses. “You guys are acting like I was on my deathbed, jeez! Knock it off already!” With that, they let go, sighing.
“Sorry, boss, I's just... I'm glad youse alright, ya know? I didn't get ta see ya very long, or say dat much, n' I was worried youse thought badly 'bout dat.” Once Battat caught his breath and got his composure back, his tone softened.
“Nah, I... I didn't really think about that. You did what I asked, you didn't pry, and I'm thankful. I didn't want Pluey to come get me, but I clearly needed it, so... I guess you guys know better than I do.” He sighed, staring at his hands awkwardly.
“You're a good friend, Jongler. Seriously. Stop being stupid and getting in your head so much.” Jongler, despite the lack of eyes, glared at him so intensely with a mixture of shock and annoyance, shaking their head.
“You's really one ta talk, bud.” They grumbled, and the Pippins rolled his eyes immediately.
“Shut up! You know what I meant!” Their stern front faded entirely, and they laughed.
“'Preciate it, doe. You's a good friend, too. Promise.”
A long silence. They both know what he's thinking, what they're both thinking about themselves, but they'd argue about the subject for hours if they brought it up now.
“...I'm sorry you've been so busy because of all this.” Battat eventually said. “If I could go out there again, I would. You don't have to babysit me or anything now. I can handle myself. I just want you to rest for a sec.”
Jongler, clearly hesitant but not wanting to overstep, decides to join Battat on the couch after a few seconds. He can feel himself blush when they lean against his shoulder. He does nothing to stop it.
“Alright.. if ya sure. I's could use a break. But y'know, I don't mind helpin' ya, either. Yous know dat.” A little too much, in fact.
“...I just don't wanna overwhelm you.” he eventually says, turning on the TV to distract himself. "Or, like, I dunno... Take advantage of your kindness. You gotta help yourself, too.”
“Sure.” They shrug, barely agreeing. “But as far as yesterday goes? Youse come first. Period.”
“...That's just your opinion.”
“Hell no, it ain't.” The bluntness in their voice made Battat stammer, words getting caught in his throat as he could only glare at them in shock.
“I don' care what ya think, I ain't just gonna sit there and let ya deal with dat alone. I may be tired now, but it was well worth it. You's home, and you's safe. Dats all I want.”
Battat was entirely shut up, at this point. There was nothing he could trust himself to say, not when he was feeling so much already. Not when he was still in pain and dealing with the aftermath of one of the worst days of his life.
He'd find every defense in the book, anything that made his needs look way less important than the big picture, but Jongler and Pluey were just as stubborn as he was. Just in different ways.
They were just, also, much more patient.
“Plus, I's relaxin' now, anyway. No harm no foul, yeah?” That's not how he would see it at all, but again, there's no point in arguing. So he only let himself nod.
...
After a few minutes of silence, he spoke up again, barely above a whisper.
“...I'd do this too, you know. If you needed it.”
The Zapper looked at him, stunned, before pulling him closer with no effort at all.
“Trust me, I know. Ya got nothin' ta prove.”
He was gonna do it anyway, but at least they were both aware of it. They sat together in silence, and it calmed him amongst the unwellness.
At this point, his health isn't what's he's worried about. He's gonna stress himself out for the rest of his life, trying to compete with the best people he's ever known, and constantly losing. Worst of all, they'd be perfectly fine with that.
Battat, the unluckiest Pippins in the world, has struck gold in one aspect of his life. And he'll be damned if he lets anything change that.