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Summary
Im sick, therefore ive decided Jabber is too.
When the cold hits harder than expected, Jabber finally does the unthinkable. He skips missions and collapses under a pile of blankets. Cthoni intervenes by quite literally dropping him into Zanka’s care.
Sick, stubborn, and miserable, Jabber hates every second of being looked after—especially by Zanka. Zanka, meanwhile, couldn’t care less about Jabber’s pride. Warmth, ointment, and enforced rest follow, whether Jabber wants them or not.
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A quiet sickfic about cold weather, reluctant vulnerability, and the kind of care that doesn’t ask for permission.