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Angus McDonald was only a child when it was advantageous to him.
The Rockport Limited wasn’t the first time he’d threatened to scream and scream at the “bad man” for leverage or an easy way out. Being a child was oftentimes the perfect disguise to blend in amongst a crowd, following close behind an adult who could reasonably pass as his “parent”. It was unassuming enough to eavesdrop on most conversations, and it gave him the perfect size and shape to hide or crawl through small places when required.
But most of the time, outside of those circumstances, Angus McDonald absolutely did not want to be seen as a child.
Underestimating him was helpful until he needed to be taken seriously, and as a ten-year-old boy detective who had no real authority to arrest anyone or punish them for their crimes, it was very important that he was taken seriously by the adults who did have that authority. He’d worked very hard to be very smart, articulate, well-dressed and mature looking in hopes that people would see past his age and recognize his ability.
That’s why he liked working at the Bureau of Balance. The job that he had there as a Seeker was very important, as was everyone else’s jobs on the moon base, and because he did just as good (if not better) work than the others, no one questioned his right to be there. Sure, he’d get the occasional hair-ruffles, juvenile nicknames, and goofs that he was pretty sure wouldn’t be afforded to his more older colleagues, but when it came down to it, he was a Bureau member first and foremost.
Everyone on the moon base knew and respected how self-sufficient he was. He was given his own dorm room with his own set of Bureau-issued possessions, and outside of work he was largely given free rein to do whatever he liked. His colleagues may or may not have felt any sort of familial fondness for him (he definitely counted them as friends, at least), but they had never once dared tell him to make his bed, or brush his teeth, or pick up his room. Besides, when dangerous, world-ending relics were still yet to be found in the world, stuff like making your bed was simply inconsequential.
Angus took his job very seriously. He’d been brought on as a Seeker working with other B.O.B. members on leads to the location of relics, but more and more recently, he’d found himself working almost as the Director’s assistant, consulting with her personally on the leads she was investigating and the missions she was planning for the Reclaimers. He took great pride in the increased trust and responsibility.
There had been increasing pressure to keep moving forward ever since the Crystal Kingdom. The stakes seemed to be getting higher and higher with every relic found, and the escapes narrower and narrower. They had lost Boyland, they would have lost Merle if it hadn’t been for Magnus’s quick thinking…The Director was very stressed these days, and Angus didn’t need a high perception check to notice it. So he helped her in any way he could, pouring through books and maps, obsessing over intel reports from across Faerun, trying to use all of the information in his little-boy brain to connect as many dots as possible. The fate of the world and the fate of his friends rested, at least in part, on his small shoulders.
Angus’s sessions with the Director had been growing later and later as the days went on. Both of them were so invested in their work that they would often forget about the time entirely, leaving Davenport to come in and bring them back to reality hours later. This night was no exception. The Director’s office was covered in a veritable mess of books and parchment, her Bulwark Staff resting in the corner of the room as she and Angus hunched over her desk, pouring over the information presented there. They hadn’t even noticed artificial sky change from evening to night, so absorbed they were in their work. They were only roused from it by a sudden knock at the door.
“Come in,” said the Director, still halfway focused on a map of the Woven Gulch.
The door creaked open to reveal the small figure of Davenport. “Davenport,” he said, sounding reproachful. The Director lifted up a few reports on the corner of her desk to reveal the small clock underneath.
“Oh my, it’s nearly one in the morning."
“Davenport.” The gnome crossed his arms.
The Director frowned, then turned to Angus, “Davenport is right, I shouldn’t have kept you so late. I’m sorry, Angus, why don’t you go get some rest.”
But they were on the verge of a breakthrough, Angus could feel it. They couldn’t stop now! “Oh, but ma’am, I think we’re really close! If we could just have another hour even—”
She reached out, resting a hand on his arm to stop him. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I assure you it can wait until tomorrow.”
“Davenport,” backed up Davenport, giving Angus a stern look.
The boy sighed but then stood up, surreptitiously sneaking the reports he was looking at into his pocket. “Well good night then, Director, Davenport.” Davenport held the door open for Angus as he left, and he retreated in the dim light of the moon base’s corridors back to his dorm room.
Angus was caught off guard by the sunrise the next morning, realizing that he had worked through the night. But he had so much more information to share with the Director now! He stood up from his desk chair and felt a wave of dizziness sweep through him, then resolved to grab something from the cafeteria when it opened for breakfast—he probably just had low blood sugar. First, though, he made his way to the bathroom and took a shower. His mind had been starting to feel a little foggy within the past hour or so, not to mention that he was feeling kind of greasy and gross. Surely, this would be just the trick.
When he emerged from his shower he felt much more awake and aware, the fog all but gone. He changed into a clean fancy boy outfit and packed all of his notes into a messenger bag, then made his way to the cafeteria.
It had only just opened by the time he got down there, and only the few Bureau employees whose jobs required them to be functioning first thing in the morning were lined up to get food. Immediately he spotted the Director sitting at a table with a sensible bowl of oatmeal, and Angus rushed over to her, excited to share his new information.
“Good morning, ma’am!”
She startled, and when she looked at him it was as if she hadn’t been expecting him to be there. Still, though, her voice was warm. “Good morning, Angus.”
“An epiphany came to me last night, and I was wondering if I could share what I’ve learned with you?” he asked, already starting to pull papers from his bag.
“Of course,” she answered, “But why don’t you eat something first? I’m sure that’s why you’re here, after all.”
Angus grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl at the center of the table and took a large bite of it, then politely took the time to chew and swallow before launching into his explanation of his notes.
The Director paid close attention to his words, punctuating every now and then with a question of her own, and by the time they had finished talking Angus had four separate, new leads to follow. With a quick, “Thank you, ma’am, have a good day!” he was rushing out the door to the library, half-eaten apple still in hand. The Director chuckled and shook her head as he left.
“What a tenacious boy.”
Angus spent the next few hours in the library, going through book after book in the pursuit of his research. He had no mind for the time, and thus never realized he had skipped lunch. It was only an alarm going off on his fantasy wristwatch that pulled him from his books, and he suppressed a swear word as he looked at the time.
“I’m going to be late!”
How could he have forgotten he had a magic lesson with Taako today? He supposed he was just that absorbed in his research. He ran through the halls of the Bureau and skittered around corners, nearly bumping into people on multiple occasions, before finally making it to the Icosagon. Taako gave him a look as he entered.
“Cutting it close, my dude.”
“I know!” Angus said, bracing his hands on his knees as he bent over, trying to catch his breath. The exercise had made him slightly lightheaded, but he was sure it would wear off soon, “I’m sorry, sir!”
“Whatevs, just remember, Taako’s time is very valuable,” the elf said casually, then pulled out a spell book. “So, Ray of Frost. You read about it?”
No. A feeling of dread settled in Angus’s stomach. He’d completely forgotten. He’d been so preoccupied, he hadn’t done any of his homework for Taako. He hadn’t read about Ray of Frost, he hadn’t practiced it. This wasn’t going to go very well at all.
“Yes, sir,” he lied anyway.
“Well then, show me what you’ve got.”
Angus shut his eyes for a moment, and raised his wand, trying to call on his magic like he did every other time he went to cast a spell or cantrip. It wasn’t quite as easy this time, he found himself having to concentrate extra hard with a brain that wasn’t quite cooperating with him today, but he eventually found it. He pulled it forward, focusing his energy on casting Ray of Frost and finally, he let it go.
Nothing happened.
“Huh,” Taako said, sounding surprised. “Well, uh, try it again, I guess.”
Angus did, again putting all his concentration into casting the cantrip, but still, nothing. Again. Nothing. Again, and this time only a small spray of snow petered out from his wand. He was getting more and more frustrated with each failed attempt, his grip on his wand getting tighter and tighter.
Taako frowned, “Are you cool, pumpkin? You’re usually a lot better than this.”
“I-I’m fine,” Angus said, angry with himself, sure the elf could hear it. How could he forget about magic lessons? Why didn’t he practice? “I can do it, I just—”
A single, razor-sharp icicle formed at the tip of his wand and rocketed forward, heading straight for Taako’s head. The elf managed to dodge out of the way at the last second before it collided with the wall behind him, shattering on impact.
Silence. Taako took a step toward Angus, who had quickly lowered his wand as soon as the spell had finished.
“I think we’re done for today,” he said, disappointment evident in his tone.
“I’m so sorry sir! I swear, I can do better, I—”
“Nah, it’s fine. But you should probably read that section in the book again, practice some more, and how about we meet tomorrow instead?”
“O-okay,” Angus agreed. Despite his disappointment, Taako still ruffled the boy’s hair as he passed by to leave, knocking his fancy cap off.
“See ya then, Agnes.”
Angus committed himself to studying for Taako’s rescheduled lesson. He went straight back to the library in hopes that the environment would help him focus and cracked open his spellbook.
He started to read through the section over and over, taking notes in different formats in order to commit the knowledge to memory, but he found that the fog was slowly creeping over his brain again. The words were starting to blur in front of his eyes, despite wearing his glasses.
Maybe if I just lay my head down for a few minutes, Angus thought. He folded his hands down on the table in front of him and leaned his head on them, planning to just rest his eyes for a little bit…
He woke up to the loud sound of Robbie talking nearby. He glanced at his watch—three hours??? He’d only meant to rest for a few minutes! It was time for dinner, but Angus found that he was feeling fairly nauseous. Maybe he’d skip out for tonight. He had a bulk box of granola bars in his room from Fantasy Costco, if he happened to feel hungry later.
“Robert, you can’t have those in here!” said the librarian, a young Tiefling woman by the name of Hope. She giggled though, a blush coming to her cheeks as Robbie offered her a Pringle from the can he had clutched in his hand. Angus had witnessed the two flirting off and on for the past few weeks.
“Aww c’mon, they’re original flavor! It’s not like they’re gonna stain anything,” he defended, then switched topics. “Seriously though, you gotta play Fantasy World of Warcraft with me sometime. It’s dope.”
Hope shook her head, “I don’t understand how you have the time to play that game after all the work you have to do during the day. I find it hard to get a lunch break in sometimes!”
Robbie grinned, “Oh, well, that’s thanks to a little thing I like to call Robbie’s secret sauce.” He set the Pringles can down on the front desk and pulled open one side of his jacket, slipping a potion vial out from its depths and holding it up for her to see. “Keeps me up all night, lets me get those sweet, sweet high scores.”
“Is that even legal?” she asked dubiously.
“Sure it is! Perfectly safe, too. I made it myself. If you wanna try it, I’ve got a bunch in my room.”
That piqued Angus’s interest—a potion that could keep you awake? Maybe that could help him study for Taako’s lesson, and do better work for the Bureau. He took note of the vibrant yellow-green color of the potion.
“I think I’ll pass for now,” Hope said, “But I’m about to go on break. Do you…want to grab some dinner with me?”
“Hell yeah!” Robbie answered, and Angus took that as his cue to pack up his things and leave the library.
Those two would probably be busy for at least a good hour, Angus figured as he walked down the hall. He knew where Robbie’s dorm was. If he was just able to sneak in there, surely the halfling wouldn’t notice a couple vials of the potion missing.
He made his way to Robbie’s room, smelling unmistakably even from the outside of Pringles and various potion ingredients, and pulled out his lockpicking kit. He wasn’t nearly as good at the craft as say, Carey, but it had proven to be useful skill multiple times over when investigating mysteries. Luckily, this lock wasn’t too tricky, and even as a new wave of nausea surged through him, he was able to get it open in a matter of minutes.
He slipped inside of the room, making sure to close the door behind him. It was an absolute mess. Ever since the Reclaimers had moved out, no one else had been assigned to be Robbie’s new roommates, and as such he had dumped what seemed to be as much junk as possible onto the other three bunks in the room. Angus had a hunch for where these potions would be kept, though, and climbed over piles of dirty clothes, Pringles cans, and empty potion containers until he reached the desk with Robbie’s gaming computer. He pulled open one of the drawers and—success! It was filled with vials of the same yellow-green liquid. Angus took out a handful of them and dumped them into his messenger bag, making sure to rearrange the remaining ones to make it look as if nothing had been disturbed. He then quickly left the room, locking the door on his way out.
The halls were quiet and empty as Angus traversed them, presumably because everyone was at dinner. Once safely back in his room, he stored all but one of the vials in the drawer of his nightstand, covering them with some of the other odds and ends he’d collected in his short time on the moon base. Then, without stopping to think too hard about it, he pulled off the cork off the one he held in his hand and downed its contents with one gulp.
The potion tasted like what Angus imagined radioactive lemon-lime would, and he grimaced as it went down. It wasn’t entirely pleasant, but he immediately felt more awake and energetic, and he smiled. It worked.
Originally, he’d planned on continuing with his relic work, but he’d gotten so much more information for their search—it would be okay if he focused on something else for one evening. Instead, he spent the rest of that night and into the morning studying and practicing his cantrips. The potion also having settled his stomach some, he managed to scarf down one of his granola bars before heading off to his new lesson with Taako
“Sup, Agnes?” Taako said when he entered the Icosagon. For a moment, he looked the boy up and down. Frowned, though Angus wasn’t sure why. Then he seemed to shake the thoughts in his head away.
“Good afternoon, sir!” Angus responded, pretending as if that moment hadn’t just happened, “I studied a lot last night, and I think I’m finally ready to cast Ray of Frost!”
“Cool, let’s see it then,” Taako prompted, leaning on his umbrastaff.
Angus once again reached deep for the magic within himself, but this time, it was much easier to channel it through his wand and into an appropriate Ray of Frost. It wasn’t super powerful by any means, but it was very competent for a young boy like himself.
“Good job, kid!” Taako encouraged, sticking the tip of his umbrastaff into the ray and watching as the frost collected on it. The spell ended, and the elf grinned. “Taako knew you had it in you.”
Angus beamed under the praise. Taako gave him a few pointers about his stance and wand work, and had him cast the spell a few more times, but once satisfied with that, he started to lay the groundwork for Angus’s next lesson: Thaumaturgy.
“And try to get some rest, okay pumpkin?” Taako mentioned just before he left the Icosagon, “I know magic can be exhausting, but I could fit my whole explorer’s kit in the bags under your eyes.”
Angus paused in packing up his things as the elf turned his back and went out the door, reaching one hand up to brush his fingers just under his left eye. Did he really look that bad? He hadn’t been paying much attention while looking in the mirror lately. And he did have to admit, using all that magic was pretty straining. He quickly finished cleaning up, but before left the Icosagon, he ran into Killian and Carey.
“Hey there, Ango!” Carey greeted.
“Hello, Miss Carey! Miss Killian!”
“We were just about to grab some lunch; wanna join?” Killian asked.
He was torn at first. He’d noticed over the past twenty minutes or so that along with some lethargy from the magic use, the nausea was once again starting to come back from earlier, and the idea of food wasn’t entirely appealing. Logically, though Angus knew he probably should at least try to eat something. Maybe just some soup, or something else light.
“Okay,” he agreed, and they both chatted happily to him the entire way to the cafeteria.
He got himself a small bowl of chicken soup as Carey and Killian loaded up their own plates with mountains of grilled fish and potatoes, and when they exited the lunch line they heard a familiar voice call out.
“Killian! Carey! Angus! Over here!”
The three of them turned to see Magnus already at a table, a huge smile on his face as he called them over. They joined him, Angus choosing a seat next to Magnus while Carey and Killian sat across from them.
“How’s your day been, Django?” Magnus said, looking down at the boy.
“It’s been very good, sir!” Angus answered, stirring his spoon around in his soup. “I had magic lessons with Taako, and I was able to cast Ray of Frost!”
“Nice!” he raised his hand for a high five, which Angus reciprocated. He turned to the other two. “What about you guys?”
“Oh, well, we’ve spent the day sparring in the Icosagon,” Killian said. “Noelle was with us for most of the morning, and she’s doing awesome.”
“Yeah, her badass robot skills are going to be a great addition to the team!” Carey added.
As Magnus and Team Sweet Flips continued to discuss training regimens, Angus spooned some of the broth from his soup into his mouth. He was able to get a few bites in, but the nausea wasn’t going away, and his exhaustion was only growing greater and greater with each passing minute. Was he crashing from the potion? He didn’t think far ahead enough to bring any extras with him; they were all back in his dorm. He stood up suddenly at the table, preparing to leave, and it drew the attention of his friends.
“Angus?” Magnus asked, looking between the boy and his barely touched soup. “Are you leaving? You’ve barely touched your food!”
“I know, sir,” Angus replied, picking his messenger bag up from the ground and hastily slinging it over his shoulder. “I don’t feel very good right now. I think I’m going to go back to my room for a little while.”
Magnus studied Angus’s face for a moment, eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly in concern. “Okay. Feel better soon, alright? If you need anything, you know how to call me.”
“Thank you, sir, but I’m sure it’s just a little bug!” Angus gave them all a polite little wave and then left quickly, bound for his dorm room.
As soon as he arrived, he took another potion, and though he once again felt a rush of energy and awareness, he found that its effects didn’t last as long as the first time he had taken it. Upon crashing for the second time, Angus knew he had to sleep, and so he did, for a good six hours—until he started the cycle all over again.
But it was necessary! The Director had called him to her office shortly after he had woken up, excitedly sharing with him that she finally knew the name of what relic they had been narrowing down the location for—the Temporal Chalice. That alone gave him so many new leads, and with every passing hour, he knew he was closer and closer to discovering exactly where they needed to send the Reclaimers next.
He knew that these habits he was forming weren’t ideal. Nausea came and went in waves, his whole body was achy, and the fuzz that had lingered over his brain sporadically before now seemed ever-present. But he was functioning. His work was important, and he was doing what needed to be done.
In the days that followed, he missed the increasing amount of concerned looks from his friends. He rebuffed multiple invitations to eat with them at the cafeteria, didn’t notice the constant, gentle suggestion of “get some rest” that came along with the good nights exchanged as they passed by in the hall during the evenings. As the world’s greatest boy detective, he prided himself on being observant; but he was so blinded by his work, he missed every clue about what was going to happen next.
A call from Taako over his stone of farspeech. Apparently, the elf could no longer make their magic lesson next week, and would Angus be up to doing it today instead? No studying required, he’d show him a new spell that was “fucking awesome” and they could just have a really chill, educational time.
Angus agreed, quickly setting his work aside. He was always eager to spend time with Taako, and even if this was kind of sudden, it was better than having no magic lesson at all.
He’d been told that they would meet in the Reclaimers’ living room, but when he arrived, he noticed that instead of just Taako, it seemed like half the Bureau of Balance was there. All three of the Tres Horny Boys, the Director, Davenport, Carey, Killian… And they all had the strangest expressions on their faces.
“W-what’s going on?” Angus asked, unnerved by the quiet and the fact that all eyes were on him. He wrinkled his brow in confusion. “This isn’t a magic lesson…is it somebody’s birthday? Is it my birthday?”
“No Angus, it’s not anybody’s birthday,” Magnus said, breaking the silence, but still not answering his first question. They all looked like they had something they needed to say, but didn’t actually want to say it.
Angus frowned. “Well, can I go then? I was really in the middle of a good lead, and—”
“I’m officially giving you the day off,” the Director interrupted. “The week off, actually, at least, if not more.”
Panic shot through him. But he was so close! Did he do something wrong? If she didn’t need him anymore, he must have done something wrong, maybe he wasn’t working hard enough… “I swear it should only take me another day, please, I can work harder, I can do better, I know I can…”
“You’re doing a great job, it’s not about that,” she quickly corrected.
“How do you feel right now, kid?” Merle asked, voice almost soothing, and that’s how Angus knew something was wrong. Merle was never nice to him…
“I feel fine,” he said, even as a light wave of dizziness and nausea swept through him. He subconsciously put a hand to his mouth as he swayed a little on his feet.
Suddenly Carey was at his side, her movements silent as ever, holding his arm and supporting him. “Woah there, bud,” she said. She led him to the overstuffed easy chair that Merle usually frequented, guiding him down into it. Then the book clutched in his hands was gently removed, handed over to Killian who tucked it under one arm. Magnus stepped forward and knelt down next to Angus, meeting him at eye level.
“Angus, when’s the last time you ate something?” he asked.
“Um,” the boy tried to think. “I had a granola bar, I think… yesterday.”
Their faces fell. Shame swelled in Angus’s hollow gut, and he wasn’t entirely sure why.
“And how many hours did you sleep last night?” Taako asked suddenly.
“I-I didn’t,” Angus answered after a beat. “But I was too busy, I had to get through this research, we’re so close to locating the next relic, and—”
“How many hours the night before?” Taako interrupted. The normally aloof tone in his voice was gone, replaced with rigid seriousness. Angus didn’t like it.
“A-a couple, sir.”
“And the night before that.”
“I think I had a nap, but—”
“And the night before that.”
“I don’t know!” Angus exclaimed, anguished tears forming at the corners of his eyes as Magnus said, “Taako, that’s enough!”
A big, calloused hand came to rub soothingly up and down Angus’s back while he pushed aside his glasses and wiped at his eyes. Then the hand hesitated for a moment. Pressed just a little bit harder at the tips of its fingers. No doubt feeling the slightest protuberance of ribs from Angus’s small frame. Then started rubbing again. “It’s okay, buddy,” Magnus said, “We’re not mad. We’re just worried about you.”
Angus looked up to see blatant concern on all of their faces—even Taako’s.
He suddenly realized this was an intervention.
“It took us way too long to realize you weren’t eating or sleeping,” Carey said, “Angus, bud, that’s not okay. You need to take better care of yourself.”
“And we need to remember to take care of you too,” Killian added, slipping an arm around Carey’s waist.
“I’m not a baby,” Angus protested.
“No, but you’re still a kid,” Merle argued, “and we shouldn’t be letting you neglect your health for this damn Bureau.”
“And if we—if I—have ever given you the impression that that was necessary, then I am so, so sorry,” the Director said. “I know things are stressful right now, but the people here—you, Angus—always come first.”
“That means you need to eat three meals a day and get at least eight hours of sleep each night,” Magnus said, “and, y’know, stay hydrated, and take breaks to do fun stuff every now and then.”
“How did you manage to stay awake for so long?” Taako asked, looking Angus right in the eyes, “Any normal human would have collapsed from exhaustion a long time ago, getting as little sleep as you have.”
Angus looked down and twisted his hands together nervously in his lap. “I-I heard Robbie—”
“Who?” Magnus asked.
“…Pringles.”
“Oh,” he nodded in recognition. “Continue.”
“Well, uh,” Angus said, “I heard him bragging one day about a potion he’d made that let him stay up for an entire night playing Fantasy World of Warcraft—”
“I’m gonna kill ‘im,” Merle said angrily, “Giving a dangerous fucking potion to a kid?”
“He didn’t!” Angus corrected quickly, “I, um…I snuck into his room and took it. But it was safe! It didn’t hurt me!”
“Any potion can hurt you if you drink too much,” Taako said. “Do you have any more of it?”
“Yes, sir,” he answered softly.
“Gonna need to know where, pumpkin.”
“In the drawer of my bedside table. And here.” He pulled out the small vial and blindly thrust it forward, not wanting to meet anyone’s eyes. Taako stepped forward and took it from him, then handed it to Carey with a nod. Without another word, she and Killian left the room, no doubt going to purge the rest of the potion from Angus’s dorm.
“C’mon, boychik.”
Angus looked up to see Taako’s hand extended toward him: an invitation. He hesitated a moment, then let the wizard pull him up from the chair. Taako didn’t let go of his hand as he started to lead him out of the room, past everyone else.
“Where are we going, sir?”
“Infirmary.”
“Can’t I just—can’t I just go sleep in my room?” Angus asked, pulling lightly on Taako’s hand as he stopped in place. Taako stopped too, half a step later, and turned to face the boy.
“Nope,” he said, popping the p, “Too late for that. You gotta deal with the consequences of your actions…and you can’t even stand up straight.”
It was only at that moment that Angus realized the world was swaying around him slightly.
Taako adjusted his grip, taking more of Angus’s arm to stabilize him better, and without another word, they continued to the infirmary. When they passed through the double doors, the lone healer on duty looked up from the book she was reading in surprise—the infirmary didn’t get much business when the Tres Horny Boys weren’t returning from a mission, at least ever since they had been promoted to being the B.O.B.’s only Reclaimers. Taako pushed forward to the first available bed and then, in what Angus thought was an entirely unnecessary gesture, lifted the boy by his armpits and placed him into it. By that point, the healer had set down her book and scrambled over, a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other.
“What seems to be the problem?” she asked.
“Boy Genius here hasn’t eaten or slept in a week, is probably also dehydrated, and he might have overdosed on stimulant potions.”
“I didn’t!” Angus protested, and Taako shushed him, unconsciously running a hand through his hair. It felt…nice. Comforting. Angus relaxed into the touch.
“Hmm,” the healer said, scribbling down some notes on the clipboard and then setting it down to take up her stethoscope instead. She slipped it under his shirt and listened for a few moments, and Angus shivered as the cool metal pressed against his chest.
She frowned, “His heart rate is elevated.”
“Probably the stimulant potions,” Taako suggested.
The healer hummed in agreement. “Well, I’ll start him on an IV then, try to counteract the effects and get some nutrients into him.”
“Do-do you really need to?” Angus asked suddenly, a slight bit of fear creeping its way into his voice as he leaned forward, away from Taako’s contact. He hadn’t been a fan of them talking about him as if he wasn’t even there, but couldn’t he have a say in what they did to him?
The healer put a sympathetic expression on her face, “I’m afraid so. It’s the most efficient way to make you better.” She patted his leg before leaving the room for a moment, then returned a minute later with the supplies she needed. Angus leaned back on the bed on her instructions, but his eyes went wide upon seeing the needle, arm flinching before she’d even come near him with it.
“Hey, bubbeleh. Look at me,” Taako said suddenly, and Angus did. He felt a cold sensation as the healer started to wipe his right arm with an alcohol swab, and he started to turn his head back again.
“No, don’t look over there, keep looking at me,” Taako insisted, placing a finger under Angus’s chin and guiding him back. His other hand rested on Angus’s free arm, thumb brushing soothingly back and forth, back and forth. He started humming a familiar tune as Angus felt the healer insert the IV.
“All done!” the healer said a moment later, “You did so well!”
Normally, Angus would have fought her condescending tone, but the song Taako was humming was so calming, his presence so comforting…
“Don’t you ever fucking worry us like this again,” Taako said, as Angus started drifting off to sleep.
Angus McDonald prided himself on being extremely self-sufficient, but in the end, he was still a child. He couldn’t do it all on his own, nor was he expected to. Now, realizing just how much his family cared about him, he thought that might just be okay.