Work Text:
Work has been complicated after the hospital fire. The former leader of the Volunteers Fighting Disease didn't let any of it take away his cheerfulness, not the lives that were lost then nor the brothers and sisters who decided to leave. Now the man worked in a small hospital near the sea. Not much happened there. Most patients were either drowning victims or had bad sunburns, with the occasional person who fought a crab in between. He had composed new verses specially for them.
But the patient he met this afternoon was something completely different. He realized it the moment the nurse he had been following opened the door. He was a middle-aged man, and he was pale, very pale, and also soaked. He coughed loudly, horribly, and grabbed the sheets with so much strength as if that could help him. His eyes were so dull that he looked dead already, if the coughing wasn't saying otherwise. The Man With a Beard had never seen that condition before, but he knew that patient didn't have much time.
He held the nurse before she could enter. "Don't. You will catch it too."
"We don't know what he has." The nurse explained. "There are half a dozen other patients admitted today with the same symptoms. It is our job to find what they have and help them." There was genuine concern in her voice, but he could see she was afraid as well. She had probably never seen anything like that before either.
He held her shoulders, in an urgent but comforting motion.
"You need to go to the kitchen, and find the most bitter spice they have. Horseradish is best, but whatever you can find will help. Be sure to bring a big amount."
His certain but soft tone and his body language certainly helped, but his usual cheerful behavior and the way he always provided help in the hospital were probably the main reasons why she trusted him, and ran straight to the kitchen. The Man With a Beard watched her until she was out of sight. Then, he took a surgical mask from his pocket and wore it, before carefully stepping into the room. From his other pocket, he took an empty heart-shaped balloon.
"Hey, it's going to be alright." He said to the patient in a gentle voice, as the man shook and coughed. "It will be alright. I need you to blow this." He approached the balloon to the man's face.
"I… can't… breathe…" The man said between coughs, his voice very weak.
"It will help you breathe. You don't need to fill it, just blow a few times."
The Man With a Beard placed the balloon on the patient's lips, and he did as told. At first, it seemed that the man wouldn't be able to do it, his breathing was too weak. But the volunteer didn't give up. After a while, the balloon was still the size of a hand. It was enough. He tied the end of it, right as the nurse returned with a box filled with bottles and cans from the kitchen.
"That's all I could find." The nurse said.
"Great. Give some to him and to the other patients, and also to the staff that came in contact with them." The man said, grabbing a small can of wasabi from the box. "Don't forget to take some yourself. I will check if anyone needs some cheering." With that, he shook the small balloon he was still holding.
He knew it was impossible, but he could almost hear the spores he managed to catch inside.