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Bloodhound was a very independent person. Anyone who had known them longer than a minute could pick up on that fact. They did not accept help if they didn’t feel like they needed it. The games were an exception, they were aware that teamwork was the key to winning and fulfilling the mission that the Allfather had laid out for them. Most other times, they opted to handle situations on their own.
So when they woke up oddly warm and sluggish, they didn’t think to let Lifeline know. It was hardly the first time they had woken sick, as the woods that they had used to claim as their hunting grounds were hardly sanitary. They took some of their extra food stores, drank extra water, and slept it off in a well-hidden shelter, it had never been a big deal. Now living in the large mansion-like base where all the Apex Legends took shelter in, it should be even easier. Feed the fever and go to sleep.
They ignore the curious and concerned looks they get when they walk to the kitchen in the clothes they wore the other day. They usually weren’t concerned about hiding their face; everyone in this base had seen it at least once. They realized now that it probably would have hidden the bags under their eyes and the pale skin. Whoops.
Lifeline doesn’t seem to be moving around yet, and so they work to grab what they need (five bottles of water was clearly appropriate) before she spots them and gets on their ass about walking around sick. When they feel a tap on their shoulder, they sigh and turn around, already formulating a story about having not gotten much sleep because the air was hot in their room. They instead come face to face with Mirage, which halts their mouth.
“Hey Hound, you look like shit.” Mirage spoke bluntly. He reached out to touch Bloodhound and they shift back, making him miss and fumble his hand around before settling it on the back of his neck. “You, uh, you feeling okay? Did you not sleep well, or-“
“I am fine, Mirage.” Bloodhound held a hand up, inwardly wincing at how scratchy their voice sounded, “It is nothing that I can’t handle on my own. Really.”
“I mean, you don’t have to handle it. On your own, I mean. I can get Lifeline for you, I’m pretty sure she’s awake by now.” Mirage starts to turn to go find her before being promptly stopped by Bloodhound grabbing him by the back of the shirt.
“I told you, I am fine.” Bloodhound said firmly, the effect weakened by the state of their voice but effective all the same. Mirage turned around, not convinced but not eager to disobey either. “I will be in my quarters. I don’t want to be interrupted, by you or by Lifeline. Is that a realistic expectation?”
“Yeah, sure.” Mirage said before Bloodhound took their stash and passed him, headed back to their room. They grumbled, it was just a stupid cold. They didn’t need anyone fawning over them, they had treated this themselves a thousand times before. To think that he thought them so helpless.
By the time they reached their room, they felt like they had been dragging rocks uphill. They took one of the bottles of water and drained it before shoving half a banana in their mouth at once, not at all concerned about manners. They adjusted the curtains that walled off their bed and the blankets that laid on top, making a fine little nest for them to sleep the sickness off in. After finishing off the banana, they flopped into bed, burying themselves under the covers and sinking into the mattress. They could already feel sleep’s warm embrace pulling them under.
They’d be fine when they woke this evening.
It wasn’t the evening when Bloodhound woke, and they did not feel fine.
They had no idea what time it was, the curtains blocking out the windows and their eyelids being practically glued shut. Forcing their eyes open didn’t help much and only served to make their head pound with the movement. This was new, they had never felt quite this bad.
They hauled themselves out of bed and stumbled, catching themselves on the wall. Dizzy, why did they feel dizzy? They briefly thought that they might need more water, but the thought of anything going into their stomach made it lurch unpleasantly.
They stumbled over to the mirror, their eyes widening somewhat at the flushed face that looked back at them. Their eyes were bright with fever despite the dark circles that marred them. They opened their mouth to curse softly at the sight before being wracked with coughs that made their chest and throat scream in protest. They found themselves needing to support themselves on the wall as the coughs shook their frame and left them gasping for breath. They could faintly make out Arthur’s frantic caws as they panted.
Okay. Maybe they needed a little help.
They opened the door and stumbled out into the hall. Nobody seemed to be moving around, which for once annoyed them. It would be so much better if they could just tug on somebody and tell them to get Lifeline so they could go back to sleep while she treated them. They were very tired all of a sudden.
They stumbled to the first bedroom they could reach, not bothering to look at who occupied it before they knocked (or, rather, flopped their hand against the door). They knew the door had opened, and they could vaguely make out Mirage’s surprised form.
“Get… Lifeline…”
It was the last thing they could say before the inky blackness swallowed them whole.
It had been a few hours since Mirage had seen Bloodhound. They really had looked like hell warmed over, and had it not been for their very clear warning, Mirage would have already checked on them at least four or five times. Maybe six, depending on how they had looked on the fourth investigation.
He hated leaving them, but he also liked his dick in the spot where his mama placed it and not strung up a flagpole. Bloodhound liked their privacy, and anyone who jeopardized that was liable for a tongue-lashing at best and taxidermy at worst. Most of the legends just left them be. Mirage had really been the first to try to make friends with the hunter.
Surprisingly, it had somewhat worked. He and Bloodhound had had more than one pleasant conversation, about the games, about weapons, about life. They were the sort of person who had a lot of words to say but no opportunity to say them, similar to Mirage. The two seemed to click, which surprised everyone.
This is why when Mirage had first admitted his feelings to the hunter, he had been absolutely sure that he fucked everything up.
It had slipped out accidentally after one too many beers, enough so that the filter between his mind and his mouth had faltered. It was just a little comment made through a laugh after Bloodhound finished a story about a particularly amusing (and badass) kill they had made during the game that day.
“God, you’re so awesome. I’d kiss you if I could.”
He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, because Bloodhound had frozen, glass halfway to their lips. He was certain that they were going to slap him and leave then and there, but they continued the conversation as calmly as they could. It wasn’t until he was sober the next afternoon that Bloodhound had given him a straight response.
“I am… willing to attempt a courtship of sorts. Consider us on the line between a platonic and romantic relationship. I need time to make sure that this is… right. I hope you understand.”
He totally understood, and frankly, that was a much cooler answer then what he had been expecting. They had been taking it incredibly slow, Mirage trying to be as chill as possible and waiting for Bloodhound to make the move that would push them properly into a romance. It was the least he could offer, he wanted to prove that even if they were dating, boundaries were radical. Tubular, even.
So he started with little things. Learning basic Icelandic phrases, reading up on their religion, holding open the door when they returned with more than one animal corpse. Little things that, he hoped, said ‘I am very much interested and want to let you know that I care and will make and effort, but you’re calling the shots and I will not be a creeper unless you let me’.
Was that even a valid way to get a date?
Mirage was jolted out of these thoughts by an odd… knock? Could it be classified like that? It sounded more like one of the ravens flew into his door. Confused and half expecting to be greeted by feathers, he got up and opened the door.
He was not greeted by feathers. He was instead greeted by Bloodhound, paler then they were this morning and barely standing.
“Call… Lifeline…”
Mirage barely caught them before their knees gave out on them, sending them falling. The hunter was surprisingly light without all of the bulky gear, and so he could easily lift them and get them to his haphazardly made bed. Fuck, they were warm. Really warm. Were they too warm?
They quickly send a text to Lifeline that surely had far too many misspellings to be legible before running to his bathroom. He grabbed every washcloth he could see, running them under the cold bathwater and wringing them out so they would soak the poor hunter. He ran back out and tried to remember everywhere you were supposed to put a cold cloth to lower a fever. Forehead, obviously. Chest maybe? God, what if they woke up and saw his hands near their chest? Would they freak out?
What the fuck was he doing? They were burning up, slap cloths everywhere there was skin.
They shuddered as the cold contrasted against their skin and Mirage mumbled out an apology as he brushed their hair away from their face. It was usually tied up, it was odd to see it a mess like this.
They got more water in the form of a cup and tried to wake them. “Hound? C’mon buddy, you need to wake up. Just for a bit, just until Lifeline can look at you. Please?”
Bloodhound shifted and groaned, their eyes fluttering open. “Mirage…?”
“I’m here. Fuck, I’m sorry I didn’t come find you earlier. I should have checked on you or something, I-“
They patted his leg before trying to sit up, groaning in pain as Mirage supported them and kept the cold cloth against their forehead. They tried to swipe it away and he shushed him. “I know, but you’re really warm and I need to get your fever down while we wait for Lifeline.”
“How long was I out?” Their voice cracks and Mirage winces sympathetically. Fuck, he was really bad at this whole nursing thing.
“Not too long, uh, five minutes? Seven? It-It was less then ten.” Mirage said, honestly having no idea how long they had been unconscious for and wondering if he should have been keeping track. Bloodhound just nodded slowly, like it took serious effort just to lift their head up. Fuck, where was Lifeline?
“Tired.” They mumble, trying to lay back down before Mirage catches them. They make an annoyed noise and he finds the nerve to not just let them lay down. A small part of him was worried that they wouldn’t wake back up.
“Sorry, you can sleep after Lifeline’s looked at you, promise.” Mirage said, not sure if he could keep said promise, but it seemed like the best way to settle them at the moment. Hell, he would want to sleep something like this off too. “How do you feel, what are your sympta- syncht- symp- symptoms, those things?”
They were quiet for a moment, as if trying to remember what that word even meant, before speaking somewhat slowly. “Headache. Congestion. Sore throat. Body hurts. Upset stomach. Tired.”
“That sounds a lot like the flu, did you not get your flu shot this year? Lifeline was dishing it our like it was the polio vaccine.” Mirage put a couple pillows behind them to hopefully give them some comfort.
“I am not sure. I know that there was something that Lifeline intended to give to me but couldn’t because she did not have enough.”
“Probably forgot to order extra after Wattson came aboard, fuck.” Mirage sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I mean at least we have a name for it. And you won’t die from it. Lifeline’ll probably just give you some meds and you’ll be on your way back to dreamland. Sound good?”
Bloodhound hummed weakly in response, leaning heavily against him. Mirage blinked in surprise, it wasn’t often that Bloodhound made and movements that showed that they were weakened. They were like an animal, hiding and keeping quiet when they were hurt. It made trying to find them to revive them during the games a bitch and a half, and if they would do that after having been shot several times, then surely they would do the same with something like the flu? Then again, if they felt as bad as they looked, then this could be counted as an underreaction.
“I am sorry if I startled you.” Bloodhound said quietly, “I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me. I went to the first room I could.”
“Dude, you’re so fine. I’d rather you pass out where I can see you, if I’m perfectly honest.” Mirage assured them, “Better than you falling in the hallway and hitting your head. That would probably not be great for the headache.”
That actually got a tired chuckle from the hunter. “I don’t believe the others would appreciate the noise. Especially if Arthur saw.”
“God, if Arthur saw then it would be like when your alarm clock is just out of reach so it keeps screaming at you and getting louder and louder.” He said, “Love that bird to death, but damn can he get loud.”
“You haven’t heard him angry. His angry caw is much sharper than his frightened caw.”
“You can tell his emotion through his caws?”
“You can’t?”
“I mean, I guess some seem longer or shorter…” Mirage rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“I have been listening to him since he was barely older than a chick. It comes with practice and exposure. Like a person who says that their cat has different meows.” Bloodhound looked up at him as they spoke before wincing. Their throat must be raw at this point.
“We can sit here in blissful silence if you want to rest your throat. Sounds pretty bad.” Mirage pulled their hair up off their neck, wondering if that would help their temperature a bit. The quiet noise of relief that the action drew from their mouth assured him that it did.
“I can deal with it.” They said, despite the fact that they were dragging words out of their lungs.
“You thought that last time and look at you now.”
“I thought I only had a cold.”
“Ehh, fair. The flu kinda creeps up on you.”
Bloodhound hummed in response, slowly but surely fading on him. Mirage didn’t want to let them fall asleep, he kind of needed them conscious to get some medicine in them. But at the same time, they looked absolutely miserable and it was just the flu. He massaged their scalp, hoping it would annoy them enough to keep them awake. It in fact had the opposite effect on them, drawing a noise from them that Mirage decided not to think of as a mewl and making their eyes flutter. It was adorable. The vicious hunter of the Allfather known as Bloth-Hunthr-but-you-can-call-them-Bloodhound was fucking adorable.
He shifted so that they could more properly lay down, sputtering in surprise when they rolled and flopped onto his chest, damp cloths and all. They were seeping through Mirage’s clothes, but he couldn’t care less about that because Bloodhound was currently nuzzling into his chest. They had to be delirious, right?
“I can move if this is an issue.” They said, their accent heavy as sleep threatens to pull them under again.
“No no no, you’re fine! I’ll wake you when Lifeline gets here.” He replied.
They hummed in response before asking, “Can you continue? What you were doing with my hair? It felt nice.”
Mirage blinked before running his hands through Bloodhound’s hair again, massaging their scalp and trying to ignore the warmth still radiating from them. It seemed to work, because they sighed contentedly again before drifting off to sleep, snoring somewhat.
He threw Lifeline another, more detailed text and hoped that he wasn’t making a mistake.
It wasn’t nearly as disorienting the next time Bloodhound woke. They still felt like they were wearing weights on their body and that their head was stuffed to the brim with cotton, but they didn’t feel quite as warm, which they took as a good sign. Instead, they were laying on something warm. They shifted, knowing that this wasn’t their bed, before spotting Mirage’s face as he dutifully pats their forehead with a damp cloth. Right. That all happened.
Mirage noticed them awake and grinned that annoyingly charming grin. “Hey there sleepyhead, how are you feeling? You sleep like the dead by the way, Lifeline gave you a shot in your ass and you didn’t even flinch.”
That concerned Bloodhound somewhat, as they were typically a very light sleeper, and getting stabbed would have surely woken them in a healthy state. But at the same time, holding the doctor at instinctual knifepoint probably wouldn’t have done anyone any favors. They shifted into a more comfortable position but couldn’t bring themselves to move from Mirage’s chest quite yet. He was tantalizingly soft, his scent bringing a sort of comfort that they needed after their turbulent day. “How long was I out and what happened while I was?”
“Well, Lifeline finally came a few minutes after you racked out. Apparently she didn’t have her phone on her because Octane jumped off the roof- long story, don’t ask- and broke his arm, so she was dealing with all that.” Mirage recounted, “She was pretty pissed that you didn’t go to her when you realized you were sick, so I’ve been instructed to tell you if you ever pull shit like this again, she take her drumstick and shove it in one ear and out the other.”
“Noted.”
“She gave you a few different meds, pain reliever, fever reducer, sinus cleaner-outter…”
“Do I dare ask about the state of your shirt?”
“You think I didn’t keep you clean and comfortable in your most vulnerable time? I’m hurt, Hound.” Mirage smirked at them, their hand absentmindedly tracing shapes on their back. It felt surprisingly good. “But nah, you’re fine. You really only slept. You’ve been out somethin’ like five hours?”
Five? They felt like they could easily sleep for another week. They looked around, trying to gauge what time it was. Mirage had had dinner delivered to him and eaten, the sky outside the window was dark, and the clock (where they probably should have looked first in retrospect) had 9:25 shimmering back at them. Staring at it too long aggravated their headache, so they squinted and pressed their face back into Mirage’s chest. “Have I kept you here too long? I can leave.”
They did not want to leave. Walking sounded absolutely dreadful. But they could at least give him the option.
“Nah, you’re really not that heavy. I could get up and move, it’s just that whenever I sat back down, you clung to me like a sloth. Not-Not that that’s a bad thing! I just decided to take it easy with your today since you seemed to really want conc- cont- cuddles.” Mirage stammered out the last word, like it would be the one word that sent Bloodhound to their feel and waltzing out the door. It wasn’t, for they could admit that they wanted the cuddles.
“…May I toe our line, Mirage?”
“I figured using me as a mattress was the toeing but go on.”
“I want to stay. You’re comfortable and I want to sleep again.”
They couldn’t see Mirage, but he was certainly blushing at the request. “I mean you probably need something to eat or drink, Lifeline gave you some fluids but that was a few hours ago-“
They reached their hand out and fumbled around before finding a water bottle. They flipped over and drained the bottle in an impressive timeframe, or at least they assumed it was because Mirage was staring at them, mouth agape. Once it was empty, they tossed it to the side and rolled back over. “Oh no. My stomach is full.” They said dryly, getting comfortable again.
“…That was badass.”
“I’m sure it was.”
Mirage couldn’t really argue with that logic, so he reached and turned off the lamp before snuggling closer to them and wrapping the blankets around them both. “You can kick them off if you get too hot.”
“I don’t think I’ll have to. This is nice.” They could feel their eyelids drag for what would hopefully be the last time, they didn’t like to be down because of sickness for more than a day or so.
Mirage wrapped an arm around them and Bloodhound was forced to acknowledge how right this felt. Mirage had sacrificed his whole day for the sake of their comfort. They would need to come up with a plan to repay them. Dropping a fine stag skin on their doorstep didn’t seem appropriate, so they settled with a quick little peck on his jaw and a “Thank you.”
Mirage froze for a moment before nuzzling them gently. “Anytime, Hound. I’ll ask where we are on the line once you’re awake enough to think.”
“I’ll have a good answer for you.” They say before sleep consumes them for the night.