Work Text:
Geraldine shivers despite the multiple layers of blankets covering her body and her chest shakes violently as she goes into another coughing fit. She looks rather poorly with her bright eyes glowing red, her skin warm, her head heavy like lead and woozy. She brings a hand to her temples in attempt to stabilize herself against the growing feeling of dizziness.
Witches’ fever is no simple deal, much less for Miss Gullet who has a pretty sensitive immune system, the entire reason behind her fixation on health and safety. She goes through this at least once every winter and somehow it never gets easier. It might have to do with the ancient carbuncle’s inadequate insulation or the depressing feeling of loneliness that nests inside her, now more than any other time, like a monster spreading its tentacles and suffocating her in its grip.
Now, no one in this academy, not even miss Hardbroom, is heartless enough to let her suffer through illness on her own. They check on her, offer to spend time, lend her books and even the sour goth giraffe passes by a couple times to kindly hand her flu potions that will alleviate her symptoms but, in her heart, Geraldine knows this is all pretend. Their interest is ingenuine, stemming from pure pity or ideas over basic human decency. On a daily basis, when she’s full of life, the communication between her and the rest of Cackle’s staff never exceeds formalities between colleagues. She never gets invites to any parties or even tea and therefore despises their efforts to appear caring in her time of weakness. They’re a bunch of hypocrites and she doesn’t want any of them around. She only longs for the company of one person but she knows that’s not feasible. Not like this.
Yet, at some point during the small hours of the night, when darkness and silence has befallen on the academy and all stands still, between her drifts in and out of consciousness, she distinguishes her silhouette on the chair next to her bed. She momentarily blinks, certain her mind is playing tricks on her, succumbed to the haze of fever. She wants to say something, reach for her hand but bites her tongue, seizing all words. This could lead to a terrible mistake.
The blonde witch however, does not disappear. In fact, more and more details seem apparent the more Geraldine stares at her. She concludes it must be Ada, who came to check on her. The lack of glasses and the strawberry milk by her nightstand however suggest otherwise, proving her first instinct to be correct.
“A-Aggie?” she stutters weakly “…mistress?” she adds, unsure of the proper title to call her by, her thoughts a tangled thread.
“Shh” Agatha brings her finger to her lips. “They can’t find me here”
“Sor-ry” the redhead attempts to sit up but her loved one pushes her back on the bed
“Absolutely not, Gullet. Stay right where you are or I’ll magically bind you if I have to. You need to rest”
“But if you did that, they would know you were here” the ginger witch points out, her first reasonable thought in hours.
“I can deal with my bigheaded sister” her fellow witch smirks and waves disparagingly “But your health comes first”
“You know, for the leader of a dark magic coven, you’re such a softie sometimes”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Gullet” Agatha dismisses her, embarrassed by the moment of weakness she allowed her to see “I’m simply aware of the fact my plan to take over this school will not go very well if my sole accomplice isn’t strong enough to cast even a level one spell. That’s all” she offers an explanation without looking up from her hands.
“Right” the other nods, not entirely convinced.
A pause halts the flow of the conversation as she reaches for her drink and slurps the last gulp, emptying the bottle of its contents. A pause that’s brief yet long enough for Geraldine to slowly regress back to sleep.
Her mistress, unaware, fidgets with her straw thoughtfully as she says “So we agree that it won’t be necessary”
“Huh?”
“Magically binding you”
“Absolutely…not”
“Good” Agatha smiles. She approaches the bed and carefully tucks her partner in crime in “Now go back to sleep like the sensible witch you are”
“Wha…bout…you” Geraldine mumbles, grasping her hand over the blanket.
“I don’t have much time but I’ll stay with you for a little bit” Agatha gives her hand a soft rub over her fingers before pulling away.
“But..the flu…you”
“Cackles do not get the flu, don’t you know that? We’re strong like lions” she chuckles. ‘Or well, some of us are married to the most competent potionist in the country’ She thinks to herself. “You don’t need to worry about me. Now go back to sleep before I hex you into sleep like Maleficent”
“Yes, boss” Geraldine smiles into her pillow and with that falls back into the clasps of Morpheus.
The first sunbeam of the day is making its way into the room when Agatha rises. She wraps her cloak around her shoulders, vanishes all evidence of her visit with a movement of her fingers. Broom in hand, she leans over the soundly sleeping spells teacher, who is snoring softly to bid her farewell.
“I love you so much, my silly bat” she applies a tender kiss to her forehead “You can’t keeping scaring me like that”
She turns around, sighs, wipes a tear away and disappears.
“I love you too” Geraldine’s voice comes out no louder than a whisper, yet firm.
When the deputy comes to bring her flu potion later that morning, she is surprised to find her spirits lifted, a big smile on her face in contrast to her previous gloomy attitude. ‘That was strange’ she thinks once she’s exited the room 'Maybe I put a little too much tarragon' she glances at the empty vial. She then raises her shoulders and goes about her day, deciding she’s too busy to occupy herself with such trivial matters. If Miss Gullet had gotten a glimpse of her confusion, she’d be quite amused. What does that moody spinster know about love anyway?