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Victor slowly opened his eyes, trying to not let fatigue win. The first thing he felt was pain. He was freezing and his vision was blurred even though he still had his glasses on. His head was pounding and his stomach and legs were in so much pain he felt like he was dying. He reached for the cup full of water he usually kept beside his bed, but found it wasn't there. Shit. He'd have to get up to get another cup.
He turned his head to the side, looking for his cane. It wasn't there. He looked on the other side of the bed and found it wasn't there either. Where had he put it? Well, it doesn't really matter because he can use his wheelchair. Except it wasn't in sight. Had he left it at home? He didn't think he had. Was it in the other room? Did he leave it in the lab? Had Henry moved it? Did he leave it near the shower again? Was it in another building where one of his classes took place? He couldn't remember. Sometimes he really hated brain fog.
To be honest, he wasn't even sure he could've gotten out of bed anyways. The pain was becoming unbearable and he was exhausted. He didn't care if he had classes today. He hadn't gotten a good amount of sleep in a while and he didn't know how else to deal with the pain without bothering Henry.
When Victor woke up for the second time that day, Henry was sitting beside his bed. He had realized that there was a significant amount of blankets piled on top of his bed, which he didn't remember even buying. There was also a cup of water beside his bed.
"Oh, you're awake. I bought some blankets because you were freezing. Are you okay?" Henry asked, his face coated in worry and fear.
"Thank you, Henry. You really didn't have to do that. To answer your question, no. I'm going to assume I'm having a flare up," he responded. He tried to sit up, but immediately fell back down. He was exhausted.
"Here, drink some water and then rest some more. I'll make you a bowl of soup," he said, slowly standing up. Victor nodded and grabbed the cup beside his bed, the water shaking inside. When had he grown so weak? He drank almost the entire cup and went back to sleep, a nice escape from the pain.
The third time Victor woke up that day, Henry was gently shaking him, urging him to wake up. Victor blinked and realizing that the soup Henry had said he would make for him was ready, he tried to sit up. Fatigued and in pain, he failed to properly sit up, just like his earlier efforts.
"Victor, you fool! Lay down, I'll hand you the spoon," Henry said. Victor sighed but stopped trying to sit up. The warmth of the soup was nice, considering how cold he was earlier. It somehow also made the aching in his legs and stomach weaken. Soon, Victor had drank almost the entire bowl.
"Was it good? I haven't made soup in a while, so it not might have been the best. Oh, and I did put in extra salt! I thought it would help with the flavor but I also added it because I remember mentioning you needed a significant amount of salt? Sorry if I'm wrong on that," Henry rambled, placing the bowl on the table near Victor's bed. Victor smiled and laid his hand on Henry's.
"Henry dear, the soup was great. And you did remember correctly, salt is very important when it comes to my disability," he replied, squeezing Henry's hand slightly. Henry gave him a small smile and stood up. He placed the bowl in one arm and hugged Victor with the other.
"I'm glad it tasted alright. Now rest, you need it," he said. Victor nodded, and quickly fell asleep again. Henry guessed it wouldn't be hard considering Victor's lack of sleep and chronic fatigue. He placed a small kiss on top of Victor's forehead, and turned to the tiny kitchen to rinse out the bowl.