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It was bad. The stress had hit the kind of tipping point it always did, and you found yourself in bed, unable to move. You knew you had to get up. You knew you had chores to do for the Project. Worse yet this was the second day you'd spent in bed. The end of the world loomed, and even though you knew you were prepared the thought of any of it was overwhelming. The thought of letting the others down. Or not deserving the future the Father promised.
You were grateful at the moment you weren't with Jacob Seed, because you figured you'd already be dead from your lack of mobility. John Seed wasn't famous for his patience either. Faith may not have been a bad choice, as you likely wouldn't feel any of this as an angel.
Tears came to your eyes as you yelled at yourself, tried to will yourself out of bed as you always did. But you couldn't. You were both frightened and exhausted.
"(Y/n)? Are you feeling any better today?" One of the VIPs spoke near your door, trying to check on you.
"No, I don't, I'm sorry." You called back, hoping you sounded convincingly sick. You were lucky to live in the part of the compound with small, but nonetheless private rooms. Two rooms shared a bathroom and kitchen together, a bit like a dorm.
"Should I get you a doctor?" The VIP asked.
"No, I just need to rest. Thank you and I'm sorry." Guilt bubbled up. You felt like a horrible sinner. Sloth, you thought bitterly to yourself. You allowed yourself to sob now, filled with hatred of yourself.
Then you heard the door open. Your blood froze. Had the VIP come back? Had someone come to check if you were sick?
"My child." It was worse than you could have imagined. The Father himself had come. Knowing your life was probably over, you cowered away from him.
He reached out and stroked your cheek, brushing your tears away. He sat on the bed, and you shut your eyes tightly.
"Shhh…" He murmured. "What has you so upset, hmm?"
"I…" You peeked, and he looked down at you with the same serene gentleness he always had, and none of the fire you'd seen before. "I'm sorry, Father...I... it's all just…" You weren't sure how to explain and fresh tears welled up at your failure.
"The Collapse affects us all. Sometimes the weight is unbearable. Even for me. When others won't listen... remembering how much there is yet to do...even the uncertainty that a large change can bring. Do not feel ashamed that this is upsetting for you." He ran his fingers lightly through your hair.
"I shouldn't be putting my burdens on others. I'm being slothful, Father." You drew in a watery breath at this admission.
"No, my child. You are overwhelmed. That is not sloth. You told us that you struggle with sloth. You confessed to John that it consumed you. That you hoped we could help you conquer it, because when it happened you could do nothing. No matter how badly you want to. You don't want to be here in bed. I can see that. Anyone can see. You told your VIP you were not well. Did you think you lied?"
"No...I...sort of? I'm not...sick exactly...I just…" You shut your eyes again, feeling like hiding.
"No, my dear, you are feeling sick today. The difference between sloth and what you are experiencing is that you want it to be otherwise. You want it to be otherwise and your body will not let it. That's not your fault." He kicked off his shoes, surprising you, and came around the other side, to climb in behind you. You were shocked, and you turned slowly, unsure of what to do. He drew you to him, kissing the top of your head.
"You're so patient with others. I am always told of how you are lending others a hand, or trying to help them when they are sad. You deserve the same courtesy." He was so blessedly warm, and his voice had an extra rumble at that proximity. You gave in, pressing your face into him. Breathing in the scent of the Father. He smelled faintly of Bliss and other herbs.
He stroked your hair now, and you felt much calmer. You stayed like that for a long while before he murmured to you,
"When is the last time you ate, dear?" You couldn't remember. You looked up at him and he smiled tenderly. "You're not sure, are you?"
"No... I'm sorry." You looked back down at his chest.
"Don't be sorry. I'll get something for you. Don't worry. You'll feel better if we get you showered too. And then some more rest."
He was as good as his word. He brought you a light meal and water, and when you were finished, he took you into the bathroom and helped you clean up. He had seen how exhausted you'd looked at the notion of trying to wash yourself. He helped you, and brushed through your hair too. He was focused only on caring for you, even though you were a little embarrassed at seeing each other so intimately. Another time this may have been exciting, but today it was just a relief to have someone care for you.
He helped you dress in fresh pajamas, and guided you back to bed. To your surprise, he crawled back in with you again too. He rested an arm over your head, letting you curl into his body.
"I don't want to keep all of your attention, Father, I...I would feel bad if I kept you from all of the things you needed to do today…" You felt guilty again.
"You don't need to worry about it. Honestly I needed this too, and this has made me feel better. So let us just rest, and we'll come back stronger tomorrow, hmm?"