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One thing Sam never counted on after constructing the prison, was what would happen when he got sick. But that was ridiculous, Sam never got sick.
Well, that's what he liked to tell himself anyway. But still, everyone gets sick, there's no point denying it.
At first he just thought it was one of those days, waking up with muscle aches and a temperature slightly higher than normal.
Still, he gave no thoughts to it, getting dressed and ready for the boring task of sitting at the reception desk for the prison. He might have the occasional visitor, or have to throw some more potatoes to the convict.
Time seemed to pass stupidly slow, and Sam found himself pacing until his stomach began to ache. After that, he remained in his chair, trying to retain his posture but failing.
He was grateful for the small trash can under his desk, quickly realising he'd be needing it soon as the urge to upchuck increased.
"Saaaaaaam." Dream yelled from his cell, very audible due to the cameras placed inside. Sam looked up with a groan, activating the PA.
"What is it?" He grumpily asked, hugging himself as his organs decided to have an illegal rave.
"You sound cheery." Dream commented, sat on the floor of his cell, looking up at the camera.
"What do you want?" Sam repeated. He really wasn't in the mood to deal with Dream's antics today, less so than usual.
Dream sighed, seeming to understand the situation. He knew Sam, he wasn't one to snap that often.
"Nothing, I was just gonna talk." He stated innocently, smiling beneath the mask.
Sam groaned as he moved his fist from the button, leaning back in his chair.
Time seemed to pass even slower after that, even after he turned down the volume of the cameras so he wouldn't have to listen to Dream talking to himself.
He both hoped and heaved at the thought of a visitor, hoping they could cure him of his misery but heaving at the thought of having to take them to the cell.
It wasn't long before he did actually heave, quickly reaching for the unused trash can under the desk, gagging forcefully.
This continued for a few minutes, until he finally brought up what he ate last night. He was totally oblivious to the figure exiting the portal, walking towards him.
"Sam? You good?" Tommy questioned, rubbing some dirt from his face, keeping his distance.
Sam continued to gag, too afraid to move his head away from the bin in case he caused a spillage.
Tommy inched forward, pulling his bandana up so it covered his nose and mouth. "Are you contagious?"
Sam couldn't help but give a light chuckle at that, wiping his mouth in his arm. "I don't think so Tommy." His voice was hoarse, and he winced at it.
"You sound like shit and look like shit." Tommy bluntly stated, now walking to the desk.
"Feel like it too." Sam agreed, placing the trash can on the floor then leaning back in his chair.
Tommy hummed slightly, opening his satchel and pulling out a bottle of water. "Here, drink this." He ordered, holding it out.
Sam obliged, washing his mouth out then having a few sips. He knew it wouldn't settle, but he hoped it wouldn't make a reappearance.
"You need any help with anything?" Tommy offered. Seeing as Sam had been there a lot for him lately, he thought he should try and repay the favour.
Sam shook his head. It's not like he was gonna do anything today, he'd just rather be in a bed rather than in the uncomfortable chair.
"Why don't you go into your office? I can sit at the desk and ward off anyone that comes in."
Sam thought deeply about that, he did trust Tommy, but did he trust him to keep control of the most powerful person on the server?
Eh, he couldn't cause that much damage. It's not like Tommy knew his way in, he'd be fine.
"That would actually be amazing."
Tommy was rather pleased with himself, sitting at the desk. The trash can from earlier had been emptied, and Sam had taken it with him.
He continued to wear his bandana over half his face, not wanting to catch anything if Sam happened to be contagious.
He didn't count on anyone coming to visit, he wasn't even supposed to be visiting today, he just wanted to see Sam.
It was an hour or so of keeping watch when he decided to check on his newest father figure, flicking the lever and quietly walking in.
Unsurprisingly, Sam was asleep, using his arm to shield his eyes from any light.
Tommy left another bottle of water beside the bed, noticing that the trash can had been used again.
He quickly took it, once again emptying it before returning it. After that, he left the room and flicked the lever back up.
Tommy may have been annoying to some people, but he was actually very caring. He didn't enjoy seeing people in pain.
Occasionally he'd look at the cameras, just to see Dream pacing in his cell. He didn't do it often, cursing to himself quietly every time he did.
Tommy remained at the desk until his clock told him the sun had set. He checked the cams, Dream was asleep.
He checked on Sam, he was also asleep. He was sure to cover him with a blanket, before writing a note and exiting.
He smiled at the gentle breeze as he walked up the prime path to his dirt shack, proud of himself for the good deed he had done.
Sam awoke the next day, finding himself chuckling at the note Tommy had left, already feeling much better.
"Feel better soon, or don't."