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Sluggish. Tired. Achy. Cold. Congested.
Zack drags his feet as he walks, steps more like slides squeaking across the tile floor. The squeaks only echo in his ears and make sharp, ice-pick like pains throb in his temples. As if it will help, he raises his heavy, tired arms up and clamps his gloved hands over his ears. Even from inside the gloves his fingers are icy, yet his face is oddly warm.
Oh how he hates getting Mako Booster shots. They always make him sick. Though if he’s being honest, they don’t normally make him feel this bad. The most he’ll ever get from them is pain at the injection site, soreness, headache, a few cold-like symptoms and weariness. So these new ailments are quite the unexpected development.
“Did they… put something else in there?” Zack asks himself aloud, but winces at the volume of his own voice.
He presses his hands into his ears harder, which doesn’t help the ice-pick headache, but does dull the sounds that could further agitate it. Namely his loud mouth.
They did have a new tech this time giving the shots. Maybe they got his dosage wrong? That had to’ve been it. Why else would he feel this crummy?
He groans and takes his hands from his face, lessening the pressure. It’s starting to hurt too much keeping them there. He’ll just deal with any loud or annoying sounds as they come and make the best of it.
At least he gets the following day off from drills and missions after his Boosters. That should be plenty of time to get back on his feet.
Speaking of feet, he needs to pick his up so he’ll stop squeaking his boots against the tile and making his headache worse! With a bit more effort than it should take, Zack picks up his steps and attempts to walk normally, (not like he’s trudging through waist-deep quicksand).
Once he makes it back to his mentor’s flat, he’s crashing for the rest of the day no matter what!
Angeal perks at the sound of the door whirring open, glancing up from his murder mystery book on the couch and greeting Zack with a smile as he always does.
“Welcome back, Zack. How’d the－”
“Angeeeaal, they gave me too muuuch…” Zack wearily greets, dragging himself into the flat like a tired zombie.
Instantly, that gets his mentor to put his book down and leap up from the couch, hurrying over to him.
“Too much? What do you mean too much?” Angeal’s firm, steadying hands clasp his shoulders and his bright midnight blues glaze with concern.
“There was’a new tech doing the shots today… an’ I think they gave me too much.”
“A new tech…?” Angeal’s face screws up in faint confusion, but doesn’t take long to mellow back out and a knowledgeable smile pulls at his lips. “Zack you got a ‘new tech’ because you’re done with the Third-Class Boosters.”
“...Wha?” Zack blinks and his brows furrow.
“It’s on the calender. The 29th: Zack’s first Second-Class Mako shot. You actually forgot?”
Zack blinks. Once. Twice. He cocks his head to the right and his brows furrow harder. Then they loosen and his eyes faintly widen.
“Ohh…” He recalls.
“Ohh indeed, pup.” Angeal smirks and chuckles. “You’re not a Third-Class anymore, so you aren’t going to get the watered down stuff.”
“...Well, that certainly explains why I feel like I got kicked by a donkey during allergy season.” Zack laughs a tired, weak laugh, but it’s a laugh nonetheless.
That makes his mentor laugh a little louder and he pats his shoulders. “I remember my Second-Class shots… you’ll be feeling like this for a couple of days unfortunately.”
“Ahh…” Zack groans and dips his head down, spiky black hair drooping with the rest of him.
“Don’t worry, that’s why I’m here. Wouldn’t be a very good mentor if I didn’t look after my student.” Angeal beams an encouraging smile. “You just go lay down in your room for a bit and rest up.”
“Okay, Angeal.” Zack pulls his head back up slowly and offers a tired smile in return.
Once his mentor lets go of his shoulders, Zack aligns his groggy path to his room and clanks toward it. Stride swaying and hiccuping down the hall to reach his room in his mentor’s flat. His door is still cracked open as he left it before so he trudges right in. Even though he feels like hot garbage, his room always maintains the perfect temperature.
He’s so happy he doesn’t have to be in the barracks while in the mentoring program.
And once he reaches his unmade full-sized bed from earlier this morning, he practically falls into it face-first. He doesn’t even bother to take his boots off or readjust himself. He just feels so tired and achy.
He ends up falling asleep like that.
When he comes to, he finds himself laying on his back and staring up at his ceiling fan, the blades spinning on low. His brow furrows and his mouth curls down. He didn’t remember falling asleep like this at all. He was sure he fell asleep face down in his mattress.
With groggy, achy movements, he forces himself to sit up. His covers had been wrapped around him and even his boots were off. He found those resting by the foot of his bed. At least he was still in the same clothes he left the flat in this morning; ocean blue three-quarter sleeved v-neck top and seaweed green cargo pants.
Shortly after he sits up and looks around, tender knocks resound against his door (which had apparently been shut while he slept too).
“Zack? You awake?” Angeal’s voice carefully asks.
“Uh-huh.” He responds with a voice as groggy as his body, wiping some crusted sleep from his eyes with a balled right hand.
The door to his bedroom opens up soon after and Angeal enters carefully, balancing a bed table with a few things on it in his hands.
“I imagine falling asleep face down on your bed wouldn’t be very comfortable after a while, so I might’ve moved you a bit.” His mentor smiles as though he could read the confusion on his face as easily as a book.
“You took off my boots and tucked me in.” Zack deadpans. “I’d say you moved me a bit.” He smirks.
“Good to know you’ve got enough strength back to sass me.” Angeal’s smile beams brighter at that. (If Zack didn’t know any better he’d say his mentor liked being annoyed by him.)
“Brought you a home-cooked meal. Figured it might help you feel better faster.”
Angeal sets the tray down next to him and Zack glances over to see what’s inside. He’d say it smells good, but that’d be a lie; he can’t smell anything right now with this congestion. Though he can tell by looks alone that it sure does look good.
A beef based stew sits on the tray, steam rolling high from the broth and the tender brisket. Potatoes and carrots decorate the dish in bite-sized pieces as well as diced celery sticks and green onions.
Zack is elated to still have an appetite. His mouth waters at the dish and he swallows thick, which makes his mentor chuckle and grin. With how much fast food he grabs himself after his drills, it doesn’t really give Angeal a chance to do any cooking.
He really needs to cut back on those greasy burgers.
“Wow, this looks amazing, ‘Geal.” Zack licks his lips and settles the tray on his lap.
“I’m glad. You eat so much junk it’s hard to find a time to put good food in you.”
“I know.” He rubs the back of his head and glances away, clearing his throat.
“Alright. I’ll let you eat in peace. Let me know if you need anything.” Angeal turns on his heel to head back to the living room.
“Uh, actually－”
His quick interjection gets his mentor to stop walking and glance over his shoulder. “What is it?” He kindly asks.
Zack keeps his eyes trained to his sheets and heat flourishes in his cheeks; he’s blushing. “Maybe, if you wouldn’t have a problem with it… could you keep me company?” Good food always tastes better with close friends around.
“I’d be honored to.” Angeal rounds back to his bed, then sits on it and turns his beaming smile up a couple more notches.
Zack meets his eyes and copies the smile. He hasn’t even taken a bite of the meal yet and he’s already feeling loads better. He knows he’ll feel practically healed after eating something this warm and comforting in good company.