Work Text:
You hadn't left that stupid yellow couch all day. Well, besides to piss a couple times and get a cup of water. Even then, it was a struggle to keep balanced as the world was spinning around you. It was hard to pick things up, hard to walk in a straight line, hard to even think.
Somehow, no one on the bebop had noticed. The did notice you curled up under a blanket on the couch, but they didn't notice the smeared mascara under your eyes or the quiet sobs that you muffled into the pillow.
It was terrifying, not being able to even open your eyes without getting nauseous, let alone stand up from the couch. Even taking a piss was a difficult task. You'd hold it as long as you could until you were about to burst, then make your way through the spinning ship to the bathroom, white knuckles holding onto the seat for fear life.
You had gotten vertigo a few times in your life, but it never lasted this long and it was never this intense. And to be truthful, you were scared shitless. What if it didn't go away? What if you got hurt the next time you went to the toilet? What if this was a symptom of something much worse? Another tear fell down your cheek, you squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the nausea. The effort was futile, your nausea was here to stay. It did help a little with the dizziness though, and you were grateful for the relief.
Spike stared at your curled up form on the couch, your blanket covered your entire body and then some. You had been on that couch all day, his couch. And all he wanted to do was lean back on the yellow sofa and have a cigarette. It was getting late, and you were still on his couch.
Were you on your period? He thought, or did you lose a bounty? Or did your heart get broken by another idiot? Whatever the reason, he didn't care. He was getting his couch back.
"Y/N," he whispered, shaking your shoulder gently. Another wave of dizziness hit you. Damnit, Spike.
"Y/N," he whispered again. Was he worried about you? Did someone finally notice your dying body?
"What?" You asked, not turning to meet his face. You didn't want him to see you like this.
"Hey, uh," he started, "I noticed you've been on the couch all day..."
So he did notice, you thought. He was worried, he did care.
"Mind if I have it back?"
You let out a huff. That asshole.
"Fuck you," you whispered, curling even further into a ball.
"Y/N, I'm serious, I want my couch back," he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, trying you turn you over. You resisted.
"Too bad."
He stared at your blanket-clad form for a moment more.
"Move," he said, ripping the blanket off of you.
"No," You covered your face, curling up into an even tighter ball.
"I'm serious, move!"
"I can't!" You shouted, finally turning to face him, your red, glossy, mascara-stained eyes on full display.
His face dropped when he saw you, frozen for a moment as he looked at the gray tear-tracks that slid down your cheeks.
"What do you mean you can't?" He asked gently.
"I'm so fucking dizzy I can't stand up," you said, your pitiful voice a quiet sob.
He really felt like an asshole now.
"Have you felt like this all day?" He asked, getting down on his knees to your level.
You just nodded, tears welling up in your eyes for your 15th crying session of the day.
"Why the hell didn't you tell anybody?" He huffed, voice half a whisper. Though he sounded annoyed, you could hear the worry in his tone.
"Cause I'm too prideful," you joked, though it wasn't too far from the truth.
"Damnit, you're starting to sound like me," he smiled. That damn smile....
"It's getting late," he started, "Why don't we get you back to your room? I bet your bed is a lot comfier than this hunk of junk." His hand came to slap the couch cushion just below your feet.
"You'll help me?" You asked.
"Yeah, I'll help you."
He gently picked you up from the couch, his arms supporting your back and knees. The motion, although gentle, threw you off balance again. You clung to his neck, eyes shut tightly and face buried into his shoulder, as if the spinning would would swallow you up if you didn't hold on tight enough.
"Relax, I'm not gonna drop you," he said, arms pulling you closer to his chest.
He made his way towards your room, noticing how your grip on his suit got tighter the faster he walked, and slowing down as much as he could without reaching a snail's pace.
"You're doing all this for that damn couch," you whispered into his shoulder. He chuckled.
"I'm not doing this for the couch," he said, voice low and husky. You felt your stomach flip. As much as you wanted to blame it on the vertigo, you knew it wasn't the vertigo. You pouted into his shoulder. Damn, you were down bad for him.
He reached your room and opened the pod door, taking a gentle step over the raised threshold, and then another. He then approached your bed. As he got the the foot of the small twin sized mattress, a loud growl interrupted the silence. Your face burned with embarrassment; it was your stomach.
Spike chuckled at the sound.
"You hungry?" He asked. You didn't even have time to answer before he responded, "I'll get you something."
"No," you said as he placed you down on your bed.
"No?" he questioned, "Why not?"
" 'm too nauseous to eat."
His brow furrowed as he
"Have you eaten at all today?"
"No."
He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.
"You've got to eat. How do you know that's not making it worse?" He didn't give you time to answer before turning on his heels to leave, "I'm gonna find you something to eat, maybe see if Jet has any remedies. I don't think you'd like any of mine."
————
Spike scoured through the fridge and pantry, looking for anything you wouldn't throw up. He had found a package of crackers, they were on the counter as he looked for anything else that might work. Something more substantial, perhaps. Something with nutritional value.
"Whatcha lookin' for?" Jet's low growl of a voice made spike jump.
"Jeez, Jet, give a warning next time!" Spike said, looking up at his friend for a moment before going back to his task, "You got anything good for nausea? Everything in here's so greasy."
"We got crackers, but I guess you found those already,” Jet motioned to the package on the counter, "Thats about it."
"Damn," Spike sighed, closing the fridge door.
"Poor Spike got a tummy ache?" Jet joked, slapping a hand onto Spike's shoulder.
"Y/N's got vertigo. She hasn't eaten all day and she doesn't want to because she's nauseous."
"Is that why she was laying on the couch all day?"
Spike nodded.
"Damn, I feel like an asshole for not checking up on her," Jet muttered.
"Tell me about it," Spike sighed, "I tried kicking her off the couch, that's how I found out."
"You really are an asshole..."
"Hey!"
A beat of silence passed through the small kitchen as Spike filled a glass with water.
"Should could've told one of us, we would've helped her," Jet spoke, Just as he did so, Faye walked down the hall and past the kitchen. "Well, some of us would've helped her."
"I don't think she's used to getting help, let alone asking for any."
"It's a real shame..." Jet trailed off, "I think I have something for nausea, bought it after you tried to feed me a lizard last time I was sick. I'll go find it.”
"Good, just bring it to her room," Spike said, picking up the crackers and glass of water before leaving the kitchen.
————
Spike and Jet had managed to get you to eat, and the medicine Jet brought had really helped with your nausea. The spinning, on the other hand, didn't get any better. But then again, you didn't expect that from an anti nausea medication.
Jet had left a little while ago, leaving you and spike alone. He had talked about everything and nothing in order to distract you from the spinning, but it was getting late, and he was running out of things to say.
"Well, I think I'm gonna head to bed," Spike yawned, standing up from the chair and turning towards the door.
You caught his wrist before he could take a step.
"Please, don't leave," you whispered. He turned to you, his eyes meeting your glassy ones and he froze. You still looked so pitiful, so afraid. He had never seen you this afraid before. Shit, you've fought violent battles and faced certain death, but dizziness of all things you were afraid of. Spike thought of himself a strong- willed man, but he couldn't refuse that pitiful stare.
"Alright," he sighed, slipping off his shoes and shaking off his coat, "Move over."
You did as he said, the small motion disorienting you for a moment. Oh, the things you do for that man.
Spike pulled off his tie and loosened the top buttons of his shirt before pulling himself under the covers next to you.
You weren't expecting what he did next, though.
He gently pulled your body on top of his own, arms coming to wrap around your torso as he tucked your face into his neck.
"It's gonna go away, I know it will," he reassured, running his hand through your hair, "I'm willing to bet that it'll be gone by tomorrow morning, let's say.... 20,000 woolong?"
"Hell no," you said, he chuckled. The sound and gentle reverberation of his chest sent butterflies through your stomach.
A few moments passed in silence, Spike running his fingers though your hair and you listening to his gentle breathing. This was nice, you thought. Something you wished would happen for a while now. You wished the circumstances were different though, cause even though Spike's presence and affection was comforting, the worry that your vertigo would never go away still lingered in the back of your mind.
"Y'know," you started, voice soft, "I' ve had this happen to me a few times before. But it's never lasted this long or been this intense."
"It's gonna go away, I promise. Everything's gonna be fine," he reassured, holding you closer, "Try and sleep, I'm sure that'll help."
"Spike?" You asked quietly.
"Yeah, doll face?"
"Thank you, for everything."
"Don't mention it, just try and sleep, 'kay?"
"Ok," you mumbled, nuzzling closer into his neck. And soon enough, the warmth of his body combined with his steady breaths and the comforting arms wrapped around you had lulled you into a half-asleep state.
Your eyes closed and your breathing slowed, something Spike took notice of.
A familiar feeling tugged on his heart as he stared down at you. Over the past few months he had fallen hard for you, and as much as he wanted to ignore it, he couldn't anymore. The feeling never went away; it only grew.
The last time he had been in love, it only brought him pain. But somehow, he knew this time would be different.
He stared down at you for a moment more before placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head. Then, he closed his own eyes, sure that you hadn't been awake to feel the kiss. But you felt it, you definitely felt it.