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Micah has only had this cough for two days, and John already wants to kill him. Whenever Micah is in camp, John hears him letting out almost constant, scratchy coughs—not even that loud, and it beats Micah snorting and spitting like normal, but something about the noise is wearing John’s short temper thinner. He’d probably be more patient if literally anyone else had this new cough, but with Micah being the only sick one, John just considers it another reason for Micah to piss him off.
Since yesterday, John has caught Micah rubbing the front of his neck when he thinks nobody can see, and John hasn’t seen him drink alcohol since Micah spluttered and grimaced as he downed a shot of whiskey last night. That same evening, Micah’s voice began getting hoarser, and when he got into an argument with Arthur, Micah stunned them all by not bothering to get the last word, settling with giving Arthur an obscene hand gesture and storming off. Afterwards, Micah went into his tent for the first time John had ever seen, and when he wasn’t coughing on and off, presumably slept.
It's mid-morning the following day, and Micah is still in his tent. They haven’t heard any coughing for hours, so he must still be asleep.
“Hopefully he’s dead,” Arthur mutters.
“Arthur!” Dutch snaps, before sighing. “John, will you go check on him?”
“Why me?” John moans. “He’ll probably shoot me for goin’ into his tent.”
“Yeah, so that’s why he’s sendin’ you, Marston,” Arthur says, smirking.
“Shut up, Arthur.”
“Just get on with it, John,” Dutch says, stepping between them. “You’re such goddamn children sometimes…”
As Arthur bemoans being called a child, John sighs and stalks off towards Micah’s tent. More impatient than ever, John pulls back the tent flap without asking and strolls inside the stuffy tent. Micah lies on his bedroll fully clothed except for his hat and gun belt, fast asleep.
There are many ways he could prank the bastard, but John’s fraying temper just wants to get this over with as quickly as possible. So he simply winds back his foot and kicks the sole of Micah’s boot as he says, “Hey! Wake up!”
Micah flinches awake, spluttering in shock and confusion—and letting out that irritating cough again. Bloodshot eyes meet his own, Micah’s half-asleep disorientation fading into anger as he realizes what just happened. Glaring at John, Micah scrabbles less-than-gracefully to his feet, and as he goes to shove John away, he opens his mouth and—
“Fuck o-off—” Micah manages two words before he freezes in place, horrified. His voice isn’t even loud enough to be a whisper, weak and cracking like somebody strangled him. “I-I sa—” Micah manages even less this time before coughing hard, shoving John with one hand as the other grabs his neck.
Back outside, John smirks. Micah Bell has lost his voice. As he rushes to spread the news, for the first time in two annoying days, John laughs.