Work Text:
Melissa wakes up feeling absolutely awful.
She is coated in sweat, like she spent the night rolling around in a pool of water. Her head and face feel tight, a squeezing band around them. And she feels both far too warm and too shivery. A horrible combination.
She would be perfectly willing to lie in bed all day, wasting away into a puddle of sweat and metal. But she remembers with a jolt that she has a mission today.
A mission. She has to get up and do something, run and hide and fight in her miserable state.
She takes a few deep breaths to prepare herself. Her breathing is shallower than normal. But that’s fine. She just needs to make it through today.
She gets up, staggering on shaky legs. She has a black jacket, lent to her by one of the rebels, which she puts on and wraps around herself. Anything to help with how shivery she feels. And the jacket feels comforting. Like acceptance. Like a hug.
She leaves her room and heads down the corridor, leaning against the wall for support. When the rebels go past, she stops leaning and walks properly for the few seconds where they can see her.
She gets to the kitchen without collapsing, which she silently congratulates herself on. She can’t even stomach the thought of eating, so she takes a glass of water and sits at the table. She feels terrible. She has no idea how she is going to get through this.
“Melissa!” Milo’s voice usually cheers her up, but now the loud noise reverberates in her skull like he rang a bell right next to her her ear. “Oh, are you ok?”
“Just tired.” She screws up her eyes and rubs her head. But she gulps down the water and tries to straighten up and smile. “I’m ready for the mission today.”
“Great! Right, you remember your part of the plan?”
Melissa winces. Her head feels foggy, like it is stuffed full of cotton wool. She would normally remember, but today? She is having trouble telling left from right. “Can you go over it again?”
“Sure! Ok, so…” Melissa tries to listen. She really does. She wants to do well, she wants to please him. But as she listens, Milo blurs in front of her. She can’t concentrate. She knows that he is saying words, but she can’t understand what they are. It’s like gibberish.
She starts to panic. She can’t do the mission like this. But she can’t not do the mission. Either way, failure or refusal, she is punished. She is useless.
“Melissa? Melissa, hey.” She is jolted from her panic by a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure that you’re ok? You look… kinda sorta really terrible.” Milo says.
Melissa snorts at Milo’s bluntness. She takes a deep breath, or at least tries to. Her breathing is even shallower, her test feels tight. “I’m… I don’t feel well, but I’m ok…” She tries.
Milo’s cool hand touches her burning forehead. She leans into the touch, both for the touch itself and for the cold feeling. Milo winces. “Geez, you’re burning up. You must feel terrible.”
Melissa lowers her head. “I’m sorry.”
“What? No, hey, don’t apologise. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” Milo takes her gently by the arms to help her up. She leans against him even without meaning to, so exhausted and so ill. He helps her along the corridor, as her legs shake and she tries to breathe. She feels so terrible. And so frightened. She can’t be useless.
Milo helps her into bed, so soft and gentle the whole time. So reassuring. It feels nice, to be cared about. But that doesn’t stop her from feeling guilty and scared. “I’m sorry. I know I need to go on that mission, I’m sorry for letting you down.”
“Oh, Melissa. You’re not letting me down. You’re sick! Everyone gets sick. Everyone needs a sick day sometimes.” Milo perches on the edge of the bed.
“Exactly. Remember, Milo got sick a few weeks ago.” Zack points out, just as gentle.
“That’s different.” Unwell, her filter slips. “You’re a human. I’m a cyborg.”
“You know that doesn’t matter to us.” Zack puts his hand on her shoulder. “You still get sick.”
“I can’t be useless. Then I’m scrap metal.” No, no, why is she telling them this?! She shrinks in on herself, pulling the blanket up.
“Hey, you don’t want to make yourself hotter.” Milo pulls the blanket down. “A few days of being sick doesn’t make you useless. And besides, you don’t need to be useful. You’ll never, ever be scrap metal.” Milo is so vehement. So determined. So… so different from Verliezer.
“I’ll go get you more water.” Zack says. “And I’d better tell Candace.”
Melissa winces. “Do we have to tell her? I don’t want her to be angry or disappointed…”
“She won’t be.” Milo promises. “I promise that you’re alright. No one here would ever be mean to you about being sick. And if they did, they would have to deal with me.” Milo scowls, which is very uncharacteristic. “Was Verliezer mean about you being sick?”
“I ruined an important display because I lost my voice.” Melissa shudders. “He was so angry. It happened a few other times, but that time… hurt more.”
Milo squeezes her shoulder. He sounds so upset. “I’m sorry. We won’t ever let that happen again, promise.”
They sit in silence for a while. Melissa’s eyes are burning, like someone is holding them open when all she wants to do is sleep. And her breathing is getting more and more laboured.
The door opens again. “Hey, Melissa.” When she hears Candace, Melissa flinches. “How are you feeling?”
“Terrible.” She admits. “I’m sorry for ruining the mission.”
“Oh whatever. Isabella will just fill your role this time, no big deal.” Candace brushes her off. “Were you planning to try and do the mission anyway?”
Melissa bows her head.
“Melissa, you’re sick. You’re allowed to rest, and you need to rest.” Candace puts her hand on her sweaty head. “Oh wow, you’re terrible. Rest, and that’s an order.”
Once again, Melissa is struck by how different her new boss is from her old one. How much more she likes the new one.
“Ok. I, uh… thank you.” She manages a strained smile.
“No need to thank me.” Candace pats her on the shoulder, brisk and firm but still kindly. “Murphy, make sure that she rests.”
“Ma’am!” Milo salutes. Candace shoved him lightly as she leaves, which makes him giggle. Melissa giggles too. “Ok, now you need to rest. Want the lights off?”
“Yeah.” Melissa says. Milo turns the lights off as she curls up in a sweaty, miserable, aching ball. “Will you stay?”
“If you want that, then obviously.”
Melissa settles down, aware that even through the fog that Milo is still there. And the last thing she notices before she passes out is that he stays, a comforting and silent presence, the entire time.