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Vessel felt very cold in his bed, although sweaty sheets clung to his skin, trapping him uncomfortably. He was lying in the dark, limbs heavy, exhausted down to his core. It was foolish to think sleep would help it wear off, when he started feeling unwell that morning, but he still tried. Sleep warned him it would be painful and Vessel feared this was only the beginning.
He jerked awake again later, his head pounding, entire body one bundle of pain as he tried to move into a more comfortable position. Vessel felt tears in his eyes at his helplessness, letting out a quiet sob against the deafening silence of the empty room. Unable to fall back asleep, he stared in front of himself, occasionally wincing when the pain intensified. He was too weak to move, feeing hot tears streak his face as his miserable wails filled the air. In his delirium, he couldn’t keep track of time, not even praying for it to end anymore, just trying to get through the moments as they came, before giving up entirely and wishing for any kind of release. During the worst of it, his voice left him, too, mouth open in silent screams, as his entire frame shook, unable to do anything, but endure the agony.
When Vessel woke up, his head hurt, a lot, he noticed, and as he moved, his limbs felt sore. No. Please, no. He felt confused and so, so drained, eyelids closing again, as they felt too heavy to keep open. No. A shiver ran up his spine as he tried to move under his blankets and a whimper stumbled out of him. He grew more and more distressed, the quiet and the late afternoon stillness doing nothing to ease his mind. His chest felt dull, and he trembled as he realized how weak he felt. He couldn’t do this. He wanted it to be over, crying earnestly now, letting out sobs and weeping with everything he had in him to not have this happen to him. He was bone-tired, he simply couldn’t take it. He didn’t notice the door open, nor the three figures rushing to his bed, didn’t hear them call out his name either. Vessel tried clearing his vision of teary blurriness, letting out a heavy breath when his mind eventually caught up, recognizing his others.
He wasn’t alone.
Vessel didn’t realize his distress sent signals down their bond, partners scrambling upstairs in alarm. All he could do was cry, though, now in relief, and the others didn’t understand his jumble of emotions, all the hurt, desperate pleading and defeated acceptance, never having felt Vessel this upset before. They surrounded him, III crouching down at his face beside the bed, II sitting next to him on the edge, IV taking a seat behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder tentatively, hoping the touch would help ground him.
“Vessel? We’re here, love.” II immediately reached out, using one hand to cradle Vessel’s cheek, brushing sweaty hair from his forehead with the other. “What’s wrong?” The man let out a breathy sob, just as II took in his feverish skin. “Sleep, you’re burning up.” II looked up at III and IV. Vessel was fine that morning, not even having as much as a cough, and now here he was, shaking, with a temperature and very much upset, but clearly unable to find his voice to express it. All Vessel could do was continue to cry softly, breath catching in his chest as he tried to get air into his lungs. His tears were flowing steadily, as he blinked through them at his partners, trying to use the comfort their bonds provided to ground himself from his nightmare. He wasn’t alone, and this wasn’t his change. Probably. Even if it was, he wasn’t alone, wails and screams echoing in the room, like mocking laughs, amused by his suffering.
“Everywhere hurts.” Vessel finally found his voice to croak out the words. A chill ran down his spine, prompting IV to rub his back, feeling the sweat-cold sheets sticking to Vessel. He was still sniffling, tears flowing slower now, gaining reassurance from the steady flow of affection and the others’ presence. III took his hand, playing with his fingers, a welcome distraction from how Vessel felt like he had been hit by a truck.
“I think you’re sick, darling. I’m not sure what happened, but we can talk about it later. Let’s run you a nice bath first, yeah?” III ran his thumb along Vessel’s palm, glancing up at the other two, who just nodded, heading to the connected bathroom to prepare the bath. Vessel gave a small nod, and III helped him sit up, checking his temperature in the process, then guiding the weak man to the bathroom. Once they got rid of the clamminess clinging to Vessel’s skin, he got settled back into his bed again, II having changed the sheets while the others helped Vessel clean up. There were painkillers and warm tea on his nightstand, as well as a thermometer and a box of tissues.
When he was adequately bundled up tightly in blankets, hugging the edges to his chest, Vessel spoke up in a weary voice. “I had a nightmare about my change. About screaming in pain until my voice was gone. When I woke up, I thought I was back then.” All alone. They heard it, without him adding. Understood why he was so distressed and why it reverberated through the bond like it did.
“Oh, baby. I’m sorry.” IV pressed a kiss to Vessel’s shoulder, brushing along his back in soothing motions. “We felt you wake up and get upset and panicky all of a sudden. I could sense it clearly all the way from the front yard, it was so strong.” IV looked at Vessel, eyes all tenderness, compassion clear in the bond, offering it to quell the other’s remaining uneasiness.
“You literally sounded alarm bells through the bond, it was so intense.” III confirmed, soft eyes on Vessel’s face, a sad smile playing on his lips as he tried to keep his bond balanced, not letting his quiet heartache seep through to Vessel. They all hated thinking about how their partner had to endure his transformation alone, even after Vessel felt comfortable enough to share some of his memories of the time. Comparing those with their own fuzzy ones and factoring in that Vessel was there to help them through all the misery and make sure they were as comfortable as they could be, it was hard not to feel almost guilty for having the support they did, even if it was a little silly, since they couldn’t have done anything about it. As Vessel always said, that time had passed, they shouldn’t worry themselves over it, he was fine now. When they tried to point out that he endured inhumane suffering without any help or company for who knows how long and had to carry on for months after, until II came along, Vessel went silent. They all knew that time had its effects on him, but they also knew it didn’t help to bring it up again and again, just to reopen those wounds. The best they could do was continue to prove to Vessel that he would never have to be alone and neglected again, even if he thought he deserved it sometimes. II’s voice shook III out of his thoughts.
“My love, I think you have the flu. You must have caught it when we went shopping the other day.” II said, tucking the blankets further up to the man’s neck and as Vessel tried to think clearly for a minute, he realized his ever-observant partner was probably right. There were a lot of people coughing and sneezing all over the place and they were well-into flu season.
“So that means lots of rest, right?” IV asked, and II just nodded.
“And plenty of tea.”
“With lemon?” Vessel asked in a raspy voice.
“With lemon. And ginger.” II smiled, already compiling a list in his head, so that he could cook a hearty broth. “IV, love, do you wanna go on a quick trip to the shop with me and help me cook?”
“Sure.” IV squeezed Vessel’s shoulder once more and stood up, stepping into his own room to get ready. II got up to leave as well, III still sitting by Vessel’s side.
“Don’t you dare, III.” II warned as he stood, once again smoothing the covers around Vessel and saw that the other had no intention of leaving their partner’s side. “You can sit over there, but please try not to get sick, if you can help it, darling.” He sounded pleading, for a good reason: III almost always got sick if one of them was, not necessarily due to a weak immune system, rather the fact that he refused to leave their side most of the time, falling asleep with them, proceeding with touches and hugs, unconcerned by contagion. And then he acted all innocent and very, very dramatic when he was ill, especially if he was gently ordered to sleep, even if the others made sure not to leave him alone then, either.
“Yeah, flu’s not fun, love.” Vessel croaked, nodding towards the armchair across from the bed. “Remote’s yours.” He offered and III gladly accepted, plopping down in the chair, already looking at the selection. II left the room after pressing a kiss to Vessel’s hair and one to III’s forehead, praying to Sleep he’ll sit this one out. When he closed the door behind him, he could just catch as III blew a kiss to Vessel from his seat in the chair, the latter letting out a stuffy snicker, but still sticking out one arm from under his blanket to catch it.