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Sam's voice cracks when he's directing Jody towards an abandoned bookshop. That's how it begins.
"All right, Runner Four, you're doing great. It looks like you're right near-"
His voice dips and falls short on the 'near,' and he stops, coughs experimentally for a second, then says, "Right near the shop now. Just a bit further."
Jody's silent for a minute. Sam taps the monitor. "Runner Four, do you read?" God, he loves saying that.
"Yes, sorry, Sam, I heard you," she says, because all the runners refuse to say 'I read.' Because runners are zero fun. "It's just- are you feeling okay?"
"Me? Yeah, fine. A-okay. All right, turn left, you've got a couple zoms in the other direction-"
"No, I'm serious," Jody says. "Are you sick?"
He rolls his eyes, because unless grey plague can be caught by sharing air now (no, no, delete that thought,) how could he possibly not be fine. "Yes, Runner Four, I am perfectly, absolutely fine. No need to focus on the mission or zombies or anything, though, let's keep discussing my health."
"Sheesh, sorry, keep your pants on," Jody says, and manages to cram four hardcovers and eleven paperbacks into her bag before she has to bolt.
xxxx
After that, his throat starts to really, really hurt.
Back in pre-apocalypse days, if your throat hurt, you got some juice, you take a pill, you're fine. But there is no more juice to be found literally anywhere, and you don't get pills unless you're bleeding out. Not to mention water is rationed and 'my throat hurts' just doesn't seem to fly with the food storage people.
So, he is exceptionally grateful for Runner Five when she gives him a half-full water bottle along with her headset after a run.
"Just don't tell Maxine," she says. "She'd probably let me die of dehydration rather than let me share a water bottle."
"Five," he says, kind of touched and a little concerned by the fact that Maxine's priorities are clearly out of order, "I can't take-"
"I'm fine," she said. "Runners get plenty of water, trust me. I'm good. You, on the other hand, sound like you stumbled out of a crime scene. I thought it was my headset going funny, but it's actually just you sounding terrible."
He figures the water bottle is her substitute for sympathy.
"Drink it," she says. "Seriously. If I have to listen to your claws-on-a-chalkboard voice again, I'll hire Sara to assassinate you."
"What will you hire her with?" Sam says. "She won't be cheap."
Runner Five runs a hand through her hair. "I don't know," she said. "I'd find a way. So drink it, okay? And take a break or something. Have Janine take over."
She leaves before he can fully compute that maybe she's genuinely concerned.
The water tastes a little metallic, but it's cool, and it makes his throat less achy for a few hours.
xxxx
It dies when he's operating, naturally.
Janine's being her usual bossy self behind him as usual. "All right, Runner Five, you're looking good. Now if you just take the turn there you should-"
"Would you stop that?" he croaks, because the damned head cold hasn't gone away. "Seriously. But yeah, Five, take the left there."
"You need to take a break," Five says, sounding a little annoyed. "Good God, Sam, you sound like you're about to die."
Janine chuckles, and Sam scowls. "Yeah, thanks for that, Five. Anyway, there are- oh-"
There's a horde of maybe twenty zombies on the other end of the corner Runner Five's heading up. He grabs the mic. "Runner-"
And that's it. Voice is gone. Show's over, go on home folks, nothing to see here.
Thank God, Runner Five freezes in her tracks. "Sam?" she says, and she sounds freaked, genuinely panicked. "Sam? Are you there?"
Sam never thought he'd be grateful for Janine's backseat driving, but while he makes several exaggerating gestures towards his throat, she grabs the mic from him. "Runner Five, you need to turn around, take another path in. There's a zoms horde straight ahead of you."
Five, bless her, does as she's told, but once she's at a safe distance, asks, "What happened to Sam? Is he okay?"
"Mr. Yao appears to have lost his voice," Janine says, looking more amused than worried as Sam coughs and breathes deep in a futile effort to regain his vocal cords' function. "He's here with me, and he's fine. Mr. Yao, go report to Dr. Myers."
He makes a protesting gesture at the screen, where Runner Five is still halfway through a mission.
"Now," Janine says, in her scary this-is-my-house-peasant voice, and he slouches shamefully out of the comms shack and to the hospital.
xxxx
Maxine can't stop laughing. He's not sure if it's because he's lost his only useful ability or because of his righteous indignation about it.
"Sorry, Sam," she says, still chuckling. "Sorry. But- looks like you have a bit of laryngitis."
He tries to convey 'who even gets laryngitis in the middle of a zombie apocalypse' with facial expressions, and he must have done an okay job because Maxine gives him a pitying look- belied a little by her giggling- and sighs.
"Well, I wish I could give you proper medicine, but for now you should just take these-" she hands him two small pills that look like Tylenol and not like magical voice-restoring fairy herbs- "and drink lots of water. And absolutely no talking until you feel one hundred percent better."
There's a good amount of flailing at that.
"I mean it," Maxine says sternly. "I'm sure we can get someone to take over as an operator while you heal. Janine maybe."
More flailing.
"It'll be fine," she says, like she believes it, which is nice and most likely faked. "No one's going to-"
Runner Five bursts through the doors, a very full bag thunking against her back, and skids to a halting stop. "Sam?" she says, looking kind of frantic, and Maxine bursts into giggles all over again. Sam waits patiently until she comes to a stop, while Runner Five looks on, unimpressed.
"He's fine," Maxine manages at last. "He's just got a touch of laryngitis is all."
"Oh," Runner Five says, sparing him a glance. "You've lost your voice?"
He nods, dejectedly.
"Serves you right," she says, because there is not a kind soul in all of Abel Township. "I told you to take a break- oh, yeah, Doctor, I have supplies for you."
She digs through her bag and produces a slightly crushed package of bandages, a couple of bottles of pain meds, and a battered first aid kit.
"I found some crutches, but I had to drop them," she says, apologetically. "Because Sam ditched me halfway through a mission-" he totally doesn't deserve the scathing glare she sends him- "Janine led me into a bunch of potentially lethal dead ends."
Sam points at Runner Five, widening his eyes in Maxine's direction. Maxine gives another long-suffering sigh.
"Okay," she says. "Maybe Janine's not the best substitute. I'll see if I can convince Jack or Eugene to take over."
If Sam still had control over his larynx, he would have screamed in frustration.
"Runner Five, would you mind accompanying Sam back to his bunk, where he's going to lay down and rest-" he glares at her, and would have stuck out his tongue if it wouldn't have probably hurt- "so you can explain the bad news?"
He tries to convey that he is not five using exaggerated gestures and facial expressions, but it either doesn't work or they both ignore him, because Runner Five just nods and says, "Sure, Doctor. Thank you."
They leave Maxine to examine her new goods in peace.
Once the door closes, Runner Five turns to him, and she looks really scary for a second and he braces himself, but then he's wrapped in a strangling hug and wow she has a really tight grip.
"You scared me," she says, very very quietly. "I thought- well. I'm glad you're okay."
He feels like it was either going to be a hug or a punch in the face, so he decides to be grateful and tentatively wraps his arms around her.
He shouldn't have bothered, because literally a second later she extracts herself and smooths her hair back from her face.
"Come on," she says, and she's grinning now, unsympathetic evil thing that she is, "we have to get you to your bunk. You clearly need to rest and not speak for days."
He punches her in the arm, and she punches him right back.
xxxx
"No, he's fine," Five says, and she's very clearly done saying this over and over- at least Sam assumes so, with the way she has one hand on his doorframe and the other on her hip. "He's not contagious, it should go away in a few days. Of course runners will still go out. Okay- okay, yeah, see you tomorrow."
She slams the door shut, hopefully not in somebody's face, and comes to sit down next to where he's pitifully spread out on his bunk.
"You better not be contagious," she says. "I don't actually know if you are or not. I just don't want everyone to start panicking."
He shrugs and makes a moaning sound low in his throat. It hurts more than it was worth.
She shoves him, gently. "Don't do that, you're not making it any better," she says, but her voice is softer, and her hand lingers in his shoulder. "Does it hurt?"
He shakes his head, then nods minutely. It's just pathetic, that's what it is. He's thinking about how to tell her he just doesn't like feeling useless without speaking when she reaches into her bag and pulls out a full, clean bottle of water, with one of those dissolving powder packets of something that looks delicious.
He sits up.
"Don't tell Maxine," she says, and she doesn't look a little guilty, "because I'll definitely get in trouble this time."
He shakes his head vehemently, because hey, irresponsibility may be tempting right now, but it feels weird to have Runner Five be the bad-decision-maker instead of him.
"Shut up," she snaps, which is redundancy gold but sadly goes uncommented on. "They would give you some themselves, but they just don't have enough. Keep it with you for now, I need to go and have Maxine check me for bites. I'll bring you some food later. Sleep, okay? You need to get better."
He reluctantly takes the bottle when she wraps his hands around it and puts it under his pillow, then lies back down on his side.
She scowls at him, then says threateningly, "You better not be contagious," and leans down and kisses him where hair meets skin, just by his ear. Then she stands up and makes her leave, shaking out her hair behind her as she goes.
He hopes being sick isn't going to last long, but he's starting to estimate in his head how long he can fake it.
xxxx
If Sam had to say what the worst feeling in the world was, without actually experiencing physical pain (though there was enough physical pain to be getting on with,) it had to be the feeling of lying sick in bed with only a taped-up wall between you and hardworking folk.
Runner Five brings him breakfast, already dressed, sweaty, and panting.
"Here," she says, leaving the tray on his bedside table while he looks balefully up at her. "Sorry, but I have to move fast. Janine already called me out five minutes ago, and if I'm late she'll probably never let you be my comms operator again."
She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small portable radio. "I got one of these from the rec center for you," she says. "So don't go anywhere, okay? Stay here and rest."
He tries to explain to her that it won't make him feel better to just lie there and contemplate his life and current state of affairs (considering it doesn't take much contemplation in the first place to realize things couldn't be much worse,) but she just rolls her eyes at him, drops a kiss to his forehead, and runs out.
After lying there for a minute feeling sorry for himself, he rolls over and switches on the radio, tuning it delicately. It's in bad shape and the antenna is a little crooked, but eventually he hears Jack's voice.
"Good morning, listeners, and what a beautiful morning it is too."
"It's raining."
"Just a lovely day to be alive, isn't it. All right, we're going to start you early risers off with some music-"
"But before we do that, we've heard many rumors about the current state of our favorite comms operator, a Mr. Samuel Yao. Don't fear, listeners, despite what you may have heard, he has neither been dragged off nor zombified."
"Or both."
"Or both. Sam is just suffering from a mild case of laryngitis right now-"
"In some twisted joke of irony's creation-"
"Yes, well. This song goes out to Sam. Feel better soon, man."
A song Sam has never heard before starts up, and he pulls the covers up to his chin, crossing his arms over them.
Of course this kind of sick day couldn't have happened in college.
xxxx
Maxine brings him lunch.
"Hey there, hon," she says. "Feeling any better?"
He groans and flops around in a dazzling impression of a five-year-old not getting their way.
Maxine hums sympathetically and touches a cool hand to his forehead. "You are getting better, for what it's worth," she says. "Long as you keep your mouth shut, you ought to be all right in a day or two."
She gives him what looks like an attempt at a grilled cheese (it's just cheese semi-melted on top of a bread slice, but at least they tried.) He sits up and bites into it. She smiles at him.
"I miss your voice," she says. "Everyone does. They miss you, too, but I told them to leave you alone till you feel better."
He sort of grunts and gestures towards the door. She smiles pityingly. "I know it's boring," she says. "But unless you want to be like this for a week- this is the fastest way of getting better. Once your throat feels better, give talking a try again."
He gives a head jerk to indicate I know, I know.
"Janine's doing all right," Maxine offers. "As operator. Everyone's been okay so far. She's been working hard all day. She's not as good as you are, though."
He shrugs. Of course.
"All the runners miss you, though," Maxine says, giving him a glass of water. "They've been saying so all day. Especially Five."
He raises his eyebrows over the glass.
"Okay, she hasn't been saying she misses you," Maxine says. "But she does, she really does. It's obvious. She's been out all day, otherwise I'm sure she'd have come visited by now. She was the one who reminded me to bring you lunch. Not that I would've forgotten."
He slowly lowers his eyebrows and grins at her. She grins right back, and tousles his hair for some reason.
"We're falling apart without you, Sam," she says. "Focus on getting better. You don't want to miss Demons and Darkness night, do you?"
He shakes his head vigorously.
"I didn't think so," she says. "So heal up quick."
She leaves.
He turns the radio back on and eats the rest of his melty cheese bread in excruciating silence.
xxxx
Five is back to deliver his dinner, her skin damp and cool from running all day, still in her running garb.
"Hey!" she says, a little breathlessly. "Sorry if I'm a bit late, had a bit of a scare by the old department store- you know where I'm talking about, right?"
He nods, making grabby hands at the food. She grins and pushes it towards him. She must have had a good day.
"How're you doing?" she asks, tugging at her hair tie and grimacing as it holds firm. "Did you have a good day? Feeling better? Maxine says you were cooler."
He shrugs and takes a long drink, then sighs contentedly.
"Oh, well, thanks for clearing that up," she says, and he rolls his eyes at her and points at his throat. She makes a face at him, then grins in victory after wresting the tie from her hair. She shakes it out, and uh, wow.
He's sure he's making some kind of face, because she catches his gaze and grins, pleased.
"I'm sorry if today was boring for you," she said. "Maxine said you were kind of- I don't know. Burnt out. Through boredom."
He raises an eyebrow at her, and she scowls at him.
"Shut up, I've been working with Janine all day. She sort of crushes clever in her path."
He groans- he'd forgotten about Janine- and buries his face in his pillow. After a minute, he feels a hand on his back, and exhales deeply when it digs in.
"Hurry up on the getting better thing," she says, quietly. "It's not any good without you."
He makes some sort of upside-down head gesture that he hopes conveys agreement, then sighs.
After a minute, she says, "Do you want me to tell you about my day, or just be quiet for-"
He nods emphatically, rolling over and widening his eyes. She smiles a little, then starts off.
"I was paired off with Maggie to check out this abandoned convenience store, right? Janine said it was supposed to be greenlighted, but you know, I don't know if she's just ignorant or purposefully trying to get us killed."
xxxx
He blinks lazily awake, and sunlight is filtering dimly through his window. (Actually it's not a window, it's a hole in the wall with an oversized glass shard shoved into it, but it's good enough to pass as one.)
He's kind of overwarm, and his arm really kind of hurts, and he's sleeping on his back- he never sleeps on his back. He turns his head to the left.
Runner Five is collapsed there, sound asleep, on top of his arm- still in her running clothes, hair a sprawling mess. He stares at her for a few seconds.
After a minute, he remembers her being there when he fell asleep, still going on about Janine's inadequacy at being a comms operator. She must have stayed, and eventually just fallen asleep.
He stretches minutely, and all his muscles- which are apparently so lame at being muscles that a day in bed turns them to jelly- moan and protest. His knees crack, and he groans.
When he does, it doesn't hurt.
He stops, frozen in a kind of awkward position, and gives a cough. That doesn't hurt either.
He says his name. It comes out kind of dusty and crackly, but it still comes out. He sits up.
Runner Five stirs, blinking and stretching herself awake, and looks up at him through slanted eyes. "Sam?" she mutters.
"I love you," he croaks out.
Her eyes widen.
Within seconds she's knocked him off the bed, her arms around his neck.
He probably won't be able to operate for another couple of days, but it'll be worth it to leave the godawful bunk.
And maybe backseat drive for Janine. Just a bit.