Chapter Text
“Maybe you can fix something. I know my Jegg almost did.”
Jegg had never wanted to be back in Cumton more. Despite interuniversal travel not being too high on her list of weird things to happen to her, it left her thinking.
Seeing the world completely withered away was jarring, to say the least. Seeing another version of Draw confused about every word said to love was worse. To see love scared of the woman in front of love-- to hear Draw ask if Jegg was going to hurt love--
It wasn’t something that sat well with Jegg. It wasn’t something that sat well with Jegg at all .
Jegg wouldn’t hurt their friends-- not unless there was a very very good reason to. And even thinking to what they’d seen-- miles of withering and a defeated Draw-- They couldn’t think of a single reason they’d hurt Draw.
There wasn’t a single thing Draw would do that couldn’t be explained away. If Draw let the world die under its fingertips, it was certainly going to be because of Death or Trashy and not out of its own accord, it didn’t matter what that other Draw had done on her own. If Draw further isolated itself and never showed its face around Cumton again, it would be because of their ability to spread the withering. If Draw spent more and more time with Trashy, it was because they were horsemen and because Trashy got under its skin like nothing else.
Draw could do anything and Jegg wouldn’t think poorly of them. Even the idea of seeing Draw as someone other than a kind person having their hand forced pulled at something in Jegg’s chest.
Jegg was only a few days travel away from home. Fatigue pulled at her eyes as she set up camp for what should have been the night. In reality, it was closer to noon than sunset and she hadn’t been traveling for long.
They’d accepted that they’d started getting sick a few days back, feeling warm to the touch and losing energy quickly, but hadn’t thought it would get this bad. They thought they still had a few more days until they were borderline bed bound, not just one and a half.
She blamed it on the sheer amount of travel she’d done. Between going to the coordinates, seeing another universe, and somehow spending time in the capital, she figured her body was giving out from the stress.
And even if Jegg went home to Draw being slightly worse than before— as love tended to be if left alone with Trashy— they still looked forward to going home to love. And their mutual friends, of course, but there was a little more excitement for Draw over anyone else.
That was a more recent realization- that Jegg almost always wanted to see Draw the most. She’d never really considered if her and Draw were closer than- say, her and Benni or Solar- but it was in the forefront of her mind since meeting that other Draw.
The stress of being asked personally to help Draw should have been a lot. Hell, it should have been there . But something akin to pride swelled in Jegg’s chest at the idea that only they could really help. Only they were close enough to Draw to get them to stop.
Draw trusted them the most. Draw spent the most time with them.
Jegg was sure Draw missed her. Jegg almost hoped that Draw missed her. She hoped it wasn’t worried— seeing as she hadn’t said much before leaving for what was very quickly becoming an extended period of time.
They sighed and unrolled their sleeping bag as their thoughts turned to mush. Realistically, they shouldn’t be this tired, and something felt wrong , but it was so easy to chalk it up to whatever fever they had as they started coughing right before drifting off to sleep.
Jegg stirred at the feeling of blunt fingernails tracing down her back. She was warm and tucked under soft blankets with someone behind her. She felt better than she had when she’d fallen sleep. Significantly better.
“Finally ready to wake up?” A soft voice chuckled behind them. “It’s not often I’m up before you.”
Jegg rolled over, feeling the person remove their hand from off their back. “I’ve been tired.” They opened their eyes to look at the person fully.
Jegg was home, that much was obvious from the mountain of pillows and blankets cocooning herself and the person with her, but she almost didn’t recognize the person in front of her.
Almost.
Silver eyes traced over Jegg’s features as a tanned, unwithered hand reached up to do the same. A few stray curls peeked out of a black bonnet that was slightly twisted from sleep.
“Draw?” Jegg sat up fully. “What— What happened?”
“What do you mean?” Draw asked. “What happened when?”
“Your hands. And your eyes. You’re not— You’re not withered anymore?”
“Jegg, we took care of that ages ago.” Draw chuckled nervously. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I…Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I think I was running a fever last night…”
Draw wrapped an arm around Jegg’s waist and pulled her close. Love pressed her cheek to Jegg’s forehead for a beat before kissing the skin. “You’re a little warm, I think. Not enough to disorient you like this.
“Do you want to talk to Benni and Aroben? I think they’re better equipped than I am.”
“Uhm…” Jegg hummed. “No. No, I think I’ll be fine. Maybe just some more time in bed. I think that’ll be enough.”
Draw smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to Jegg’s lips. “Whatever you want, starlight. I’ll be right here when you’re ready to wake up.”
Jegg snuggled back into bed, smiling wide after the kiss. She felt a hand run through her hair and heard Draw start to hum just as she started drifting off.
And coughing. Rough, deep chest coughs that shook her frame and—
— Woke her right from her sleep.
Jegg shot up in her cold sleeping bag, coughing up what felt like a solid chunk of mucus caught in her throat. Any attempts to breathe in were futile as whatever was blocking her airway didn’t move.
They pounded on their chest and cupped a hand around their mouth to not splatter mucus on their belongings.
Whatever was in their throat dislodged after quite a struggle, coating Jegg’s hand in something warm and something that was not mucus.
Jegg pulled her hand away and stared at what was cupped in it.
Mucus, yes, but not a lot of it. Not enough of it, to Jegg’s horror.
Crimson red blood coated her hand and a few petals of a blue orchid.
The gasp that left their mouth was more than just an attempt to catch their breath. The quickly declining health made sense. The shortness of breath made sense. The constant and confusing feelings in their chest made sense.
Yet somehow, the loudest thought was about how blue orchids were Draw’s favorite flower.
Jegg hadn’t known that. Jegg didn’t know that. The only flower she associated Draw with was a wither rose, no matter how unfair that association was.
Jegg took shaky breaths as wiped their hand off on the ground. This could not be how she found out that that was Draw’s favorite flower. This had to be over someone else, dream be damned.
There was no denial that she loved Draw, no. That realization didn’t cross her mind.
What did become physically— painfully — obvious was that Draw didn’t love them . Not right then.
Hanahaki wasn’t spontaneous. It wasn’t over simple crushes not being returned. Jegg was hopelessly in love and there wasn’t a chance Draw loved her back.
“It’s not over Draw.” Jegg scrubbed at their tired eyes. “It’s not- it can’t be. She-“
But maybe leaving her alone with Trashy as her neighbor and no one who’d truly invite her to leave her house was enough. Jegg had no idea how long they’d been gone talking to that other Draw. It could’ve been weeks. It could’ve been months .
It could’ve been years.
Draw probably felt abandoned. Draw had probably spent the whole time Jegg was away rotting in loves house or being gaslit by Trashy over Jegg’s disappearance. Draw probably thought it was loves fault.
Jegg forced herself out of her sleeping bag despite shaky arms, legs, everything . They had to figure out what happened. They had to talk to Draw.