Chapter Text
Microphone felt a little awkward in her room, despite her dislike for her roommate the space felt a lot emptier and almost hostile without the green-haired girl, evidence of her existence scattered around in the form of loose science equipment and lab coats that left her side looking like a high school science classroom yet there was no actual scientist to speak of and there hadn't been one all day, or for much of yesterday now that she was really thinking about it. That probably just meant she was off doing some important project that required a real lab and a lack of sleep, so Microphone should probably also vacate the room to avoid running into a grumpy and sleep-deprived Test Tube, she got up from the bed and grabbed her lighter and a box of cigarettes from a drawer before exiting the room. She walked slightly louder than normal as she allowed her annoyance and slight anger to filter through each step just enough to be loud but not so much that she was stomping through the halls, she would never be able to get over how bad OJ could be at organizing roommates, over half of the hotel had submitted way too many complaints about their roommates and, still, nothing had changed. She knew there were worse people to be roomed with but Test Tube? Really?? It was like walking on eggshells whenever she wanted to chill in her room when the other woman was there.
Microphone rushed up the stairs knowing that the elevator didn't make it up to the roof, and the elevator music was ear-bleeding, she opened the door with some struggle and swiftly walked to the edge where she sat down and pulled out a cigarette, she tried to light it but her lighter only made a few clicks with not even a spark to follow. She grumbled under her breath and put the lighter away, staring at the unlit cigarette in her hand and then out at the scenery below, she sighed as she scooted forward to try and get slightly more comfortable.
"You're-" Microphone yelped at the voice, dropping her cigarette over the edge and realizing how close she was to following it down, she quickly scooted back and stood back up before turning around to see who else was there; Paintbrush watched her curiously, easel fully set up, Microphone wondered how she had not noticed them "Okay good" they mumbled, their voice sounded croaky and strained.
"Are you okay?" Microphone queried with concern, Paintbrush glanced over and sniffled
"Yeah" They went back to their painting of the view, Microphone looked at the artwork before questioning the blonde further.
"You look horrible"
"Thanks" Paintbrush smirked slightly then coughed into their elbow, a long bout of coughs that sounded pretty painful, "Test Tube says I'm bedridden or something so I'm hiding from her, she thinks I'm scared of heights so she won't look for me up here" as Microphone continued to observe the painter she noticed the slight shivering of their body and the dark bags under their eyes, their eyelids dropping every so often and remaining closed for a few seconds before Paintbrush would force them open again to stare at their canvas.
"Maybe you should go back to bed" She grabbed their shaking wrist and took the paintbrush out of their hand, expecting much more of a fight they received "Or maybe sit down?" Paintbrush scoffed
"I'll sit for a bit if you're so insistent, I'm not going to pass out if that's what you're worried about" The two of them sat down by the edge, Microphone automatically reached for her cigarette box before remembering that he lighter didn't work, so here she was just starring at another unlit cigarette with some embarrassment heating up her face "Here" Paintbrush reached out and summoned a small flame at their finger, they lit Microphone's cigarette and her eyes widened.
"I thought that only happened when you were angry? And only to your hair" Microphone couldn't help the small smile on her face as Paintbrush chuckled but it quickly dropped as the kind chuckles turned into aggressive coughing, the flame dancing around their fingers turned into a blaze on their hand as they tried to calm the coughing fit, soon the coughing died down and they sat up straight again with a dazed look on their face.
"Eugh. Ow" they mumbled to themself, wiping the spit and phlegm from their apron with a look of disgust, they both stayed silent for a bit and the air between them started to grow awkward, it only just started to hit Microphone that she barely knew Paintbrush; hell, up until this point she was under the impression that they hated her, being friends with Test Tube and all. The uncomfortable silence was soon broken by the painter "That doesn't happen every time" they alleged, their tone somehow filled with more awkwardness than the previous sentence "The fire- that was because I already had some in my hand" Microphone looked back at her cigarette, still smoking and unused, she slightly sighed before standing up and stamping it out then she grabbed Paintbrush by the arm and pulled them too their feet, they swayed unsteadily until finally finding their balance and watching Microphone curiously.
"What-"
"Go to bed." she pointed to the doorway leading back inside, Paintbrush stayed in their spot, and the two stood in silence until Microphone became fed up and grabbed them, lifting them to a bridal carry and heading towards the door.
"Uh!? My stuff! It's going to get wrecked" Paintbrush squirmed in her arms and their hair had a dangerous glow to it, Microphone looked back at the canvas which was mostly blank, and decided it likely wasn't safe to be left out here, she put Paintbrush back on their feet and walked to the art set up with them as they began to try and pack it away. She mostly watched the other clean up their stuff, washing their paintbrushes and walking to the edge of the roof to pour out the dirty paint water, giving Microphone some anxiety considering their shaking and unsteadiness; they placed all their paints and brushes into a bag then put the strap around their shoulder then grabbed the canvas and handed it to her "I don't get why you care so much" they commented, packing up the easel and picking it up.
"What do you mean?" she followed Paintbrush through the stairwell, trying to be careful to not get wet paint on herself. "I'm going to care if someone gets sick! Especially if they spend that time being sick on a rooftop"
"Right." They seemed unsatisfied but didn't push any further, the walk continued in silence until they reached Paintbrush's bedroom door, she opened it and held it for them to walk in. She closed the door and then looked around for a place to set the canvas down when she noticed Paintbrush setting up their easel again, she was quick to place the canvas down against the wall and then turned back to the sick artist.
"What are you doing??" Microphone snapped, rushing over and pulling the weakened painter away from their setup.
"You said you were worried because I was on a roof while I was sick" they practically spat, seeming annoyed by Microphone's constant interventions but not physically resisting, a small thought wriggled into her mind, thinking that maybe they felt too weak to put up a fight.
"No." She quickly responded, "I'm worried because you're refusing to rest when you have a fever" She pulled them all the way over to their bed and made them lie down, pulling the covers over them and glaring at them as they tried to resist "I'm going to get you some medicine! Don't move" she exited the room swiftly, grabbing Paintbrush's water bottle, and headed to the elevator, usually she'd rather bash her head into a wall then deal with the music but right now was a mild emergency so some suffering would be endured for a quicker journey, she stuck her fingers in her ears and the elevator descended to the lobby. She entered the kitchen and looked through the medicine cupboards, throat soothers, Panadol, and cough medicine; yeah that all seemed right, does soup actually help with sickness, or is that a myth? Does Paintbrush like soup? Whatever. She began to make some quick microwave tomato soup, as that cooked in the microwave she filled up Paintbrush’s bottle and added some ice, which made her think of tea, she's pretty sure tea helped too so she grabbed a mug and began to do that too before getting distracted by the microwave beeping, she didn't focus on where she put the mug until she grabbed the soup and turned around just to knock the mug off the bench, watching it shatter and spill it's contents across the floor "FU-!"
"What's going on!?" Test Tube huffed as she looked at the mess Microphone had made
"Hey, can you clean this up, I need to get this stuff to Paintbrush" She grabbed everything and thought that she could get Paintbrush some tea later, she ignored Test Tube even as her beratement turned into questioning of the artist's location then claims that she should be the one taking care of them and not Mic. Microphone hurried into the elevator again and was trying hard not to drop or spill the soap in her hand, she couldn't imagine anyone would be happy about a spill in there, she came to realize that holding hot soup while being in a rush should be considered an extreme sport when she ran down the hallway and came incredibly close to tripping on a decorative plant (For fucks sake, OJ, hallways should not be decorated with plants!!) but she managed to reach her destination with only a few drops spilled.
She took some struggle to open the door and braced herself to force Paintbrush back to bed but was pleasantly surprised to find them lying down scrolling on their phone, Microphone approached and carefully set everything down on the bedside table "Okay. Have the cough medicine first, then take two Panadol with either the soup or water then have a throat soother once you finish the soup." Paintbrush gave her an odd look but obliged, drinking the spoonful of cough medicine and entering a coughing fit before taking two Panadol with some water then beginning the soup, Microphone gave them a nervous smile as they ate "I wasn't sure if you like tomato soup but that's all that was there"
"Eh" they give a shrug "Not a big fan but it's fine" They sipped at the soup slowly, clearly burning their mouth but doing nothing about it, Mic decided to just leave them be since she had already given them enough shit about their lack of self-care.
"So..." Microphone felt awkward now, wanting to help Paintbrush but no longer having anything to do, they had been fed, given water, and medicine, what now? Paintbrush looked at her as they waited for the sentence to continue, when it didn’t, they turned back to the soup and just stared at it before eventually thinking of something to say.
"I don't hate you"
"Huh!? Where'd that come from?" Microphone tried to give the most bewildered expression she could muster, she had been under the impression that Paintbrush hated her previously but this whole situation had given her the idea that it wasn't hatred so much as it was just that they had no reason to get to know each other, Paintbrush and Microphone didn't have any mutual friends that she knew of.
"I don't know. I feel like Test Tube hates you, and... I don't. I'm sorry, this is stupid- uh, thanks." Paintbrush's hands glowed for a little while, they tried to reheat the soup a bit. A long silence drowned the two of them, Paintbrush set the bowl down and opened their hands, a small flame grew from their palm and slowly took the vague shape of a person... two people, they were dancing, Microphone was mesmerized by the display of skill and beautiful flames. Soon the flames started to flicker out as Paintbrush held back a coughing fit, once the flames diminished, they shoved their mouth against their elbow and started to cough, Microphone cringed at the intense bought of coughs, it sounded like Paintbrush was trying to cough up their lungs. They sat up properly and mumbled a quick "sorry" then grabbed their soup again, reheating it again and starting to sip at it again.
Paintbrush coughed into their soup, flinched at the liquid splashed on their face, and dropped the half-full bowl, spilling the soup all over their bed, they just sighed and stared at the mess with tired expressions, they started to climb out of bed and Mic was quick to grab their shoulders "Go lay on Fan's bed, I clean this up" Microphone started to strip the bed when she realized she should probably help Paintbrush with the soup all over their face and chest, she quickly ran into the bathroom to grab some toilet paper then began trying to clean up the artists face.
"Ack! Oi- Stop! Hey!!" Microphone smothered Paintbrush's face with the bundle of, now soup-soaked, toilet paper "Ah! Pfffffft- ew. Stop!"
"Hold still! You're covered in soup!!" The two continued to struggle until Microphone managed to get their face mostly clean, Paintbrush coughed for a while before they reached into their mouth and pulled out a shred of toilet paper
"You don't need to do this shit for me, I'm not that sick, it's just a cold" Paintbrush sniffled and wiped at their nose as they spoke
"I thought Test Tube said you're bedridden?"
"Sometimes Test Tube is wrong!"
"The scientist that made time travel possible?" This was getting more ridiculous by the second, Microphone couldn't fathom why Paintbrush so determined to make this difficult, even if it was just a cold they still needed to rest, or it wouldn't get better, why weren't they getting that?
"Yeah, I'm not sick with 'making time travel possible', sorry."
"You're talking a lot for someone with a sore throat"
"I never claimed to have a sore throat" They both fell silent, just staring at each other until Microphone finally gave a sour reply
"Fine. I don't know why I even wanted to help you, I'll let Test Tube deal with you" Microphone left the room, leaving Paintbrush's bed half-stripped, she grumbled to herself angrily as she stormed into her room and collapsed on her bed, now she was probably going to catch whatever the hell the other artist had without the satisfaction of Paintbrush recovering. Why did she even bother? She didn't know Paintbrush. They had friends who were perfectly happy to put up with their shit. She thought back to what Paintbrush had said around the start of this whole mess "I don't get why you care so much" Why did Microphone care so much? They were sick! Mic isn't heartless she'd help anyone who was sick, would she help Test Tube if she was sick? Maybe. She'd probably storm out a lot quicker though. It didn't even matter anymore, why was she so hung up on this? Why did it send a ripple of fear through her body to think that Paintbrush might hate her now? Why did shit like this happen to her?