Work Text:
Yellow stood, legs trembling, over his latest machine he had been working on. He didn't know why he had mentally declared he wouldn't take any breaks, but he certainly couldn't go back on the idea now.
Yellow's eyes were lidded, one hand on a clipboard, his free hand clutching his aching head that felt like it was throbbing every few seconds. He let out a sigh, kneeling down next to the machine so he wouldn't have to stand.
Muttering a few words under his breath, he reluctantly let go of his head to write some stuff down on his clipboard. He reached out towards the built contraption and flicked a switch.
Everything works fine..
Another switch,
perfect.
He presses a button,
no problems at all.
Yellow lets it run for a minute as he analyzes the effects of the machine, trying to see if it could stay flawless. When nothing smoked or sparked, he smiled lightly, satisfied with the outcome.
He took a quick glance up at a clock in his room. It read; 3:57AM. His throbbing head was like a taunt, reminding him of the effects of staying up this late.
Yellow gently stood, muttering a small "dammit.." to himself over the pain, before his eyes caught an interesting looking blueprint on the floor. He turned to grab it, until..
His throat suddenly felt like it was closing as Yellow thought he could physically feel himself heating up. 'What the hell?' He thought to himself, feeling too ill to talk out loud.
His head was practically screaming now, and Yellow couldn't focus on anything other than the pain. The more he focused, the worse it got, and..
Shit.
Yellow scrambled to turn off the machine, flicking all of the same switches and pressing the same buttons, before it turned off and Yellow dropped to his knees with a thud.
Bucket, bucket, he needs a bucket.. Yellow, through blurry vision tried to scan the room for anything that could hold the bile threatening its way out of his throat, and his eyes landed on just what he was looking for.
Yellow crawled toward the bucket, his limbs trembling as though they carried the weight of lead. Each movement felt like it took an eternity, his vision swimming as his stomach churned violently. The bucket was only a few feet away, but the distance might as well have been miles.
What the fuck was wrong with him? What was he thinking, staying up so damn late to do some useless crap. The others are going to be so mad at him..
Finally, his fingers wrapped around the bucket’s edge, just in time for his body to give in. He retched, clutching the bucket tightly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Tears pricked his eyes as waves of nausea rolled over him, his mind racing with fragmented thoughts. 'Why did I push myself this far? Why didn’t I stop?'
It felt so... painful.. as Yellow's stomach squeezed out whatever he had for dinner into liquid form. Yellow had to keep himself from letting out a sob, body shaking as his usually bright, warm color seemed to pale out. He let out a stifled groan, before he finally stopped, leaving him to clutch the bucket with trembling hands.
'Dammiiit...' He thought.
...
Green rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the grogginess. He had barely slept the night before, and the faint sound of creaking and groaning from Yellow's room wasn’t helping. The noise seemed to come in waves, and Green couldn't ignore it any longer.
“What is he doing?” Green mumbled to himself, blinking away the remnants of sleep. He knew Yellow often stayed up late, lost in his inventions, but this was different. The noises were frantic, almost desperate. Green rubbed his eyes, then slipped out of bed, padding quietly down the hall.
When he reached Yellow’s room, he found the door slightly ajar. Green pushed it open gently, realizing the lights were completely off in there. He flicked them on, eyes widening at the sight. Yellow was hunched over a bucket, already filled with throw-up, his face pale and drenched in sweat. His hands trembled as he held the bucket close to his chest like a lifeline, eyes glancing up at Green. He shook his head to the best of his ability, letting out a cry. "Li..light... off, pl..leease!" The intelligent stick figure sobbed, his glasses askew and caught in his messy hair.
“Yellow!” he exclaimed, rushing to his side. "What happened? Are you okay?" Yellow tried to wave him off but only managed a weak groan. His body betrayed him, trembling uncontrollably as he leaned back against the wall, clutching the bucket like a lifeline. “You’re burning up,” Green muttered, pressing a cool hand against his forehead. Panic flickered in him green eyes as he noticed the flushed hue of his face and the dark circles under his eyes. “You’re sick, and you look like you haven’t slept in days.”
Yellow mumbled something to himself, sounding akin to a quiet; "'m... s'rry..!" Trying not to finish the words to prevent himself with having to deal with the ache he got in his head every time he spoke. Green shook his head in a panic, standing up to go dim the lights like Yellow had asked, before returning and gently kneeling at his side, cupping his face in his hands. "Hey, don't you ever apologize, dude. It will be okay, I can go get some medicine from the bathroom, and-"
He was cut off by Yellow trying to jerk out of his grip, breathing fast as what seemed like another wave of bile was coming back up his throat. Green let go, standing up to grab some medicine from the bathroom as Yellow leaned over the bucket with a sob.
But just as Green stood to fetch supplies, Yellow’s breath hitched. His eyes darted around the room, unfocused, and his chest began to rise and fall rapidly. His hands gripped the bucket so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“Yellow?” Green knelt back down, his voice gentle but firm. "Hey, hey, look at me, man. Breathe, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Can you do that with me?" Yellow shook his head, panic written all over his face. He couldn’t. His thoughts were spiraling, the room felt too small, too hot, too overwhelming. His bile finally exited his throat again, into the bucket as the engineer loving stick figure looked up with pleading eyes, almost begging for help.
Green quickly left the room before returning with some medicine and a water. He set both aside as Yellow was still breathing heavily, his breath hitching as he finally stopped throwing up. "Here, let's breathe together, okay? In for four, hold for four, and out. Can you repeat after me?" He asked Yellow.
Yellow reluctantly nodded, breathing in, and out, Green sitting there all the while, almost like he had a personal coach for breathing. Green passed him the meds, Yellow taking them in his own trembling hands before popping one in his mouth, grabbing the water to chug it down. Green stopped him before he could finish the entire thing. "Hey, don't make it worse, man."
Yellow looked up at him, his vision still blurry but his gratitude clear. “Thanks... Green,” he murmured weakly. “Don’t thank me yet,” he said, standing up. “Let’s get you rested. No more machines for tonight, got it?” Yellow managed a faint nod, letting Green take charge. For once, he didn’t have the energy to argue.
Yellow sighed as Green scooped him up, walking him over to his bed and placing him down on it. A blanket was gracefully tucked over him, before Green dragged over a trash can. "Incase you need to throw up again," he explained to Yellow. He smiled warmly, turning to leave the room. "Well, I'll check on you later. Night, man."
Yellow grabbed his sleeve, keeping him from leaving. "Wait- I... stay for a bit..?" He asked awkwardly, arm still trembling. Green smiled, sitting down on the bed as he cradled Yellow's head in his hands.
"Okay."