Chapter Text
“Silverstreak?” Red Alert’s voice was soft as she spoke, and the Pixie found himself grateful, because his head was throbbing. “Are you awake?”
“Yes.” His voice was raspy and his throat dry and it hurt to speak, but he supposed he deserved it after keeping his plans secret from Prowl and the others.
“Good.” Before he opened his eyes, he could smell some kind of food and his stomach grumbled. “Sit up carefully so you can eat this soup. You need the nourishment and the liquid.”
Silverstreak nodded and opened his eyes before sitting up. The lights inside Red Alert’s tent were dim, lamps turned down as low as possible without making it too dark to see to navigate, and he was grateful for it. He couldn’t remember a time when his head had hurt like this, and the cut on his wrist was beginning to throb in time with the pain in his head. He hissed when he accidentally put pressure on the wound, and Red didn’t hesitate to reach out and support him so that he could straighten his wrist without falling back down. “Thanks.”
“You are welcome.” Once he was steady, Red held out the tiny bowl of soup she was holding in her free hand. “Eat. And then tell me how you are feeling.”
“Yes’m.” He nodded and took the bowl from her. The soup wasn’t overly flavorful, mostly some type of vegetable broth, but it felt wonderful on his sore throat as he sipped it from the bowl the way he would have a mug. When he was finished, he looked up at her hopefully, and asked, “Could I have more?”
“We should wait a few minutes, to be sure you won’t be sick. If it stays down, you may have more. After you have told me how you feel.”
“My head hurts. I don’t think it’s ever hurt this much, even after the time Skids hit me with the club.” Silverstreak leaned more heavily against her hand. “And I’m exhausted. My throat hurts. My wrist hurts, probably as much as my head. And I’m cold.”
Red Alert nodded. “You’ve been sleeping for three days, so the headache is likely from dehydration and lack of food. I will give you a painkiller for it and your wrist. The soreness in your throat is also likely from lack of water. The cold, though…”
She gave him a thoughtful frown as she reached for the edge of the blanket he had been wrapped in before he sat up. “I don’t think I like the way you said that.”
“The cold may be permanent.” Red Alert sighed softly. “Blaster said that the spell took some of your magic, and you will suffer some side effects because of the loss.”
“Oh.” Blaster had told him to expect some ill effects, but he hadn’t know what to warn him about. But he supposed there were worse things than being cold all the time. “Could be worse. I’d still do it again.”
“None of us would allow it to happen a second time.” Red tucked the blanket around him, and Silverstreak felt instantly better. Not warm-warm, but comfortable. “There may be more effects in the future. Neither my mentor nor I know what to expect from this.”
Silverstreak nodded. “I understand. We’ll take it as it comes, right?”
“We will. Now, do you still want more soup?” The Pixie’s stomach growled before he could reply and Red smiled. “I will take that as a yes. Rest more, and I will go retrieve it.”
“Thank you.” He let the Healer lower him back down on his bed and closed his eyes to ease the strain on his head while he waited. “The painkiller too, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, Silverstreak.”