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Chapter Text

Jack Sullivan. He's always been kind of a... Tough kid. He's been given back to the foster system more times than he can count!

Unfortunately, the majority of the houses he lived at were very... Not nice? Jack didn't really consider them mean, just... Strict?

But like, a little too strict, y'know? Of course, as I said, he's been through the process of being "given back", as he likes to call it, more times than he should've.

Or wanted to.

But right now, he's running through a store. Let's see what's going on, shall we?

(First person, Jack)

Sooo, I may or may not be running from a GINORMOUS BEAST right now.

But that's okay! I have Rover waiting for me outside! I was trying to get some Band-Aids, but I realized there were none here.

Why did I need Band-Aids, you might ask? Well Quint is working on something, and he needs Band-Aids, for whatever reason.

I wanted to question it, but he didn't really let me. But I'd do anything for Quint, so it's okay!

So now here I am, running from some monster. I didn't really get a good look at it, I was kinda too busy running to turn around.

I sprint past some of the aisles, trying to get back to the eager Rover waiting for me outside. I manage to make it to the door when I feel something sink into my leg.

It feels like teeth.

When I look down, I see that it's not in fact teeth, but a piece of scrap metal. The monster seems to get scared of the blood, and runs away. Odd.

I just let out a sigh and take a few snacks (don't tell them, they'll kill me if they find out I got snacks for myself and no one else).

I hop on Rover, thankfully running away as a zombie creeps up behind us.

Once we're home, June is outside. She's sitting with Quint, who looks worried. Huh, what's wrong?

"Uh, is everything okay?" I ask, staring at a glaring June. "Is everything o-kay? NO, everything's not OKAY, Jack!!"

Quint sees me getting confused and slightly shaken up, so he sighs and stands, adjusting his bathrobe that he's wearing for whatever reason.

"She's joking, Jack. You're right on time actually, surprisingly enough. Do you have the Band-Aids?" Quint asks.

I quickly plaster on a smile, but I don't even get the chance to say anything before June shouts,

"Wait, you got snacks!? And didn't grab us any!?" I let out a soft and nervous chuckle, tucking the stuff away.

I head up into the treehouse after June, Dirk, and Quint steal most of my snacks, leaving me with a single bag of Skittles.

It's whatever though. I didn't need that much anyways. Besides, my focus was mainly on my leg right now. It had started stinging once I got to my room, which was weird.

Was it that cut?

I check my leg, pulling up my pants. It looks like a deep scratch. Very deep.

That scrap metal did quite a number on my leg... Of course, it didn't hit anything vital. I'm fine. And as long as I bandage it up, it should be fine, right?

I pull the ankle of my pants back down as I sigh. Well... Can't be too bad.

I was wrong. Yeah, okay, so, hi. It's Jack here, 24 hours later.

My leg is in SO much pain now. Like, it's bad. Real bad.

My leg isn't swelling or anything, but I think some dirt might've got in my cut or something. I should tell the others, but they're off doing... Quest things.

Oh wait, nevermind! I just heard Big Mama pull in. I try standing up, but I get weirdly dizzy when I do.

As everyone comes inside, I'm on the couch reading some comic, trying to pretend to be busy.

Quint walks inside first, gasping in delight. "Ah, you're awake, friend! You were asleep for quite a bit... Do you feel okay?" What does Quint mean by that?

How long did I sleep for? "Yeah, I feel fine. Why?" That's not entirely a lie. I feel pretty good, actually! Except... My head is killing me.

And so is my leg. I didn't really say anything though, because I doesn't want my friends to get worried. Besides, it'll probably go away on it's own. Right?

"I'm just checking. You can never be too careful with you, Jack!" Quint teases, walking inside with everyone else.

And there I sit. Alone. On the couch. In pain. I definitely won't be questing anytime soon. 

Once again, that was a lie. Because now here I am, getting into Big Mama. For a quest.

I felt quite tired today actually, and didn't feel like getting up, but June managed to get me awake. I wouldn't stand up though, so Dirk had to pick me up to carry me out to the truck.

I kinda fought back, trying to pretend I was okay. I get into the car, my head spinning slightly. Whatever has me feeling like this, I just want it to go away.

You'd never guess where they are now. The same store Jack was being chased in! Everyone walks inside, but I have to wait for a minute inside of Big Mama. When I eventually head inside, Quint notices something.

He looks at my face, and his own slightly pales. Suddenly, he reaches up at my face and touches my forehead with the back of his hand.

He pulls it away moments later.

"Jack, you're burning up! Are you okay?" Quint asks me. I nod, yawning quietly.

I don't want them worrying about me. If something's wrong, I'll take care of it. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm actually a little cold."

Chapter Text

"Cold?? You should not feel cold!! You're super hot, Jack!" Quint shouts, worried. I throw him a dopey smile, and answer with - "I know."

Quint lightheartedly smacks me in the chest, glaring into my SOUL. He sighs, and grabs a thermometer off a shelf. He places it in my mouth, before pulling it back after a moment.

He looks at it and sighs, making me curious. "It's at 100, Jack. Are you sure you're okay?" He asks.

I just let out a sound like a "Pshhh, yeah I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?" Quint doesn't push it, instead just nodding and walking away.

A few minutes later, I start feeling kind of nauseous. Like I need to throw up, but I can't. Everyone looks back at me after moment, and Dirk speaks up.

"Hurry up, dork. You're way behind." He comments, speaking what everyone else is thinking. Quint walks over to me after a moment, before speaking out loud.

"How about we split up? I'll go with Jack, you two go together." They both seem to agree with Quint's words, and they walk off together, after giving us half of the list.

On our slow journey to get crackers, Quint asks me some questions.

"You're walking a bit slow, friend. Is everything okay?" He asks, concern evident in his voice. I give him a thumbs up, although I think it's obvious it's not very genuine.

"Yeah, everything is fine. Just not feeling very well, is all." Quint raises an eyebrow, but the nausea finally passes.

I sigh, standing up straight finally. Quint seems to be relieved as I get better, which is something I can't help but be happy about.

We keep walking together, and end up back in Big Mama before everyone else. 

"Aww, how did we lose to you guys!?" Dirk asks, crossing his arms in a playful anger. Quint and I share a confused glance, and June explains.

"We made a bet that we'd have to wait for hours for you guys to get back."

I blink, barely processing her words.

I think Quint sees, and he gently nudges me. June looks confused, as well as Dirk, so Quint sighs and goes behind my back and tells them... What he thinks is going on.

"I think he's sick. He hasn't been focusing very well, and he's been dizzy all day." Dirk and June both sigh, crossing their arms. I shake my head, trying to convince them I'm fine.

"No, no! Quint's wrong. I'm fine, you guys!" I try to convince them, and I don't think it works. But they still take the bait, and just leave it alone.

I manage to excuse myself to my room once we're home, where I pretty much instantly fall asleep.

In the morning, I just feel entirely drained. Thankfully, there's not that much to do. But I guess I take too long too come of the room, so Dirk comes in check on me. And before I can stop myself, I kind of... Snap on him.

"Get out..." I say, my voice surprisingly loud for how tired I am. Dirk looks confused, raising a brow. But I just don't have the energy for it, not today.

When he doesn't budge, I just bury my face in my bed. Eventually, Dirk does leave.

And now I'm by myself. And my leg is throbbing. At some point, I muster up the energy to sit up and check on it. And just as I suspected, the cut was... Healed?

If my leg isn't infected, then... What's wrong?

Chapter Text

Everyone has been basically keeping me on house arrest since Quint pointed something out to them. Unfortunately enough for me, they won't let me do anything.

So because of this, I've been insanely bored. I've just been sitting around the treehouse, since now I have nothing to do.

I've been doing a lot of thinking while I've been sitting around. My leg isn't infected, I wasn't bitten by anything like I originally thought I was.

So... What happened? Is it something simple, like the cold? Or maybe the flu?

Or is it something from the monsters? Is it since they live next to Joe's Pizza now? Are the monsters contracting something?

If that were the case, why aren't my friends sick? Specifically Dirk. He's always around the monsters. If it were them, he would say something, right? And he would also probably be sick!

And if he wouldn't get sick, that would imply it's only an illness monsters can get. So it wouldn't hurt me anyways!

I've never considered myself an attentive person, more like someone who just notices the small things sometimes.

But this really has me thinking. Normally, I'd ask Quint or June. But I don't want to come off as weak or something, so that's not happening. Besides, they have enough to worry about right now anyway.

I end up sitting there for hours, thinking. How are sicknesses usually spread? Well...

I don't have that much knowledge on being sick, as it rarely ever happens to me, but I know some stuff. It can be spread through the air, the ground, sneezing and coughing.

But that's all I really know. Dirk brings me up some water while I'm thinking, but I barely have the energy to turn my head. It's weird. I feel so restless, but I have none of the energy to move. However, I still try to not let it show.

"Got you some water from Joe's. We just went on a supply run, and left you the rest of the old case." Dirk explains, setting the old case of water on the ground.

He hands me one, and I smile gratefully. "Aw, thanks buddy! Who knew you could be so generous?" I ask, my eyes lighting up.

He simply rolls his eyes and heads back down. Leaving me alone.

Again.

I was getting pretty sick of being alone at this point. I drink the water in my hand, lifting up my head so I don't choke.

I fall back asleep after a while, even though I don't remember feeling tired. When I wake back up, I'm sweating buckets.

It's so incredibly cold though. It wasn't this bad before when Quint was asking if I was okay. Sure, I had felt a little cold, but it wasn't this bad!

It looks like it's around 1 in the morning at this point, and I have a surprising amount of energy. I guess that's what happens when you sleep all day.

Maybe I'm finally starting to get better! I look outside for what feels like hours, although I know it's just a couple of minutes. I start feeling woozy again, so I sit back down on my bed (dirty clothes in a kiddie pool), and I just think.

Think about how great things are going to be tomorrow. After all, what could go wrong?

Chapter Text

So, it got worse. Basically, don't tell anyone, but I'm pretty sure I'm gonna need medicine to recover.

I still haven't told anyone that I'm sick, but I think they can tell. I woke up feeling pretty out of it. My head has been spinning pretty bad, which is making me a little queasy. But it's okay! Because I have to go on a supply run today.

If I offer to go, I could just grab medicine and hide it! And that's exactly what I'll do!

So, they told me no. I sort of... Maybe... Forgot that I was on a lockdown, so I can't go anywhere. Mainly because they're worried of getting what I have.

But I have a plan!! I'll just pretend I'm okay! Then, they can't say anything about me being sick, right? And that's exactly what I do.

Surprisingly, I manage to convince them. I didn't really think I'd be able to, honestly. But I go outside and take Rover to a CVS.

There, I look down at the list and grab everything that's needed. While I scour through the shelves looking for medicine, Rover stands guard outside.

Thankfully, he doesn't bark at anything or growl whatsoever, meaning I'm completely, totally, and 100% safe!

For now.

If I can't find this medicine, I'm about to get super worse. I think. Maybe I won't! I mean, can it really get worse than constant shivering and always being cold?

I've also been feeling a bit nauseous lately, but that I definitely will not speak out on. Quint hates puke. Which is fair, cause I do too.

Eventually, I find some PeptoBismol, and I read what it says.

It helps with diarrhea (gross), upset stomachs, vomiting (double gross!), and nausea! Score!

Although I know this isn't all that I'll need, it should be good enough for now, right?

I put the pink liquid in my basket, and continue looking around. There's some Tylenol and NyQuil I could grab, but I don't really think I'll need it.

The nausea is pretty much the only thing bothering me, but I already have what I need for that. So, with that done, I hop on Rover and high tail it outta there!

When I get back to the treehouse, I look down at the bottle in the basket, and hide it under some of the other stuff. When I bring it inside, Quint greets me, much to my surprise.

"So friend, how are you feeling? Better?" He asks, seeming genuinely curious. At first I was wondering if June made him say this, but it seems like he just wants to know.

"Uh, yeah! I feel a whole lot better, buddy. I just needed some rest, and now I am A-Okay!" I respond, clutching the basket tightly to hide my shaking hands.

Quint doesn't seem to notice, which is good for me. I don't need anyone worrying, especially not Quint.

"That's good! Did you also get my potato chips?" He asks me, looking into the basket. He gets ready to grab the basket, but I stop him.

"U-Uh, yeah! They're in here. But I wanted to bring them inside myself!" I quickly exclaim, walking past him to bring the basket inside. He raises an eyebrow, looking at me with suspicion.

Please don't tell me he's catching on.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay, Jack? It's okay to not be okay." That's something he says a lot.

Normally, it was to comfort me when I was at my lowest, and it wasn't something Quint said often.

"Yeah, of course I'm okay. I just know the kitchen has been getting messed up, so I just want to bring the stuff inside to put it up myself!" I explain, beginning to put things away.

I hide the bottle of medicine under my own snacks in my hand, so that Quint doesn't see it.

"Uh-Huh. What have you done with the real Jack? He would never." Quint responds sarcastically, watching me out things away.

Of course, I get a bit defensive. I mean, who wouldn't? Your friend saying you're lazy isn't exactly a nice thing!

"Hey! I clean!" I shout back, albeit playfully. He rolls his eyes, but he smiles slightly.

"Right. Totally."

So now here I am, in my room with a bottle of PeptoBismol to my left, and a bottle of water to my right.

Quint used to tell me about how he used to get super sick super easily, so we was always taking medicine. So at the very least, I know that this stuff doesn't taste too good. Like, at all.

I open both bottles, and get ready to guzzle down a cap full of Pepto. I'm not ready, but I force myself to do it anyways.

I swallow it, instantly washing it down with some water.

Yep, tasted simply awful. Horrible. Disgusting.

I feel kinda bad for past Quint.

I mean, he had to take this stuff practically daily! That's like, actual hell! I think. I don't know, I've not exactly been there. Yet.

I quickly hide the bottle in one of my drawers (my underwear drawer), so no one finds the medicine.

Look, I know this all seems a bit much, but I can't have my friends worrying. They already are still worried about Rezzoch coming back. They still have monsters to deal with, and zombies!

Not to mention the simple stuff too.

Cleaning, dealing with loud neighbors, supply runs, food and water.

They don't need a sick friend on top of that! I can take care of myself. Besides, I've done that pretty much my whole life anyways.

It's not like this is any different than most of the foster homes I've lived in.

It's just got zombies.

That's not that bad.

...

Although, it would be nice if I knew what to do.

...

Before I know it, I'm drifting off into sleep.

Chapter Text

I woke up, and everything was instantly worse. Any move that I made, made me nauseous. Even breathing!!

I buried my face in my pillow for what felt like hours, before someone knocked on the door.

I didn't respond.

I think this freaked the person out, because they almost instantly opened the door.

It's Quint.

"Oh jeez, Jack. You look simply awful, friend." He points out, cringing at my discomforted moan into my pillow.

"I'm aware. Did you need something, or can I go back to bed...?" I mutter, my voice tired. Quint sighs and leaves, before coming back with something in his hands.

A thermometer.

I don't have the energy to fight back as he pushes the piece into my ear, pulling it out after a moment. It reads,

"102.3, Jack. You're sick." He mutters with a sigh, rubbing his forehead.

"Mmph..." I manage to groan, making Quint look down at me carefully. He talks as if he can read my mind.

"Yes Jack, that's bad. Let me go get the others." He stands up and leaves before I can say anything against it. I manage to sit up, which instantly makes me more nauseous. Like, I actually have to throw up.

I run out of my room with a speed that's more than I could muster to even drink some water last night. 

And the only bit of food I've eaten so far, comes up.

I wipe my mouth when I'm done, leaning over the railing outside the treehouse. Quint and the others stand behind me, leaving me panting.

I eventually turn around, and finally I roll my eyes.

"I'm fine, you guys. Stop overreacting." I mutter, trying to put on a playful smile. They don't buy it this time.

"Jack, you should have told us you weren't feeling well! We were worried sick about what was going on with you!" Quint exclaims, crossing his arms.

"Pun intended?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood. However, the others simply shake their heads. "Tough crowd."

I just sigh, before sitting down on the couch. Then I explain everything.

Well...

That's not a total lie, but...

I don't tell them everything.

But I don't exactly lie either.

"So, I've just been feeling a little unwell. Is that really such a big deal?" I ask, playing it off.

"You're at 102°, Jack." June mutters, her brows furrowing. Ah. Quint told them.

"That's not that bad, right?" I joke, chuckling nervously. Dirk looks at me like I'm crazy, and steps forward.

"Of course that's bad, ya dingus!" He shouts, which hurts my head. Obviously, the whole thing I'm doing is trying to convince them I'm okay, so holding my head and wincing definitely wouldn't help.

So instead, I bite my lip and dig my nails into my palm to deal with it.

"I'm sure it's not that serious." I respond, rolling my eyes playfully. Quint steps in, raising a finger. "Actually, that can become quite serious, friend."

"The keyword is can, Quint. Not is. Can." I explain, my expression clearly annoyed. I cross my arms with a sigh, knowing everyone else isn't planning on letting this go.

"Okay. What can I do to prove that I'm okay?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. They all look at each other, before looking back at me.

I never should have asked.

Three words.

The toilet bucket.

They're making me clean the toilet bucket.

It's disgusting, but if it tells them that I'm perfectly okay, which I am, it's worth it.

After a while of procrastinating, I manage to get it over with. As I sigh in relaxation, leaning back on the couch after cleaning it up, my stomach begins hurting.

Of course it does.

I end up running outside again, except not that much comes out this time. Simply some bile.

Still gross, but better than it could be.

After that, I end up going back to my room, lying down to sleep. Until, I notice.

The clothes.

They're gone.

I storm out into the living room where everyone else is, and tiredly ask;

"Where are my blankets?"

Everyone else blinks, looking at me as if I have two heads.

Do I?

"Oh, you mean those dirty clothes you lay with? Yeah, we moved em'. Your temperature is way too high for you to be coverin' up." Dirk responds, staring me down.

All I can really do is shrug and lie down at this point.

It's all I have the energy to do.

After what feels like forever,

I finally managed to fall asleep.

Chapter Text

Finally.

I finished the toilet bucket!! It took me a while, because I get quite nauseous a lot. But that's still a thing when you're getting over being sick, right?

Either way, I cleaned it! Now, they should believe that I'm not sick!!

I take the bucket to them, and hold it high and mighty, letting the fresh lavender scent of the bucket fill the air. Yes, I sprayed out the inside.

Everyone looks shocked, but not in a good way. "That smells and looks good Sullivan, but.." June trails off, and everyone looks like they clearly don't believe me.

"Uh, yeah dude... You're like, super sick." Dirk mutters, raising an eyebrow. Are they like.. confused?

"Friend, we checked your temperature last night whilst you were asleep, and it rised!" Quint adds, completely taking away my point.

"What, so I took the toilet bucket out just... Because?" I ask, watching as the others chuckle slightly.

"I hate you all."

So, I am still basically on lockdown. I can't do literally anything. It's awful.

They basically told me I have no freedom and have the most free time in the world. Except I can't use that free time to do anything!!!

Since I'm stuck here, I've been doing some more thinking. Except I won't elaborate on what.

This time...

Anyway, they come in with some more water a little bit later, and I happily drink it. Unfortunately, things don't seem to be going too hot after that.

Can you guess what happened again? Yeah... I didn't even eat anything today either. And yet, it all still came up somehow. I overheard Quint and the others talking about how I'm only getting worse.

I think they're starting to panic. I know they don't want to freak me out, which is exactly why they're not saying it to my face.

But I'm freaking out now!!! I'm only getting worse, they're too panicked to even tell me, and I'm shaking really bad!!

Okay - Okay! Just breathe, Jack. Breathe. Everything is gonna be a-okay! They're just overreacting, and so am I!

It's easy to overthink stuff, and that's exactly what all of us are doing. So all we need is a distraction! Something to pry our attention away from the fact that I'm out of order at the moment.

A quest!

What are we questing for, you might ask? Well, I kind of already said it.

A distraction!

Mainly one for me, but that's a topic for another day...

Quickly, I jump up and stretch out, practically falling on my behind in the process. Let's not do that, okay, me?

I put my things on (or at least try to, anyway), and I guess I make too much noise, because Dirk comes in to check on me not even 10 seconds later.

"Uhmm, what are you doing?" He asks, confused. He raises an eyebrow, looking at me as I try to hop into my shoes.

"Nothing! Just.. getting ready!" I explain, my voice strained as I try squeezing my shoe on without untying it. Unfortunately, it does not work.

"Well first of all, you're gonna need to untie that." He points out, looking down at my masterly double-knotted shoe.

"Gee, thanks captain obvious." I mutter, rolling my eyes. He simply scoffs.

"Secondly, what in the world are you getting ready for? You're sick, and nobody's able to go anywhere with you right now."

I feel my excitement deflate. Everyone's busy? Really? Really really???

Why is everyone always working!? Seriously, I don't understand it. We're always doing something. I mean, we never relax anymore!

"Seriously?? Everyone? Because I'm pretty sure I see someone in front of me who's not working." I wink, which he obviously doesn't notice nor care about.

"I am busy. You just randomly decided to start goofing off and nearly concuss yourself by like... Tripping on the floor or something." He excuses, crossing his arms. What kind of excuse is that?

"Seriously? I'm fine!! If anything, I think you were purposefully looking for a reason to come in here. Either that, or June made you come check on me." My voice is quiet for that last part.

I have a habit of adding unnecessary comments to the end of sentences.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Now that I know you're not in fact becoming zombie chow, I have work to do." And he walks away.

Leaving me alone.

Again.

With only my thoughts.

And some water! Which I happily chug a bottle of.

Suddenly, I remember! I have a bottle of PeptoBismol! I should be taking that to get better!

Eagerly, I run to where I hid the PeptoBismol, and I also chug that. It is disgusting, which makes me chug half of another water.

Hey, at least I'm hydrated!

I sigh before beginning to take my things back off. I use Dirk's advice though, and I untie the shoes before putting them up. It's exhausting being the only one who wants to do anything.

I end up laying down, and I fall asleep before I can even acknowledge how tired I am.

And I drift off into another dreamscape, which entails heroic quests with my friends.

Er, family.

Yeah.

Family.

Chapter Text

I wish I had a family.

I mean, everyone wishes to have a happy family, or a functional family.

But I just want a family.

A biological one, of course.

Dirk, June, and Quint are all awesome and super fun to hang out with, but... They don't necessarily beat the real thing.

I've never really gotten to know my real parents.

All I know, is that I was given up for foster care by like, 3 years old! Probably younger, honestly.

And let me tell you this - foster care isn't fun!! The people in the buildings are mean, the families are rude and way too strict, and the kids are all spoiled rotten!!!

Not to mention the fact that I was always one of the oldest kids adopted, so I was treated like a maid in most houses.

Obviously not all, but most is the proper judgement in my opinion.

Anyway,

A family of my own has always been my biggest dream. And while the others can't replace a biological family -

They're still family.

My family.

Which is exactly why they worry.

And I know that.

But it's so hard to not just lash out on them, y'know? I mean, they're not my parents. They don't get to just... Put me in a time out or a "lockdown", because they feel like it.

They don't get to boss me around.

And as much as I love them,

I'm getting sick of it.

Pun not intended.

I understand I'm not well, and their only interest is seeing me get better, but the way they execute it is not good sometimes.

They bring me water, sure. But I have to get food myself. I still manage to convince them to go out on supply runs sometimes.

They aren't checking up on me as often anymore.

And I know they all have things to do, but it seems like they don't really care.

Wait.

No.

I can't think like that!

Maybe they just think I'm getting better!

Yeah!!

That's what I should be thinking, not all that other stuff. They just think I'm getting better. And that's a good thing, right?

But... When my sickness was really bad, they paid a lot of attention to me. Not... Other people. They weren't focused on finding their parents.

They were focused on making sure that I was okay.

...

Right now, it's the middle of the night, and everyone's sleeping.

Obviously.

What else would you be doing in the middle of the night in a monster zombie apocalypse?

Well, not me.

Because I'm cleaning! That's what I'm doing!

I have air freshener, disinfectant wipes, a broom and a mop, and a duster. A feather duster at that.

Prepare to be cleaned, treehouse!!

I eagerly start with cleaning the countertops in the kitchen. It's hard to wipe up the wood, but I manage to do it.

After that, I move on to dusting. It's probably actually one of the hardest parts. There's just so much dust everywhere in so many nooks and crannies, and you just can't reach it all...

It just bothers me, okay?

"Come on..." I mutter to myself in encouragement as I slowly finish dusting. After that, I move on to the dreaded part.

Sweeping and mopping.

There's so much area to cover, how will I do it all!?

Okay Jack, breathe. It's not that much area. It's like, 200 square feet. You got this.

No, I can't measure in square feet.

I slowly begin to sweep around, gathering all the dirt and dust on the floor. I never realized how dirty these floors were.

I get everything on the ground into the dustpan, before taking out the mop. It's just some water and pinesol, to make the floors smell nice.

Hopefully, it doesn't have a negative effect on the wood...

It's just a little bit.

It'll be fine.

After what feels like forever, I finish mopping. But then I realize that there's stuff everywhere. Everything needs to be organized and cleaned!!

I start by tearing up the gaming area/living room/TV area, organizing everything and lining it up perfectly, before cleaning literally every other room except the bedrooms.

In the morning, I'm utterly exhausted.

I can honestly barely move.

But if my frien - FAMILY sees that, then they might become more suspicious. Or even worse, they'll worry!

That's the one thing they absolutely cannot do!!

So I muster up the energy I have, and eagerly come out to the living room once everyone is awake.

They seem shocked by the organized rooms, the clean smells all around the treehouse.

It doesn't smell like pubescent boy in here anymore!

Or at least, it won't.

For a little while, anyway.

"Wow, it's... Clean. For once." June comments, looking around appreciatively. I think she likes it.

"It's kind of odd, honestly. I'm so used to the place being a mess." Dirk says, looking around as well. He sits on the couch, seemingly surprised by how comfy it is.

That's a lie.

The couch is always a pleasant surprise.

"Friend, did you clean?" Quint asks, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "I mean, we're not mad if you did. I mean, I'm not mad. Er, I won't be mad if you say you did!" He stutters, his voice becoming louder as he interrupts himself.

"Um.." I'm honestly kind of speechless. I mean, what would I say after saying no? Some kind of leprechaun came in and deep cleaned the whole treehouse?

"No, a leprechaun came in and deep cleaned the treehouse."

They instantly shoot confused looks at me.

Fair enough.

"Okay, fine. I did. The place needed a spiff, and I wasn't tired last night, so I cleaned. Is it really that big of a deal?" I groan, my voice complacent. I mean, is it really? After all, the place is cleaned up now.

That's a good thing!

Right?

"Okayyy, but you're sick, friend! If you wanted the place to be clean, you could have said something!" Quint exclaims, his voice concerned.

The one thing I didn't want to happen is happening.

They're worried.

"No no, Quint. It's okay! I wanted to clean. I've been bored just sitting around." I sigh, crossing my arms.

That's a lie.

Well, partially.

But that's not the main reason I cleaned.

I want them to think I am a-okay! Because I am!

"I'm fine, really. You guys don't need to worry." I sigh, crossing my arms. 

They worry way too much.

"Seriously."

I think that gets them to back off, because they chill out a bit.

Good.

I've asked them for some tasks, seeing as I'm not going out to do anything anytime soon.

They give me a list of chores to do, one day at a time.

The first one of the week is; taking out the trash.

Oh boy.

I start off by gathering all the trash around the treehouse and putting it into piles.

After that, I throw everything in those piles away.

Easy!

Since that one didn't take that long, I can do another!

Chores:

1. Take out the trash.
2. Wash the dishes.
3. Organize the living room.
4. Trim the garden.
5. Buff and polish Big Mama.

Okay, so that's 1 out of 5 tasks done! I'm already on a roll!

Okay, so next is to wash the dishes.

Easy!

I start by wetting a sponge and getting some soap, and I happily take care of the overwhelming amount of cutlery and ceramics in the sink.

It takes a few hours, but I eventually finish washing.

Just for the sake of it, I dry off the dishes and put them away too.

I check that off of my list, and look at the third task.

"Organize the living room". Easy peasy!

I carefully take the stuffed animals and throw pillows, and I organize them on the couch in an appealing way, before moving on to the came consoles.

They're a jumbled mess of cords, and I easily fix them up.

After that, I have to clean up some food that's been left out.

It's still packaged and everything, too. It's just pre-packaged food that never got around to being eaten.

Just more food for now!

So after that, I happily check number 3 off of my list.

Okay, I'm a little more than halfway now.

I might as well finish the list at this point!

...

Next on the list is trimming the garden. They mean the lawn, but Dirk must have gotten mixed up when writing this. But I can do both!

I step outside the treehouse and grab a pair of garden shears, and I start to trim up Dirk's garden. I pull out any weeds, according to his garden book, and then move to the grass.

Dirk and June both keep up with groundskeeping, but since I've gotten sick, their focus has been all on... Me.

Oh boy.

I start by cleaning up the garbage, before taking the lawnmower and trimming up the grass.

Yes, we have a lawnmower.

Dirk took it forever ago for the grass from En Garden.

Anyway, that only takes like 10 minutes before I'm done.

Boom, onto the last task!

Buff and polish Big Mama.

Easy!

Quint keeps the materials for this in the shed that he built for Dirk! I take the stuff out and follow the video instructions he has ready for me.

It's quite easy once I get the hang of it, but it takes me a while to get it done. Finally though, I finish.

Everything is checked off now.

And I need to go to bed.

I'm getting nauseous again.

That's not a great sign, is it?

...

I don't think I'm getting better.

Chapter Text

In the morning once I wake up, I end up finding myself staring at the ceiling.

Odd.

My stomach doesn't hurt today, but I still have that nagging feeling in the back of my throat.

Like it wants to come up, but it just can't.

Or it's not ready to.

Either way, I'm not focused on that or my stomach right now. I'm focused on my head.

It's spinning so much.

Maybe I should have grabbed that NyQuil or Tylenol at the store the other day.

Although, I don't think it would have helped much right now. 

Every time I move, it just gets worse. And my throat aches more.

Eventually, I manage to sit up to drink some water, but it surprisingly only makes me feel worse.

Before I know it, I'm in the kitchen. Dirk must have noticed that I don't look too hot, because he walks up with a bowl of cereal.

"You should eat." He says, looking down at me with concern.

Yeah well, I don't need his pity.

I don't need anyone.

"I'm fine. I'm not hungry." I mutter, pushing the bowl away. He looks a little more concerned now, but his expression firms.

"I don't care, honestly. You look pale, and you haven't been eating. The others are worried, dude. Even Skaelka is worried about how she hasn't seen you." Dirk explains. I know it's to make me feel bad, or just to explain.

But, honestly? I'm just too tired to care.

No offense to anyone, of course.

"That's awesome Dirk, but all I'm doing is saying no to some cereal. That's not serious." I sigh, blinking slowly.

"No, that's not the problem, Jack, and you know it." He crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow to me. He's not buying my story anytime soon.

Suddenly, Quint walks inside, confused.

"Hey, is everything okay in here?" He asks, which causes June to come inside, too.

"What's going on? Why are you asking that, Quint?" She asks him, raising an eyebrow just like Dirk. Speaking of which...

"He won't eat any food. He told me it's not that serious, and normally I wouldn't be concerned, but... He's not being playful about it, and he looks pale." Dirk explains, causing me to sigh again.

I don't even realize how rude it sounds at first.

"I'm not sick, you guys. You're overreacting. How many times have I proved myself now?" I groan, rolling my eyes.

"Well, you've proved yourself quite a bit friend. However, we're mainly worried about you overexerting yourself." He trails off for a moment, before continuing.

"As Dirk said, you haven't been eating and you're starting to look rather pale. That's also in concern with your consistently rising temperature."

"You were also already at 102 before your temp started rising. Anything above a 101 is dangerous, Jack! You should be in bed, resting! I don't even know how you have the energy to be running around like this!" June adds, placing her spear on the ground firmly.

Quint hesitates, but speaks softly. "Friend, if something is happening, you can talk to us about it." His voice is practically a whisper, as if he doesn't want to outright say what they're all thinking.

"What do you mean, Quint? I'm perfectly fine, and I know I can talk to you guys." I respond, rolling my eyes again.

"Like.. Rezzoch. Is she bothering you again? You can tell us, Jack." Quint asks, looking more concerned than I've seen him in a while.

"What!? No!" I practically shout.

If Rezzoch were bothering me, I'd have said something forever ago!

Actually, that's a lie.

I probably wouldn't have said anything for a very long time.

Just like the first time.

But I will never make that mistake again,

Mainly because we defeated her, and she's never coming back!!

"We defeated Rezzoch. If she came back, I'd say something." I lie to them. I only feel partially bad about it.

But they all just look at me.

I know they have their doubts, but they don't have to be so obvious.

"Fine, I'll eat the food. Are you guys happy?" I sigh, beginning to take the first bites of my now soggy cereal.

They all let out relieved breaths - even Dirk.

Eventually, I finish the bowl. It takes me a while, because I'm not really all that hungry at the moment.

But I finish it.

And not long after, my stomach starts getting upset.

I feel the sensation of bile climbing up my throat, but I try to ignore it.

A few minutes later, it comes up.

Shouldn't have ignored it...

A few minutes later, I'm covered up and shivering sitting on the couch.

It's rough to throw up so much. Which I know it's only happened twice, but I feel like it's about to get so much worse.

And they're cleaning up the mess on the ground for me.

Quint is nervously standing next to the couch, unaware of what to do. I can tell he wants to comfort me, but I don't think he really knows how.

"I... I could... Clean that up..." I mutter, my voice softer than usual.

"Don't even start with us, Jack." June snarls, continuing to scrub at the content staining the ground.

I had originally meant to run outside.

But it just came up so quick, I couldn't get there fast enough.

And now...

They're cleaning up after me.

I should be the one down there, scrubbing on my hands and knees.

It's my mess.

And all I'm doing is watching.

And I feel awful for it.

Chapter Text

3 hours later, everyone has literally scrubbed my stomach contents off of the floor, and although I feel horrible, I also feel a twinge of gratefulness.

Because although I hate the idea of people cleaning up after me, much less having to, I also like knowing that the people here will clean up after me if they need to.

That being said, I still don't like this.

"Jack, how often have you been throwing up, friend?" Quint asks, raising an eyebrow in confusion. He doesn't seem worried. It should be fine to answer.

"Only about, like... A week now." I mutter. Quint blinks, processing my answer, before repeating himself.

"No, friend, I said how often. Not how long." He corrects, sitting down on the couch beside me. He puts a hand down to the cushion, looking at me carefully.

"Oh, my bad. Usually it's around the time you guys bring me water." I respond quietly, huddling under the blanket I've been given. It's thick and warm, calming my shivering.

"It's typically around 9:00 a.m. when Dirk drops off your water." June sighs, looking around at the still relatively clean treehouse.

It's unfortunate how trashed it's gotten just overnight.

"I'm sorry, I'm tired..." I say softly, tightening my hands under the thick fabric draped across me.

"I usually chug a bunch of it before going to sleep or something. It's usually like, 15 minutes after I drink some." I shrug weakly with a sigh.

The others look at each other, before looking back at me. Quint nods, and the others leave the living room.

"Friend," He begins, holding out a hand gently to mine. "You've been sick a while - it's obvious."

I roll my eyes, but I don't mean it in a rude way. I just... Can't think of a better response. I'm tired, I'm sick, I just threw up, I'm super light headed, etc.

I want to go to bed already.

"Although you're sick, you've been trying to, what, "prove" your worth to us by doing a bunch of mundane tasks that nobody else wants to do either?"

He grips the cushion, before letting it go slowly.

"I know you've been hiding something from us. You don't have a very good poker face, y'know." He chuckles softly, bringing both his hands to his lap.

"That was a joke, by the way. Just so you know." He clarifies.

I wish I could gain a response, but I can't. I have nothing to say.

"I'm fine, Quint. How many times do I have to say it?"

"How many times do I have to say that you're not okay?" He retaliates.

Fair enough.

He sees right through me, surprisingly enough.

"Just let me do my thing, okay? I can still pull off my "action hero tough guy survivor" act!" I sigh, leaning my head back against the back cushions of the couch.

"You're getting away from the point, friend. You're majorly sick and have been overexerting yourself. It's a miracle you're even still standing right now." He explains, but it doesn't end there.

"I'm worried. We all are." He gestures between us, as if we're the same.

"Everyone has been talking about you. Even Cool Guy 5."

Now, this catches my attention.

"Bardle has been asking about me?" I ask, raising a brow with confusion and surprise. That's the last person I'd expect to ask if I'm okay. If that's even what he's been asking about...

"Yes! He wants to know what you have, and if you're okay!"

Question - answered.

"Well, that's... Surprising. He's the last person I'd expect." I shrug again, bringing my knees closer to my chest. Somehow, Quint always manages to get me off of topic, while making me feel better.

After a while of silence, Quint manages to convince me to stand up.

"Come on. Let's go to Joe's Pizza and talk about this there. Maybe some food will help clear your mind." He reaches out, and I take his hand. And we gather the others, before making our way to the diner full of monsters.

The pizza is good, and it definitely helps. Thank God. It helps with the nausea, which is surprising because of how greasy and cheesy it is.

After a long period of eating, we talk to some of the monsters. Mainly Bardle.

"Are you feeling okay now, Jack?" He asks me, his voice raspy and mysterious. I nod and talk to him for a while, before me and the group turn to go home. The moment I step foot through the door, though...

"I don't feel very good, you guys..." I mutter, spots of black fading into my vision. Quint catches on, and quickly catches me as I collapse.

I can hear nothing but the muffled voices of Quint asking for everyone to calm down, before my eyes shut entirely.

Everything goes dark after that.

Chapter Text

Quint's POV

The moment Jack passed out, I knew something was wrong. I mean, obviously. Something's wrong. Dirk and June didn't necessarily handle it very well, freaking out and trembling the moment it happened.

So of course, it's up to me to calm them.

"Guys, he only passed out because he's exhausted. He's fine, I promise you." I sigh, holding my best buddy's limp body up in my arms. Needless to say, I'm still insanely worried.

"Well, yes, but, I literally just watched my friend fall limp in front of me, obviously I'm worried!!" Dirk retaliates, throwing out his arms exasperatedly. June quickly follows.

"Yeah, Quint! He's been sick for what, like, a week now!?" She huffs with frustration, although I can see her hands trembling slightly in fear.

"He's fine, June. Whatever sickness he has, his body is just trying to fight it. And besides, we need to take him up to the treehouse instead of fighting about this right here." I quickly adjust Jack's body so I can begin carrying him, and the other two quickly help.

Once Jack is carefully placed inside his ridiculous makeshift bed, we close the doors and head back outside to discuss this.

"Quint, we need to know what's wrong with him!" They both explain simultaneously. "Nuh uh, not again." Dirk groans, crossing his arms. June nods in agreement.

Another breath slowly escapes me as I think about my friend. "Well thankfully, this is actually good. Jack has lost a lot of energy, and he desperately needs rest," I begin, fidgeting with my shirt. That happens a lot.

"So while he's resting, we should probably leave the treehouse empty." I continue, bringing a hand to my chin curiously. "I wonder though... Do you guys think you could reconnoiter?"

Dirk looks confused, giving me a shrug.

"He needs us to look around for anything that might be making Jack sick." June explains.

"Why didn't you just say that to begin with? You know I don't know those big fancy words." Dirk grumbles, a confused look on his face.

I give him a shrug this time. Suddenly, June raises an eyebrow. "Wait Quint, what are we supposed to do?" She asks. Dirk looks even more confused now. Poor Dirk.

"Oh, apologies! I will be testing the environment with some of my equipment. June can interview the monsters and see how they're feeling, and Dirk can clean to make sure there are no dust particles or mold anywhere!" They both nod, until June puts a hand on her hip.

"Wait a second Quint, I thought you said nobody was supposed to go into the treehouse since Jack is resting?" She asks. Right.

"Oh yes, sorry friends! Dirk, just try to be extra quiet while you clean. Jack is quite a light sleeper."

Dirk nods, and we all go our separate ways. Of course, I've forgotten. My lab is inside of the treehouse, which means, I'll be inside too. That's fine, maybe I can watch Jack to make sure he's okay while I work.

Dirk and I both head into the treehouse, being sure to stay quiet while we both get to work. I head to the lab, while Dirk starts... Dusting? Interesting.

The rickety floorboards of the treehouse creak underneath me, and I pause. No movement. I'm fine. I let out a breathy chuckle, and step into my lab.

A few hours later, we all reunite. Outside, of course.

"Well, Dirk? Did you find anything?" I ask, raising a brow. He shakes his head.

"Well, there was a lot of dust inside, and also stains everywhere, and maybe some food sitting out, but there was no mold or anything. It surprisingly wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be." He responds. I nod.

"And what about you, June? Did you find anything?" I have a clipboard in my hands, just in case. I need to write things down if they're urgent!

"I asked the monsters, and they all said they feel fine. I looked around a little too, though." She mutters the last part, as if she's not allowed to investigate things.

"Ahh, so that's why you took so long to come back." Dirk nods in understanding, and June does back.

"Yeah, exactly. And I found that the soil by Wakefield's water system is soaked. There's so much mud over there, it's not even funny." She huffs.

"Well, this could indicate a leak in the pipes." I write some stuff down on the paper on my clipboard, before clicking the pen.

"What'd you find, dork?" Dirk asks teasingly, with a hint of seriousness. "Well, I tested the things around us. Like the air, the soil, the treehouse itself, the water, and also Jack."

They share a puzzled glance. "You tested... Jack?" June tilts her head slightly.

"Yes, I tested Jack. I had to run a blood test, okay? It was disgusting. I'd rather not go into detail." I shudder just thinking about it.

"But that's not what we're talking about. I found nothing. The air is normal, with just a bit of pollen. Same with the soil, other than it being a little wetter than usual." I sigh. "None of these things would induce such violent symptoms in Jack, though. Perhaps it's something more... Unknown?" I offer, but the others don't seem to like that suggestion.

"An unknown illness that doctors never learned about, maybe? Goodness, I hope not. I'd have no way of treating him." This freaks them out more.

"Quint, you're scaring us." June leans on the tree supporting the treehouse, crossing her arms.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, friend. I am rather concerned though. There's too many factors to consider," I take a deep breath, and move to sit on Big Mama.

"He's been hiding just how bad he's been sick long enough already. Now, I can't even find the thing that's making him sick." Everyone looks down, and June kicks a rock.

"Wait. He said he's been throwing up lately whenever Dirk brings him water. Did you test his water bottles?" June asks, stepping forward.

"Yeah - at least, what was left. The water looks fine, other than being a bit old." We all groan in frustration. How on earth is Jack sick, if all the data points to him being fine? Maybe I did something wrong?

"I feel like such a lousy friend." I mutter. "I mean, I can't even find out what's wrong with my best buddy." I sniffle, and they both move to comfort me.

"Hey hey, relax, Quint. It's gonna be fine." June soothes, resting a hand on mine. "Jack is gonna be fine, okay? You're not a lousy friend. You're an amazing friend."

Dirk nods, agreeing with her. "Yeah, dude. Even if you can't figure out what's wrong, you're trying your hardest. That's gotta be worth something, right?"

I hate thinking about all the ways in which I fail Jack. So if I'm being honest, this does help. I nod, and they take me back to Joe's Pizza. It's weird being here without Jack, but I know it's because he needs rest. He's tired, and needs to sleep.

But I'll be here. Always. And that is how I know - I'm a good friend.