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Knock, knock, knock.
Etho groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over his head. He couldn’t do this right now. He was fairly certain his brain was being rearranged via blender. Etho fucking hated the blender feeling, and right now, he could do without having a brain.
The pounding on his door persisted. “IT IS THREE PM, ETHO. GET UP, I WANNA GO TO THE STORE.”
Three? Oh, shit. He had told Beef yesterday that he would get up at a reasonable hour so they could go shopping together–which normally, he wouldn’t have missed for the world. Emptying both their bank accounts was a hobby of his. It seemed Beef was getting a little impatient, not that Etho could blame him. He just really didn’t want to do anything. The thought of even just sitting up was excruciating.
His head pounded, his mouth was dry, and his body was weak and shaky for unknown reasons. Etho started at the ceiling for a minute, lost in thought about how miserable he felt. He didn’t even think he could go back to sleep in a state like this, in pain and too miserable to think, but exhausted beyond belief.
“If I come in there and you died in your sleep, I’m gonna be really mad,” Beef said, on the other side of the door. He had stopped knocking, and the ratting in Etho’s skull had subsided a fraction.
“I… I’m comin’,” he rasped, throat dry. He sat up, but made no move to get up and open the door to let Beef in.
“Did you seriously just wake up?” Beef asked.
“...No?”
“Liar. You good?”
“...Yes?”
Beef cracked the door open and poked his head in. “You don’t have to… Dude. Maybe you did die,” Beef muttered as he looked at Etho, still lying in bed with a blanket wrapped around him. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Etho said quickly. He paused. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“I’m coming in.” Beef waited, but Etho didn’t tell him off, so he opened the door all the way. Etho watched as he waded through the piles of junk on his floor. He really needed to clean. Oh, well. He would get around to it soon. Maybe.
Beef came and stood in front of him. Etho blinked at him. “Are you sick?”
Etho shook his head.
“Are you sure?”
He shook his head again. He didn’t get sick much, but his entire body sort of felt like it was being crushed by some unseen weight. His head was swimming, and he couldn't really remember his exact symptoms the last time he had been sick.
“Useless,” Beef muttered, as he walked out of the room. “I’ll be right back,” he called over his shoulder.
That was fine. Etho laid back down and rolled over with a shiver, tightening the blanket around himself. This was it–how he died. It had been a good life. At least he wouldn’t have to do homework if he was dead. Unless that was what hell was like, or something. Etho didn’t know. He wasn't really thinking straight.
“Hey,” Beef said softly, shaking him on the shoulder.
“Mmft,” Etho said eloquently. When the hell had Beef gotten so stealthy?
“Yeah, yeah, you can go back to sleep in a minute, just gotta take your temperature first,” Beef muttered, handing him a thermometer.
Etho groaned and stuck the end in his mouth. It tasted like metal and plastic. “Don’t look at me like that, it takes ten seconds,” Beef chided, as he pushed a pile of dirty laundry off the corner of Etho’s bed into the basket.
It beeped and Etho pulled it out of his mouth. 102.3°F/39.1°C. Hm. That was a little high.
“Oh, shit,” Beef muttered, as he pulled the thermometer out of Etho’s hand. “Oh, shit.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad,” Beef mocked. “You’re lucky the weekend is coming up.”
“Have… homework.”
“Go back to sleep,” Beef muttered, pulling the blanket back over him. “Does your head hurt or anything?”
“Everything hurts,” Etho pouted. “Dizzy. Bad.” He had never had a way with words, and it had certainly been worsened by his brain being put through a washing machine.
“Yeah, wait right there,” Beef said again, before fleeing the room.
It wasn’t like Etho was going anywhere. He shivered, waiting for Beef to return. Breathing out of his nose was starting to get a little difficult. Wonderful. Whatever plague had gotten him had infected every system of his body. There was no way he was really going to be able to get any proper rest. Everything felt so off, it was even too taxing to just lie there.
He sat around and looked around for a tissue to blow his nose with. And where was his phone? Man. This sucked.
“I got stuff,” Beef said merrily, balancing a wide assortment of items in his arms as he kicked the door open with his leg. “Where are you going?” Beef asked, seeing that Etho was now sitting up.
“Nowhere. Where’s my-”
Beef handed him his phone. “On the living room table where you left it.”
Etho rolled his eyes and plugged it into the frayed charging cable hanging next to his bed, which was a fire hazard waiting to be triggered. The motion made every muscle in his body scream, and he tried to steady his exhausted, shaky hands.
Beef passed him a glass of water, which he happily sipped at. He didn’t really feel hungry, or super thirsty for that matter, but the cool water was doing wonders for his throat and burning skin. Odd considering he felt quite cold. “This will help the fever and pain,” Beef said, setting a bottle of pills down on the blanket. “This is good for general cold symptoms and stuff, should help with the fever too.” He set down a bottle of bright blue liquid. “Your choice, can’t take both at once.”
“Ew,” Etho muttered.
“You can wash it down with the crackers,” Beef said, passing him a bowl of crackers. “I got you a warm towel too, fresh from the dryer.”
Fuck, Beef was too good to him. Etho pressed the warm towel against his face. It wasn’t particularly helpful in bringing his temperature down, but he was also shivering, so it felt wonderful, and it would probably help clear his stuffy nose.
“Cold medicine will help you sleep,” Beef pointed out.
“Tastes disgusting.”
“But you’ll feel better.”
“Fine.” There wasn’t really any arguing with Beef in this situation, and it was clear he had an adamant opinion. Etho was lucky he hadn’t already been dragged to the nearest hospital, while Beef panicked about all the rare infectious diseases he might have contracted.
The small cup of liquid Beef handed him was bright blue. Etho didn’t want to know what sort of chemicals it was composed of. Whoever made it had probably tried to make it taste bearable, but either their taste buds were shot, or they really missed the mark. It had been years since he had taken something like this, and he could reconstruct that pungent, sharp, tear-watering candied fruit flavor to near perfection.
He gagged as he brought the cup close to his nose.
“Just pretend it’s a shot,” Beef offered. He was nervously holding Etho’s glass of water, ready to hand it off when he needed to wash the flavor down. “I’ve seen you do shots.”
“Worst shot of my life,” Etho muttered. What the hell did they put in this stuff to make it so blue? It couldn’t be healthy. He brought the cup to his lips and knocked it back as fast as he could. Putrid, mixed berry flavored chemical flavor shot through each and every one of his taste buds, before he swallowed, forcing the nasty concoction down.
Beef shoved the glass of water in his direction and he washed the rest of the film it had left in his mouth, nearly gagging at the taste and sensation. Even after he drained most of the cup, the taste still lingered. “Ah,” he said eloquently.
“Crackers.” The bowl was dropped into his lap, and Etho nibbled on one of them, while Beef vanished, then came back with another glass of water.
“I hate everything,” Etho muttered, chewing on a cracker that tasted like sandpaper. Even food could no longer bring him joy.
“Yeah, you need sleep,” Beef said, taking the bowl of crackers back.
“Just woke up.”
“And you’re miserable. You need rest.”
“You’re… miserable.”
Beef turned off the lights, although sunlight still flooded in through the drawn blinds. “Just lay down then, it’s not like you have anything better to do.”
Etho grumbled as he pulled the blanket back over himself. Laying down made him feel marginally better, so that was a plus. “Not even tired,” he lied. Closing his eyes and blocking out the light felt quite nice.
“Sure.” Beef tossed another blanket over him, set the glass of water on the table next to the bed, and gathered up the rest of the things he had brought in.
“Trying to suffocate me,” Etho said, shivering beneath the layers of blankets.
“Are you gonna keep complaining, or are you gonna shut up and try to get some sleep?”
“Not… complaining.” This conversation was getting a little too difficult for Etho to follow. “Gonna sleep.”
“Yell if you need anything.”
===
Etho didn’t think he would fall back asleep so easily, after having slept through the entire night and well into the afternoon. But while suffering in the throes of whatever sickness had taken him, he somehow drifted off. He realized this–not when he woke up, but when he started having strange, fever induced dreams that didn’t make a lick of sense whatsoever.
Visions of odd conversations and realities that fizzled into nothing rattled his mind, causing him to half-wake at several points, sipping on the water Beef left him. He was always dragged back under before he realized he was awake.
Time stretched on, and when he woke, he didn’t know if it had been hours or moments.
He woke up gasping for air, involuntarily shooting into a sitting position. Whatever nightmare he had been having, had not been pleasant–not that he remembered any of it. Etho’s legs were tangled between multiple blankets and he was dripping with cold sweat. His head was still pounding, not alleviated by the sleep he had gotten, and he felt sick to his stomach, world spinning after he had sat up so suddenly.
Etho made a pained sound and pushed the blankets away. A quick glance at his phone told him he had slept for a few hours, and it was now near dinner time–not that he was at all hungry. Much to his dismay the glass next to his bed was empty and his mouth was still drier than a desert.
He slipped out of bed, teetering unsteadily as he snatched the empty glass and grabbed a blanket off the bed, wrapping it around his shivering shoulders. He just needed to make it to the kitchen and back–easy. The walk was short, and he knew his own apartment like the back of his hand.
The moment he opened his bedroom door he winced, shutting his eyes against the blinding sun shining through the windows and the yellow-tinted overhead lights. He pulled the blanket up over his head like a hood and pressed on, down the hallway into the living room. Beef’s bedroom door was open, but Etho slipped by it quietly without looking inside.
Like the hallway, the kitchen was brightly lit. Still, he pressed on, ignoring his pounding headache. Water would probably help with that. So would getting off his feet. But he couldn’t have both, and his throat was burning.
The sweet smell of brownies hit him. Beef was stress baking. Great–he was definitely freaking out then. Etho wasn’t even sure if he could eat baked goods in this state.
He managed to get the fridge open and poured himself a glass of water, spilling a little bit of it before muttering to himself and looking around for a towel to clean it. Halfway through his search he got too tired to continue and slumped down at the kitchen table, eagerly drinking his water. The puddle on the counter would evaporate eventually.
“You’re awake,” Beef said brightly, swinging into the kitchen, and setting a potted plant that Etho had never seen before on the kitchen table.
He startled slightly, as he hadn’t heard Beef come in. “Yeah. Is that a new plant?”
“Nope,” Beef said quickly, opening the oven, and taking out the tray of brownies with a towel.
“Uh-huh.”
“Why is there water all over the counter?”
“It’s to feed your new plant with.”
Beef sighed and tossed the towel over the mess. “How are you feeling?”
Etho shrugged. “Good.”
“Good?”
“I feel like shit, Beef, what do you want me to say?”
“Yeah, sorry, alright. Uh… You wanna lay back down?”
“No,” Etho muttered, thinking back to the odd, fever induced dreams he had. If he didn’t fall asleep, he was just going to lay there in pain and misery, so he really couldn’t win.
“Go sit on the couch then, I’ll bring you something to eat.”
Etho gathered his blanket and glass of water. “Not hungry.”
“You need to eat something.”
He didn’t really have the energy to argue. His throat was starting to ache again, despite the water, and this wasn’t a fight he was going to win. Etho picked up his blanket and glass of water, and settled down on the couch, trying to get comfortable. He did decide to lie down, just because not having to hold himself up relieved a bit of pressure in his head.
The couch wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep in the world, but he wrapped himself in the blanket and tucked it up around his head to block out the light and cold air in the room. It would have been cozy, had his entire body not been throbbing in pain.
Beef joined him at some point–it could have been seconds or minutes, Etho couldn’t tell the difference. He tugged the blanket down, exposing Etho’s head to the cold air and bright light of the room. Etho kept his eyes shut and pretended to be asleep.
“If you eat now, you can take painkillers for the fever and pain.”
“No.”
“It’s your choice.”
He begrudgingly sat up, and Beef handed him a bowl of warm soup and plate of crackers, before sitting where his legs had been, and turning on the TV. Etho ate his soup slowly, which didn’t taste like much, but felt rather nice against his raw throat. The crackers, like before, still tasted like ash, but he ate a couple anyway since his stomach wasn’t protesting too heavily.
“I’m never gonna sleep tonight,” he complained, as Beef handed him a bottle of pills. Etho dumped two into his hand. “Not when I slept the entire day.”
“Still plenty of day left for you to be awake,” Beef commented. He sat on the floor with his laptop on the coffee table. “You usually go to bed late.”
“We’re missing shopping. All the deals, Beef.”
“There will be deals next weekend. Plus, now I get to finish my essay.”
Etho stared at the door longingly. Even if he wanted to go out, he didn’t think he had the strength or coordination to get dressed, let alone make it outside. He shivered, just imagining the temperature out there, wrapping the blanket tighter around his shoulders.
He ate a few crackers and managed a few bites of soup, but he hadn’t been hungry to begin with and eating wasn’t helping with his nausea. Etho laid back down, dragging a pillow under his head, and hiding under the blanket. He watched TV for a few minutes, and drifted off soon after.
===
It was dark when he woke, though not the middle of the night considering Beef was still up, hunched over his computer. Etho stared at him for a minute, but he didn’t appear to notice, engrossed with whatever he was working on.
“Beef,” Etho complained. His head still hurt, along with the rest of his body.
“Hi,” Beef said, startled by the intrusion. “Still sick?”
Etho glared at him.
“If you still feel bad tomorrow we can go to the doctor.”
He groaned and pulled the blanket over his head.
“If the fever doesn’t go away on it’s own-”
“It will be fine tomorrow,” Etho said firmly, trying to will it into existence. Even though it would still be the weekend, he didn’t want to spend more time in bed than strictly necessary. And if he got better, there might still be time for shopping…
“Do you want something to eat?” Beef asked, smoothly changing the subject.
“No.”
“I can switch the TV to something else.”
Etho grunted. He didn’t feel like trying to focus on it right now, especially since he was lying down, and would have to look at the screen at a ninety degree angle. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, but not the sort that would have him falling back asleep anytime soon.
“I’ll at least get you something to drink,” Beef said, clambering to his feet and heading into the kitchen, before answering his phone when it started buzzing in his pocket. He started talking to someone, but by their conversation, he couldn’t tell who.
“It’s fine, ‘s not like I’m using them,” he said. Etho had no idea what the hell he was talking about and had missed the first part of the conversation. “You’ll have to stop by and grab them though, I can’t leave Etho right now.”
Why not? Etho frowned. He was sick, but he wasn’t actively dying. Beef didn’t have to cancel his plans just because Etho didn’t feel well.
“He’s fine, just sick.”
“Not sick,” Etho mumbled from the couch. Beef didn’t have to stay all night.
“Ah, sorry, he’s recovering from a long day,” Beef said, returning to the living room with a glass of water. Etho didn’t have the strength to sit up and drink it. The effort might have killed him–he definitely wasn’t being dramatic. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, if you’re well enough to argue, you’re well enough to drink a glass of water,” Beef said, evidently seeing the look on Etho’s face. He set the glass down and returned to the kitchen, still on the phone.
Etho stared at the glass, considering how he could drink it with minimal effort. He closed his eyes.
“Maybe you should just go to bed,” Beef suggested. He was no longer on the phone. Etho didn’t even know how much time had passed. “It’s a bit early, but your bed might be more comfortable.”
“Maybe,” Etho mumbled. “You can… go. Don’t have to stay if you have stuff to do.”
“Nah, it’s not important. Plus I have work to do. I can tell you about my essay. It’s really interesting.”
Etho decidedly did not want to hear about Beef’s supposed interesting essay. He must have made a face because Beef said, “If it bores you enough, maybe you’ll fall back asleep.”
That sounded agreeable enough to him. He got cozy beneath the blanket once more, and shut his eyes. Beef began droning on about some ancient event and the resulting economic strife. It made little sense to Etho’s fever-addled brain, but he was distracted and vaguely entertained by it.
Sleep came easy.
===
Etho woke with his head covered by a blanket, and nearby voices that he couldn’t place. It took him a moment to register Beef’s familiar tone, along with another deep, grating voice. Beef said something, before his footsteps retreated off, deeper into the apartment.
He poked his head out of the blanket, wincing at the bright light shining in from the hallway. It took Etho’s eyes a moment to focus on the intimidating figure hovering in the doorway. He had gloved hands, and a metal plate over the space where one of his eyes should have been. Green light stared back at him.
“You,” Etho mumbled. He knew this guy… maybe. He taught a review section of a class Etho was in, and if Etho was being entirely honest, he was a bit of a bitch about grading. “You’re a grader,” he said. Doc… that was his name.
“Yeah,” Doc agreed, somewhat hesitantly. He glanced in the direction that Beef had gone. “I think you’re in one of the review sections I teach.”
Etho didn’t know why the hell he was here, or how Beef knew him. He made an affirmative sound, and dragged the blanket back over his head. Again, his sleep had been disturbed. Etho didn’t even know what time it was, but if Beef was taking house calls of all things, then it couldn’t have been the middle of the night.
Doc and Beef talked for a moment, but Etho wasn’t listening. If Beef learned any juicy gossip, he could just fill Etho in later.
His throat burned, and he coughed, hacking up half a lung as his head throbbed. Great. Etho’s eyes watered. Now he couldn’t even breathe in peace.
“You good?” Beef asked.
It took Etho a moment to realize Beef was talking to him. No. “Yes.”
The front door was finally closed and Etho slumped in relief. Now, he could rest. “Why did you bring that guy over?”
“Doc? He needed a tie. Sorry if we woke you.”
“Gonna… sleep now.”
“On the couch?”
He wasn’t eager to make the move elsewhere. Etho hummed and didn’t move. Much to his relief, Beef didn’t ask any questions.
===
Despite the fact Etho had not, in fact, run an entire marathon the previous day, his body seemed to have gotten a little confused in that regard. When morning came he woke slowly. Every single one of his muscles was tight and lethargic, and his head swam as though he hadn’t slept a wink.
Etho felt around under the blanket for his phone, groaning when the motion let the sunlight hit his face. He sat up, battling nausea for a moment. Light filtered in through the living room windows, and his phone informed him it was just after eight in the morning. Usually, that was the middle of the night for him, but in all fairness, he had spent the previous day bed bound.
Arms stretched overhead, he yawned, pleased to discover that while he felt largely horrible, it was a big step up from yesterday. Etho pressed his hand against his forehead. He no longer felt feverish, but he supposed he couldn’t determine it by feeling alone. He would have to dig up that thermometer Beef had.
Speaking of Beef, he was nowhere to be seen. Evidence of his presence was plain enough–his closed laptop was still on the coffee table, and he had left a glass of water and a spare blanket for Etho.
He wandered into the kitchen, still stretching out, grabbing a glass of water and the pills from the table in the hopes they would vanquish his headache. The tray of brownies Beef made yesterday was sitting on the stove, and Etho helped himself to one, suddenly realizing how hungry he was.
After a glass of water, two brownies, and a piece of toast, Etho felt more human than he had in the past day. It was a wonderful feeling, though he was still sick enough that he probably wasn’t going to be getting anything meaningful done today.
He found the thermometer, which helpfully informed him he still had a low grade fever, but had improved from yesterday. Etho could work with that, he could just slack off all day.
It was nine at this point, and Beef still hadn’t made his presence known. He always rose earlier than Etho, and he assumed Beef would have inquired about his health by now, had he been awake.
“Beef,” Etho called, wandering into the hallway. “Beef?” His door was open, but when Etho peered in, he was still curled up in bed. He rolled over at Etho’s call, with an unfocused gaze. “Uh-oh.”
“You got me sick,” Beef accused.
“I didn’t,” Etho immediately defended. “Disease doesn't travel that fast or whatever. Maybe… we both got it from elsewhere.”
Beef groaned and covered his face with a pillow. “This sucks, man.” His voice was muffled, but Etho got the gist.
“Sorry.”
“‘S not your fault.”
“I’ll go, uh… Get you water,” Etho said, trying to think about what Beef had done for him yesterday. He darted off into the kitchen and filled a glass, grabbing the bottle of pills too. He washed off the thermometer, then eyed the box of crackers Beef had given him too, and added those to the stack.
Was he too hot, or too cold? Etho didn’t know what he needed. Maybe a cup of tea? Sick people drank tea, right? He searched for some, but they didn’t have any.
Coffee… Caffeine sounded like a poor choice, and Etho didn’t think he would accept just a glass of hot water. Unless… hot chocolate, maybe? They might have some lying about. He would ask Beef what he wanted.
He left the kitchen, but found Beef had moved to the couch in the living room, and had brought several blankets with him. Etho handed him the glass of water, and set the rest of the things he brought on the table.
“I’ll just… water your plants,” Etho offered, feeling the need to make himself useful. Maybe this was why Beef resorted to baking in times of great stress, to fulfill the desire to do something. Luckily he had watered the plants many times before, and been yelled at for doing it wrong often enough that he was able to do it right by this point. Beef watched him, but didn’t comment on his work.
“Do you need anything?” Etho asked.
“Just come over here, and sit down,” Beef said, making a space next to himself.
“You feel warm,” Etho commented, grabbing the remote as he sat down.
“I’m sick.”
“You feel… extra warm.”
Beef passed him a blanket and Etho shut up. Despite his burst of energy that morning, Etho was reminded that he was still ill too. Sitting relieved the tension across his body, and he curled up under the blanket next to Beef.
“Can’t believe… you got me sick,” Beef joked, as Etho clicked the TV on.
“Maybe you just have a bad immune system.”
“Well, you got sick first, so that can’t be true.” He sounded rather smug.
Etho grumbled, but shut up. He didn’t know enough about the immune system to argue with him either.
They both watched TV for a few minutes, but it quickly became clear to Etho that he wasn’t going to be able to stay awake long. Beef was already drifting off next to him, not bothering to fight to stay awake. At least they didn’t have anything important to do today.
Less than ten minutes later, they were both asleep, splayed across the couch, sleeping the sickness away.