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It started with a cough.
Maelle had squinted at him the first time she'd caught it. Perhaps questioning whether or not she had truly heard it, which to her defense wasn't unlikely that she'd missed it. Verso was making it a point to hide it, after all. They couldn't afford to be slowed down by something so silly. Besides, he was immortal: he would get over it within a day, surely. Aline's blasted power wouldn't let him so much as brush with death, and he’d encountered far more dangerous things than a cough. Esquie’s poison mushrooms, Nevrons and their pointy weapons, even that blasted snake in the sky that had a penchant for swallowing him whole.
So, no. He wasn’t sick. Obviously not.
"You don't look so good," Maelle remarked, an achingly familiar concern in her tone as Verso joined the team at the fire.
"I'm fine. Tired, maybe, from that explosive game at the Gestral Beach." A mockery of volleyball if he had ever seen one, and certainly much deadlier. "Only Gestrals would think to throw explosives at each other for fun."
The redheaded teen giggled some. "I didn't think I'd ever see you mess up like you did."
"It was a calculated error, actually."
"Uh-huh. I'm sure."
"It got me cooled off a bit," Verso pointed out somewhat smugly. "Something you’ll probably need yourself, Miss Spicy."
"Ooo, I’m so scared."
"I think we can all agree it's been a long day," Lune replied simply, swiftly, interrupting the pair as she deposited more wood into the fire. "What with all the unplanned swimming and all."
"It was rather nice, though," Sciel piped in, settling herself atop one of the logs, leaning over to nudge at Gustave as he fished out their utensils and rations for the evening. "To have a day just to have fun."
Gustave chuckled softly. "Yeah. I guess it was."
"You should have joined in! Your aim's always been really good."
"Watching from the sidelines was more than enough excitement for me."
"Ugh, you’re such an old man," Maelle teased.
"Hey! I’m not even the oldest, Verso is!"
It was hard to stay tense as the Expeditioners chattered together, a smile teasing the corner of his lips upwards. Taking them to the Gestral Beach had been his idea, and it had paid off in the end. Watching Maelle scale their obstacle courses like it was second nature, fiery red hair tied back in a ponytail, while Gustave had fretted most of the time. Verso hadn't missed the way Sciel and Lune had spent tome together in the shade, talking quietly amongst themselves as far away from the water as they could get.
This is what the Canvas had been originally for. Fun.
So being dunked into the sea by an over exuberant sakapatate had been a small price to pay, even if he was absolutely developing the mother of all headaches.
"I’m going to check on Monoco," he declared to no one in particular, ignoring the way he felt Maelle’s eyes burn in the side of his skull. She was too observant for her age: maybe she could see something in his chroma. He blinked a few times as the fire in front of him swirled, willing it to stay still in front of him. "He's been quiet for too long."
"Are you sure you're alright?" Gustave asked, his brows furrowing down.
"Tired, like I said." It felt almost impossible to put on one of those smiles he knew to fluster the engineer, but try he did anyway. "I'll get over it."
He didn't wait to see what anyone else's expression might be, mindful of the log as he stepped over it so he wouldn't trip. The last thing he needed was to fall on his face. They'd never let him live it down.
His head really did hurt. Everything did, really. As much as he loved the gestrals, they could be an awful lot sometimes.
Quiet should help.
His posture sagged once he was out of eyesight, steadying himself against the closet rock wall he could find with one hand while the other held his poor head. He cleared his throat of the faint scratchiness it held, pushing himself to stand as his gaze swept around the area in search of the gestral. In theory, their little camp site was cleared of the nearby Nevrons — most likely Monoco's doing, and Verso was sure he wouldn't hear the end of it if he didn't pick up the slack — so that left him to wander and keep an eye out for other potential wildlife.
Away from prying eyes, he could potentially admit he wasn't feeling his absolute best. His head felt stuffed with cotton, a mounting pressure behind his left eye building to nigh unpleasant levels. The soreness was likely on account of having to fend off literal gestrals being thrown at him, yet a good roll of the shoulders wasn't helping all that much. His breath was rattling in a way that spoke less of a broken bone and more of illness, aching deep in his lungs that no amount of throat clearing would help with.
He pressed a hand just at his ribs to ease some of it. A night of rest should be more than enough. The benefits of Maman's gift and all. It would be like it never even happened.
Verso shuddered as he lifted a hand to his half-cloak, tugging some on the fur to bring it in just a bit closer to his neck. The night itself was a little chilly, clear skies as always. A little more blurry than usual, dancing in his vision as the stars swayed. He closed his eyes as a tired sigh passed through his lips, letting himself bask in the quiet of nature for a moment. A part of him was trying to see if he could hear Monoco's bell sounding from wherever the Gestral had wandered off to.
Sitting with Monoco sounded nice as hell right now. He wouldn't even have to think: the Gestral would be content to sit in silence, polishing those Nevron feet. Something to keep their attention and their hands busy, fighting the usual restless energy.
Not that Verso had much energy at the moment.
He was sure he'd zoned out almost entirely at this point. He could scarcely hear but for a muffled something from somewhere... somewhere. Far enough that he was relatively sure it was the others at the campfire, their voices drifting out into the wilderness.
He should probably talk to them about that. Too much louder and they'd inevitably summon Nevrons nearby.
Where had Monoco gone?
His eyelids felt unusually heavy, and he pinched at the bridge of his nose, rubbing at the corner of his eyes. Something, anything to maybe keep up the façade just a few more minutes.
He missed as his other hand reached to steady himself.
And—
Oh.
That was the sky and a blob of darkness blocking it.
Why was it so damn cold?
Blinking didn't clear it away, not really. It was a bit infuriating. The Canvas's sky was one of his favourite things to look at: the stars didn't quite blink the same way they did in his memory, and there was an unnatural rhythm to them at times, but it was still fascinatingly beautiful: a joint effort both by his real-world counterpart's childish wonderment and the improvement created by Maman's effort for realism in her grief. It was close enough to provide a decent distraction, let his thoughts wander. Sometimes he'd join Sciel in speaking to the stars, and sometimes he'd just pretend that they were old friends watching over him.
So. Giant blob blocking his view of them? Not wholly appreciated, especially when those stars were dancing in front of him.
Verso flinched as a hand pressed against his head, leaning into the strange coolness. It was cold, yes, but it felt good against his skin. Tantalizingly so, drawing a quiet noise of approval out of him. If he'd been any less dizzy, he might have scolded himself for it.
His body hurt too much for him to care.
"Putain. He's burning up."
He cracked one eye open — when had it closed? — as Gustave's muffled voice registered above him. He looked worried, almost as worried as the day he'd shown off a bit of Verso Magic to lighten the mood. Had he lost a limb again? He'd have to find it.
There was a sturdy arm around his back, the feel of metal digging into his shoulder with the barest twitch. Another slid under his legs, and the world moved dizzyingly fast. At least he was leaned against something sturdy and warm. He buried his face against it, willed his arms to tuck in close so that he might bask better in that warmth.
"I knew it! He is sick!" Maelle's voice, as distant as it was, rang obnoxiously loud and clear in the little space left in his overstuffed skull, and rankled at his pride.
"Not sick," he countered, injecting as much defiance as he could into it.
"He's definitely sick." Monoco had joined in, the old bastard. Where had he been hiding this whole time?
"'m not." Why did his voice sound so weak? Monoco was never going to let him live it down.
"Lune, we still have supplies, right?"
"Yes, but we'll need to gather more—"
"I can go—"
"—do that, and someone else—"
Verso gave up in his valiant attempt to keep track of the conversation sometime around when his back met solid ground. Mostly solid, anyway, as there was a slight give. Not exactly as soft as his bed back in the manor, but soft enough that it made things bearable as his head met plush pillow. Hands had started to tug lightly at his uniform — unbuckling his cape, pushing aside his tunic and trying to wrangle one of his arms out of a sleeve. Good luck to them, he decided, because he'd last the strength to move that arm sometime between now and several eons ago.
He'd deny that it sent a prickle of fear through him.
Verso blinked blearily when Gustave's face came into view. When he could connect that stupidly handsome mustache to the arms working on his uniform.
"At least buy me dinner first," he stated rather bluntly. He felt the flinch of hands on his torso as Gustave's shoulders rose up to his ears, felt the tug of a smirk on his face at roughly the same time someone snorted loudly in amusement.
"All these layers aren't helping you," Gustave chided, voice a little tight. Verso helped him by sitting up, just enough, for his coat and tunic to be pulled aside. "What other— do you feel sick sick or—"
"Not sick." He was adamant about that, thank you very much. It might have been a little more convincing had the world not spun out from beneath him, and Gustave had to grab him by the shoulders to lay him down gently.
"Just—" Gustave groaned quietly, his too-soft brown eyes flicking up, presumably to someone else, before falling back down to Verso. He pulled a blanket he'd produced from seemingly nowhere up over Verso. "—warn me before you reach that point. Please."
Verso hummed at that. An agreement, he supposed, for the courtesy of being given a damn comfortable blanket. He blinked a few more times, dozing lightly to the sound of activity around him. It was kind of pleasant, he had to admit. Listening to the goings-on of the others throughout their encampment. From Lune's soft murmurs into the Expedition Journal to Sciel and Maelle doing something or other with cards and dinner. Monoco, for all he seemed adamant to maintain distance, often was lured over by promises of help to polish those damn Nevron feet and chatters of their battles from earlier in the day.
The faint splash of water melded almost perfectly into the background. Splish-splash, like something was moving through it, water dripping back into the greater collective, before he felt the chill touch of a cold rag placed atop his forehead.
Okay, he decided, that did feel good. Just enough to make him crack open his eyes, for matching grey-blue eyes and fiery red hair to swirl into his vision.
"Hey there, old man," Maelle teased, her touch feather-light. "Guess not even immortality saves you from the common cold, hm?"
Verso opted to grumble, refusing to dignify that with a response.
It didn't seem to matter as her gaze flit back up to Gustave. "You sure you'll be okay with watch and him?"
"Our perimeter's safe enough," came the reply. "Besides, you forget who stayed up with you most nights when you were sick."
There was more noise. More words. Eventually Maelle's blurry face left his field of view, watching her go back towards her own bedroll to settle in for the night. Far enough away that her outline looked so small and miniscule, like the Gestrals he'd make out of his paintbrushes—
No. Not his. Not his.
He flinched lightly as sword-worn fingers brushed ever-so-delicately through his hair, sweeping the sweat-slicked strands away from his face as best that could be managed.
"Sorry," Gustave murmured, drawing away. "Didn't mean to startle you."
"'s fine," he rasped back, because it was. It always was. There was no use in apologizing to someone like him.
Fuck, his thoughts were spiraling.
"You look like you've got something on your mind."
Verso made a noncommittal noise at that. Neither a confirmation or a denial. They couldn't call him out on it if he wasn't outright lying, and he'd probably be forgiven for being too out of it to string together a proper thought.
Metal hand met the curve of his jaw and he found himself leaning into the touch more than was strictly polite, leaning into the cool touch against heated skin. Oh, but that did feel particularly good. Gustave chuckled softly above him. "I thought you might like that."
"Why's it cold?" Verso asked, purely to reign in his thoughts.
"The temperature out here, mostly. And a picto to help keep things cool."
He turned his head into Gustave's metallic palm, letting it cup against his cheek as he held the engineer by the wrist to keep him steady. There was soft chiding he frankly didn't pay much attention to, the loss of coolness over his forehead, but that didn't exactly matter in the moment. Fingertips pressed gently into his temple where they were trapped, thumb stroked gently against his cheek in soft, sweeping motions. Gustave held him so gently, like he mattered, and it felt unbelievably good.
Tightness twisted sharply in his chest, and Verso swallowed past the lump in his throat when Gustave brushed his hair aside again, this time with his flesh hand.
"Why don't you admit to being sick?" Gustave asked softly, quietly. His voice held almost a deep baritone to it, an octave lower than he usually was. There was no judgement, no admonishment. Just a simple curiousity so innate to the engineer that Verso would have to be a fool not to notice it for what it was. A tone so gentle that it had pinpricks building in the corner of his eyes, burning right alongside the fever that was ravaging through his body.
Immortality or not, being sick was a miserable experience.
"Didn't want to cause worry," he settled with, grey-blue eyes focused quite firmly on Gustave's knee in his vision. He wasn't sure he could handle looking up at the moment.
"I think you might have missed the mark on that." Gustave didn't draw his metal hand away, though the flesh one moved out of vision. Another splish-splash, the faintest attempt at what Verso assumed was squeezing water out of a rag, and he found himself shuddering as a slightly-too-wet rag was plopped back on his head with a soft 'sorry.'
"'m slowing us down now. I should be the one apologizing."
"A day of rest won't hurt us."
"It might."
"Verso." And ah, there was the chiding now. Still gentle in its delivery, but there was a furrow to Gustave's brow. "Even you need to rest. We're worried because we care."
He forced out a breath, too-quick as his breathing was. Maybe if he swallowed that lump in his throat back down, it might make things settle down and hurt less. "You shouldn't."
"But we do," came the counterattack. Gustave used his metal hand to lightly tip Verso's gaze back up to meet his. "No matter how much you think otherwise. You're unfortunately very stuck with us. So let us take care of your stubbornly cute self."
That was a lot of revelations at once, and he wondered if he was blinking slow on purpose or because he was still stuck on processing. What could he even really say to that? Not a whole lot in his current state, granted, but he couldn't just... not say something. So.
"You think I'm cute?"
There was shock of surprise on Gustave's face that accompanied the snort of amusement escaping the engineer. He leaned back, though he didn't pull his metal hand away and left it to Verso's possession. There was some movement, some adjustment as Gustave made to lay down on the ground beside him. It hardly looked comfortable. Yet when he released the other's metal wrist, that hand only slunk further in to cradle his head properly.
"Get some rest, Verso. We'll be right here for you."
Rest... Rest sounded good. Really good right about now.