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Tracey had made a mistake, he knew. But he’d been hungry for days, his stomach continuing to complain at him for not eating enough or forgoing it entirely to make sure Misty and Ash got enough, and now that they’d made it to an island with a pokémon center and no shortage of food… well, his stomach was complaining for a different reason, at least. Thankfully, his loose clothing and the sound of Misty and Ash’s banter were enough to hide any evidence something was wrong as they all got ready for bed.
Then a hiccup escaped him, loud and sharp and slightly wet, and his companions both looked at him in concern, whatever they were talking about forgotten.
“You okay?” Ash asked.
“I’m fine,” Tracey assured them sheepishly, feeling his face heat up. “Just ate a bit too much, I think.”
Misty sighed. “It’s bad enough I have to keep reminding Ash that stuffing himself stupid every time we get to a town is a bad idea, now you too?”
“I won’t make a habit of it,” Tracey promised. He felt uncomfortable enough to make sure of that. “Don’t worry, okay? It’s just a little indigestion, I’ll be fine.”
“If you say so…” Misty still looked equal parts concerned and annoyed. “It’s a good thing you have an appetite again, at least. Do you want to take anything for it?”
“No, I probably just need to sleep it off,” Tracey said, feeling a twinge of guilt at the hint that Misty had been worried about him for a while. He dropped onto one of the beds and immediately regretted it when the impact jostled his already sore stomach, but managed to bite back a groan of discomfort. “Goodnight, guys.”
“Goodnight,” Misty and Ash responded almost in unison, going to settle into their own beds—Ash claiming the bunk above Misty’s, Togepi and Pikachu snuggling happily beside their respective trainers.
Tracey tried to get comfortable himself, nestling into the pillows… and swallowing hard against his nausea.
Sure, he was uncomfortable, but he’d be fine. At least he wasn’t hungry anymore.
Misty was woken by the sound of Tracey stirring on the other side of the room. He groaned softly, and in the dark Misty could see him tossing and turning like he was trying to find a comfortable position.
Then he made a choked noise and was swinging his legs over the side of the bed, on his feet in an instant, rushing for the bathroom affixed to their room.
Careful not to wake Togepi, Misty got up. In his haste, Tracey hadn’t closed the door or turned the light on. She winced at the sound of retching, but came in anyway, gently shutting the door behind her for the sake of the others’ sleep and Tracey’s dignity (what little of it the goof had), and turned the light on so it wasn’t pitch black in there.
It was only when Tracey whined loudly in protest from where he sat hunched on the floor, arms around himself, that she realized keeping the light off might’ve been a deliberate choice.
“Sorry,” she said. “Want me to turn it off?”
“It’s fine.” His voice was a little strained. “Just wasn’t expecting it. Sorry to wake you up with… that.”
“Don’t be,” Misty said, kneeling beside him. He looked awful—pale, a sheen of sweat on his face, a bit of vomit on his lip. She stood up only to grab a washcloth and run it under the sink, kneeling beside him again and wiping his face. He closed his eyes with a sigh, inclining his head into the contact and reminding Misty of Pikachu. “You obviously don’t feel well. Is that better?”
“A little,” Tracey answered. “Warning you, though, I… don’t feel done yet.”
Immediately, he jerked away and vomited into the toilet again.
“It’s okay,” Misty soothed, surprised to hear a gentleness in her own voice that was usually reserved for Togepi. “Don’t worry, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”
When the retching subsided and he raised his head, panting slightly, she pressed a hand against his forehead. He wasn’t burning up, but he felt a little too warm.
“You don’t have to stay,” Tracey said. “I know I’m gross right now, and it’s my own fault. I was just so hungry…”
A thought crossed Misty’s mind. Had Tracey been lying all those times he said he wasn’t hungry, that his stomach was bothering him, that he was too tired to feel like eating and just wanted to turn in early, that he just didn’t have much of an appetite lately? It wasn’t like Tracey to lie (and he was usually bad at it), but it was like Tracey to care so much he would put Misty and Ash’s well-being over his own.
She felt a pang of guilt that she hadn’t figured it out sooner. But she kept that to herself for now. “Honestly, you’re almost as bad as Ash sometimes.” Self-sacrificing idiots, the both of them. “You think you could take something?”
Tracey hesitated before answering. “I can try.”
“Good. Sit tight and try not to choke on your own vomit while I’m gone, I’ll be right back.” Misty left the bathroom and headed for where Tracey’s backpack rested on the floor—he carried most of the medicine, like Brock had. He carried less of it than Brock had, which would hopefully make it a little easier to find what she was looking for.
Unfortunately, there were still a bunch of little bottles and boxes to pull out, strain to read the label for in the dark, and put back when they weren’t what she was looking for—painkillers, allergy relievers, something called testosterone? Whatever that was, it probably wasn’t what she was looking for.
Finally, she found it—a pill bottle labeled stomach relief. It rattled when she pulled it out, and she felt a rush of relief that it wasn’t empty. Mission accomplished, she took it and Tracey’s water bottle back to the bathroom.
… Right in time to see him start retching again. Did he even have anything left to bring up?
Regardless, she returned to his side, lightly stroking his back until it stopped and he could catch his breath. His eyes were a little watery, and Misty wondered if he’d teared up from the strain of throwing up so much or if he was just that miserable.
He wiped them dry with the back of his hand, then did the same to his mouth. “Ugh.”
“I know,” Misty said. She opened the pill bottle and shook out a couple of pills, handing them to him, and opened his water bottle in case he didn’t have the strength to do it himself. “It says you can take two.”
Tracey nodded weakly, putting the pills in his mouth and taking a few tentative swallows of water. Then he turned his tired, earnest gaze on her with a weak smile. “Thanks, Misty.”
“It’s nothing,” she said. “Can I do anything else for you? Is there anything else that’d make you feel better?”
“Well, there is one thing. But it’s, uh…” Tracey looked away, blushing faintly. “… a little embarrassing.”
“I’ll do anything for you, Trace,” Misty replied. “Who cares if it’s embarrassing? It’s just us in here.”
“Will you… uh…” he trailed off again and instead of continuing, gently took her hand, guiding it to rest on his belly.
“That’s all?” She should’ve known it would be something that simple. Trust Tracey to be shy about something so silly. “Of course.”
She ran her hand in a gentle, clockwise circle around his navel. It didn’t seem like much, but he closed his eyes with a soft sigh, so it must’ve been working.
After a while, he finally seemed to relax, sitting back with his palms on the floor to support his weight. “A little more pressure, please?”
She did as he asked, carefully pressing just enough to feel his softness give beneath her touch, and his next sigh was downright blissful as he tipped his head back.
“Does it really feel that good?”
“After the night I’ve had, yeah,” he replied. “Warmth and pressure help so much.”
“Is it settling down?” Misty asked.
“I think so,” he said, opening his eyes and looking down at his stomach, which looked no different through his baggy shirt, like that’d tell him something. “Doesn’t feel like my guts are trying to turn themselves inside out anymore.”
“That’s… good.” Misty felt a pang of sympathy that he’d felt like that in the first place.
“Thanks for this. I don’t know what I would’ve—” he broke off, yawning into his hand “—done without you.”
“Spent the night miserable and alone on the floor, probably,” Misty said. “Do you feel like heading back to bed now?”
“In a minute,” Tracey said. He leaned against her ever so slightly, eyes closing again. “For now… this is pretty nice.”