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Spyder never got sick, ever.
He took care of his health without any flaws, immaculately, following each routine down to the smallest details, never missing a beat.
So why did he feel like absolute shit right now?!
From the second he got out, he could feel his head pounding, every bit of his body begging for him to rest, though he just brushed it off as after-effects of studying all night for a week or two straight, hoping it’d go away quickly or at least before he got to school.
Of course though, it didn’t go away.
By the time he reached school, the migraine had only gotten worse, now accompanied with stifled sneezes and barely held back coughs as his feet trudged through the damp grass of the school field to get to the entrance. His hand shook as he held his umbrella, just high enough as to not hit his head, though the pole nearly slipped from his grasp, his grip not tight enough to keep the object from swaying in the wind while raindrops fell pathetically on his clothes.
When he finally got under shelter, he shook his umbrella dry, watching as droplets of water flew off of the object and landed on the floor, before closing his umbrella and putting it into his bag and walking upstairs to his class.
The trip there felt like hell, and he wasn’t exaggerating. His legs felt perplexingly heavy yet strangely light at the same time, and for each step he climbed, he felt like he was about to fall over and black out, though he persisted. It didn’t help that his first class was on the top floor too, thanks to his history teacher’s annoyingly specific preferences for the view they’d get from their classroom.
Finally making it up to class, he threw his bag against the leg of his table and slumped into his chair, resting his head on the cool wood of the desk, the cold helping him ease his headache just a little. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to block out any light, before a tap on his shoulder made him startle and sit up immediately.
“You good?” One of his friends, Owo, had asked, concern etched all over his face.
Spyder merely nodded, too tired to actually reply, which didn’t help to wash away the worry from the other.
“Are you sure? You seem a little sick.” He questioned once more, bending down slightly to fix the position of the blond’s bag which had managed to fall flat somehow. “Actually, maybe not a little sick. You look like you could die soon.”
He only scoffed at Owo’s words, slightly amused by the overreaction.
“I’m fine, just stayed up a little too late yesterday.” His voice came out raspy, though he hoped the other hadn’t noticed. A few silent coughs bubbled up in his throat as he tried to stifle them, holding it back just for the sake of looking completely fine, despite the look from the other telling him that he wasn’t buying his excuses.
“Mhm… And looking deathly pale and half-alive was a part of your plan for today?”
“…”
Not wanting to push the other further, Owo stopped his interrogation and merely sighed, grabbing his bag and moving it to the desk beside Spyder’s, sitting down there and eyeing him.
“You’re too hard on yourself.” He commented, lips downturned into a slight frown.
“Am I?”
“Do you not see yourself right now?”
“I don’t have a mirror on me at all times-“ The blond started to retort, right before more coughs took over and made him double over, immediately alerting his friend who came to help him, rubbing slow circles on his back as he shook gently.
“You should probably go home.” Owo consulted, reaching down for his bag before the other stopped him, his hand curled around his wrist tighter than a sick person’s grip should be. The pink-haired student felt how clammy and warm the blond’s hands were, which did not help i. the slightest to make him feel better.
“Spyder, come on. Don’t be so stubborn.” He sighed exasperatedly.
“I’m fine.” The other adamantly insisted, seemingly not willing to get up from his chair.
Spyder now sat up properly, which only allowed Owo to see the dark circles under his eyes more clearly, along with his flushed face and ears.
“You clearly aren’t!”
“I’m fine. If I feel sick, then I’ll go home.” He snapped.
Just before Owo could retort or urge him to go home, the teacher had walked in, making him quit with his attempts before he got in trouble.
“I’ll deal with this during lunch…” The pink-haired student thought.
As the teacher walked in, arms full of papers and books as she made her way to the desk at the front of the class, she dropped all the contents in her arms down onto the surface, the impact causing a semi-loud noise to bounce off the walls that made Spyder flinch slightly, the sound making his pointed ears droop down sharply, which only earned another concerned glance from Owo, who had sat beside him. As she rambled on about the history of Shakespeare and his works, he zoned out, nearly falling asleep before catching himself, drinking some water to keep him awake.
The lesson passed on like a blur, the time being over before he even noticed, his trance only being interrupted when the teacher had exited the class, followed by the other students going to their next class as well. He groaned slightly at the thought of having to get up, but persevered either way, reaching for his bag (when did it suddenly get so much more heavier?) and making his way to history class.
Spyder was not having a good time.
You see, his history class was a combined class with his class, Class 2, and Class 1, due to the shortage of students in his class. It wouldn’t have been a problem any other day, but this time, it felt damn near hell. The increase of people in the room suddenly made the air more stuffy and the room more cramped, and the chattering of people only made it worse, making his ears ring distantly. He tried to place himself at the right corner of the class, further away from other students and the teacher, but even there it was crowded by a few groups, so he had resorted to sitting in the left corner, where Saparata and Thomas was sitting, along with another boy that he faintly recalled the name of (Fluixon, was it?).
The light-haired avian waved at him and made space for him, letting him lean against the wall (the kind gesture nearly made him think Saparata was an angel, his wings not making him look any less angelic), shooing his friends away to make space for him. As he sat down, Saparata’s glowing smile was instantly replaced with a more worried, softer one the second he managed to get a good look at the blond’s face.
“You feeling fine?” The avian asked, the crisp white wings that grew out of the lower sides of his face flapping slightly and gently, a puzzled expression blending in with the worry.
Spyder only nodded, humming quietly in affirmation, shutting his eyes in a feeble attempt to soothe the headache that still lingered since the morning. Saparata seemed to have connected the dots, with how averse to sound and light he was being at the moment, then moved to pull down the blinds slightly in an attempt to help the other in some way, which was greatly appreciated by the blond, even if it only helped a little.
The class passed by without much disturbances and discomfort, the idle chatter of the teacher and hushed comments of the other students tuning out as he tried to stay somewhat awake. Saparata remained by his side, arguing with Fluixon while Thomas and the rest of his friends watched, making sure not to raise their voices or snicker too loudly to avoid getting caught by the teacher, which ended up benefiting himself as well, allowing slight peace due to the quieter conversations that replaced the usual loud ones. At some point, the teacher had called him up to ask a question and make sure he was paying attention (which he wasn’t), but luckily, he already knew the answer, having studied the topic in solitude the nights prior.
The next class, maths, had been anything but abnormal. Schedules were followed and nothing was out of the blue, save for the occasional worried glances thrown at him by Owo or Thomas, who sat on both sides of him, with the former on the left and the latter on the right. The pair helped him through the work, which made him stress less about having to complete it before the lesson ended.
Everything was going decently well, except for the fact that Spyder did not, in fact, get better like he was hoping. If anything, the headache had gotten worse, his eyes aching every time something too bright had landed in his line of sight, he was feeling far more lethargic than earlier, and he practically had to physically prevent himself from trembling too much as to make it seem like he was feeling better, despite the fact that he was anything but.
Lunch rolled by faster than he had expected, the time that passed feeling less like four hours and more like thirty minutes. Owo had asked if he and Spyder could stay in class for lunch, due to the fact that the pair had to study for an upcoming quiz (which he mentally deemed to be absolutely bullshit, Owo had started studying weeks before the test was even announced.), and after he had gotten permission, he moved over to sit beside his table, pulling out a bag that contained two or three sandwiches, handing one over to the blond as he chewed on one himself. Spyder didn’t have the energy to eat though, remaining slumped in his chair and hunched over his table, forehead resting against the wood of the surface.
“Feeling better?” The pink-haired student asked, only earning a small shake of his head.
“Go home then.” He advised. “You’re practically useless if you’re dead on your feet. You won’t remember anything you’ve learnt.”
“We have a test later today though.” The blond complained, sitting up to face Owo, albeit with slight struggle, wincing as the sunlight from outside flashed his eyes.
“You can retake it.”
“It’ll be awkward though, being the only one having to retake.”
“Since when did you care?”
“I always have.” His words earned an eye roll from the other.
Just as Owo had opened his mouth to comment (or force him to go home), the door of the classroom had been shoved open, another brown-haired student standing in front of the entry, a slightly bored expression plastered all across his face as he stared at the pair.
“Where were you guys? I was waiting for you since the beginning of lunch, you know.” He said as he walked in, taking a seat beside Spyder, almost immediately noticing the mildly grim silence that enveloped the whole classroom.
Owo merely glanced at Schpood, tilting his head towards the blond, whose head was still buried in his desk surface, trying to signal that he wasn’t feeling well at all, and that the brunet should probably help get him home, silently praying that he would get the memo and help. Luckily, he wasn’t that dense, and managed to understand what was going on, moving closer to the pair, and ultimately, Spyder.
“Spyder?” The older called out, poking at his side gently, receiving no response from the sick student. He tried to call his name once again, a tad bit louder this time, but failed to gain the attention of the person whose name he was calling out.
Noticing his failure, Owo tried to help as well, shaking Spyder a little, muttering something that Schpood hadn’t managed to quite catch, still not getting a reaction from the blond. The two of them glanced at each other in worry, although the brunet seemed to be panicking internally.
“Is he unconscious? What if he’s dead?” He blurted out, looking at Owo with the most worried expression he had ever seen the student have.
“Don’t overreact. I think he just had a cold, but a really bad one. He’s maybe asleep.” Owo replied.
“With his face lying flat on the table?”
“His definition of comfort is… weird, to say the least.”
“Should we bring him to the sick bay?”
“Probably.”
Upon agreement, the two managed to get Spyder to the sick bay, Schpood having carried him on his back since Owo claimed he couldn’t carry him without major struggle, and asked the nurse if they could keep him there for the meanwhile. The nurse said that they could, but not without asking a few questions on why he hadn’t gone home or visited the nurse at minimum.
She told the pair that she would call his parents to inform them that he wasn’t feeling well, but Schpood told her that Spyder’s parents weren’t currently home, the two of them being off on a business trip somewhere overseas, only complicating the situation even more.
Everyone was at a dead end on what to do, until the nurse came up with an idea.
“Why don’t you bring him home? I’ll write a permission slip to allow the both of you to go back and cut school, and you,” the nurse pointed at Owo, “can go inform your teachers that they’ve gone home.”
Owo seemed content with the idea, although the same couldn’t be said for Schpood.
He immediately stood up straight, a slight pink dusting his cheeks as he searched through his mind for an excuse to not do that, but of course, the moment he tried to say something, the words died in his throat. Seeing one of his friends so sickly was something he didn’t particularly enjoy, especially not if it was one of his closest friends, if not closest, and he knew that Spyder would do (more or less) the same if he got sick, so he put all of his excuses in his back pocket to use for another time, and nodded meekly.
After the nurse had signed the slips, and Owo had gone back to class, Schpood shook Spyder gently, trying to rouse him awake, this time succeeding. He explained the current situation to the blond, who didn’t manage to retain most information having just woke up a few seconds prior, but still nodded along anyway, trying to seem like he understood.
Noticing how he agreed with the plan, Schpood smiled, albeit less brightly than usual, and reached a hand out to help the other stand up, before dragging him to class to get his stuff. By the time they managed to retrieve Spyder’s bag and books, lunch had just ended, meaning the classroom slowly started to get full and busy, but luckily, the pair managed to get out before it was too crowded, and walked down to the entry of school. On the way there, Schpood took out his phone and sent a message to Cynikka, asking her to pack his bags for him and bring it to his house when school ended.
When they got to the entrance, the brunet noticed how heavily it was raining, mumbling a few curses silently to himself. The blond seemed to have noticed, and assuming he hadn’t brought an umbrella (like always), he pulled his one out and handed it to him without a second thought, almost like it was a habit (which it technically was).
“You won’t have an umbrella then.”
“You don’t have one right now. Besides, we can share.”
“But it’ll be cramped then.”
“It’s fine, it doesn’t bother me. Unless it bothers you.”
Despite being sick, he still had the same amount of energy to bicker back and forth with the older.
“Fine, let’s just go.” He declared after a brief moment of silence, grabbing the umbrella in the blond’s hands and opening the umbrella above them, his eyes catching the smallest hint of a satisfied smile on the other’s face as they walked side-by-side, closer to each other than usual as the raindrops fell onto the fabric of the umbrella, creating small pattering sound.
Schpood didn’t know whether the non-existent distance between the pair was due to the lack of space under the umbrella that caused the two to squeeze in underneath or the fact that Spyder was sick and most likely feeling far too lethargic to walk straight by himself, but either way, it didn’t help him feel any less flustered than he already was. Physical touch among the two wasn’t uncommon— far from it actually, if the usual hugs from behind, messing with each others’ hair or hand-holding during cold days said anything. However, the situation at hand was nothing like those times. Schpood always initiated it, no matter the circumstance, not the other way around. Sure, there were some days where Spyder would reciprocate the attention more than he usually would. but he never started it. The thought that he felt comfortable enough around Schpood was already his face warm, and he didn’t need that at the moment, so he shoved the assumptions aside, trying to focus on leading his friend back home.
Once he had finally gotten Spyder to his house, he stood at the porch, making sure to stay under the sheltered areas as to not get wet. He eyed Spyder, waiting for him to unlock the door. The blond took a moment to understand why he was looking at him funny, but once he did, he fumbled to get his keys out, nearly dropping them several times, before managing to u lock the door, walking in without much grace as the brunet followed suit. The two took off their shoes, Spyder placing his on the shoe rack while Schpood left his on the floor, a clear contrast between the two showing.
Spyder immediately went to lie down on the couch, burying his face in pillows that he had left out the night before, not doing much to get his bag off his shoulders, socks still on and jacket hanging loosely off of one shoulder, the coldness far too much for him at the moment. The brunet trailed behind him, arms held out slightly in case the other passed out at any given moment, watching as he just flopped down onto the soft cushion, shivering slightly.
“Take off your bag before you go to sleep.” The older reminded, eliciting only a whine from the other as he shifted to lie down on his side.
“It’s too cold.” He replied, ignoring his words.
“I’ll turn down the air conditioning, just take off your bag.”
“Fine.” He complied, shuffling his bag off as it fell to the floor, then turning once more to lie down flat on his back.
True to his word, the brunet did go and turn down the air conditioning, gaining a small sigh of relief from the other.
Not long after he gave the younger the right medicine and a sufficient amount of water, Spyder fell asleep on the couch, a blanket draped over him as he rested peacefully, Schpood sitting beside him with his phone in hand. He messaged his parents, informing them that he’d be home late, before texting Owo and asking him to come over and bring some soup and other snacks over to the two. He originally wanted to cook by himself and make something simple like chicken soup or porridge, but he remembered the last time he tried to boil rice, which ended horribly, so he decided otherwise.
An hour later, the blond woke up, his head aching significantly less than earlier, although the dull thrum still remained. He looked around the living room, expecting the other to already be gone, instead finding otherwise as the older spared him a glance, before shutting his phone down and moving to face him. He didn’t quite know why the sight made him happier than he was before, why he felt relieved that he didn’t leave him while he slept, but he blamed it on his sleep-addled and ill mind.
“You feeling better?” Schpood asked, earning a small nod from the blond.
Soon later, Owo arrived with the food and a few drinks and snacks he managed to buy on his way there, Schpood letting him in as the three sat around the coffee table in the living room, Spyder still on the couch with his jacket zipped up and the blanket draped over his shoulders, Owo sitting opposite of him, still in his school uniform, and Schpood sitting beside the pink-haired student, letting the blond have his own space and also reducing his chances of catching whatever sickness he had. While they ate, some random movie that Spyder downloaded years ago played on the television, serving as background noise as the trio laughed at stupid jokes or stories that they shared amongst themselves, drinks still on the table and a bag of salt and vinegar chips open, untouched.
After they ate, they decided to watch another movie, one they’d actually pay attention to instead of ignore like they did with the former. Spyder didn’t mind watching whatever the other two wanted to put on, having to specific preferences, however, the same couldn’t be said for Schpood and Owo, the two constantly fighting over which film would be better. Owo kept insisting that they should watch The Titanic, a classic masterpiece dead set on making you cry, earning nothing but loud complaints from the oldest among the three, who argued saying that it would be too boring and they’d all be asleep before the movie even got into the climax. Meanwhile, Schpood suggested watching a comedic horror movie, backing up his suggestion by saying that the hilarious set-ups and bits would help even out the terrifying jump-scares that would keep them awake, the younger retorting, rambling about how Spyder shouldn’t be watching horror movies while sick, gaining himself a small comment from the brunet, something along the lines of “boring party-killer” being spat out from his mouth. The whole argument was quite amusing to the blond, up until the pair looked at him and asked to defend them, making him choose a side.
Eventually, Owo lost the debate, Schpood simply too stubborn to give up, as they settled for some horror movie made back in the 2000’s with low graphics and bad CGI and loud, occasionally inaudible dialogue between protagonists, all three sitting on the couch with Spyder in the middle, Owo to his right and the other to his left, all squished next to each other with two blankets draped over them and pillows scattered all over the couch. Eventually, mid-movie, Spyder fell asleep, clearly tired and unable to watch the terrible graphics of the film, his head lolling to his side, light snoring barely audible below the loud screams from the movie. The lack of movement and reaction from him made Owo look over, who noticed the blond sleeping, whisper-yelling the brunet’s name, gesturing to the student between them. The other took notice, before shrugging and turning back to the movie, earning a slight scoff from him, a small smile tugging at the edge of his lips.
It wouldn’t hurt to stay the night, he thought. After all, they couldn’t leave a sick person alone, even less so if it was their friend.