Chapter Text
Fanny sat in her room, groaning aloud at the familiar feeling of queasiness.
She tossed and turned, hoping for a sense of relief that never arrived in the end. Sick again? Talk about a shitty week. She still had to deal with the constant hatred that pooled up within her, never threatening to leave. Even at her most vulnerable moments, Fanny couldn’t help but feel a disgusting sense of annoyance towards anything and everything.
Yet the rage seemed to dull by the growing brain fog, a numbing sensation she never got used to, no matter how many times she felt sick—which was quite often.
She would have to suck it up for now; it’s not as if she could skip today’s challenge, even with Two’s kind gestures. Ugh, Two. She didn’t want to think about it, about them, especially not in this state.
She stared at the ceiling, her thoughts slipping out of reach every time she tried properly thinking. The world around her began to blur into a mess of shapes, colours, and oddly vague sounds.
A white noise hummed in the background; her eyes began to ache.
She wanted sleep so desperately—she could feel the 4 hours starting to catch up to her, yet her body clung on, holding onto the sting of sickness. Sounds bled together, awfully stimulating.
Yet a bold noise seemed to stand out in particular.
“Urgh— What do you want?!” Fanny called out, despite her pain. Her throat was on fire, even after the sheer amount of water she drank earlier.
A kind voice replied.
“Fanny? Are you okay? Two is preparing everything for today already.”
Great, now she had to deal with this.
She gripped her bedsheets, pulling them up just above her mouth. Of course, she had to be bothered the one time she couldn’t handle as well as she normally did. She did not have the energy for this today.
The door opened ajar, screeching.
“Hello? You here?”
An annoyingly caring person entered the room. Tree. Oh, Fanny had some real strong opinions about Tree, thats for sure. But right now, all she wanted Tree to do was leave her alone. Or maybe get her a nice big bowl of Green Gazpacho, that would probably be okay too.
“Mmhm, it’s pretty obvious I’m here,” She mumbled, turning on her side and looking in Tree’s general direction. “What do you want?”
Tree stepped into the messy room, closing the door behind him. He had a look of sympathy in his eyes—or was it pity? Fanny assumed it was the latter. “I just wanted to check up on you. Are you feeling well?”
That caught her a little off guard. Fanny put a hand on her stomach, returning her gaze back to the wall. Wasn’t it quite obvious she was not fine and healthy?
She let out a weak noise. She desperately wanted something to eat, yet felt her stomach churn at the thought of food in general.
“Does it look like it? I hate when you act oblivious!” She felt increasingly drained by each word. Although she disliked company, she knew Tree didn’t mean harm, or at least not for the most part.
Yet he persisted, walking further into her room and making his way over to where Fanny’s bed was. She wanted to stop him—to shout at him and make him leave the room, but she knew she needed the company, especially at the state she’s in now. She rubbed her eyes and dragged her body to sit up.
“I assumed so. Would you like something to eat or drink? I don’t mind getting anything.” Tree reached out and grabbed an empty glass from Fanny’s nightstand. Right, she had almost forgotten how her room was basically a dump.
She remained silent for a few moments, finding herself unable to breathe in any nice air.
“Um, a water would be fine.” As much as she wanted to shut down his offer, she didn’t think she could stand the constant feeling of her throat being ripped apart any longer. She grabbed a tissue from a small packet and blew her nose, letting out a small groan afterwards. God, she didn’t have to be this vulnerable in front of Tree out of everyone.
He took another empty can from the floor and nodded before turning his back to Fanny.
“Got it—I'll be back soon, then.” He paused, cracking open the bedroom door once again.
As Tree left, Fanny was left alone with her thoughts. Left alone to think about that seemingly small interaction with him. Why was it always him to be the one to care about her, anyway? It’s not like she’s someone close to him—if anything, she’s probably his last choice of person. After all, that’s how it has always been: always the last option—a ditch effort, and never someone to rely on or someone people wanted to be around.
That rule doesn’t apply for Tree, apparently.
...
Fanny thought about Tree.
He didn’t lie when he said he’d be back soon; it was only a couple minutes later that Fanny found her thoughts being interrupted by someone’s footsteps coming closer from down the hall. She coughed, watching as Tree stumbled back into the room, carrying a glass of water over to her bedside and leaving it next to her lamp.
She stared at the glass, not daring to look at him.
“Do you need anything else?” He watched Fanny fidget with her sleeve.
“Not really, I guess,” The tissue she was previously holding was thrown into her garbage bin, and she laid down. The heat of the room was only now catching up to her—she reached for the cold water.
Tree let out a breath, glancing around her room. He didn’t judge though, he never did; he always kept his thoughts quiet and to himself. Although she’d never admit it, Fanny wished she was like him in that aspect.
He noticed the empty pack of painkillers.
“I hope you haven’t taken too many today,” He commented, giving Fanny a pitiable look.
She set the glass back down after taking what felt like too many drinks, yet her body still complained, her head still ached.
“I hate how much you care; I’ve only taken a couple.”
Tree doubted that. Although she had a rough and closed off exterior, he was patient enough to learn about her harmful tendencies. He didn’t want her to be in pain, but he was conflicted on getting her more.
“Okay, whatever you say, then,” He came over to her bed and crouched down next to her. It was a change from him speaking to her while standing up or elsewhere.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” As the proximity was apparent, she backed up. She wasn’t used to people being this close to her— especially not while she’s sick. Her already warm face heated up a little.
“Sorry, I can leave if you'd want,” He stood up again, and Fanny felt something change deep within her. Although she wasn't overly used to it, she felt herself getting addicted to the feeling already.
She sat up in bed, rubbing the back of her head “No, you can stay, it's just...” She didn't know what to say or how to say it. How could she explain that she now wants him to come back after telling him to leave?
“I hate how embarrassing this is to say,” she blurted, staring at the wall instead of Tree. Looking at Tree was too embarrassing in this moment. He was probably judging how odd she sounded right now.
Tree stood there, confused. He occasionally scanned over to see how Fanny was feeling, but for the most part stayed silent.
“I kind of didn’t mind it,” She rubbed her eyes again, an excuse to not look at how he was reacting. An excuse to not have to bear with the fact her face was heating up again for some odd reason. An excuse to not see Tree trying to not laugh before going back to his original position.
He went back to his original position. He didn’t ask why. He actually listened to her.
“That’s alright. I can stay here for as long as you want,” He gave Fanny a soft smile, reaching his hand out to run through her hair. Weirdly enough, she didnt mind it all too much. It was different from the usual uncomfortable silence she had with everyone else. It made her feel...
She didn’t know how she felt about it. All she knew was that it was soothing, despite her current state.
“I don’t want to get you sick. Why are you doing all of this?” She moved away from his touch, the growing emptiness inside of her instantly beginning to show once again.
Tree kept his hand rested near where it was before, but remained silent. Fanny spoke again when he didn’t.
“Hello? I hate when you go deep in thought like that,” She fixed her hair to how it was before Tree messed it up. Just for a moment, she kind of wished he was back to blabbering on and on like he usually did with the other death pact members, and not her room taking care of her like she’s a young child.
“Sorry,” He mumbled, and Fanny really wanted to tell him to stop acting so mysterious yet so pitiable at the same time. She knew she couldn’t, though. Whether she wanted to face it or not, the company was nice and she was just being her usual whiny self.
She coughed, and a striking pain went through her body again.
“Look, Fanny, I—” He paused, taking his time to think his words over. He was doing a terrible job at pretending as if he didn’t feel bad for Fanny, and it angered her. She couldn’t understand: why couldn’t he just decide if he wanted to stay or not? It seemed like an obvious decision to her.
“I want to be here and comfort you, but I can’t tell if you want me here or not,” He looked in the general direction of the back wall.
“Can you tell me straight?”