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The hour was late enough that the street outside had gone still, save for the occasional car rumbling under the streetlights.
The world outside seemed muffled through the fog of Jax's exhaustion. His backpack felt heavier with every step up the stairs, straps digging into his shoulder as if to punish him for insisting on walking again.
They had told him a hundred times to just take the bus, but Jax always brushed it off with a shrug or a smirk.
By the time he got to the apartment door, he wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten there or when he'd arrived. His keys clinked faintly in his hand as he fumbled with the lock, half tempted to just lie down in the freezing hallway.
Inside, Ragatha’s head turned from the couch the moment she heard the door creak open.
“Welcome home, Jax! Your portion’s in the fridge.” Her tone was bright but edged with that practical warmth she carried like second nature. “It should still be good if you heat it up.”
Jax’s voice came out quieter than anyone expected. “Not hungry.”
Then he slipped down the short hall toward his room, closing the door not with his usual slam, but with a soft click.
Ragatha stared. “That’s… not normal.”
“Maybe he’s just tired?” Pomni offered, half-hopeful. She sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by art supplies, a mug of tea going cold beside her. “Midterms or something?”
“Could be…” Ragatha said, though she didn’t sound convinced.
“Or,” Gangle said from the corner, “he’s… getting sick again...”
That earned a collective pause. They all remembered last time, how Jax’s usual cockiness had dissolved into a shivering mess on the couch for two days straight, fever burning through him until he was too dazed to argue when Ragatha made him take medicine.
Zooble rubbed the back of their neck. “Didn’t he just get over that?”
Ragatha nodded slowly. “A few days ago. Maybe he pushed too fast.”
No one wanted to say it, but they all thought the same thing. Jax wasn’t exactly the type to take care of himself properly.
“Maybe he’s just tired.” Ragatha said, though her brow knit. “But he hasn’t skipped dinner since he got sick...”
Zooble lifted their head from where they’d been assembling something out of scraps of wire and plastic on the coffee table. “Is he still on antibiotics?”
“I think so,” Ragatha said. “He’s supposed to be.”
Kinger made a halfhearted noise that might’ve been an agreement before nodding off again.
Gangle sighed, clutching her blanket closer. “Do we… check on him…?”
“I checked last time!” Pomni said.
“I don’t want to get sick again…” Gangle muttered.
Zooble just crossed their arms. “I’m not volunteering.”
They all looked at each other, the air thick with silent negotiation. Then Ragatha grinned weakly. “Rock, paper, scissors?”
Three rounds later, Zooble turned out to be the lucky loser.
“This is rigged...” they muttered as the others stifled grins.
Ragatha patted their back. “C'mon Zooble, he might actually listen to you.”
Zooble sighed. “Who are you kidding?” But they got up anyway.
“Tell him to at least drink water,” Ragatha called after them.
“Yeah, yeah.”
The short hallway was dim, Jax’s door wasn’t fully closed, a faint draft leaking through. Zooble knocked twice before nudging it open.
The room was a mess, which was typical for him, but the scene still managed to twist something in Zooble’s chest.
Jax was sprawled sideways across the bed, shoes still on and one strap of his backpack clinging loosely to his arm like he’d collapsed midway.
His hair was sticking in every direction, shadows pooling under his eyes.
Zooble leaned on the doorframe with their arms crossed. “You can’t sleep like that, idiot.”
No answer.
Zooble stepped inside, closing the door halfway behind them. “You’ll mess up your neck or something.”
A quiet sound came from the bed, Jax stirred weakly, rolling a little onto his side and curling up, pulling the strap of his backpack tighter.
Zooble’s voice softened at the scene. “Hey.”
Still no response, but his breathing had an uneven drag.
Zooble frowned, paused for a moment, then reached down to press the back of their hand to his forehead.
It was far too hot.
Zooble muttered under their breath, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The contact must’ve drawn something loose in him, because Jax shifted, head tilting, the strap of his bag sliding off his shoulder.
They reached over and gently tugged the backpack the rest of the way off his arm. “You’re gonna crush your notes, dummy.”
“Second time this week.” they murmured, almost to themselves. “You never learn, huh?”
Jax’s eyes cracked open and his voice was faint and hoarse.
“Zoob…?”
“Yeah.” They adjusted their position, sitting down properly on the edge of the bed. “Congratulations, you’ve officially burned yourself out again.”
Jax tried to chuckle, but it came out as a shallow breath. “Guess so…”
Zooble watched him for a moment. There was no sarcasm in his tone.
“Did you take your antibiotics?” Zooble asked quietly.
Jax gave a tiny shake of the head. “Forgot.”
“Uh-huh.” They crossed their arms loosely.
Zooble tilted their head. “You been sleeping okay?”
He huffed faintly through his nose, something between a laugh and a sigh. “Define okay.”
“More than four hours.”
Jax chuckled. “Then no.”
“And you walked home, didn’t you?”
Jax shifted a little, squinting one eye open, his voice faint. “Didn’t feel like waiting for the bus.”
“‘Didn’t feel like it’, huh.” Zooble crossed their arms. “So you’d rather roast your brain walking with half a fever still in you?”
He didn’t answer, just groaned and pressed the heel of his hand against his eye socket. “…M’head’s killing me.”
Zooble sighed and reached to pull his jacket off, Jax didn’t resist.
As soon as the jacket was off, he slumped sideways, his head landing against Zooble’s thigh.
Zooble froze. “Hey, what’re you—”
They froze, he was a ball of heat.
“Really?” Zooble muttered, but their voice had lost its edge. “You’re getting too comfortable with this.”
Jax didn’t move, pressing his forehead slightly against their leg, eyes half-closed.
“Just… dizzy,” he mumbled.
Zooble sighed, resting one hand against his shoulder. “Fine. But you owe me big time for playing nurse again.”
Zooble exhaled and leaned back slightly against the wall.
“Let me guess...” they said softly, as if talking to the air. “Project season?”
No response, obviously, but it helped to talk.
“You don’t have to kill yourself over it, y’know? None of us would care if you crashed for a week.”
Jax’s breathing hitched slightly, his hand twitched near his chest.
Zooble studied him, the faint sheen of sweat on his temple, the way he’d curled slightly toward the warmth, almost instinctively seeking it.
“Seriously,” they muttered. “You think we don’t notice? The late nights, the walking just so you don’t ‘owe the bus driver’?” They scoffed.
“You think that makes you tougher? ’Cause it doesn’t. It just makes you an idiot.”
A small sound escaped him, barely audible, a sleepy hum that might’ve been acknowledgement.
Zooble’s tone softened further, like a reluctant older sibling who’d given this lecture one too many times.
“You’ve gotta stop acting like you’re fine when you’re clearly not. I get it, you don’t like asking for help, nobody does."
For a long time, the only sound was the hum of the ceiling fan.
Jax shifted slightly, head still resting against Zooble’s leg, eyes fluttering open just enough to find their blurred outline. “You talk too much…” he murmured, voice raspy but faintly amused.
Zooble smirked. “Yeah? Someone has to make up for your lack of brain cells.”
“Mm.” A soft breath. “Thanks, though.”
The gratitude wasn’t loud, wasn’t even properly formed, but it was enough to make Zooble pause mid-sentence.
Zooble brushed a bit of his hair out of his face
with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t thank me yet, I gotta find a way to get you off me in a bit.”
As the minutes passed, the weight of him against their leg grounded something quiet inside them.
Eventually, Zooble leaned forward slightly and murmured, “You know, we’d all worry less if you just told us when you weren’t doing great.”
A small pause.
“Not that you’d actually listen.”
When Ragatha peeked through the door later she found Zooble sitting against the headboard, Jax fast asleep with his head in their lap, the fever patch from the first aid box plastered on his forehead. Zooble glanced up briefly, one finger to their lips in a silent shush.
Ragatha’s expression softened immediately.
“How is he?” She mouthed
Zooble shrugged lightly. “Out cold.”
She nodded, then retreated, leaving them in the dim hush.
Zooble looked back down at Jax. “Guess you’re getting soup whether you want it or not tomorrow.” they murmured.
Jax stirred faintly at the sound.
Zooble sighed. “You’re such a pain,”
Sometime past midnight, the hum of the ceiling fan was the only sound in the room.
Zooble hadn’t meant to stay; they’d only planned to keep an eye on Jax until his temperature evened out.
They’d drifted into a doze sitting up, head tipped against the wall, one arm hanging loosely over Jax’s shoulder.
A low sound pulled them back.
Zooble blinked, squinting through the dark.
Jax had shifted, curling tighter on the bed, one arm wrapped around his stomach.
His forehead pressed weakly against Zooble’s midsection as if seeking relief, his breath coming slow and uneven.
“Hey.” Zooble’s voice was gravel-soft from sleep. “You good?”
No answer. Just another quiet groan, his fingers flexing slightly against the blanket.
His skin felt clammy now when Zooble brushed his hair back, the fever still lingering but not blazing anymore. This was different, nausea, probably.
Zooble frowned, instinctively letting one hand rest on the back of his head, thumb tracing slow circles through damp strands. “Easy. Breathe a bit, alright?”
Jax made a low noise. His forehead stayed pressed against Zooble’s stomach, the warmth of his skin sharp against the cool fabric of their shirt.
He looked younger like that, nothing like the snide college kid with too many sarcastic comebacks.
Zooble sighed and started carding their fingers gently through his hair, combing out tangles and tracing slow lines along his scalp the way one might calm a restless animal.
It worked, gradually. His breathing steadied, shoulders losing some of their tension.
“Good.” Zooble muttered, barely audible. “Just relax, you’re fine.”
Then the door creaked softly open.
A thin bar of light from the hallway spilled in, and Ragatha’s voice came low, half-whispering.
“Hey, you guys still awake here?”
Zooble looked up and gestured silently for quiet. Ragatha stepped in holding a glass of water and a damp cloth.
Her eyes fell on the sight in front of her “Oh,” she started quietly. “Poor thing.”
“Woke up feeling nauseous,” Zooble murmured. “Guess the fever’s not done with him yet.”
“Hey, Jax.” Ragatha crouched down and whispered, her tone dropping into that soft register she only used when someone was sick or half-asleep. “You awake at all?”
A faint sound came from him, barely a hum.
Ragatha smiled. “That’s alright, just checking.”
Zooble handed her the cloth wordlessly. She pressed it gently to Jax’s neck and temple, murmuring small nothings as she worked, things like “There you go.” and “That’s it, breathe for me.”
Normally Jax would’ve groaned or thrown a snide remark at the first sign of coddling, but he just let her.
Zooble watched her for a moment, then smirked faintly. “Guess it takes a fever to get him to let you baby him.”
Ragatha smiled over her shoulder. “I’ll take what I can get.”
Jax shifted again, his voice barely there, hoarse and raw. “Ragatha?”
“I’m right here.”
“M’sorry,” he mumbled. The word came slurred, drowsy.
She brushed his bangs back, letting the cool air hit his heated face “What’re you sorry for?”
“Di’n listen… Should’a taken the bus...”
Ragatha’s smile turned softer, a quiet ache behind it. “Yeah, you should’ve…” she said, smoothing her thumb across his cheek. “But you’re home now. That’s what matters.”
He hummed faintly, almost like a sigh, then went still again, breathing slow, body loose in the half-sleep of fever and fatigue.
Zooble leaned their head back against the wall, eyes half-lidded. “You’re too good at this.” they muttered.
“I’ve had practice,” Ragatha said. “He’s just… easy to take care of when he lets you.”
“Key words being ‘when he lets you.’”
She laughed quietly. “Yeah.”
Ragatha set the cloth aside, watching the way Jax’s fingers curled loosely into the blanket. “You know,” she said softly, “for all the noise he makes when he’s healthy, he’s awfully quiet when he’s not.”
Zooble huffed a quiet laugh. “Makes my job easier.”
Eventually Ragatha stood, brushing a hand through his hair one last time. “Call me if he gets worse, okay?”
“Yeah.”
Morning crept in quietly and a pale light filtered through the blinds, creating stripes across the walls and the tangled blankets.
Jax stirred before the rest of the place even woke.
For a few seconds he just lay there, blinking blearily at the ceiling, the heaviness of sleep still pressing at his head. His throat felt raw, his stomach turned, and the dull ache behind his eyes pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Then the thoughts started.
The list of things he’d fallen behind on, assignments, attendance, projects, group work, each one crowding in like a flood he couldn’t shut off.
He remembered the missed lectures, the unread messages from classmates, the submission deadlines stamped red in his mind. The realization hit hard and fast, pulling breath from his lungs.
He pressed a hand over his eyes, the other gripping the blanket tight. The pressure in his chest rose until it pushed out in small, shaking breaths.
The door creaked open a moment later.
Ragatha peeked in, already balancing a tray, water, toast, a fever patch, her usual morning routine when someone in the house was sick. She stopped when she saw him, her expression shifting instantly.
“Hey,” she said softly, setting the tray down on the desk. “Good morning…”
He didn’t answer. Just kept his arm over his face, shoulders trembling faintly.
Ragatha moved closer, voice gentle. “Jax?”
He sniffed quietly, trying to speak and failing once before managing a rough whisper. “I can’t— I can’t miss another day. They’re gonna— I’m gonna fail everything—”
“Hey, hey,” she interrupted softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Slow down. Breathe for me, okay?”
Jax shook his head, the motion jerky. “I’m already behind. I didn’t— I didn’t turn in—”
Ragatha didn’t hesitate, she reached forward, cupping the back of his head, and pulled him gently toward her chest.
“Come here,” she murmured. “It’s alright. Come here.”
He resisted for a second out of reflex, but then the exhaustion won. His body sagged forward, forehead pressing against her shoulder.
She could feel he was still too warm to even think about his academics right now.
Ragatha wrapped both arms around him and held on, one hand moving in slow circles across his back. “Shh,” she soothed. “You’re okay, you hear me? You’re safe right now. No one’s gonna be mad about a couple missed days.”
He mumbled something against her shoulder, but it was lost between breaths.
She adjusted her hold so his head rested under her chin, her tone the same kind she would use when calming a child after a nightmare.
“You’ve been sick, hon. You’ve got nothing to apologize for. School can wait a day or two.”
Jax’s fingers curled weakly into her sleeve, knuckles pale. “It’s not— it’s not just that. I— I keep screwing it up. Every time I—”
“Hey…” she cut in quietly, pressing her palm to the back of his neck.
“You’re not screwing anything up. You’re just tired. You push yourself too far, and your body’s telling you to stop for once.”
His breath stuttered again, but it slowed gradually.
Ragatha rocked him gently without thinking, her voice a low hum.
“You’re gonna rest today.” she said in that tone that brooked no argument. “You’ll eat a little, drink something, and maybe take a shower later if you’ve got the strength for it. Everything else can wait.”
He nodded faintly, eyelids fluttering. “Okay.”
“Good.” She smiled, brushing his bangs back. “And if anyone at school gives you grief, I’ll write them a very strongly worded email.”
That coaxed a tiny laugh from him.
Ragatha grinned. “There’s that smile. You've been frowning so much, I thought it was going to get stuck.”
He exhaled slowly, still leaning against her. “You’re… really not gonna stop with the mom stuff, are you?”
“Not when you look like this, no.” Her thumb lightly rubbed his cheek.
“You’ll survive a little mothering.”
Jax sighed, tired but no longer distressed, and let his head rest properly against her shoulder. “Fine,” he mumbled. “Just for now.”
“Just for now.” she repeated softly, even though they both knew she’d keep doing it anyway.
Ragatha reached for the glass of water and held it out. “Here, small sips.”
He obeyed without complaint this time, taking a few careful swallows before handing it back.
She set it aside and tucked the blanket higher over his shoulders, brushing his hair once more before standing.
“Try to get a bit more rest, okay?”
He looked up at her, eyes red but calmer. “…Thanks.”
Ragatha smiled, leaning down to press a light kiss to his hair. “Anytime.”
The door creaked open again, just enough for Pomni to slip in quietly. The bowl of water still sat on the desk from earlier, the chill long gone but the air still thick with that faint humid warmth of sickness.
Jax was awake, or something like it. He was sat halfway upright against the headboard, knees drawn up a little, eyes barely open.
Sweat clung to his skin, the collar of his shirt damp and wrinkled. He looked like he’d been trying to stay conscious out of stubbornness alone.
Pomni hesitated a moment by the door, thrn she crossed the room and knelt beside the bed.
“Jax?”
A small sound came out of him, his head lolled slightly toward the sound of her voice.
Pomni reached out and pressed her hand to his cheek.
The heat shocked her.
“Jax, you’re burning up.” Her tone softened automatically, somewhere between worry and exasperation.
He didn’t answer, only leaned into her touch, his eyes slipping fully shut as though her hand was the only steady thing in the room. His breath came uneven.
Pomni brushed her thumb along the side of his jaw. “Zooble’s writing to your professor,” she said quietly. “You’re getting time off.”
That made his brows twitch faintly. “...Can’t,” he muttered, voice barely there. “Deadline’s... tomorrow.”
“You’re not doing anything tomorrow except resting.” Her tone was gentle but firm, the kind of tone she reserved for when she knew he’d try to argue. “You can’t keep going like this, Jax, look at you.”
He didn’t respond, just let his head tilt forward until his forehead nearly brushed her shoulder. Pomni steadied him with a hand behind his neck, sweeping his damp bangs away from his face with the other.
“Hey,” she murmured, catching a bead of sweat at his temple with her thumb. “Slow down. You’ll make yourself worse.”
For once, Jax didn’t throw a joke back. He just leaned heavier against her, eyes flickering open for a moment before slipping closed again, his expression caught between exhaustion and surrender.
Pomni stayed there a while, one hand idly pressing back his hair, the other holding his shoulder in place so he wouldn’t slump too far forward.
“Zooble’s got it covered.” she whispered, mostly to herself. “You just focus on getting better, okay?”
Jax gave a small hum of acknowledgment, almost like he wanted to argue but didn’t have the energy.
Pomni smoothed his hair one last time, fingers tracing through the damp strands until they stopped sticking to his forehead. “There, that’s better.”
For a moment, she stayed still, just watching him breathe, each inhale a little steadier than the last.
Then she reached over for the towel, wrung it out in the bowl, and gently wiped along his temple and neck.
Jax didn’t move, didn’t resist. He only leaned closer again, a quiet sigh slipping past his lips.
Pomni smiled faintly, tucking the towel away and letting her hand linger against his hair.
“Sleep,” she murmured. “We’ve got you.”
Pomni carefully lowered him back onto the bed, her hands steady beneath his shoulders. Jax went down without resistance, the weight of exhaustion pulling him like gravity.
She reached for the thermometer on the nightstand and slipped it gently between his lips.
“Hold still, yeah?” she murmured, brushing a stray lock away. He gave a faint nod, eyes half-lidded, breathing shallow through his nose.
His hand found hers without looking, his fingers wrapping weakly around her own, thumb brushing over her knuckle.
Pomni looked up as the door cracked open again and this time, Gangle stepped in first, balancing a tray with a bowl of soup that steamed faintly despite being carried all the way from the kitchen.
Ragatha followed close behind, holding a folded towel and wearing that look she got whenever she went into caretaker mode.
“He’s still out?” Ragatha whispered.
“Mostly…” Pomni murmured, glancing down. Jax had gone completely slack, cheek pressed into their leg, Pomni’s hand still loosely held in his own. His breathing had steadied some, but he was clearly spent.
Ragatha set the towel on the bedside table, eyes softening at the sight. She adjusted the tray in Gangle’s hands and nodded toward the nightstand. “Careful, set it there.”
The scent of broth filled the room, something simple and comforting, vegetable, mild enough for a fever.
“Hey, Jax.” Ragatha whispered, tone low and even, the way one would wake a sick kid who needed just enough awareness to eat.
“C’mon, wake up a second.”
His eyes fluttered, heavy and unfocused.
“Yeah, that’s it.” Ragatha coaxed, thumb brushing the side of his face. “You need to eat a little, alright? Just a few spoonfuls.”
Pomni smiled softly from where she stood. “He can barely keep his eyes open…” she said, but her tone held no frustration, only that gentle amusement of someone used to this exact scene before.
Jax blinked up blearily, squinting against the low light. “...Soup?” His voice cracked on the word.
“Yeah… Soup...” Gangle, who nervously offered the bowl. “You’ve… gotta eat something if you want that fever to break.”
Ragatha stepped in, kneeling beside the bed and holding the bowl steady. “I’ll help.” she said softly. “Small sips, okay, sweetheart?”
Usually that kind of nickname would’ve earned her an eye roll or a sarcastic remark, but tonight Jax was too tired to fight it.
Ragatha guided the spoon toward him, their other hand steadying his shoulder. “Open up,” they said.
He did, sluggishly. The first spoonful went down slowly, the second followed after a pause. Ragatha blew gently on the next one to cool it, her tone almost sing-song as she said, “See? Not so bad, right?”
Jax managed a faint hum of agreement, eyelids drooping again. “...Tastes like… ocean”
Gangle tilted their head. “Is that… good?”
Ragatha chuckled. “That’s good.”
They got through maybe half the bowl before Zooble noticed Jax’s head tilting forward again, spoon slipping from his loose grip.
quietly, easing him back down. “You did fine.”
Ragatha took the bowl from Gangle and set it aside. “Good job, hon.” she said softly, dabbing his face with the towel. “You’ll feel better soon.”
Jax gave a sleepy hum, already sinking back into the pillow.
“You’d think we were running a daycare.” she whispered fondly.
Pomni smirked faintly. “Sometimes it feels like it.”
From the bed came a faint, muffled murmur, Jax’s voice, barely audible, half-asleep. “...’m not a kid.”
They all froze for half a second before Ragatha smiled again and brushed his hair back. “Sure you’re not, sweetheart.” she whispered.
He didn’t answer, already gone again, breathing slow and even.
The three had left, switching with Zooble on Jax duty for the next few hours. Jax’s sleep didn’t stay quiet for long.
Soft coughs that barely scraped out at first, then deepened until his chest shuddered with the effort.
Zooble’s eyes flicked open from where they’d been half-dozing against the headboard.
They sighed quietly, already recognizing the rhythm of it.
“...Ah, damn it,” they muttered under their breath. “Don’t tell me this is turning into another flare-up.”
They rubbed a hand over their face, then leaned forward to check on Jax.
His skin was clammy again, mouth parting slightly between coughs, each one tighter than the last. The sound made Zooble’s stomach knot.
“Easy, easy.” they said, voice low and steady. “It’s okay, breathe slow.”
Jax tried, but it came out shallow. His bangs stuck to his forehead, so Zooble gently pushed them back again, fingers brushing his skin.
It left his face completely open, his expression was softer than he’d ever allow if awake and healthy. Silly-looking even, with his hair all skewed upward like that. The sight pulled something small and fond out of Zooble despite the worry.
Jax shifted, managing a rasp “...Inhaler.”
Zooble froze for a beat, then exhaled, tension loosening from their shoulders. “Good,” they said softly, already getting up. “Good. You’re asking for it this time.”
They crouched beside his cluttered bag by the foot of the bed, rummaging through notebooks, a half-empty water bottle, tangled earbuds, and crumpled papers until finally the familiar blue plastic caught their eye. “Got it.”
They returned to the bedside, shaking the inhaler lightly before pressing it into Jax’s hand.
His fingers trembled a little, so Zooble steadied it for him, guiding it up.
“Alright, deep breath, on three. One, two…”
Jax inhaled sharply as Zooble pressed the canister. The hiss of the medicine filled the silence, followed by the faint wheeze of his lungs struggling to expand. He exhaled slowly, then took another puff on Zooble’s cue.
After a moment, the coughs tapered into smaller ones, his chest easing a fraction.
Zooble set the inhaler aside, keeping their hand on his shoulder until the tremors in his breathing calmed.
“Better?” they asked quietly.
Jax nodded faintly, eyelids drooping again. His voice was hoarse. “Yeah… a bit.”
“Good. Don’t scare me like that again.”
Zooble leaned back against the wall, one hand idly combing through Jax’s now-mussed bangs, he really did look ridiculous, but the small furrow of his brow and the pink flush still clinging to his face, gave it something undeniably endearing.
“Hey,” Zooble said after a pause, fishing their phone from their pocket. “I wrote that email for your professor. Want to see it before I send it?”
They held the screen out. The message was short and direct explaining that Jax was ill, that he’d be unable to attend or submit work on time, requesting an extension.
Normally, Jax would argue. He’d roll his eyes, insisting he could handle it.
Tonight, he just blinked at the screen for a few seconds skimming the text, then mumbled, “...Yeah. Send it.”
Zooble stared at him, almost surprised into silence. “…No protest? No ‘I’m fine’?”
He gave a faint shrug, already sinking sideways again. “Nah… Too tired…” he muttered, voice trailing.
“Good.” Zooble said under their breath, a rare smile pulling at the corner of their mouth. “Maybe you really are learning.”
Jax didn’t reply. He just shifted closer until his head rested on Zooble’s lap again, arms loosely tucked near his chest. His breathing evened out, slow and still raspy, but steady now.
Zooble looked down at him, brushing their fingers through his hair again, softer this time.
Zooble hit “send” on the email, set the phone aside, and leaned back. The weight of Jax’s head against their leg felt heavier now, comfortably so.
The night had grown still again, the kind of quiet that only came after hours of fevered noise.
Kinger and Ragatha appeared in the doorway, both speaking in low voices before quieting when they saw Zooble sitting at the edge of the bed, Jax’s head still resting on their lap.
“Hey,” Kinger said softly. “Didn’t mean to intrude. We just thought you might want company.”
Zooble looked up, tired but appreciative. “Nah it’s fine. Kinda helps having people around.”
Ragatha eased into a chair by the desk, while Kinger took his usual spot standing awkwardly near the foot of the bed. The room’s single lamp cast a muted amber glow that softened everyone’s features.
“How’s he doing?” Ragatha asked, eyes falling on Jax’s flushed face.
“Fever’s still up.” Zooble murmured. “But his breathing’s better. He used his inhaler earlier.”
Kinger nodded, his expression easing into something thoughtful. “That’s good, at least. Poor kid looks wrung out.”
Zooble leaned back, stretching a little before speaking again. “I got an email back from his professor, he said there’s been a small cold going around the campus, nothing serious and most of them just powered through it. He was understanding about Jax though, gave him a few extensions.”
Ragatha smiled faintly. “That’s kind of him.”
Kinger rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m not surprised Jax caught it worse. His immune system probably never gets a break with the way he runs himself down. Stress’ll eat through your resistance faster than any virus.”
“Yeah,” Zooble muttered, eyes flicking back to the boy on their lap.
As if on cue, Jax stirred, his head shifting, brow knitting faintly. A low sound slipped from him, something like a whimper but caught halfway in his throat. His hand twitched, gripping weakly at the blanket.
Zooble frowned and laid a hand against his shoulder. “Hey, hey… easy there.”
It didn’t help much.
Ragatha stood immediately and came closer. “Here, let me.” she whispered. Zooble nodded and gently passed him over, easing Jax into her arms.
Ragatha sat back with him settled against her chest, his head tucked beneath her chin. “Shh…” she cooed quietly, stroking his hair. “You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re home. You don’t have to worry about anything right now.”
He didn’t wake fully, but his body eased little by little under her touch. The tiny tremors in his shoulders slowed, and the tension left his brow.
Ragatha kept whispering, soft, mindless things meant only to fill the air in a soothing rhythm.
“That’s it, just breathe. You did your best, Jax. You always do. You can rest now, yeah?”
The others watched in quiet understanding. Zooble leaned forward on their elbows, and Kinger crossed his arms loosely, gaze gentling.
After a few minutes, when his breathing steadied again, Jax gave a tired groan and shifted restlessly, his body half-protesting the constant lying down.
Ragatha caught it quickly, smiling a little. “Alright, alright,” she murmured. “You’re restless, huh?” She carefully lifted him, tucking one arm under his knees and another around his back, pulling him close so his head rested against her chest. “There. You can sleep sitting up like this if you want.”
Jax’s hands found the fabric of her shirt, curling weakly into it. He sighed against her, head pressed under her chin as he finally stilled again.
Kinger smiled and cheered under his breath. “You have the magic touch, Ragatha!”
Ragatha smiled, brushing her thumb over Jax’s temple. “He’s just tired..." she said softly.
Minutes passed in that calm, no one felt the need to break it.
Then Jax shifted again, this time more aware. His breathing hitched, eyes blinking open halfway before glassing over, wet and unfocused.
Kinger watched quietly from where he stood, his usual energy gone softened.
When Jax finally went still again, head tucked beneath Ragatha’s chin, everyone knew he’d sleep for real this time.
On Ragatha’s chest, Jax stirred slightly, fingers tightening against her sleeve. His lashes fluttered before his eyes cracked open halfway. Zooble noticed instantly, moving the lamp’s light a little farther so it wouldn’t glare at him.
“Hey,” Ragatha whispered, her voice carrying that syrupy gentleness she saved for moments like this. “You awake?”
Jax gave a faint hum, barely a sound. His head felt heavy, foggy, his nose stuffy and his body aching as though gravity had gotten mean overnight. When he tried to move, Ragatha just tightened her hold, rubbing a slow circle on his back.
He didn’t argue. He couldn’t, really. The air around him felt too soft, too warm. He blinked drowsily, then croaked out, “Mmh… I heard you talking.”
Zooble leaned in. “You did, huh? Just boring stuff. Your professor’s giving you some time off. You don’t need to worry about assignments for now.”
Jax blinked again, dazed but processing.
Ragatha brushed his hair back, still a bit damp from fever sweat. “You’ve gotta start taking better care of yourself.” she said in that motherly lilt. “Or we’ll do it for you.”
That got the faintest smile out of him. “...You already do.” he mumbled, voice rough.
Ragatha only smiled, pressing the back of her hand to Jax’s forehead again. “Still warm...” she murmured. “Zooble, can you get the cool cloth again?”
Zooble stood, grabbing the towel and bowl from earlier. The water had gone lukewarm, but it’d do. They wrung out the cloth and handed it over, watching as Ragatha dabbed it gently along Jax’s temple and neck.
Jax’s eyelids fluttered closed at the touch, his breathing deepening. The vulnerability in him was rare, normally, he fought any sort of coddling with sarcasm sharp enough to cut through tension. But now, in his half-awake, half-delirious state, he clung to it like a lifeline.
He mumbled something incoherent against Ragatha’s shirt, his voice muffled and small.
“What’s that?” Ragatha asked softly, tilting her head.
“…M’sorry,” came the faint whisper.
Her brows knit. “Sorry? For what, honey?”
“For… being like this,” he muttered, his words barely there.
Zooble’s chest tightened at that. They exchanged a glance with Ragatha, who just smiled gently and shook her head.
“You don’t need to apologize..." Ragatha said quietly.
Kinger took a seat on the edge of the bed, folding his legs with a quiet rustle of fabric. “If anything, this is the calmest the apartment has been in weeks." he joked lightly.
That earned a sleepy, airy chuckle from Jax, his voice fading into a hoarse sigh.
Ragatha smoothed his bangs again, her hand resting briefly on his cheek. “There’s that laugh we love.” she murmured.
Her gaze softened when Jax shifted again, eyes fluttering open for a brief moment.
“Just five more minutes,” he mumbled.
Ragatha chuckled, not bothering to correct him. “Five minutes."