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Timothy rushes into your bedroom glancing worriedly at his watch. "You're late! You've overslept! If we hurry we can get you back on schedule. You were supposed to leave for work 10 minutes ago." There is nothing worse for Timothy than going off schedule. It causes him anxiety from the uncertainty that a lack of a schedule brings. Timothy huffs and puffs with annoyance as he hovers over the lump under your covers.
You sleepily mumble and attempt to shut your eyes even tighter. You have no clue what time it is but you feel like you can sleep for at least 10 more hours. A stern voice above you makes your head start to hurt. You pull the covers over your head and turn away from whoever is in your room.
A fast hand quickly yanks the covers away from your face. You are blinded from the sun streaming in through the open window.
"I insist, you must get up immediately! If you don't, your schedule will be thrown off even more." Timothy declares. Once he gets a good look at you, he freezes and stops his comments. "Oh my. You look absolutely horrible! Have you not been following the sleep schedule I made for you?"
You squint up at Timothy, barely coherent enough to properly answer him. Before you manage to think of a response, a loud wet sneeze startles Timothy making him jump back with his tail poofed up.
"Sorry," you mumble with tears prickling at your eyes and snot dripping down your nose.
"Oh heavens!" He exclaims as he calms himself down. His tail slowly depoofs back to its normal size. Timothy pulls out a monogrammed handkerchief with his initials on it and hands it to you. You quickly take the handkerchief, wiping your face before you can embarrass yourself again.
"I feel like shit," you mumble, pulling the covers back over your face.
"This will not do! We must attempt to get you back on schedule." Timothy storms out of the room without another word. You peek out from under the covers, trying to figure out what just happened. You want to be annoyed that Timothy cares about his schedule this much, even when you're sick, but you're too exhausted to care.
Darkness surrounds you as you're lulled back into a light sleep. You can hear random sounds coming from downstairs, but it's not enough to keep you conscious.
After what feels like years but actually was just a few short minutes, Timothy rushes back into the room. He is carrying a thermometer, a bunch of different medications, a box of tissues, and a water bottle. You don't let it show on your face, but seeing how much Timothy cares about you warms your heart. Even though he's a bit awkward and has a weird way of showing it, Timothy just wants the best for you.
"Open your mouth," Timothy instructs. You open your mouth without question. He slides the cold thermometer under your tongue. "Hmmm," he huffs, "this is no good. 102 degree fever." Timothy places the thermometer on the nightstand and hands you two pills. One is a fever reducer, and the other is a decongestant. As soon as you swallow the pills, Timothy says, "In order to get you back on schedule, I need to help you get well as soon as possible." He doesn't wait for a response before hurrying back downstairs.
It's hard to keep yourself awake when you feel like such shit. You let yourself drift back into a light sleep until Timothy returns. You don't know where he went, but you trust that he will take care of you.
Timothy barges into the kitchen at full speed. All of the other objects in the kitchen look up when they hear his footsteps loudly approaching.
"Attention, everyone!" Timothy loudly announces. All the objects in the kitchen sigh and roll their eyes as soon as Timothy speaks. Despite the power Timothy thinks he has, the other objects don't respect him very much. He suspects that it is his more feline counterpart Timmy's fault rather than his own. "Listen up. We are on a tight schedule here, and I need everyone to cooperate with me. The owner of the house has come down with some illness and needs our help to get well as quickly as possible." When Timothy originally barged in, the other objects had no intentions of actually listening to him. But since it is for their favorite person, well techinally the only person anyone knows, everyone is willing to help.
"They require a hardy breakfast to recover. Kopi, make them a cup of chamomile honey and a dash of milk." Timothy commands.
"I'm on it." Kopi says.
Timothy turns towards the other side of the kitchen before continuing. "Everyone else prepare them breakfast." Timothy wants to give a more description command, but he knows better at this point. Stefan has screamed at him many times for trying the boss him around in his own kitchen. When it comes to cooking, Stefan must always have the final say. Timothy impatiently stands in the middle of the kitchen, tapping on his watch as the objects get to work.
Freddy and Mitchell Linn grab fresh ingredients from the fridge once Stefan chooses what to make. Eggs, bacon, cheddar cheese, and an English muffin are set out on the counter next to the oven. With a small click the gas burner is ignited and Stefan starts to cook. Heavenly smells of cooking eggs and bacon fill the kitchen.
As Stefan works on cooking breakfast, Daisuke assembles a serving tray without even having to be asked. He neatly lines up a plate next to a folded cloth napkin with utensils on it. Right as Stefan turns off the stove, Kopi places a steaming mug of tea on the tray. Stefan assembles the egg and cheese sandwich with the sizzling bacon next to it.
Timothy pleasantly smiles when Daisuke hands him the finished breakfast. He gives them a small satisfied smile as a thank you before carefully carrying the tray back upstairs.
The sight of Timothy in his little suit carrying a tray of food is the cutest thing your sleepy brain has ever seen. "Awwwww, are you my little kitty butler?" You ask.
Timothy gives you a light growl as he begins to blush. "I am not-" he begins to say, but when he realizes you seem a bit delirious, he decides not to say anything.
"Abel, set up a small table for them to balance the tray on." He commands. Abel looks grumpy at the command, but wants to be helpful so he doesn't try to argue.
"Say please." You say with a pout. You've been working with Timothy on his social skills. It's been a work in progress. He cares very little for anything that is not his schedule or you.
"Set up the table, please." Timothy begrudgingly says.
Abel happily sets the small lap table on the bed. "See how much easier it is to get stuff done when you are polite about it," Abel says. Timothy seems a bit embarrassed as Abel leaves the room, but he chooses to stay silent while staring at his shoes.
The bed dips down a bit as Timothy takes a seat next to you. He quietly sips at his own tea as you dig into the food. An indecent moan escapes your mouth as you get a taste of the delicious egg sandwich. The hot tea and the warm food feel amazing on your sore throat. Before long, all that remains on the plate are crumbs and a drop of tea in your mug. You go to sleepily lean your head against Timothy's shoulder, but before you can move he hops off the bed into the bathroom. A small sigh escapes your lips. You want nothing more than to cuddle him and sleep.
"Bathsheba!" His stern voice calls out from the bathroom. "Go run a hot bubble bath."
She glares at Timothy, not moving an inch. "I don't take orders from rude men." She huffs and crosses her arms over her silky bathrobe."
"It is for the owner of the houses' sake, you must obey. We are on a time crunch here." Timothy says.
"Timothy!" Your voice cracks as you call over to him in the bathroom. "We just spoke about this, be nice."
Timothy sighs, shaking his head and mumbling something incoherently under his breath. "Bathsheba, please run them a bath. Your help would be greatly appreciated."
"Better." Bathsheba says as she sets up the bath, "Someone ought to put a leash on you if you don't learn to behave yourself soon."
Tyrell brings a warmed towel to the bathroom and sets it next to the bath. Timothy doesn't acknowledge him as he walks out of the bathroom with his tail between his legs. He pushes the blankets aside and helps shuffle you to the bath.
You reach out to scratch behind his ears. He wouldn't admit it in front of so many other objects, but he loves being touched there. "You're so good to me." You murmur as he helps you out of your pajamas and into the hot water. All your tense muscles relax and melt as soon as you are submerged in the hot lavender-scented water. Timothy sets a timer for 20 minutes to let you relax in the water. Your head sleepily tilts back onto the edge of the tub as you get comfy. Timothy stays close, making sure your head never slips under the water.
The sound of the timer going off snaps you out of rest. You squeeze your eyes shut, not ready to get out yet. Surprisingly instead of having you get out of the bath, Timothy tells you to carefully dip your hair in the water. His fingers feel amazing as he works the shampoo into your hair. You let out a satisfied hum as his nails gently scratch against your scalp. The calmness and serenity you feel nearly makes you forget that you are sick. Once he finishes washing your hair, he helps you out of the tub and wraps you in a warm towel.
"Clarence, go get them clean pajamas," Timothy yells into the bathroom. After a few awkward seconds, he adds, "Please." You are half asleep, wrapped in the cozy towel in Timmy's arms, but you hear mumbles of a conversation between Timothy and Clarence. The only thing that you can make out is Clarence's failed flirting attempt. His flirting only tends to work with Timmy, never Timothy.
Betty and Mateo shift out the bedsheets and blankets while Timothy helps you step into the pajamas. A night of rapidly switching between sweating and cold chills has left your bedsheets quite gross. Every time you slightly move your head, you get dizzy and have to stop for a few seconds. If Timothy wasn't holding you upright, you would have collapsed from lightheadedness by now.
You lean heavily against Timothy's as he gently guides you back to bed. A loud content sigh leaves your mouth as you crash back down on your comfy mattress. You never want to leave bed again. Fogginess fills your brain as the fatigue takes over. One second you are a bit cold then you blink and the next second Timothy has draped the duvet over you.
"Do you need anything before you rest?" Timothy asks.
"I want to cuddle." You whine out. "It'll make me feel better."
Timothy frowns and doesn't make any move to come cuddle with you. "That isn't a part of the schedule." Your lip quivers and tears threaten to fall. You give Timothy your cutest most pathetic little whines and whimpers until he feels bad for you. A bit apprehensively, Timothy takes a seat next to you.
A squeak surprise is startled out of Timothy when you quickly grab him and pull him to your chest. He lets you cuddle him, but he seems very on edge and uncomfortable. After a few minutes, Timmy takes over to front. It's for the best, Timmy is much better at cuddling with his master.
Timmy gives you a little frown, "Master is sick?" He asks in the cutest concerned voice. Feeling too tired for words you give him a small nod before pulling him even closer.
"Don't worry, master. Timmy will make you feel better. Cuddles will heal you." Timmy curls up next you under the blankets, getting comfy clinging to your side. Soothing purrs radiate through. The soft vibrations and Timmy's cuddly presence makes you feel much better. As you fall asleep, Timmy nuzzles against you being a good cuddly little kitty. You fall asleep thinking about how amazing your boyfriend is. Both Timothy and Timmy love you dearly and love to care for you.