Work Text:
Today was the universe's cruelest joke to date. Actually, it was worse than a joke; it was a curse.
Technically speaking, it started during the night. That was when this awful migraine began to plague Angela. A tight, pinching pain that clustered in the center of her forehead, keeping her awake until the crack of dawn.
Sunlight spilled in through the windows, nearly blinding her as she lay in bed. A groan, loud and groggy, filled the air while an overbearing weariness seeped further down in her muscles. Whether she liked it or not, it was time to start a new day.
For a moment, she just stared at the ceiling, caught in between two possible decisions. An easy choice—maybe even the responsible choice—would have been to rest instead of going to work.
But Angela didn't like the easy choice. She never did, and she never would. She was a hard worker. No one would disagree with that statement. Deep down, she knew that her workload was excessive and that her body had its limits, but something in her—whether it was determination or pure stubbornness—just couldn't let that happen.
So, no, she won't stay home. A silly thing like this shouldn't stop her.
With that thought echoing in her head, she ripped the blankets off of her only to immediately stop in her tracks. Something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She snapped her head around, blinking twice, almost certain that she was misreading her bedside clock. Snatching it off the nightstand, she held it close to her face, her jaw dropping open in shock.
With the realization that she was late for work, she flew off of her bed and rushed into her bathroom. She gathered together her towels and clothes for the day, hoping for the gentle stream of warm water that would refreshen her for the day. But instead, a gush of ice-cold water hit her skin. The temperature refused to change no matter how many times she twisted the faucets, so she had no other choice but to endure a dreadful bath.
Still freezing cold from her shower, she ran into the kitchen, shoving two slices of bread in her toaster before continuing her rush to get ready for work. At some point during the chaos, she tripped over a rug, rolling her ankle as she fell forward. What a way to start the day.
As she struggled to put her shoes on, she heard the pop of a toaster and mindlessly grabbed a slice of her breakfast.
"Ow!" With a yelped, she dropped it on the floor.
Looking down, she saw that the bread was smoking and burned black. Ugh, whatever. It's not like breakfast is that important. She'll just skip it for today.
She ran out the front door, fumbling with her keys as she entered her car. With a hard plop, she sat down in a driver's seat, halting for a moment to take a deep breath. A strange, bubbling nausea crept up on her, probably because of the migraine. She shook her head, trying her best to ignore it. It should go away, she told herself.
Halfway into her drive on the highway, something sounded... off. Initially, the noise wasn't bad; in fact, it was subtle. It was just the tires rolling over rough patches of the road, she assumed. Nothing to worry about.
That was until the sputtering started.
"What the..."
Within seconds, the whole car shook hard like a rollercoaster ride. A string of swears bounced in the air as Angela pulled the car over. With a stumble, she hopped out of the car to investigate the damage, a burning smell already tickling her nostrils.
Running to the front of the car, she cried out, "No, no, no!" The hood was hot to the touch, and faint smoke leaked out from the sides.
Hot panic dripped down into her stomach as she pulled out her phone, struggling to dial for a tow truck and an Uber. Of course, this just had to happen today, of all days.
Arriving at work—late, obviously—she was immediately rushed into the TNTL stage, where the crew had finished rearranging the set for the first shoot of the day.
She did her best to appear normal on camera. Key word here was "best."
The problem was with everything around her. Nothing in the building had changed, but today it felt like she entered a trap purposefully designed to torture her specifically. The harsh, bright stage lights were like the world's sharpest needles, piercing into her vision until her entire head was left throbbing. The yelling from everyone that would usually have her laughing on a regular day made her tense up with overstimulation.
At one point, the cast had to do another "Challenge Pit" video for the channel. This time, the theme was "children's games gone competitive," so they were running around all over the set. All this movement churned her nausea worse and worse, and the pain in her ankle worsened.
But it was fine... She was fine...
Like the professional she was, she carried on with today's schedule, following the rest of the cast onto the Games stage for the next shoot.
"Hey, Angela, you feel like doing the intro for this one?" Spencer asked from his seat.
"Of course. Yeah," Angela mindlessly answered. She readjusted in her spot on the couch to face the camera. She could do this; it was just a simple intro.
"Hi. Hey. Guys. Um, today, er, uh... Welcome back to—" Angela's breath hitched when an unexpected woozy sensation shuttered through her. She tried to play it off, chuckling nervously. "Sorry, I messed that up. Let—let me try that again from the top." It wasn't until she cleared her throat that she became aware of how uncomfortably dry it was. "Hey guys...! H—hey. Today... we're, we, uh... um..."
In between blinks, everything in her view blurred and split in two due to double vision.
"We..."
Angela breathed in deeply, still swimming in the nausea that had followed her since this morning. She patted her knees as she looked up at the ceiling, trying with all her might to keep herself upright. With puffed cheeks, he exhaled a sigh and continued, "Dude, I'm so sorry. W—what was the name of this game, again?"
Out of this whole day, the most horrendous thing that Angela experienced was the deafening silence in this room right now. All eyes were on her, staring at her like she had three heads on her shoulder.
"Hey. Don't look at me like that. I'm—" Angela waved her hands frantically. Pity was the last thing she wanted right now.
"Ang, you okay? You look kinda—"
She was quick to interrupt Spencer, "No, I'm good. I'm good. I just... I'm so sorry." An unsteady hand ran through her hair as she squeezed her eyes tight shut. Her skin itched from the goosebumps that spread all over her. "I need five. Just gimme five. I—I'll be right back." Before another word could be spoken, she rushed off stage, her cheeks hot from embarrassment.
As the doors to the stage closed behind her, she turned the corner and pressed herself against the wall, as if that would somehow stop the room from spinning.
As another wave of nausea flowed through her, she could feel tears wet the skin behind her eyes.
She hated this. She hated making a scene...
...But her head felt like it was about to explode. Her foot was on fire. And she felt like she was seconds away from vomiting.
She just couldn't take it anymore.
She covered her face, sliding down the wall until she curled up into a ball, her breath hissing through clenched teeth.
"...Angela?"
Angela nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard that. Her head snapped in the direction of the voice and was met with Amanda's face, now full of worry and sadness. The sight made Angela's stomach twist into a tighter knot. She knew why she was concerned, and for that she almost let out another apology for scaring a close friend.
With a gasp, Amanda stepped closer and crouched down next to Angela. Her brows pinched together, and her eyes grew wide as she studied Angela up and down. Slowly, she raised her hand up and gestured towards Angela's arm. Understanding what she was asking for, Angela nodded, letting Amanda lay her hand on her.
"Hey," Amanda said, her voice soft, thumbing the skin of Angela's arm. Her free hand reached out to brush the stray strands of hair out of Angela's face, looking deep into the shorter girl's wet eyes. Quietly, with a tender voice, she said, "Do you need a hug?"
Something about that broke Angela. All at once, the tears that had been welling up in her eyes flowed endlessly down her face. She nodded her head desperately and lurched forward, embracing Amanda in a tight hug.
"It's okay. It's okay." Amanda wrapped her arms around Angela, rubbing circles into her back in a soothing pattern. "Just let it all out. There you go."
They stayed in this position for a few minutes until Angela felt like she could breathe normally again. Eventually, Angela removed herself from Amanda, her tears having slowed down significantly.
Amanda kept a hand on Angela's shoulder, patting and rubbing it. These gentle touches gave something for Angela to focus on, distracting her from her aches. "Can you tell me what happened back there?" she asked.
"I'm..." Angela shook her head as she struggled to wrangle together a complete sentence. She clutched two fistfuls of hair and leaned her head back. "It's this migraine... I feel like I'm gonna pass out..."
"Oh my god." Amanda glanced down as she thought to herself. "If you want, I can drive you back home. I was working half a day today, anyway."
Angela immediately wiped away her tears when she heard that statement. "You don't have to do that, you know," she insisted in a sniffle, not wanting to be a burden.
Amanda tilted her head, almost disappointed. "...Angela," she said sternly. "Please, don't do this." With a sigh, she stood up straight, stretching out a hand towards Angela. "C'mon. Let's take you home." She flashed a smile, small and sympathetic.
Angela almost didn't take her hand. A part of her wanted to act strong and push through this sickness. It was what she did best. But that sweet expression on Amanda's face made it clear that she didn't need to be strong. For once, she could let her guard down. So, Angela reached out, grabbing Amanda's hand and following her to her car. They made it to Angela's apartment quickly, where Angela held onto Amanda while they walked towards the front door.
"Okay, listen," Amanda began when the two women entered the apartment. "You're gonna stay here by yourself—just for a little bit—while I go to the store." She kept an arm firm around Angela, guiding her towards the couch. "Do you need anything? Some Tylenol? Something to snack on?"
"Maybe Tylenol," Angela muttered.
"Got it." Amanda carefully lowered the shorter woman down, where she fell flat on her back against the cushions. Once Angela curled up and closed her eyes, Amanda headed towards the door, saying, "I'll be right back, okay?"
Angela could only hum in response before finally succumbing to the exhaustion that she had been carrying all day.
About an hour or so passed before her migraine woke her up again. Opening her eyes, she noticed Amanda sitting on the other far end of the couch, chin resting on her hand while she scrolled through her phone.
Angela pushed herself into a sitting position and yawned. "Amanda?"
Amanda snapped her attention towards Angela, and her face softened immediately. "Good morning, sleepy," she smiled, sliding closer to the shorter woman. "You feeling better?"
"Eh. Kind of." Angela rubbed her temples and groaned. "I mean, I didn't sleep at all last night, so I really needed that nap."
"Yeah, I bet. Here." Amanda patted Angela's back before reaching towards the coffee table in front of the couch. She rummaged through the plastic bag that sat on the table and pulled out a bottle of Tylenol. Handing it towards Angela, she pointed towards the other items on the table: a plastic cup and a small package of instant ramen. "I bought a couple of other stuff, too. Some tea for your migraine and some noodles in case you got hungry. I hope that's alright with you."
Angela almost wanted to cry again, letting out a small but quick, "Oh my god, you're so sweet." Leaning forward, she took the bottle first, taking out two pills and gulping them down with a big sip of her tea. "Oh, this tastes so good." Angela leaned against Amanda, sighing, "Thank you, thank you so much for this. I literally cannot thank you enough."
For a moment, Amanda simply remained quiet, more focused on watching the shorter woman closely. Eventually, she admitted to the obvious, "You had me really worried back there."
Angela bit her lips and peered down at the ground. "I'm sorry about that."
"No," Amanda said, stern yet still gentle. "You don't need to apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. It's just..." Amanda's voice trailed off, like she was struggling to get something off her chest. She put a hand over Angela's and squeezed it lightly. With a sigh, she continued, "You're allowed to take breaks. You know that, right?"
"...I know," Angela said in a pout.
"Then, why don't you?"
Angela shrugged. "I mean, this is just how I've always been. I don't like giving up on things. Especially not now. Like, I love my job, and I love all the opportunities I get because of it. I don't wanna, like, give up on them, I guess?" She rubbed the back of her neck, chuckling nervously at how silly she must sound, "I don't know. Maybe that's something for my therapist to figure out."
"Oh, man." Amanda rested her head on her fist and shook her head, a playful smile on her face. "What am I going to do with you?" She wrapped an arm around Angela, bringing them closer together if humanly possible.
Angela couldn't help but feel a little shy under Amanda's touch. "You know," she said in between sips, "you don't have to stay. I—I'll be okay, I promise."
"Oh, no," Amanda waved her finger in disapproval, yet still retained her smile. "I am not letting you kick me out, honey. Not after what I saw earlier. I'm staying here for as long as I need to."
Even though Angela rolled her eyes and chuckled at the comment, a warm, fuzzy feeling sprouted in her chest. "Promise?" She asked, knowing well enough what the answer would be.
"Promise." Amanda repeated, her big, brown eyes filled with enough love to heal a nation.
Angela eased into the embrace, closing her eyes to fully feel the moment. She couldn't be more grateful to have Amanda in her life.