Chapter Text
Harlequin's bedroom was silent other than the noise from the ventilation system. Jester gently rocked Harlequin as he curled into Jester, coughing, his throat swollen. Jester’s eyes closed for a second as he held Harlequin tighter.
“… my sweet sick baby…” Jester soothed, opening his eyes as he gently kissed Harlequin’s damp curls. Harlequin only coughed in response, looking up at his Mommy with a downright pathetic expression. Jester looked down at him with all the care in the world. “Mommy‘s here,” Jester spoke softly, bouncing Harlequin in his arms.
Harlequin whined, curling closer. He felt downright miserable, not that he could even voice it with how he lost his voice days prior. Harlequin nestled into Jester’s shoulder, feeling Jester’s warm exhale of breath on his hairline.
“Let’s at least get something in you, baby doll,” Jester grabbed the small cup of rice water he had brought up with him when he came to check on his baby after he ate his own dinner. Jester guided the clay cup to Harlequin’s mouth, making sure to slowly pour little amounts of it into his mouth as the boy drank. Once Harlequin fully swallowed his first sip, Jester pulled the cup back a bit.
“Good boy,” Jester rocked Harlequin in his arms in a praising way before continuing to have Harlequin drink more of the warm rice water.
“Mommy would be so proud if his baby could drink at least half of the cup, okay?” Jester set the expectation in the sweetest way he could as he lovingly continued to feed his baby. Jester didn‘t say it directly, but his baby was so weak. So frail and dependent on his Mommy. As Harlequin was focused on drinking his rice water, Jester smiled.
Such a stupid little boy. Harlequin, the one called poison in the play, couldn‘t tell he was being poisoned. How ironic. His stupid, sweet baby. How endearing. His loveliest little baby always needing him. And him only. After losing most of his voice, he stopped asking for the others too, which was nice for Jester. He knew Harlequin still thought of them. It was quite an annoying thought, that his baby was having thoughts of other caregivers. How dare his little one.
He couldn‘t be mad though, not truly. The sick due tend to want comfort from predictable people, and Harle did grow up around the others. It was Jester's fault really for getting his two littlest ones involved with the circus. He brought the two here after all. But back then he didn‘t know what would happen with his first son, or how his little Harlequin would have nightmares of his brother‘s passing.
Harlequin weakly cooed, getting Jester‘s attention. “Awh, still hungry, little one?” Jester tilted his head, noticing the cup had emptied. “Let me lay you down, sweetie, I’ll go grab my baby more,” Jester gently laid Harlequin down on his bed, tucking him in, making sure he was all nice and cozy before leaving with the cup.
Harlequin weakly rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow, embarrassed. How sick had he become where he couldn‘t even leave bed by himself? That he couldn’t swallow anything but rice water with how sick he was? Harlequin hated it. Hated how weak he felt, how weak he knew he was. He was sick and frail and he hated it. He was dependent and needy. How did Jester love him? He couldn‘t even defend himself should anything happen!
Meanwhile, Jester went into the small kitchen, going to the stove where the rice water was still warm, filling the cup.
“Jes?” Ticket Taker hummed as he walked in, “how's the boy?” He asked, making Jester pause before turning, the filled cup in hand.
“He’s getting his appetite back, the rice water the Doctor told me about is working well. He still only wishes for me to tend to him though. Poor boy doesn‘t like being seen as weak,” Jester replied as he feigned a subtly upset expression. “… my poor boy…” Jester mumbled, just to come off as more convincing to the other.
“… He's getting better, Jes. That‘s the good thing, no?” Ticket Taker laid his hand carefully on Jester‘s shoulder.
“Yes, it is. It’s still quite the upsetting thing to go through… I wish he’d tell me what he did to get so sick… I really hope it isn‘t anything too serious. But he's scared of the Doctor… you know how… intimidating he comes off, with how sick he is, he doesn‘t want to be hurt and knows I wouldn‘t do a thing to him, but… he doesn't think the same about the others… him and Pierrot fight all the time too…” Jester sighed into his hand before rubbing one of his temples, looking down into the cup of rice water, watching the grains lazily float around the water.
“Mh… well, you should go feed him. I’ll tell the Doctor his suggestion is working well,” Ticket Taker spoke, patting Jester’s shoulder before letting his hand drop, Jester gave him a tired smile before turning to head back upstairs to his baby‘s room.
Jester‘s expression soured as soon as he was away from Ticket Taker, looking down into the rice water. He wasn‘t that mad at the Doctor helping, or trying to, the difficult part was keeping up a steady stream of lies without overly repeating himself. Sickness came with new information. It was a difficult balance to keep, Jester looked up to see Pierrot before Harlequin’s door, peering inside.
“Pierrot!” Jester quickly scolded, making Pierrot jump and turn around. Raising his hands in submission to the Ringleader of the Circus. “Don‘t you know how disrespectful it is to watch a sick person who doesn‘t want to be seen? I’ll make you clean the pavilion alone, no help from the fools, if I catch you doing this again!” Jester‘s voice raised more, making Pierrot quickly slink off, trying his hardest not to argue. Knowing Jester was quite the protective parent to his baby.
Jester sighed as he headed inside Harlequin’s bedroom. “I'm back, sweetheart,” Jester walked back over to Harlequin, setting the cup of rice water on the side table before lifting Harlequin into his arms once more, letting Harlequin stay wrapped up in his blankets. “Here, lovely, here's more rice water for you,” Jester picked up the clay cup, helping Harlequin drink once more. His sweetest baby.
How could Pierrot spy like that? How disrespectful. Couldn‘t he just be respectful to the ‘wishes’ of the sick? Sure, Jester came up with Harlequin’s wishes, but not like Harlequin could refute them with how he couldn‘t speak. So it wasn‘t Jester‘s fault.
Jester wasn‘t going to tell Harlequin the others were worried about him, that they tried to watch him best they could. Sneaking around to see Jester‘s baby. If Harlequin knew all the worries the others gave him, he’d get disrespectful. Rude. Try and leave his Mommy or, even worse, try and speak with them or see them or try and ask to be seen by the Doctor. No! He wouldn‘t have it. Harlequin is his baby. No one else’s.
Was it cruelty? Jester didn‘t believe so. It was a Mother's protection for his baby. His sweet, weak, dependent baby.
Jester watched as Harlequin silently drank, occasionally pulling back to cough. Jester rubbed Harlequin’s back. His littlest prince… so sick because he couldn‘t just stay as Mommy’s baby by himself. Couldn‘t just be with Mommy without Mommy’s help. His sweet baby was quite an idiot. Not understanding the importance of family… trying to do dangerous acts, acrobatics across a tight robe, gods- did his baby want to give Mommy a heart attack?