Work Text:
Earth had a lot of work to do.
The planet sat at the kitchen table, munching mindlessly on a bowl of chips, and the only reason that he wasn't camped out in Sun's room was that he was forced to take a break. A break! Seriously?! Now? Look, he appreciates Jupiter's concern, but now is not the time for him to be taking a break.
There's too much going on–too much at stake for Earth to even think of relaxing for even a moment. What if something happened when he was asleep? What if taking a little nap led to someone dying?
It was a very real possibility, by the way.
Too real.
Earth crunched down on a chip, his fingers drumming on the wooden table in a steady tap tap, tap tap, tap tap. He didn't want to take a break. He didn't want to be here, sitting at the table when Sun could be in trouble! A trouble only Earth knew how to fix.
A scowl pulled his face down, his jaw clenching tighter as the anxious buzz in his ears grew louder. Why couldn't Jupiter understand that? Earth felt good, happy, safe when he was in that room, surrounded by all the beeping machines that confirmed Sun was still alive and kicking.
Not here.
It was too quiet.
There was this silence that was almost like the house was holding its breath. The tension practically suffocated Earth when he first stepped out of the room, smothering the planet like a thick blanket.
He hated it.
He hated how it set him on edge waiting for something horrible to inevitably happen. He was fine! It was fine! Everything was fine if he could just stay in that room and monitor the Sun's condition.
But stupid Luna tattletaled to stupid Jupiter and stupid Saturn about how stupid Earth wasn't paying enough attention to taking care of his own stupid body, so here he was! Outside of the little bubble where he was in control, and thrown out to the wolves.
Earth huffed out a sharp breath, annoyance tinged with frustration swirling throughout his mind. He just wanted to help! Why didn't they let him do that? This is his surface, if you forgot. He knows the ways around things and how these bodies work, so logically he shouldn't be taking a break! He's the most valuable player, and they're benching him?
It's insane. He could easily balance taking care of himself and everyone else. But nope, because "oh no, you've done enough and still need to recover. We're all in the same boat here, Earth. This isn't to punish you, Earth. You need to get better too, Earth. We're worried about you Earth. You're pushing yourself too hard, Earth."
Yeah, well maybe you should take some of your own advice, Jupiter.
Earth hadn't seen the biggest planet sleep since they got down here. And maybe part of that was because Earth had been unconscious for the first couple days (screw you stupid body and its limitations. He intended to bring everyone down here–no planet, moon, or dwarf planet left behind–and nothing could stop him. Or, well he'd thought nothing could stop him…until he collapsed and passed out and blah blah blah), but still, he'd thought he would've seen Jupiter at least take a nap.
But nope. Nothing. Nada. The planet worked day and night, checking in on everyone, volunteering for the night shifts watching over Sun that everybody else was too exhausted to do–anything that needed to be done, Jupiter was on the case.
Earth had tried to warn him. Many times actually, reminding everyone that these bodies are way more delicate and fragile than their celestial forms. They break easily, so please, please be careful. He's already under enough stress as it is; he doesn't need to add yet another name to the list of bed-ridden people.
Earth rubbed his aching eyes with a heavy sigh, already dreading his next conversation with Jupiter. No matter how many times Earth tried to convince the gas giant to rest, it was all, "I'm fine, Earth, no need to worry. You just focus on resting up."
Ah but Earth was worrying, thank you very much. Jupiter wasn't immortal. None of them were! Human bodies were fragile and they needed to be careful. His track record for deaths-on-his-surface was close to zero (unfortunately there have been some…incidents. So it wasn't at complete zero. And there were far too many close calls for the planet's comfort), and he would love to keep it that way.
But it was hard when nobody listened to what he was telling them! They can't just go gallivanting around forgetting about their basic necessities, or else there will be consequences! Neglecting your body has repercussions, what part of that was so hard to understand?
Ugh. Stars above, he's going to–
–go insane. Yeah. Yeah…that's what he was going to say. They're driving him nuts and he's gonna go crazy one of these days.
At least that would be more fun than whatever the hell this is.
Earth groaned, pushing away the bowl of chips and running his hands down his face, falling back into the chair with another, heavy sigh. His chest tightened, that same old, crushing anxiety leaking into his mind and whispering those scary thoughts he'd tried so hard to push away.
Stars above, why did this have to be so hard? Why did he have to be so stressed all the time? His head ached, the mind-numbing exhaustion flaring up again just to remind him of the misery he'd put himself in.
He'd…he'd thought it would be better–easier even–to bring everyone down to recover on his surface. They'd have better medicine, be more comfortable, could love and care for one another without the issue of, y'know, being hundreds of times larger than each other.
But…
Earth stared at the ceiling, blinking past the burning pressure blooming behind his eyes.
It wasn't.
It wasn't easier–none of this was "easy!" You think it's fun constantly worrying if your parent/father-figure/it's complicated would ever wake up again? You think it's fun running around the house checking in to make sure everyone is still alive? You think he liked being terrified to fall asleep because what if something happened? What if someone died or got hurt and it was Earth's fault for not getting there in time to save them.
So much could go wrong, and he only amplified that danger by bringing the entire Solar System down with him. The Solar System that is famous for lacking in the survival-instincts category.
It was only a matter of time before something happened that Earth couldn't fix.
The helpless, frustrated feeling bubbled back up in his chest, swelling like a water balloon about to burst. He chewed on his lip, sucking in a sharp, shaky inhale, fruitlessly fighting back the budding tears.
Stars above…
He can't keep doing this. But he can't stop. He can't put his loved ones' lives on the line because he's what? A little tired. God he's so tired. Tired of dealing with this, tired of holding it together when all he wanted to do was cry, tired of worrying and spiraling and panicking over the slightest things.
But he can't rest. Not now when everything's riding on him.
…hah. So he's just one big walking contradiction, isn't he?
Stars, why couldn't things just be simple? Earth sagged with another long, heavy sigh, slumping over the table and burying his face in his arms. The frustrated planet huffed, swallowing past the lump in his throat and ignoring the way his achy eyes stung, pricking with the beginnings of tears. Why couldn't it all be painted in black and white, good and bad, easy to distinguish and even easier to live by.
A shiver ran up his spine, goosebumps prickling underneath his skin, but Earth ignored it, shoving his head into the dark, safe little hole he'd made for himself.
Nothing could go wrong in here. Nothing could hurt him or his family.
It was just Earth and his thoughts, ignorant to the chaos of the outside world.
The low, thrumming pulse in the back of his head faded as Earth sat there, pressing his flushed cheeks against the cool wood of the table with a content hum. Yeah, see this was nice. Couldn't he just do this for all of eternity? Another shiver wracked through his body (can someone please close that window? The breeze is far too cold.), his joints protesting as he shifted and winced.
Ow…
Earth groaned–more annoyed than anything else–the sound muffled by his face smushed against the table. His back twinged, and he knew that this position would bite him in the butt (both literally and figuratively; they really needed to get softer cushions), but he didn't want to move.
It was comfortable…in a way. Kinda? Okay fine it wasn't that comfortable–in fact, he couldn't think of a more uncomfortable place to fall asleep than at the dinner table, but he was tired and stressed so leave him alone, okay?! And he's not sleeping! He's just resting for a moment.
The peace of the post-lunch but pre-afternoon chaos fell overtop Earth like a soft, fluffy blanket, silencing the racing thoughts worrying about everything and replacing it with a blissful quiet. The type of quiet that didn't send the planet careening into a spiral of dread and terror.
It was…calm.
Strangely calm, but Earth wasn't bothered to worry about it. Someone else could handle it. He wasn't the only one with medical knowledge, after all. Earth made sure of that. And besides, if something was going on that was important or whatever, he trusted that the others could handle it.
They were strong. Everyone was, actually.
Earth let out a long exhale like he was a balloon deflating, the anxious energy itching beneath his skin finally deciding to take a nap and leave him alone.
…hmm take a nap, huh? Maybe it was onto something.
A yawn broke free before he could reign it in, exhaustion wrapping around him like an old friend crushing him in a biggg hug. It sunk into his bones, infecting his mind in the blink of an eye, and tugging his eyelids down like heavy weights were anchored to them. His breaths evened out, slowing down just like his thoughts.
His body still hurt, and part of his mind still clung to the worry of the outside world, but resting here sounded way better than trekking all the way upstairs to check on Sun.
Way…way better.
It tired him out even more just thinking about making the long journey.
Okay, look he's only going to close his eyes for a minute. They need a rest after working so hard throughout the day with looking at things and reading and whatnot. Then he'll get right back to work. A little break is all he needs to rejuvenate his energy. And besides, this is what Jupiter told him to do, isn't it? He's just following orders.
Earth closed his eyes, the last of the tension leaking from his body as the planet with Life gifted his body a moment of rest. But just a moment! Nothing more…because–because he has to…get back…to work.
He's not falling asleep.
He's not.
He's not…
He's…
"...Earth?"
The voice cut through his hazy thoughts, stirring the slumbering planet from his sleep with a hesitant finger poking his side.
Go away…
Earth just grunted in reply, turning to bury his head further in his arms like an ostrich. Can't you see he was busy? He had some very important business going on. Like sleeping. So leave him alone.
"Earth?" Hands rubbed his shoulders, drawing circles around the sore muscles there (something he realised when he shifted again and his back twinged in discomfort), the touch gentle and soft and so, so familiar, "Are you alright?"
What do you think?
Earth grumbled, clenching his eyes tight to block out the light that just loved to attack his brain in the way that would flare up the fiery headache already pulsing in the back of his skull, swatting Luna away with a sluggish, heavy hand, "...'m fine. Just…lemme sleep…"
"Earth, come on…" Luna huffed, tapping his shoulders again, summoning a sudden shiver that ran from his toes up to his head–something the moon definitely realized too with the way the touch drew back. He cleared his throat, Earth biting back a hiss of pain as the sound attacked his brain with hot, fiery knives, "Oh, uhm, how about we get you to your bed, yes? That'll be much more comfortable than the kitchen table."
The kitchen table–?
Oh. So that's why his butt hurt so much.
"Earth?" Luna said, sounding much closer and much, much clearer than before. "Can I help you up?"
Nope, he can help himself up, thank you very much. He is perfectly capable of doing anything he puts his mind to! He's the Earth! This is his surface. He's practically a god down here!
Earth shifted, willing his stubborn, far too heavy arms to push himself up. His back twinged, protesting his movement as he heaved himself up, peeling open his eyes to squint past his blurry vision, ignoring the way it doubled and swam and how his arms shook and he swayed and the world tilted–
–and he was back. On the table. With his hot, flushed face squished against the cool wood as he panted for breath, heart racing and chest clenching tighter than it was before.
Ow…he twitched his fingers, but the thought of moving again just brought another dizzy spell crashing down on him, everything spinning and spinning and spinning and didn't stop.
"Woah, Earth!" Luna exclaimed, voice pitching higher in a way that brought guilt gnawing at his mind. "Slow down. It's–it's okay. We're in no rush, alright?"
The headache stole away his coherent thoughts, and so Earth just let out a pathetic, miserable groan, too exhausted to do anything else than just sit there and wallow in pain. Nausea crept up his throat, his stomach flip-flopping like it was doing backflips in his body.
Ough…
A whine spilt from his chapped lips, but Earth refused to give up. He couldn't stop now. He needed–Sun needed him. He needed to be strong enough. He needed to be good enough to help everyone. He needed…he needed…
The hand carding through his hair stalled his thoughts, the touch magnificently cold against his hot, sweaty skin. No doubt his hair was a big, greasy, tangled mess–a sensory nightmare to touch–but apparently Luna didn't care. Or he was too worried about Earth to pay attention to that. One of the two.
"Earth…" the touch slipped down to cup his cheeks, gently lifting his head from the table so that the moon could look his planet in his hazy eyes, "What happened? I thought we agreed you would tell us if you weren't feeling good!"
Earth nodded–or, tried to, but only managed to make himself even dizzier–clenching his eyes shut and leaning into the touch with mumbled apologies, "...'m sorry Luna. I–I jus' wanted…I was f'ne b-but then–"
"It's okay," Luna interrupted, cutting off what would've become feverish rambles, "Earth, I get it. You don't need to apologize."
Sorry…
The back of Luna's hand pressed against his forehead, and Earth let out a crackling hum, wincing with another pained groan as his temples throbbed. Please just get it to stop.
Luna let out a surprised hiss, snapping Earth back into focus and yanking back his hand like he was burnt, "Jeez Earth you're burning up! How long have you had this fever for? How did we not catch this?!"
Luna continued his rant, but Earth's focus turned to not throwing up all over him. Bile rose up his throat, the planet stubbornly refusing to let it pass. No. He will not throw up on Luna. He will not throw up at all. Earth clenched his jaw tighter, swallowing the nausea and bile crawling up his throat and ignoring the weird gurgle of his stomach.
"Hey, Earth?" Luna's voice reappeared, softer than the surprised rambling from before. Earth grunted in a reply, hopefully sounding more alive than he was feeling. Something pressed against his arm–the cool glass sending a pleasant shudder throughout his body. He straightened up, and suddenly the glass was pressed against his chapped lips, "Can you drink some water for me?"
Even just the thought of drinking anything was enough to send Earth careening down the cliff off nausea, his stomach cramping up. Eugh. Keep it down. Keep it down, Earth. You can do it. He shook his head, clumsily pushing the glass of water away (and spilling some of it in the process, but he had to admit the cool water felt heavenly against his hot, sweaty skin), grumbling nonsensical gibberish that even he couldn't understand.
"Ugh, Earth! Come on, please work with me here, " Luna huffed, and Earth did feel bad for fighting back–but Luna didn't understand that Earth physically could not drink anything without throwing up! And nobody wanted to clean up that mess, so he was doing everyone a favor here.
Besides, he's the Earth. The very planet they're standing on, which has water on, like 70% of his surface. So he doesn't need to drink water. He has enough of it already!
So go away. Stop bothering him and please just let him sleep. The energy he used for existing had gone down the drain. It's all using back up power now, running off the generator of forcing-yourself-to-stay-awake. Luna's words and the world mushed together into a realm that felt like a dream–slow and sluggish and unreal. It almost felt like he was being kicked out of his own mind and body.
Weird…
"–rth? Earth?" A different voice floated through his ears, reeling the sleepy planet back into his own mind. This voice held a softer edge to it–almost musical in sound–feather-light touch resting on his back to gently shake Earth awake, "Sweetie, I can help you feel better, but you have to wake up first."
Ugh. Fine.
Earth peeled open his eyes, squinting past the blurry, unfocused haze fogging his vision to glare at Saturn, the message of "leave me alone. I want to sleep" hopefully clear enough in Earth's attempt of a scowl.
Saturn was not, in fact, swayed by Earth's valiant effort to drive him away, instead kneeling down to his level and offering the rocky planet a smile when their eyes met. Frustratingly, Earth's remaining energy abandoned him right then and there, all his hopes and dreams of turning away and going back to the little hidey hole in his arms withering away.
If there was a prize for the most sick and miserable person, Earth's pretty sure he would've won it by now. His sore butt ached from the uncomfortable chair, his back practically spasmed every time he tried to move, his sore neck held up his heavy, throbbing head–pretty much every part of his body ached in one way or another. And to top it all off, his stomach kept flip-flopping and clenching in tighter and tighter knots, sending wave after wave of nausea that he could no longer fight back.
Saturn and Luna exchanged some words Earth couldn't care less about, his attention drawing to the strange feeling creeping up his throat. He closed his eyes, clammy palms clenching into fists as a gurgling sound rumbled in his stomach, prompting a high-pitched whine from the planet and yet another dizzy spell.
"Hey–" Saturn's voice softened to something Earth did not deserve, gentle touch brushing a strand of sweaty hair out of his eyes and tucking it behind his ears. The world paused its spinning for a blissful moment of peace, allowing Earth to open his eyes and focus on Saturn's form hovering over him.
"There you are…" Saturn smiled, eyes crinkling like it could hide the awful eye bags he wore. But it didn't. Because nobody rested properly these days. Something Earth should've been working on fixing, instead of lying here a weak, miserable mess. "It's okay," Saturn hummed, and Earth could've laughed if he had the energy to because everything about this was the complete opposite of 'okay.'
Luna popped back into Earth's view, wringing his hands together and face drawn in a taunt, worried expression, "Uhm, do I–"
"I've got this," Saturn said, ducking in a nod that brought golden hair falling into his gaze, "He'll be okay. It just looks like our little friend here pushed himself too hard again."
Wha–how dare Saturn say that! Earth had a job to do and couldn't afford to rest. Too much relied on him. It was all his responsibility! He had to worry and work and do all he could for everyone, no matter the cost.
Earth scowled–but before he could say anything, a pair of strong, steady arms wrapped themselves around him, scooping Earth out of the chair and into their hold. Instantly, the frustration evaporated to nothing, and he instinctively threw his arms around Saturn's neck, burying his face in the crook of his neck with a whine.
Ow…his body felt like one giant bruise, and Earth couldn't help but curse the human bodies for being so weak. Yeah, sure, these were his Earthlings and he loved them and blah blah blah all that nonsense, but their celestial forms were much, much stronger than this. And if they were in space, Saturn could use his special healing powers to make all the aches and pains disappear with a flick of a wrist and brilliant golden glow.
Earth sucked in a shuddering breath that quickly turned to another pained groan, and Saturn hummed in acknowledgment, the sound rumbling in Earth's ears in an almost soothing way.
…with or without powers, Saturn still found a way to magically make everything feel better.
Earth closed his eyes, clinging to the bigger planet like a lifeline, his trembling hands balling into fists around Saturn's shirt. Underneath his fingertips, the steady ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump of Saturn's heartbeat pulsed. He clung to the sound, breathing in time with the rise and fall of Saturn's chest. It was silly, but he was sick and tired and he latched onto anything that could take away some of the pain.
Another shiver wracked through his body, bringing a shaky, breathless gasp from Earth. Saturn's hands shifted to rub circles in his back, unknotting the tension and letting the little planet melt against the other. It was nice. Being held. He missed this when everyone was gone.
He'd missed everyone. So, so much.
But now they're back! So there's no need to worry about that. Worry over important things instead. Like the recovery process because everyone was either injured, sick, traumatized, or some mixture of all three.
"Sweetie…" Saturn murmured softly over the creaking of the door, stirring the planet that had almost fallen asleep in the warm embrace. Earth sluggishly blinked awake, the darkness of the room hiding Saturn's face in shadow. "I'm going to put you down now–"
A sound of protest burst from his lips–one that Saturn quickly silenced with a gentle shush.
"It's okay," he shushed, shifting his weight from side to side (and if Earth could think better, he would've felt guilty over making Saturn carry him for so long when he could walk fine himself), "Your bed is right here, and I'm not going anywhere, Earth. I promise."
Earth tried to argue–tried to say that Saturn should be helping someone else. Someone more important. Literally anyone other than Earth. There were too many people sick and injured for Earth to be hogging Saturn's attention. Like…like Sun! Sun needed help more than Earth. Saturn should go. Earth's fine!
He didn't want to be the reason someone didn't get the help they deserved.
He didn't want to be the reason someone died.
But, because the universe was cruel and decided it loved playing jokes on him, Saturn did not heed his warnings. Earth couldn't even say anything! An incoherent, blubbering mess spilled from his lips, his words slurring together into a big tangled blob of complete gibberish.
The bed reached up to greet him as Saturn lowered Earth down, and he didn't even have time to mourn the receding touch, because when his head hit the pillow the fatigue instantly won and his eyes slipped shut with a deep, shuddering sigh.
There wasn't a final moment of peace or a stray thought before he fell asleep, just bam! Gone. Instantly conking out like a switch was flipped, his body greedily grabbing the first chance it got at resting.
In the waking world, Saturn just chuckled quietly, leaning over to press a gentle kiss on Earth's forehead. "Sleep well darling," he whispered, pulling up a chair to the bed and sending a quick text to Jupiter updating him on the situation, before putting his phone away to focus on Earth and Earth alone.
Because he promised he wouldn't leave.
And Saturn never breaks a promise.