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She was ill, she’d told him over and over again.
He shouldn’t be so close so often, she’d begged him.
He would get sick too, she’d insisted at every turn.
… But he never listened. He never cared. Maybe he simply never understood what she was saying!
He only knew something was wrong, that she was sad and floppy and groan-y instead of happy and lively. She was extra warm, and she just looked bad.
Shaking didn’t work, respawn didn’t fix it, Medkits didn’t work, and Medic had just left her in bed all day!
. . .
But he’d done that to some of the others before, too… So maybe this was like those times, he’d decided.
He had even been like this a couple times too, except he just collapsed in a heap on the floor for however-many-days until it fixed itself. It usually did… If it didn’t, Medic found him before then.
Anyways—!
He seemed beside himself that she was like this. She hadn’t had the awareness nor the strength to pay much attention to anything else going on, but between bits of sleep she’d noticed him peeking in and out of the room, bringing a whole assortment of random things in the process. His Balloonicorn plush was a much appreciated offering, though; it was still faintly damp after being hosed down (to remove the soot) but she could not have cared less. It was tucked under one arm comfily.
Once Medic realized Pyro’s efforts, he decided to give him some more useful tasks since he wished to be of help— get a (clean) glass of drinking water, replenish the ice packs, make sure the room was as cool as it could get (she liked the compression blasts from the flamethrower!), and most importantly, make sure her temperature never got too high…
Pyro watched the numbers jump up or down a digit or two over the course of the day. It wasn’t getting better, but it wasn’t getting worse. That happened sometimes.
She’d been stuck in bed a whole day now, and nighttime was upon them. It was cooler outside now, and Medic had said he could open the windows, so he did. She was still sleeping.
Pyro plopped back down on the floor, reaching for his axe. He brought it to keep himself busy. He started sharpening the blade, slowly and carefully, else-wise remaining almost perfectly still. He eventually lost himself in the movements, mindlessly sharpening and staring…
Pyro decided to look up out of impulse, but when he did, he saw her out of bed and stumbling for the window. She was trying to close it..?
“Mmmph mmhh!” He jumped up in a hurry, throwing the axe down and coming to stand in front of her. He used his palms to push her away, standing between her and the window. “Mmmm mm!”
She looked bewildered. Her bleary, sunken eyes wandered past him as she reached for the crank. “Py… I’m cold, bud…” She croaked.
She settled her hand on the crank, Pyro watching. Her words processed quickly. Pyro shook his head.
“Mmmp!” Medic had said to leave the windows open, so he would keep them open.
Pyro knew how to fix ‘cold’.
He (gently) pulled her hand off the crank, and he began to nudge her back to the bed. Thinking he was just going to lie her down again, she sat on the edge, preparing to swing her legs up.
Not quite.
Pyro kept holding on, and then himself sat down. Before she could lay down, he already had, and didn’t leave much room on the bed thanks to the bulky suit…
To her bewilderment, he started reeling her closer, until she flopped over top of him with his pulls. He was quite fussy, nudging her this way and that, squirming, holding her as tight as he could, but she was too confused and tired to do much besides watch…
He scooted her up so her head roughly covered his shoulder strap, and he tucked her arms into her chest so she was resting in an almost fetal-like position on his chest and stomach… She heard the puffs of air from his mask in her ear, and watched as he turned to look at her as best he could. He squirmed a little more, trying to reach for something.
She felt something soft and still damp pushed up towards her.
“Mm-mmr?”
Her eyes fluttered… His right arm reached up, elbow braced on the bed and hand cupping her tiny waist…
She took hold of Ballooniplush, and stroked the somewhat wiry and uneven pelt-like fabric.
He could see her smile.
“… Better.”