Chapter Text
When Pure Vanilla woke up, he was lying in bed. A thin sheet and simple sleep clothes were the only thing shielding him from the cold air. He shivered, trying to pull the blanket tighter around him. He frowned when it seemed to be stuck on something. Something rather heavy. A whine escaped his throat, causing him to wince. The feeling of his whole body hurting hit him like a brick.
“Morning, sleeping beauty.” A finger traced along Pure Vanilla's nose. “That was a pretty good nap you took there. How ya feeling?”
How was he feeling? He must be running a fever, as he simultaneously felt too hot and too cold. His limbs felt far too heavy. His head was pounding. He wanted to go back to sleep.
“So, not great then?”
“Did I say that out loud?” His voice came out weak, cracking on the last word. He coughed, trying to clear his throat. Unfortunately, he just ended up in a full blown coughing fit instead.
Shadow Milk's hand cupped his cheek, the coolness of his dough causing Pure Vanilla to shiver again. Or had he ever stopped? The throbbing ache in his head had him curl in on himself with another whine.
Before he could even attempt to fall back asleep, there was the sound of the door creaking open. Hushed murmurs filled the room as a group of cookies entered. In his fever addled brain, he managed to connect the dots and realize the group must be his friends.
“How's he doing?” That was White Lily. She sounded so concerned, it made him feel even worse, if that was possible.
“Well, he just woke up. And was talking to me a bit. Said he's not feeling great, no surprise there.” Shadow Milk gently rubbed his back. “Do you wanna interrogate him now?”
That did not sound fun. Not that anything did, at the moment. Really all he wanted to do was remain cuddled up next to his partner. Unfortunately, Shadow Milk himself betrayed him by gently tugging Pure Vanilla upright into a seated position. At least the jester allowed him to remain slumped against his chest.
He felt a hand press to his forehead, then his cheek. “Hmm. Still warmer than I'd like. How do you feel, Vani?”
Pure Vanilla mumbled something, trying to snuggle closer to Shadow Milk. He was so cold. A side effect of the fever, he knew. Logically, he knew that covering himself in blankets would result in overheating, but the idea was so tempting.
Shadow Milk rubbed his shoulders. “C'mon, ‘Nills. You've gotta give us some actual symptoms you're experiencing. That way we can help you.”
That made sense, he supposed. It didn't make the idea of speaking any easier though. He swallowed hard, trying his best to analyze his own health. “Mmm… cold. And hot. Feverish, I think.” He squinted. “My head hurts. Well, everything hurts. Uh… I'm tired. Really tired.” He sniffled, rubbing at his nose.
“Alright,” White Lily shuffled around the bed, sitting on his other side. “Do you have any idea why your magic isn't helping more with this? Are you refraining from healing yourself?”
“I don't think so?” He tilted his head. “It's, like… far away.”
Shadow Milk snorted. “What? What do you mean?”
He started to answer, but was cut off by a sneeze. And then another. And another. Until he practically felt light headed, despite the steady hold of his partner. The sneezing fit ended with him wheezing and clinging to Shadow Milk to keep himself upright. His head was spinning.
“Breathe, ‘Nill!” The jester exclaimed, rubbing his back.
White Lily handed him a napkin, which he accepted, blowing his nose. It was quickly swiped away as soon as he was done, and he assumed Shadow Milk had sent it somewhere into the Other Realm. Still wheezing softly, he hid his face against Shadow Milk's shoulder.
“Vani, I know you're tired, but what did you mean by your magic ‘felt far away?’” White Lily asked as she pressed the back of her hand to his cheek, stroking it gently.
Head dipping forward, he shrugged. His train of thought had been completely wiped from his memory. Sleep was becoming harder and harder to fight off. It was clear they wanted more out of him, but he wasn't sure he could give it. Letting out another whine, he shook his head, forehead brushing against the fabric of Shadow Milk's sleep shirt.
Arms wrapped around his body, slowly lowering him back down against the pillows. He was dimly aware of someone asking him to open his mouth. He complied, grimacing when the familiar feeling of medicine hit his tongue. The only good thing that came from being this sick, was that he couldn't taste the medicine at all.
The next few hours were spent in a drift between sleep and a half conscious state. Occasionally he would grow dimly aware of someone checking his temperature and a new cool washcloth being pressed onto his forehead, but he never fully escaped the clutch of exhaustion.
To his disappointment, he was woken up from the first genuine sleep he had been able to snatch by a major coughing fit. He sat bolt upright in the bed, covering his mouth with his arm. The coughs rattled in his chest, making his throat hurt as well. Finally he could breathe again, but only through painful gasps. Tears stung his eyes, and he quickly swiped them away.
He shifted under the covers, then found a familiar form curled up next to him. Shadow Milk. Immediately, he felt a rush of relief. He didn't want to be alone. Rolling over, he cuddled up next to his partner. The coolness of Shadow Milk's dough felt amazing against his own.
Shadow Milk hummed, a sleepy noise that confirmed the Beast certainly wasn't awake. Even in his sleep, his partner draped an arm around his shoulders.
It was the quickest he had fallen asleep in weeks.