Lillcarolyn - Sem Título

Glitchy

Celebrating the 400 followers milestones. Thanks y'all!

Thanks as usual to my precious @vcepsis for beta reading, you’re incredible! ❤

———-

It was the smell that woke him up.

Like every individual of his species, Keith had an incredible sense of smell. Every little change, every little difference hit his sensitive nose like a punch.

And Keith was sure, in the whole year he had spent on Earth after his disastrous crash landing, that Shiro had never had a smell like that.

To Keith, Shiro smelled masculine, but sweet at the same time. Aftershave, clean clothes, a pinch of honey. A smell that Keith had loved since the very first moment, when Shiro had extracted the young Galra from the pile of twisted metal that was his ship.

Shiro smelled like home, love and safety.

But this time, Shiro’s scent wasn’t comforting at all. Keith wasn’t sure what it was, but he could definitely sense something that made alarm bells sound in his head. The smell of danger.

Immediately awake and alert, Keith shook Shiro’s shoulder. Under his hand, the bigger body was shaking, and Keith felt his throat constrict out of concern.

Shiro was a war veteran, and he often had terrible nightmares which left him waking up gasping, soaked in sweat and trembling.

Keith tried to shush him down, but as soon as he started carding his fingers through Shiro’s hair, he froze. An abnormal, dry heat was coming in waves off of Shiro.

Keith still knew very little about humans, but he could recognize pain and discomfort when he saw it, and Shiro was definitely in pain.

He shook Shiro’s shoulder more firmly, and the human groaned, his glassy eyes barely opened.

“Ke…ith…?” Shiro tried to moan, but his tongue felt like dry wool, and his mouth felt so sore.

“Shiro? I think there’s something wrong with you… ”

Shiro’s expression suddenly changed, his eyelids fluttering desperately, his breath hitching. After a few seconds of agony, Shiro sneezed into his hand, scaring Keith.

“Just a cold, I think…” Shiro sniffed pitifully, reaching onto his nightstand for tissues, his hand still in front of his face.

Keith gave him a confused look.

“Cold? But… how is that possible? You feel really hot.”

Shiro sighed, pulling a few tissues out of the box. Before he could reply, he sneezed again, and blew wetly into the tissues.

Keith gasped in disgust and backed away.

“Shiro, your brain is leaking out!”

Shiro chuckled tiredly.

“Don’t worry, my brain is still in its place. I’ll probably be doing this a lot for a few days. It’s normal.”

Keith furrowed his brows. Nothing of that seemed normal. Shiro was too hot, he was leaking weird fluids. And his husky, congested voice was not normal either.

Keith bit his bottom lip, fangs showing slightly.

“Do humans do this a lot?”

Shiro coughed into his elbow, lowering himself back down.

“Not really. Only when they’re ill. I might be a little tired for a few days, but I’ll be okay. Besides, I think Galra are immune to this. You don’t have to worry.”

Shiro yawned and smiled tiredly, but Keith still wasn’t convinced.

“Is there something I can do for you?”

Shiro shook his head, burrowing his head into the pillow.

“I’ll feel better after a good night of sleep. If I still feel bad I’ll take some medicine, but I don’t feel too bad just yet. Come back to sleep, Keith. I’ll be okay.”

Keith eyed Shiro suspiciously, but he decided to let his worries drown and he cuddled against Shiro’s muscular chest once again.

They both fell asleep in a short time.

…

Their house was on fire, and Keith was trying to crawl out of the burning building. He could hear somebody coughing, in that ocean of fire and smoke. Shiro! He had to go back and save him. But just as Keith turned around in search for Shiro, a burning door fell on him, and Keith woke up with a gasp.

His skin and t-shirt were damp with sweat, but Keith realized that it wasn’t his own. In his arms, Shiro was absolutely soaked. And way too hot.

Shiro was radiating heat like a stove, yet somehow he was still shivering. It was almost impossible for Keith to stay so close to him.

Whatever it was, this was not normal. Gently, Keith tried to shake Shiro awake.

“Hey… wake up…”

Shiro opened his eyes, but barely. He clearly wasn’t conscious, and the absent look in his fever-bright eyes scared Keith to death. Ragged breaths escaped Shiro’s chapped lips, and Keith pressed his cool hands on his angry red cheeks.

Burning.

Shiro gasped in pain, a sound that broke Keith’s heart. He had to do something, but what? He had never seen such a violent reaction in Galra people.

Then, for some reason, his brain reminded him of the time when Shiro had taught him how to bake an apple pie. They had put it on the window sill, “to cool down”, like Shiro had said.

Maybe it worked for humans too!

Keith tried to lift Shiro, not without difficulties.

He was really tiny for his species, and the human was a heavy, tall mountain of muscles.

Huffing and sighing, Keith managed to drag Shiro to their backyard, and deposited him under their oak tree.

Shiro didn’t look any better. He was barely conscious and the cold night air only made his chills worse.

He mustered all his energy and managed to rasp “Keith… c-cold…” before passing out again.

Keith almost screeched in frustration, at loss of what to do.

He left Shiro under the tree, and crossed the garden to call their neighbour. He needed help.

He banged on the door, calling loudly.

“Hunk! HUNK!”

After a few minutes of calling and shouting, a sleepy boy appeared at the door, rubbing his tired eyes. He was still in his pajamas, and he didn’t seem happy that his sleep was interrupted.

“Keith? It’s three in the morning, I hope you have a good explanation for this.”

“Shiro is glitchy!” Keith screamed, breathless.

Hunk blinked at him, not sure he had comprehended.

“Shiro is what?”

“Glitchy!”

Hunk stared at him in silence for a few seconds, confusion written all over his face.

“Keith, what are you talking about? Are you sleepwalking? Go back to bed, let’s talk tomorrow…”

“NO!”

Keith grabbed Hunk’s shoulders, urgency in his voice.

“You have to help me! He’s hot, in pain and he can’t wake up! There’s something wrong!”

Something finally clicked in Hunk’s head. He hurried to grab his coat and he asked Keith to lead the way.

They found Shiro in the same exact place where Keith had left him, still and pale as a sheet save for the red flush on his cheeks and ears.

Hunk knelt down, palming Shiro’s face and neck and hissing at the heat. He was on fire.

Hunk tried to shake him, gently.

“Shiro. It’s Hunk. Come on, man, open your eyes.”

Shiro slowly came to, trying to say something, but Hunk shushed him down.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

Hunk lifted Shiro with less difficulty than Keith had, being larger and stronger, and carried him inside, depositing him on the couch.

Without a word, Hunk went to the bathroom to fetch a washcloth and some water.

When he came back, the scene in front of him almost brought him to tears. Keith was sitting on the ground in front of the couch, his yellow eyes full of sadness and worry, and his big furry ears were lowered in such a way that it was just painful to see. Hunk carefully deposited the cloth on Shiro’s forehead, and scratched Keith’s head affectionately.

“He’ll be okay. It’s just a fever. He’ll be up and about again in no time. Don’t worry, Keith.”

Keith looked at Shiro with apprehension.

Pale, sweaty and unconscious, his love looked anything but okay.

At loss of what to do, Keith leaned his head on Shiro’s chest to comfort him, but ended up counting his heartbeats. Fast, but steady.

A rhythmic lullaby that he loved so dearly.

Keith closed his eyes. Shiro felt so alive underneath his touch. Before he knew it, Keith was lulled to sleep by the heartbeats of his soulmate. Hunk chuckled, and sat in the armchair next to them. It was going to be a long night.

27 notes View Post

lillcarolyn

2 years ago

Hi could you write something where A has been hiding sickness for a while now, but suddenly B got sick as well (maybe got it from A) and everyone else are too busy so they ask A to take care of B not knowing A is worse off? Maybe A even gave up some comfort items or the last meds for B?

just a disclaimer that this is all in good fun and not actually recommended treatment for the following illness - I just wrote purely from vibes lol 😆

A suppresses another cough in the corner of their elbow, disguising it as a clear of their throat. They’ve definitely felt off for the past week or so - deep aches and chills all the way to their bones, a constant cough, and the desire to just stay curled up in bed - but they’re not going to tell anyone that.

Instead, they pull on a sweatshirt and head down to the kitchen to make themselves a cup of tea to ease their shivers, praying that today is the day they finally take a turn for the better.

“Hey, have you seen the hot water bottle anywhere?” C bursts into the room, eyes searching urgently, just as A takes their first sip.

“Um…yeah, it’s in my room.” And it’s been my constant companion for the last two nights because I ache all over and can’t get warm for anything. “Why?”

“B woke up not feeling great, so I was gonna grab it and give it to them. You’re good if I take it?”

“…Sure.” A rolls their shoulders, rubbing their aching joints and trying to stretch out their sore muscles. They’ll take a hot bath later, then.

“Thanks,” C says, darting back out of the room, then suddenly poking their head back in. “Hey, A?”

“Hmm?”

“Listen, I’ve got a bunch of errands to run today and a work meeting I’ve got to go into the office for, and D’s working later at the hospital, so do you think you could look after B?”

A shrugs, clearing their throat. “Sure.” If C’s asking them, then B must be much worse off than them - so they owe it to them to suck it up and help out.

After they finish their tea, they head upstairs to B’s room. B’s curled up in bed reading a book, hot water bottle laying on their stomach.

“How’re you feeling, B?” Despite not feeling well themselves, A has to admit that B looks a little wan and peaked.

B sets the book down, coughing into their elbow. “I’m okay. Just a fever, aches, that sort of thing.” Their voice is scratchy, but they’re clear-eyed and alert.

Same as them a few days ago, then. Guilt washes over A - if they’d have just confessed to being sick, they could’ve isolated and B would be okay. This is all my fault. “Well, can I get you anything?” They try to brighten their voice, but overdo it and it just comes out sounding forced.

But if B notices, they don’t let on. “Maybe….some cough medicine? It’s all in my chest, and coughing hurts.” They rub their breastbone with a wince, pulling the hot water bottle over their chest.

“On it.” A shuffles off to the bathroom, pulling the brown bottle they know all too well from the medicine cabinet. There’s only a little left, but they don’t even give it a second thought - B needs it more, and they can text C to grab more while they’re out. Their hands tremble as they pour the remainder of thick liquid into the little cup, and they squeeze their eyes shut to try and stop shaking. Come on, A. Get it together.

By the time A sets the dose of cough medicine on the nightstand, their vision’s swirling in their eyes. Even walking to the bathroom was exhausting.

“A, are you alright?” B sits up in bed, eyebrows furrowed as they pick up the dose and knock it back. “You’re really pale.”

“I’m…I’m fine.” A sudden shudder rattles their teeth and they lean on B’s bed for stability. Despite their layers, their whole body’s just gone ice cold, a sheen of cold sweat and goosebumps covering their body. They tilt toward the bed and lean heavily against the mattress, bracing themselves with both their arms, suddenly finding it hard to take a full breath between the deep, painful coughs.

“A, I’m serious, are you sure you’re…”

But A doesn’t hear the rest as their knees slip, and they’re falling down, down…..

“A. Wake up. Come on, now.” B’s raspy voice cuts through the haze, commanding with an edge of fear. They’re out of bed and on the floor with them, looking just as shaken as A feels. “Get up. Please.”

A blinks awake, immediately aware that B’s at their side, tugging at their sweatshirt, trying to lift them off the floor.

“A. Get in bed. Now.” B’s voice is someone between stern and on the verge of tears. A’s so spent that they can’t even respond verbally, so as B half-lifts them with their remaining strength, A claws at the comforter to pull themselves up, up, until they tip onto the covers in a heap next to B. They cough deeply, the effort burning in their chest, and moan slightly. In a minute, they’ll get up and care for B.

“A….are you sick too?” B’s crackly voice sounds small and scared, and A wishes that they could spare them from this.

I should’ve said something. This is my fault. I’m sorry.

But a sob is the only thing that can escape their lips as they nod. They’ve been trying and trying so hard not to bother anyone with this, and now they’re collapsing in front of the only other sick person in the house.

“God, A, why didn’t you say something?” The words are angry, but A can hear the tremble in B’s voice.

“I’m sorry,” A weeps. “I just didn’t know what to say.”

“Hey, hey, you’re alright. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped.” B clears their throat, resting a hand on A’s shoulder. “You’re just scaring me, is all. Tell me what’s up.”

“I’m so cold,” A chatters weakly, hugging themselves. That’s all they can get out, anyways. In reality, they’re feverish and cold to the bone, shivering from head to toe, and their chest is on fire. They’ve barely done anything and yet they can’t catch their breath, and the air feels thick and heavy when they breathe.

B hurriedly covers them with a blanket, pulling them close and rubbing their shoulders, pressing the hot water bottle to their chest. A clings to it like a lifeline against their sore chest, but the chills still course through their body. Nothing warms them - they’re slowly freezing from the inside out, even though they can feel their head and joints burning with fever.

The next hours (or days - A’s lost all sense of time) are an absolute blur. They’re aware of a voice shouting, thought they sound like they’re underwater, even though there’re right next to them. Hands tug at their clothing, pulling off their sweatshirt, and in their fevered dreams, vultures peck away at them, and they’re unable to fight off the vicious birds. Cold, damp rags are laid across their forehead and over their chest and stomach, and to them, they’re trapped in the deepest ocean, and seaweed wraps around them and chokes the life out of them.

And the shakes - god, the shakes are unlike anything they’ve ever felt. Great, rolling earthquakes of chills from their core that rattle their bones and teeth so hard they’re scared they’ll break. At times, it seems the only thing keeping them together is the warm arms that hold them tight and the gentle whisper of comforting words in their ear.

When A surfaces from the dark hell they’ve been trapped in, they realize they’re still in B’s bed, covered in piles of blankets. D hovers next to them, fiddling with a small orange bottle, and the night table has been filled with all sorts of medical paraphernalia - medicine bottles, a nebulizer, a stethoscope and box of tissues. Perks of living with a doctor, they think, but they’re too drained to poke fun at B about it.

They’re acutely aware of feeling worse than they had earlier. Everything aches - their arms, their legs, their back and shoulders, especially their chest, and even shifting in bed is painful. Not to mention that they’re still freezing, and they can’t take a deep breath.

“What….happened?” They rasp, coughing between each word.

“Hon, you’ve got pneumonia.” D slides onto the bed next to them, pushing A’s hair back off their forehead to feel their fever. “How long were you feeling this bad?”

A shrugs. “Couple days.” D gives them a pointed look, but doesn’t push further. Instead, they pop open the small bottle and tap two pills into their hand.

“Take these,” D says. “B called me at the hospital freaking out, and we were able to chat with the doctors and get some antibiotics to pump into you for the next few days.”

A’s too tired to respond to that, so they just oblige as D slips the bitter medicine under their tongue, then props their head up so they can sip some water to chase them. As they sit up, the blankets slip from their shoulders and allow the cool air of the room underneath, setting off another round of shivers that send them clutching at the covers. D hurriedly tucks A back in, gently rubbing at their shoulders.

“Shhhh, you’re alright. You’re okay.” The chills seize their body for what feels like an hour, but finally, A stops shivering enough to ask the question on their brain.

“B, how’s B?”

“Fine. We still think they’ve got a bad cold, but they shouldn’t get nearly as bad as you if we take care of them.” D smiles sadly, gazing up at the ceiling. “They’re in your room - we didn’t want to move you.”

As if on cue, B pokes their head in the door, blanket wrapped around their shoulders. A’s awake enough to see them lean against the door, exhausted from their own illness.

“B, I thought I told you to stay-“

“Is A okay?” B asks it in that crackly, worn out voice of theirs.

D glances back at A. “Still pretty sick. But we’ve got some medicine in them now. Once C gets back with the rest of the prescription, I think we’ll be out of the woods.”

B nods, coughing into their own elbow. “Sorry you’re sick, A.”

A nods, stifling a coughing fit of their own, cinching the covers up to their chin. In that moment, B darts back into the room, carefully settling on the bed next to A while D’a back is turned. When D sees it, they exhale and roll their eyes at B’s clinginess. “B, you need rest. Go back to-“

“Can’t I stay here? Just for a little bit?” B’s voice is pleading, and they nestle closer and rest their head ever so gently near A’s stomach.

D finally relents. “A few minutes. But only until their nebulizer treatment’s done. You push it, and you’ll end up like A here.”

B nods, sneaking under one of A’s many blankets and wrapping an arm around A’s waist. D fiddles with something on the nightstand and turns around with the mask of the nebulizer in their hand, then gently eases it over A’s face.

“There. That’ll help your breathing a bit.” D rubs their hands together and surveys the room, and with every breath of the medicine A wants nothing more than to throw their arms around D and thank them for helping them be able to breathe better. But D leaves to go get something else, and B curls closer, pressing themselves into A’s side like they’re scared they’ll fade away.

“Don’t you ever sacrifice yourself like that again, okay?” B’s voice is shaky, and they gently rub A’s side.

A nods weakly, letting their tired eyes fall shut. They wish they could pull B close, but they can’t bring themselves to pull their arms out from under the warmth of the covers. So instead, they just roll toward B and hope they get the message. And from the way B hugs them tighter, A thinks they do.

348 notes View Post

lillcarolyn

2 months ago