Down With The Sickness

Everything hurt right now: from his head down to his legs, he was aching so bad.

Locke opened his eyes and stared down his ceiling, before furrowing his brows and squinting his eyes at it. It took him a minute, but he finally realised why he was so confused. That wasn’t his ceiling.

He shot up at the revelation, looking around worriedly as he tried to piece everything together in his mind. His throat felt like he’d been screaming for years long, and oh god, where was he?

He stopped mid-panic as he saw, collected in a clump on the floor, his three closest friends — fast asleep in a hastily made pillow fort. Tucked under his arm was a beanie baby and one of Injury’s favourite teddies, and draped over him was multiple different blankets. This made him more confused, as he scratched his chin slightly. Really, what did he do last night?

He took another look around the living room, noticing a familiar shopping cart covered in pillows and blankets, and the surroundings full of small trinkets and such other things. He knew this apartment.

“Oh, you’re awake?”

He turned his head to see Dizzy standing there, holding a drink in her hands. He hadn’t talked much to Dizzy, but from everything Worse said, they seemed very nice. Without hesitation, he opened his mouth to speak, but found that he couldn’t make a single noise.

“Hey, don’t strain yourself,” She spoke softly, yet sternly, “Your mom said this would happen.”

Locke opened his mouth instantly, forgetting he couldn’t speak at all, before clenching his jaw shut with a huff. Great, he lightly smacked his palm into his forehead, I can’t get a fucking word out.

“Here,” Dizzy handed him the drink, “You need to take care of yourself better.”

Locke took the mug, rolling his eyes with a smile. He was very sure he took fine enough care of himself, though he was mostly lying to himself at that point. He took a sip of the mystery drink, taking a moment to try and figure out what he’d just tasted. He liked it, but his drink palette was minuscule nowadays, and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“It’s green tea and honey,” Dizzy answered the unasked question, “It’s really good for your throat, and general health.”

Locke nodded to show he was listening, taking a moment to raise the mug and stick up his thumb. He already missed being able to speak, it was like someone pressed the mute button or something. At work it was different, because he can talk when he gets home. He huffed again.

Taking a few more sips of the tea, he made a plan to carefully get up off of their sofa. Him and sofas, what was it? He was more than sure he’d refuse to take any beds these two might have. He carefully avoided the clump on the floor that was his friends, making sure to not disturb them.

“They were up most of the night, worrying about you,” Dizzy hummed, “They really like you.”

Locke looked down at them and smiled, shrugging slightly to Dizzy as a way of trying to communicate that he didn’t know why they did, but he was glad they did. I can be a proper cunt, he thought as he took one final step out of their pillow fort, but they seem to like that.

“Oh trust me, Worse talks about you guys tons. All three of you.”

Locke smiled a little more, before looking around hurriedly. With just his shirt and jeans, he oddly felt quite naked, which was weird because he was the exact opposite of that — but it was his jacket he was missing. He hardly ever left without that jacket, and god, he couldn’t remember where he even went too last night.

“You apparently left your jacket in your apartment, if that’s what you’re looking for. Worse tried to go back to get it, but I was not letting them argue with your roommates again.”

Locke tilted his head, folding his arms in question, to which Dizzy sighed and looked at Worse, who was peacefully sleeping.

“Apparently while going to look for you, Channel was being rude,” She sighed, “I hate your roommates too, but I don’t think Worse should be fighting with them.”

Locke paused for a minute, his resting pissed off expression returning to his face as Dizzy explained. For a few, he just stood there, fingers digging into his arms in anger. He was all fine with them being rude to him, it had been years and his skin was tougher than steel — but to be rude to his friends, with Injury around too, it infuriated him.

He started walking towards the door out of the apartment, only being stopped when Dizzy stood in front of him, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Locke aggressively pointed at the door, then gestured to his friends. Dizzy crossed their arms.

“Oh no, I know that look,” The stern tone was back, “You’re staying here until we can be sure you’re at least somewhat better, and after last night that’s not now.”

Locke huffed once again, grabbing onto the bridge of his nose for a minute before hesitantly accepting the terms. He didn’t have a choice, his other friends would probably bite him if he tried anything now. Soon though, Channel is a dead man.

He stopped brooding to try and ask the obvious question in the room, what even did happen last night. It took Dizzy a while to figure out what he was trying to ask, but once they did they let out a small laugh.

“If you really do want to know, here’s what I know. Apparently, they found you on the roof…”

—

Dizzy’s head perked up as she heard the front door being opened, “Worse? Is that you, love?”

“No.”

Dizzy knew the voice instantly, and they finally took a moment to leave the kitchen. Stood there was Injury, holding their toy close to their chest as they stood there, “Injury? Is everything ok?”

“Locke is ill.”

“Is he ok?” Dizzy asked, slowly making their way to Injury.

Before Injury could say anything else, Worse and Lost finally got to the door, carrying in Locke.

“Dizzy!” Worse cried out, like Dizzy wasn’t less than a meter away, “Locke is staying with us! He’s sick!”

“Worse,” Dizzy spoke sternly, annoyed at the ruckus caused, “I’m sure he’ll be ok.”

“But we found him on the roof!” If Worse could be jumping around and off the walls right now, it probably would’ve been, “I’m worried because he doesn’t seem all there, he’s practically incoherent! I mean, yeah, he can speak here and there but! Look at him!”

Locke was humming a song to himself, looking down at the floor as he did and generally seeming like he was quite far away. Had they not specified that he was sick, Dizzy might have just assumed something else. Their annoyance at the ruckus quickly became worry.

“Bring him to the couch.”

The two carrying him did so, placing him down as he continued to hum, and it seemed under his breath he’d even started to sing a little. They still couldn’t figure out what song he was performing.

“Injury, Lost, can you watch him for a second?” Dizzy asked politely, to which the two nodded in unison.

“What about me?” Worse asked, “Don’t I need to as well?”

“We need to talk in the kitchen.”

Worse agreed, and once the two were in the kitchen, Dizzy started making food and tea. Worse tried to help, but was denied.

“Tell me everything you know.”

“Well, remember when Lost knocked on our door this morning?” Worse was vaguely pacing, chewing slightly on its knuckle, “Well, when we went to his apartment to try and find clues, his roommates were no help — and I was this close to punching that dumb robot —“

“Did you fight with them?” Dizzy interrupted, and Worse froze and went quiet, “Did you?”

“I maybe got a little passive aggressive but —“

Dizzy sighed hard, “That’s dangerous! What if you had gotten hurt!”

“They were being rude to him! Locke could’ve been hurt! I couldn’t stand hearing them be rude to him!”

Dizzy sighed again, “Don’t do it again, Worse. I don’t want you getting hurt, even if it’s for your friends. Especially for your friends!”

The two were quiet for a bit, before Dizzy went back to making food and drinks, “So what then?”

“Well, on a whim we went to the roof because Lost said that he might be there, and luckily he was, just laying there all out of it. And now we’re here.”

Dizzy nodded, showing she had been listening before turning around and handing Worse a large plate of crackers and cheese, “You all need something to eat and drink, especially Locke. He needs to get this out of his system, whatever it is.”

The two walked back to the living room, seeing that Locke had stood up and started walking — or more correctly, wobbling — around the living room. Lost was following him closely, going to catch him if he stumbled too much.

“We tried to get him to stay on couch.” Injury spoke, swinging around their stuffed toy, “But he said he had to stand.”

After corralling Locke back to the couch, the four of them ate while Dizzy watched over them. Half way through a cracker, Locke stopped, stared at the wall, and then brought out his phone from his back pocket.

“Is everything ok?” Dizzy asked, and he turned to her.

“Can y’talk to me mum?” He asked, handing her the phone, “Jus’ say you’re me friend, ‘nd tell ‘er the issues. She’ll be able t’help ya’ out in case ya need to watch over me.”

Dizzy paused, but politely took the phone. It was already on his mum’s number, so all they had to do was press the call button. It took her a second, but she did it in the end. It rang once, catching everyone’s attention, and then rang again.

“‘Ello sweetheart!” Came the jolly voice of Locke’s mum, and it made him smile as he kept eating.

“Oh, uhm, very sorry miss, but I’m actually one of Locke’s friends.”

His mum paused, “Is he a’wright?”

“He’s been brought to my apartment seeming sick, and he said you’d know what it is?”

“Oh, my lil’ idiot. Wha’s the symptoms, luv?”

“He’s in and out of coherency, uh…”

“Cough.” Injury added in, loud enough to be heard on the phone.

“High temperature!” Worse yelled.

“Ok, it sounds like he’s got’ infection,” His mum laughed a little, “He’ll be ok, the big numpty. Tomorrow he’ll most likely lose ‘is voice, infections spread quick through ‘im, but it should be gone in days.”

“Is there anything we should do?“ Dizzy asked.

“Keep ‘im snuggled up, if you ‘ave any painkillers or antibiotics those work a charm but if not, don’t worry. If he acts weird, just wait a bit an’ he should be fine a bit after. Then it’s just food an’ water.”

“Thank you so much, miss, uhm…”

“You can jus’ call me Chell! No formalities needed for me, luvs! Locke is lucky to have you all. Now, I’ve gotta pop off, feel free to call if you need anything, sweets!”

After the call, the four humoured Locke when he acted weird. He would keep singing and attempting to dance, which Injury would often join in with. It wasn’t very good dancing, but not far after, he would just sit down and go silent. Other times, he’d say things that didn’t make much sense, due to a mix of slang and mumbling.

It wasn’t long after that before he simply passed out, and the four snuggled him up the best they could. Worse refused to leave his side, which Injury copied. Lost seemed to enjoy being around, so Dizzy invited them all to stay. They made a blanket fort on the floor near the couch, with teddies and pillows. It was a good fort.

Injury quickly fell asleep, cuddled up to Lost who also fell asleep shortly after. Dizzy was ready to call it a night, tired from helping look after the four before Worse grabbed their hand.

“Look after yourself too, ok?”

“Of course.”

—

During the conversation, Dizzy had made Locke some toast, which he slowly ate while being told the story. At multiple points, he grimaced at his own actions, and at one point he had his head in his hands.

“If it helps, I think you’re more coherent now.”

I think I’m fully coherent now, Locke rolled his eyes, taking another large bite of his toast, god I sound like an idiot. At least the toast was good.

The two sat in silence for a bit, looking around the kitchen to enjoy the scenery. It was a lot cleaner, and better, than his own. The herbs on the window, the bar stools by the counters, it was a nice space to eat, and chill out. During his looking around, Locke hardly noticed that Dizzy seemed a little anxious, vaguely covering the right side of their jaw. He wasn’t one to push nor prod, and he knew what it was like, since he didn’t much like people seeing his hands. The silence between the two was nice.

“You know,” Dizzy finally spoke up, smiling a little, “I used to think you were intimidating.”

Locke stopped eating for a minute, slightly taken aback. He put his finger to his chest, brows furrowed but smiling at the notion. How could anyone be intimidated by him? He took a moment to think, and realised that it was actually quite fair, really.

“I don’t think we’ve properly talked, and you do have a certain…” Dizzy vaguely gestured to him, “Air about you.”

Locke nodded, and used his limited knowledge of sign language to actually try to communicate: a quick, but genuine sorry. He’d give a better explanation if he could, but he didn’t exactly have a voice right now. Dizzy smiled, waving off the apology and then getting back to eating her own breakfast.