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Gillion’s entire body shuddered, his shoulders heaving with the coughs that shook his entire body. He leaned against the railing of the ship, his hand up to his mouth, and was barely able to catch his breath before another fit caused him to double over. A spark of static flickered off the crown of coral wrapped around his head and he winced.
His lungs burned with each forced inhale and his mouth felt dry (an uncomfortable feeling). Gillion dug his claws into the wood of the Albatross, a low gurgle bubbling up from the back of his throat. Even that hurt like tiny knives were digging into his gills, he didn’t even want to know what it would be like to speak. A particularly large wave caused the ship to lurch and Gillion swayed dangerously with the rocking. His stomach churned and he coughed again.
He must have gotten sick from the last island they had gone to since he always seemed to get a small cough like this whenever they stopped at an island for supplies. Gillion’s lungs did not enjoy the oversea air and every time they went to someplace different from the salty wind of the ocean, they (his lungs) liked to complain.
It had started a bit earlier that day when he had been helping Chip with the sails. It was just a small itch in the back of his throat and a tightness in his chest that caused him to cough. It wasn’t supposed to be this bad. Technically it wasn’t that bad, Gillion would get over it. His voice had started to go hoarse a few hours ago as all he had been doing was coughing his throat raw.
Gillion was under the assumption that going above deck for some fresh air would help, however, all it seemed to be doing was making him cough more. The salty air that he inhaled burned with each breath and he could feel his gills flexing along his neck.
He tugged at the fabric of his shirt, pulling it away from his chest as if that would help the tightness and pain. His lungs rattled and he wanted nothing more than to sink to the bottom of the ocean where he knew that just taking a breath wouldn’t hurt him. But he figured that would make Chip and Jay worry, especially since the sun was beginning to set. His disappearance would—unfortunately—cause some stir. At least, that’s what Gillion assumed (hoped).
Another fit of coughs wracked his body and Gillion let out a mournful sound, covering his mouth as he gagged. Everything hurt from the strain of his illness. He had been so busy focusing on trying to find some way to breathe properly, that he didn’t notice the door to below decks opening and footsteps approaching.
“Gill, are you alright?” Jay asked from a few feet away, her boots thumped against the wooden deck as she walked up to him. Gillion didn’t respond, clutching a hand against his chest and focusing on breathing in and out. Jay put a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey.”
Gillion flinched and looked up, a wheezing cough tearing itself from his throat. Jay furrowed her eyebrows sympathetically, a gust of wind blowing her bangs in front of her face.
“Sorry…” he gasped out, throat aching. His voice was painfully hoarse and Gillion turned his head away from her to collect himself. He pulled away and did his best to stand up straight, just the effort of the movement causing exhaustion to weigh heavily on his bones.
“You don’t need to apologize,” she reassured, saddling up next to him at the railing, “that cough sounds like it hurts.”
Gillion just nodded hesitantly, looking back out at the water. He shivered and ran his fingers through his bangs.
“It’s… just another… small…” Gillion paused, puffing out his cheeks, “... a small cough.” Even talking hurt, Gillion really was starting to think that he could never get a break from these types of aches and pains. One day it would be his knees, then his hips. And now his throat burned with every breath and word he spoke, his lungs would barely even hold half an inhale of air. He told himself he had no right to complain, after all, it could’ve been worse.
Gillion scrubbed at his face, his fingers trailing over the reflective scales on his cheeks and he stuttered out a sigh. Which devolved into a small, strangled cough as he tried to muffle it.
“I could hear you hacking up a lung from below decks,” Jay said, “it doesn’t sound like just a small cough.”
Gillion’s cheeks flushed a darker shade of blue and he looked away, Jay put her hand back on his arm and squeezed gently, “it’s okay, everybody gets sick sometimes.”
She seemed to leave out the fact that Gillion always seemed to be getting sick, whether it was some cough he picked up on islands or nausea from the rocking of the boat. There was always something that plagued him.
He should learn by now how to deal with these things. He should know how to take care of himself on his own without relying on Chip or Jay. They didn’t deserve his burdens whenever he was feeling a bit under the weather. Gillion frowned, his sharp teeth poking out from behind blue lips.
“I am… alright,” he wheezed, holding his breath for a few seconds like that might possibly help.
It didn’t. He just spilled into another cough, leaning against the railing to keep himself balanced as he choked. Jay squeezed his arm a bit tighter, holding him steady as well. Gillion brought his hand up to his throat, covering his gills to do his best to keep them from flaring involuntarily. His luck, tonight would be the night he inhaled air through his gills again.
When he was finished coughing and was finally able to catch his breath somewhat, Jay just gave a small sigh.
“I’m thinking an early night in tonight,” Jay said, glancing out at the horizon and the moon that was just beginning to peek above the waves, “I think we all could use some good rest.”
“I will… take first watch…” Gillion began to insist his voice cracking painfully, but he slowly trailed off as he noticed Jay glaring at him. He coughed into his fist, wincing at the strain on his throat.
“You’re going to get some well-needed sleep,” Jay insisted, “rest your voice, rest yourself and get yourself not sick.”
Gillion clenched his jaw and looked away from Jay, a deeper frown tugged at the corners of his lips. Jay traced light shapes onto his arm with the pads of her fingers.
“I am—”
Jay looked like she was going to cut him off and protest, but she didn’t even get the chance to before Gillion had fallen into another coughing fit. He gripped Jay’s arm, ducking his head as he shook. His shoulders heaved with the effort it took and he could barely catch his breath long enough to prevent black splotches from blotting his vision.
His chest burned with each cough that shook his form and he could feel small tears welling in the corners of his eye as he struggled to breathe. Jay rubbed his back, sliding her hand up and down in a comforting motion, her fingers trailing circles into his skin.
He almost gagged again, managing to finally catch his breath after a minute or so of relentless coughs that violently tore themselves from his throat.
“You okay?” Jay asked after a few seconds, wrapping her arm around his shoulder as he continued to tremble.
“My…” his throat hurt and his voice was barely louder than a whisper, “my… ap-apologies.”
Jay grimaced as well, “it’s alright, Gill. You don’t need to apologize for those kinds of things.”
Gillion just nodded silently as a moment of silence fell between the two, only interrupted by Gillion’s pained wheezes.
“Come on,” Jay said after a few seconds, “Let’s get ready for bed.”
Relenting to his fate and with a throat too sore to properly protest, Gillion let Jay slide her hand down his arm, slipping her hand into his. She began to pull him down towards the lower deck, knowing that Alphonse could take watch for the night considering he didn’t sleep. Gillion stumbled, a few coughs slipping out of his mouth that he tried to swallow down. Jay just squeezed his hand reassuringly.
Chip was in the sleeping quarters when they entered. He was reclined in his hammock, his arms crossed behind his head like a makeshift pillow. He looked up when he heard the door creak open.
“Heard you coughing, Gill,” Chip commented, tilting his head to the side, “you alright?”
So he truly had done the poorest job he could have possibly done at hiding it. Gillion just shrugged and chewed on the inside of the mouth, sitting down on the edge of his cot.
“His voice is going,” Jay said, stretching her arms above her head.
“Ah,” Chip clicked his tongue. Gillion’s cheeks flushed a darker shade of blue and his ears drooped ashamedly. He rubbed his chest and puffed out his cheeks to swallow down another coughing fit that threatened to surface.
“I’m thinking we get to bed earlier tonight,” Jay insisted, reaching up to tug at the ribbon that held her hair in a ponytail. The red strands cascaded down her shoulder as she pulled the strip of ribbon free, wrapping it around her wrist and tying it off.
“No complaints from me,” Chip said, crossing his one leg over the other.
“You’ll fall out of the hammock if you sleep there tonight,” Jay warned, rooting around to find a shirt (Chip’s) that she could sleep in. She grabbed a white cotton shirt from somewhere in the room that was definitely not Chip’s corner. Considering that Jay would never steal one of his shirts or anything of the sort. Chip glared at her as she changed into the shirt, once again stretching her arms above her head.
The collar of the shirt hung off her pale shoulders, exposing her collarbone and neck as she sat down on the edge of her cot. Chip’s eyes trailed over the patch of freckled skin, shaking his head to pull his attention away after a few seconds of blatant staring. Jay gave a huff of amusement and brought her hand up to her mouth to muffle the light chuckles.
Gillion had taken his shirt off as well, in his theory, it would possibly help with the ache that rooted deep in his lungs or help with the tightness in his chest. In the end, it didn’t really do much, but Gillion would like to believe that it did. He winced and made a pained gurgling noise from the back of his throat causing Jay to look up worriedly.
Jay didn’t say anything, so neither did Gillion.
They settled pretty easily into a silent nightly routine. Jay brushed her hair, her other hand pressed to her head to keep the tangles and knots from hurting too badly. Gillion changed clothes into something that would hopefully feel better for sleeping out of the water (since he feared of coughing or choking in his barrel). And Chip paced the room to both get some unresolved energy out and to look for something to wear to bed as well.
Gillion said nothing, his throat was permanently stinging now, no matter what he did. He fell into coughing fits a few times that left him shaky and gasping for breath (the shuddered breath in which triggered another wave of coughing).
Just before they could have gone to bed, Gillion was hit with the sudden realization of what he had forgotten to do tonight. The Triton sat up quickly, his fins flaring out around his face before immediately pinning back due to the pain in his throat.
“Caspian,” Gillion croaked out, accented with a cough.
“What about Caspian?” Jay asked, furrowing her eyebrows.
Gillion stood up, going over to his chest of items and digging around for the conch shell. Pulling out the item seemed to give Jay a good enough answer to what he needed.
“Gill, you’re losing your voice, how are you going to talk to Caspian?” Jay reasoned, “you should just rest for tonight, you could call him tomorrow.”
Gillion shook his head, “I promised.” He wasn’t even sure if Jay could hear him from where he was standing. He clutched the conch shell in his hands like it was the most precious thing in the world.
“Why don’t you call him and we all talk to Caspian?” Chip suggested, laying back in his hammock with his arms crossed, “That way Gillion doesn’t have to strain his voice as much.”
Gillion sighed once more defeatedly. He moved to sit next to Jay on her cot. Jay could tell he wasn’t that fond of this arrangement, but there wasn’t much that could be done when his throat was trying to kill him from the inside out.
Chip dropped down from the hammock, rummaging through his chest of items for a second while Gillion tried the call. He closed his eyes, focusing his magic into directing it towards the right conch shell as they waited for Caspian to pick up. Chip came over to the bed, handing Gillion a leather-bound notebook along with an ink pen.
“You try writing stuff down and we’ll say it for you,” Chip suggested, “if you want, you could also just strain your voice as well.”
Gillion frowned but took the book, watching as Chip sat on the other side of Jay.
There was a crackle from the conch shell and Gillion figured he might have woken Caspian up. How early did they usually go to bed? Gillion didn’t remember. But soon enough, there was a buzz and what sounded like a click as Caspian accepted the call.
“Ah, Gillion!” Came Caspian’s smooth voice through the mouth of the shell, he sounded excited and not very groggy considering all the other times that Gillion had woken him up, “I was wondering when you’d call since it is getting quite late! I have been looking forward to the chance to talk to you—”
“Hello, Caspian!” Chip cut him off just to make sure that Caspian didn’t accidentally say something only meant for Gillion. Chip leaned against Jay’s shoulder as they listened to the small beat of silence coming from the other line.
“Hello, Chip?” Caspian responded, confusion lacing his tone, “Is Gillion not there?”
“Gill lost his voice,” Jay said and Gillion looked down at his lap ashamedly, “But he insisted on calling.”
Gillion brought his hand up to his mouth, trying his best to muffle the coughs that wracked his body. Caspian clicked his tongue and gave a disapproving sigh.
“That’s no good,” he said and Gillion could practically imagine the face he had, “Gillion, truly you must be resting if you are under the weather. But… I appreciate you wanting to call anyway.”
Gillion swallowed thickly, opening his mouth to say something before closing it again. He opened his mouth, closed it, looked towards the notebook and pen in his lap, and looked back up to the conch. Clutching the notebook in his lap, he gripped the pen tightly, struggling to hold it with the webbing between his fingers as he scratched out what he wanted to say.
Jay read it out loud, squinting to try and read his handwriting, “he says that he couldn’t bear to miss one of your nightly calls.”
Caspian chuckled, “I am flattered.”
Another beat of silence, “Gillion, you’ve been practicing the things I showed you? I presume not now if you are not well, but how has that been going?”
The end of Gillion’s tail hit against the mattress of Jay’s cot with a wet thump. He hunched over the notebook, a cough bubbling up in the back of his throat as he wrote his answer.
Jay read it out loud to Caspian who chuckled once more.
They chatted for the duration that the magic lasted, Jay or Chip reading out what Gillion wrote to Caspian who would respond just as enthusiastically like Gillion was truly the one talking. Gillion’s mood seemed to improve somewhat, and besides the coughing fit that he went through mid-call that got even Caspian worried, it went smoothly.
Afterward, Gillion slumped against Jay’s side, a content sigh leaving his mouth. He choked weakly on it.
“I am definitely ready for bed now,” Chip admitted with a yawn, standing up and offering Gillion his hand. The Triton took it and let Chip pull him up to his feet.
Jay nodded in agreement, rubbing her eyes. She shimmied herself underneath the covers of her cot as she watched the boys situate themselves.
Gillion laid on top of his blankets, shivering and shuddering as his fins seemed to almost tremble. He coughed and curled in on himself tighter with a small whimper escaping his mouth.
Chip flopped down relatively unceremoniously onto the blankets, burrowing himself deep within the covers until only the top of his head was visible. He was almost asleep instantly as Jay blew out the lantern, plunging the room into darkness.
Gillion had a hard time sleeping but eventually, he managed to drift off despite the incessant soreness in his throat.