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Ranboo was sick. Really sick. It was the third day of their illness, and they could barely move without their ribs burning. Every breath they took led to a crackling in their chest, a pressure building in their lungs until they explode into coughs so violent that their nose runs and tears threaten to spill from their tired eyes.
They lie in their bed, curled on their side and trying to rest when Charlie enters the room.
“Hey, Ranboo… Are you feeling any better today?” Charlie asks softly, placing the back of his hand on Ranboo’s forehead. Ranboo leans into the cool touch as they pitifully shake their head
As Charlie’s hand pulls away, Ranboo starts to cough again. It’s violent and painful, and Ranboo’s gripping their ribs from the sting.
“Hey, hey, Ran, sit up, cmon,” Charlie says, placing his hand on Ranboo’s back and carefully guiding him to sit up.
“Charlie,” Ranboo whines once they’ve finished coughing. “It hurts.” They lean against Charlie’s chest, desperate for some form of comfort.
“I know bud. I know. Stay here, I’m gonna get you a drink.” Charlie says, gently running a hand through Ranboo’s hair before rushing out of the room.
Ranboo’s certain the sickness is getting to their mind, because they immediately feel worse when Charlie’s out of their line of sight for the thirty seconds it takes him to run to the kitchen and back.
“I got you a Gatorade,” Charlie says, handing it to Ranboo.
Ranboo drinks from the bottle with both hands, the way a young child would. Charlie raises an eyebrow at this, but Ranboo doesn’t get a chance to notice, prevented by their descent into a coughing fit from drinking too fast.
As soon as Ranboo starts coughing, Charlie takes the Gatorade and sets it on the nightstand so that it won’t spill. He places his hand on Ranboo’s back, gently rubbing it in an attempt to soothe Ranboo any way he can. This time, when the coughing fit ends, Ranboo doesn’t bother to speak. They just whine and bury their face in Charlie’s chest.
“Oh, Ran…” Charlie moves away a little but is immediately pulled back in by Ranboo wrapping their arms around him.
“Stay,” Ranboo begs quietly, muffled by Charlie’s t-shirt.
“I’m not leaving yet, bud, I was just gonna give your drink back to you,” Charlie says. Ranboo loosens their hold just enough so that Charlie can reach the Gatorade again. “Here you go, drink a little slower this time.”
Ranboo takes Charlie’s advice, carefully monitoring themself to make sure they won’t break into coughs again as they drink. Once their thirst has been satisfied, they shuffle back a little in the bed to place the Gatorade on the nightstand.
“Is there anything else you need, Ranboo?” Charlie asks, fiddling with Ranboo’s hair again.
Ranboo shakes their head, and Charlie starts to leave but is quickly stopped by Ranboo’s hand wrapping around his arm.
Charlie looks back, raising his eyebrow. “You good?”
Ranboo silently tugs on Charlie’s arm in response.
“You… still want me to stay? Is that it?”
Ranboo nods, moving to make room on the bed and then making grabby hands up at Charlie. Charlie’s face softens in realization.
“Oh, Ran…How old are you feeling right now kiddo?” Charlie kneels next to the bed as he asks.
Ranboo holds up three fingers, looking at Charlie with doe eyes, before quickly dropping down to two fingers.
“Aww, you’re just a little thing, aren’t you?”
Ranboo nods meekly.
“Alright, you want cuddles, bud?”
“Mm-hm,” Ranboo replies, digging through his bed for his favourite plushie, an old Garfield from years and years ago.
Charlie climbs into the bed and gently wraps his arms around them, letting Ranboo bury themself into his chest as the pair lie down.
Another set of coughs tears through Ranboo’s respiratory system. They’re shaking in Charlie’s hold afterwards. “P-Papa…” Ranboo whines.
Charlie freezes for a moment. He’s been Ranboo’s caregiver for a little while now, but this was the first time Ranboo had called him something other than Charlie. “I’m right here, kiddo. Papa’s here.” Charlie tries to comfort Ranboo while also attempting to hide the warmth growing in his chest from being called Papa. Or, well, he thinks it’s from being called Papa. It could very well be him becoming infected with Ranboo’s sickness.
Ranboo’s eyes suddenly widen, and they push away from Charlie when they realize they called him Papa. “Sowwy. ‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to” They mumble.
“Oh, Ran, what’s wrong? What are you sorry for?” Charlie asks loosening his arms and letting Ranboo push away.
“Called you…Papa. Didn’ mean to. Was an absident.” Ranboo hides their face behind their Garfield plushie.
“Oh, kiddo, that’s okay! You can call me Papa if you want to, I don’t mind.” Charlie places his hand on Ranboos cheek, softly dragging his thumb along it.
“Really?” Ranboo asks, pulling their stuffie down a little, just enough so that they can see Charlie’s face.
“Really. It’s nice, honestly.”
Ranboo smiles a bit, for the first time since he came down with this sickness. “Papa!” He giggles, wrapping his arms around Charlie.
“Hi, kiddo,” Charlie says with a smile.
“Papa! Papa, Papa!”
“Ran, do you need something, or are you just excited to call me Papa?” He chuckles.
“Jus’ excited” Ranboo replies, squeezing Charlie.
Charlie ruffles Ranboo’s hair. “I’m glad you’re excited, but you should get some rest, bud.”
Ranboo curls into Charlie happily. “Okay, Papa.” They say, as their eyes flutter shut and they begin to drift off
—————————
When Ranboo wakes up, they’re feeling bigger, mostly out of littlespace, but they still don’t feel good . They try to ignore the feeling in their stomach, opting instead to curl back into Charlie, who had fallen asleep too, yet something still feels wrong.
Ranboo shifts around a bit, hoping it’s just an issue of lying down the wrong way, but the feeling doesn’t go away. The feeling doesn’t make sense to Ranboo until he feels saliva start to pool in his mouth.
Within seconds, he’s throwing himself out of the bed and rushing down the hall towards the washroom. He’s vaguely aware of Charlie waking up behind him, but he doesn’t have time to think about that.
Ranboo collapses to his knees in front of the toilet, clearing his stomach of anything he’d ingested. He takes a second to breathe before he opens his eyes, catching a glimpse of his own sick. It was red.
Why is it red? Is that blood? Oh, God, I’m dying, I need to go to the hospital . Ranboo panics. He pushes away from the toilet and tries to catch his breath, but he just ends up hyperventilating. He manages to choke out a call for Charlie before descending into sobs.
Charlie rushes into the room. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?” He asks, unable to mask the panic in his voice.
“I’m dying! The- There’s blood, I’m dying!” Ranboo wails.
“Woah, it’s okay, breathe, Ran. You’re not dying. You’ll be alright. What blood?” Charlie kneels in front of where Ranboo is sitting.
“The— I threw up, and- and there’s blood-“ Ranboo cries, throwing his arms around Charlie and sobbing into his shoulder.
It’s a little gross, but Charlie cranes his neck to try and get a view of the vomit. As soon as he sees it, he relaxes a little. For a horror creator, Ranboo was really bad at identifying blood.
“Ran, it’s okay, that’s not blood, you’re gonna be fine,” Charlie assures.
“But- It’s red, why else would it be red?”
“Dude, you haven’t had anything to eat or drink today besides Gatorade.”
“Oh.”
Charlie gives a soft chuckle, and pulls Ranboo back into a hug, gently rubbing their back.
“Was scared…” Ranboo mumbles, starting to slip back into littlespace.
“I know, bud. It’s okay. C'mon, let’s get you some real food.” Charlie stands up and holds out a hand to pull Ranboo up. It’s a bit awkward, considering that Ranboo is taller than him, but they make it work.
Ranboo sits at the kitchen counter, resting their head on the cool surface as Charlie starts to heat some canned soup.
“Here, try to eat slowly, bud,” Charlie says, gently lifting Ranboos chin and placing the bowl down in front of them.
“Okay, Papa,” Ranboo mumbles.
“Oh, you feeling small again?”
Ranboo nods delicately
“How old we feeling, kiddo?”
Ranboo thinks for a moment before they reply. “Think ‘m five.”
“Oh, wow! We've got a big kid on our hands, huh?” Charlie ruffles Ranboo's hair, causing them to let out a soft giggle. “Here, once you've finished your soup, why don't we get you set up with some cartoons?”
“Garfiel’?”
“Yeah bud, you can watch Garfield.”
Ranboo eats their soup as fast as they can without getting sick, clearly excited by the promise of watching Garfield.
“Ranboo, remember bud, slow bites.” Charlie corrects gently. He really doesn’t need Ranboo breaking into another coughing fit. Or worse, throwing up again.
Once Ranboo’s finished their food, he and Charlie head to the living room together. Ranboo sits down criss-cross on the couch as Charlie grabs a blanket and turns on Garfield and Friends.
Charlie sits down next to Ranboo, who moves closer, curling into his side. In response, Charlie moves his hand into Ranboo’s hair and gently runs his fingers through the soft stands. After a few episodes, Ranboo’s eyes flutter shut again, soothed to sleep from the soul and Charlie’s comfort.
The next day, Ranboo will have recovered from their illness, and will likely be back to their energetic, healthy self. Yet, for now, they’re a sick little kid. However, they don’t think they mind it too much if it means Charlie will be there with them, nursing them back to health.