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Flame was sat at his desk, sending a few messages to Lomedy to catch up. He hadn’t seen the guy in a while, so checking in felt right. They had been messaging for a few minutes, sharing stories of their time apart back and forth.
Lomedy whispers to you: i'm gonna hit the hay, talk to you tomorrow?
You whisper to Lomedy: yeah, it was nice catching up
You whisper to Lomedy: stay safe, alright?
Lomedy whispers to you: will do!
Despite himself, Flame allows a grin. Something about finding himself proper teammates - Wemmbu’s crew - seemed to soften him up a fair bit. He set the communicator down, then scanned the desk, pondering on what he had to do and if it needed done immediately. A quiet yet familiar ping disrupted his thoughts. He reached forward, once again grabbing his communicator from the charging corner in his desk. A message from Wemmbu, simply reading “come hre”.
Wemmbu whispers to you: come hre
You whisper to Wemmbu: where, end base? Is everything alright??
Wemmbu whispers to you: teah its safe
Wemmbu whispers to you: minutes and egg are out doing stff
Flame inhaled, then nodded. He reached down, grabbing his bag from beside his table. Egg had made it for him, claiming it would be nice to have something to carry books in- one of Flames new hobbies. He slid the communicator into its own little pocket, grabbed some armor for himself and Ashen, and then he was out the door. The dog was quick to follow, and cooperated enough to slide the armor on.
“C’mon buddy, we gotta go.” Flame mumbled, picking up the pace. Ashen complied, racing alongside Flame now.
The two continued for a while, taking the familiar path to the end portal. Flame was out of breath by the time they arrived, already exhausted from the day before. His fatigue was getting to him, but he continued, making his way down the staircase. Flame turned a corner, and was rather relieved to hear the gentle hum of the end portal.
The drop into the portal felt disgusting, and Flame felt bad for having Ashen go through, but the dog seemed fine once they arrived. Once his organs felt like they settled, the two made their way to the familiar halls of MinuteTech’s home.
“Wemmbu?” He called, turning into the demon’s room. There were signs of life- a messed up bed, papers and maps on the desk, and most importantly, the bathroom light was on. Ashen paused at the door, but Flame wasn’t paying attention to the dog. He stopped moving, and began to hear sniffles. A moment later, a strained sob cut through the air. Flame dropped the bag, then carefully crept towards the door.
“Wemm?” He mumbled, pushing the door. What he got in response was a quiet whimper, and it made sense once he took in the sight before him. Wemmbu was curled on the ground, tail around his legs, head over the toilet bowl. Tears, snot, and some remains of vomit stuck to his face. “Oh, bro, I’m sorry. How long have you been here? How long have you been sick?”
Wemmbu shook his head. “I ‘d’nno.” He gasped out.
Flame frowned, then kneeled down to Wemmbu’s level. “Do you have paper towels in here? Or is it in the kitchen.”
“Kitchen.” He whispered. Flame nodded in response, then turned to leave. Wemmbu wailed. Never would he think he’d cry over FlameFrags leaving him behind, but here he was, sitting on his own bathroom floor, crying cause Flame took one look and decided to leave.
“Woah- woah, woah. Hey. I’ll literally be right back, I just need to get stuff to help you clean.” Flame turned, returning to the bathroom for a short second. “Hang in there.”
Wemmbu blinked once, twice, then nodded. Not leaving, then. Good.
Flame returned only a minute or two later, a small, wet towel in his hands. “Look at me.” He whispered, returning to his kneeling position. Wemmbu turned slowly, cautious of his nausea and pounding head. Flame offered a small smile, then began wiping Wemmbu’s face. He focused on his mouth, making sure there was nothing left there. Once he deemed the job done, he tossed the towel onto the counter. He wiped Wemmbu’s tears with his thumb, again offering a smile.
“What time did you come in here?” Flame asked, lowering himself so he was no longer kneeling, and rather sat on the floor with his back against the counter.
“Uhm, like, midnight?” He blinked. Seemed close enough, especially since he was only able to force himself to sleep roughly an hour before.
“It's- Wemmbu, it’s four, bro.” Flame deadpanned. For four hours, Wemmbu let himself sit here and struggle alone. His voice shifted into something softer. “Why didn’t you message me sooner? I would’ve come earlier, you know this. We’re allies, friends, this is what friends do.”
“Didn’t want- oh god, think I’m gonna throw up again, might wanna leave.” His voice grew strained as he shifted, putting himself back over the toilet. Flame hesitated, but instead of leaving, he carefully pulled all of Wemmbu’s hair away from his face and rubbed his back.
“It’s okay,” He whispered. “Breath, you’ll feel better soon.” The quiet words continued for the next hour. Wemmbu went on and off between quiet words or rather violent sobs and heaves, but Flame stayed for it all. He didn’t know how a person could even get this much out of their body, especially with how frail Wemmbu looked. Once they were sure Wemmbu was done, Flame wiped his face and tears again, then asked for a hair tie.
Wemmbu hardly thought as he loosely offered his wrist, and therefore the hair tie on it. Flame slid it off and over his own hand before instructing Wemmbu to turn. He grabbed the hair, long and purple, and split it into three sections. The next part was mindless, one piece over the next, over and over. He tied it off at the ending, leaving a loose braid in place of the mess it had been only moments before. “There we go.” He took the hair, lightly flipping it over Wemmbu’s shoulder for him to see.
Wemmbu blinked at it, then turned to stare at Flame. “Where’d you learn that?” He wondered, voice hoarse.
“Egg taught me. I had to fix his hair once, ‘cause you were gone and Minute was scared his claws would just ruin Egg’s hair.” Flame shrugged, as if it was a simple thing to be doing.
Wemmbu, on the other hand, nearly broke down for what felt like a millionth time that night. Flame, once the only thing that could bring Wemmbu close to death, was now sitting on his bathroom floor, fixing his hair and offering words of comfort, calling him a friend and taking care of him like he cared. Because Flame did. FlameFrags cared about Wemmbu, and that-
Wemmbu’s thoughts were cut off by a hand reaching forward. He paused, letting Flame reach for his face and clean tears. More tears came at his actions, and he found himself crying, yet again. God, being sick made him a damn wimp.
“Do- Do you want a hug?” Flame whispered. FlameFrags, The Immortal Demon, offering Wemmbu, his once greatest rival, a hug. “I know I’m not great at com- oh.”
Wemmbu fell forward, resting into Flame’s open arms. He didn’t return the gesture, simply leaned against Flame while he rubbed his back and gently scratched at his scalp while he continued to cry, despite trying not to.
“I know you’d come for me if I was sick, so you should expect the same. We’re friends, Wemmbu. We’re not the greatest rivals on the server, neither of us is the strongest, we’re simply two friends.” Flame continued his mini-speech, stressing that he really does care about Wemmbu, and that he can call him whenever. Silence fell over them once Wemmbu nodded, and the two sat on the floor for what felt like hours, but were most likely mere minutes. Wemmbu wrapped his tail around one of Flame’s arms after a few minutes, his own way of returning the embrace.
“Do you want me to message Egg and Minute?” Flame whispered. “They’d know their way around better than I do.”
“Yeah, sure.” Wemmbu shifted, pulling his legs a bit closer to his chest, his knees hitting one of Flames shoulders, the other getting occupied by Wemmbu’s head. He pressed closer, resting his forehead up against Flame’s neck.
Flame nodded. He moved one of his arms just enough to free his fingers. He snapped twice, and suddenly pawsteps echoed in the room as Ashen approached. “Bag.” Flame commanded quietly, pointing to the bag by the door. Ashen complied, backpedalling to grab the handles of his bag to pull it into the room.
Wemmbu reached out, patting the dog's head a few times before Flame told him to lay down in the doorway. Flame pulled his communicator out of one of the pockets, then sent a group message.
End Buddies
Eggchan, FlameFrags MinuteTech, Wemmbu
You whisper to End Buddies: Hey, you two done yet?
MinuteTech whispers to End Buddies: Yeah, just finished up. What’s going on?
You whisper to End Buddies: Wemmbu got sick and I dunno where you guys keep medicine.
MinuteTech whispers to End Buddies: We’re coming.
MinuteTech whispers to End Buddies: He doing okay?
You whisper to End Buddies: Yeah, we’re past the throwing up part and we're in the
emotionally and mentally exhausted part.
You whisper to End Buddies: [Image attached]
(Flame and Wemmbu on the floor, Wemmbu now asleep against his shoulder,
Flame still holding him with one hand.)
MinuteTech whispers to End Buddies: How long have you two been up?
You whisper to End Buddies: He’s been going for about five
You whisper to End Buddies: I’ve been here for an hour and a halfish
Minute stops responding there, so Flame goes back to rubbing Wemmbu’s back and trying to not fall asleep.
It’s about fifteen minutes later that Egg and Minute arrive, filling the house with quiet rustles and panicked voices. Egg found them first, carrying some sort of pills and a bucket. Minute followed close behind, nothing on him.
Flame gave them both a smile, then looked at the man on his lap. Wemmbu was curled in on himself to the best of his abilities, breathing light and soft as he slept. Flame’s arms were resting on his back, rubbing slow, soothing circles in a constant rhythm. Egg sighed, looked at Minute, then down at Flame once again. “You said he’d been up for five hours?”
“I think so. I got here around four, and he said he’d been in here since midnight.” Flame kept his voice low. Waking up Wemmbu is the last thing they need.
Eggs frown gets worse. He thought for a moment, then dropped into a crouch. He inched closer, carefully pushing Wemmbu’s head away from Flame’s neck in order to touch his forehead. Egg very obviously didn’t like what he felt, as his eyes widened and he stared at Wemmbu like he had grown another head. “That fever is bad.” He mumbled, pulling his hand away.
“We should get him into bed then. Think you can carry him?” Minute pointed at the duo on the floor.
Flame hummed. He moved one of his arms, hooking it under Wemmbu’s legs while keeping the other on his back. Getting up seemed to be the hardest part, his body ached from the previous day and the lack of sleep getting to him, but he managed. “In bed?” Flame whispered.
Egg nodded, moving to pull back the covers as Flame set Wemmbu in the middle of the mattress. The three stood there for a second, debating the best course of action. Minute cleared his throat, then set a hand on Flame’s shoulder.
“You’ve been up for a bit, you can sleep in the guest room.” He offered, tail flicking towards the door as he spoke. Flame hummed, but made no attempt to move.
“Let me know when he wakes up, I wanna make sure he’s okay.” Flame mumbled. Egg blinked before a soft grin spread across his face.
“We can do that, you go sleep. Thank you, Flame. Take care, okay? There’s food in the kitchen, but I know you can’t cook well, so I’m sure me and Minute will be up and about if you need good food. Goodnight.” His grin falls into something softer, a gentle smile. He turns away as Flame takes a few steps back, then his footsteps are echoing down the halls. There's a quiet grunt from the bathroom, which freaks both Minute and Egg out, though it’s only Ashen waking up, rushing to follow Flame to bed.
—
Everything hurts. His back aches, his arms feel horribly weak, his head is pounding, and his throat feels like it’s torn to shreds. Wemmbu goes to speak, but all that comes out is a light groan. There's a quiet gasp from somewhere nearby- might even be himself - then a hand is on his forehead, cold and grounding. He pushes forward, doing his best to keep the cool skin against his own. There's a few voices whispering back and forth, but only one stays while the other seems to leave. The cold hand is gone all too quickly, but it doesn’t take long for something to come back into wherever he is and offer a cold towel. Wemmbu sighs, content with the cold.
“Wemmbu?” Someone grunts. The voice sounds familiar, and catches him off guard. He peeks open an eye to confirm his suspicions, and FlameFrags is in fact sitting beside his bed. The sight briefly reminds him of last night- oh god.
“How-” Wemmbu can hardly get a word out before he’s coughing. It hurts, really bad, and brings a stuffy nose with it all.
“Woah- hey, wait until you have some water in you. Your throat is all sorts of messed up from last night.” Flame gently passes a glass to Wemmbu, but he’s too shaky to grab it without spilling. Flame hums, bringing the glass to Wemmbu’s lip instead. He tilts it slowly, stopping once a purple tail lightly taps against his leg. “Good?” A nod.
“What happened?” Wemmbu rasps, moving to sit up more. Flame helps him get there, then sighs.
“You messaged me, I came over, and you had been sick and throwing up for about four hours before I got here. You didn’t really do anything embarrassing, if anything you were a little more clingy but, like, I would be too dude. Throwing up for five hours straight sounds rough.” Flame shrugged, tail flicking with the action.
“Thank you, by the way.” It’s quiet, so quiet Flame hardly heard it, but he can’t help the smile that stretches across his face. He nods in response, then stands.
“I have to head out, got stuff to do at home, but Egg and Minute are still here. I can come over again if I need to, but I’d message them first.” He leans down, grabbing his bag and scooping a half asleep Ashen into his arms. Wemmbu laughs a bit at the way the dog blinks, but he's quick to realize laughing hurts. Flame gives a sympathetic smile, and then he's gone.
He can hear Egg and Minute wishing him well, hear the goodbyes and quiet laughter. It's different from what he knows, in all honesty. He’s used to fights, coming back home to make as many health potions as he can, praying it’ll take the growing ache away.
He’s not used to people taking care of him, laughing as they come and go, just to return the next day. He’s not used to that inevitable return, the day after an attack when they come to check on him. He’s hardly used to getting patched up by gentle hands that aren’t his own. Hell, he’s still scared to act vulnerable around Egg and Minute. His best friend, bordering on brother, and basically his own father.
But maybe, he could learn to accept it. Accept the quiet understanding, the soft hands to help him on days when he can’t do it himself, the return that he knows is coming but doesn’t know how to accept.