The Childrens Rebellion

Sickness

Tommy had to have somehow jinxed it, because when Tubbo broke into his room and woke him up fifteen minutes to debrief, he was told that Purpled had fallen ill.

"What?" he said, grabbing Tubbo's shoulders and shaking the Shulker rapidly. Mellohi yowled, unhappy that she'd been woken up, and proceeded to knead her not-dull claws into his uniform pants. He hissed in pain, pushing the dhi'sk away from him and back onto her sleeping pillow. Because it was hers. He didn't want it anymore.

"Not like that," Tubbo said, extracting himself from Tommy's grip carefully. "It's just a cold."

"Are you—"

"Niki and Ranboo both checked," Tubbo said, rolling his eyes. "He's fine. Just a runny nose and a sore throat. Not even a fever. I was just telling you so you wouldn't wonder why he's wearing a medical mask at debrief."

"What from?" he asked, stretching slightly and getting off the bed, trying to shake off the bad dreams he'd had, full of spiders and betrayal and an Arachnid teenager assuring him that the spiders were friendly and could be trusted even as they bit him from head to toe.

"If you ask me, I'd say the dusty vents," Tubbo said. "It's just a cold. Nobody really knows where those originate from."

Tommy sagged back slightly, blinking his sleep-encrusted eyes. "For a moment there, I thought—"

"Yeah," Tubbo said, wincing. "Perhaps not the best way to tell you. I didn't exactly think about that."

He'd thought that maybe Purpled's deadly sickness from Pogtopia had returned. Just for a second, but a second had been enough...

"It's fine, man," he said, yawning slightly. "Get out of my room so I can get changed."

"Okay, okay," Tubbo said, rolling his eyes. "I'll be waiting outside, though."

He groaned. "There goes my chance of going back to sleep," he said forlornly. "I don't get why I need to be there. All I did was talk to some women—" Had he? "—and dance with Ranboob."

"You're part of the team, dumbass," Tubbo replied, tilting his head slightly before he left the room, closing the door with a slight flick of his hand.

"Clementine, is he really there?" Tommy asked tiredly.

» Yes, Ensign Tommy. «

"Can you please just call me Tommy?" he said, his heart aching slightly as he padded over to his wardrobe and pulled out an everyday L'manburg uniform, throwing the jacket over his sleep clothes and trading his pants out.

» Of course, Tommy. «

Tommy sighed again, hopping around, trying to tie his boots as he thought about yesterday's events. It hadn't gone at all like he thought it would—God, he'd met an Arachnid that had absolutely shattered his world. That had made everything come to a splintering stop as he'd stopped to regard the information bestowed upon him.

He stepped outside the door with his laces poorly tied—Tubbo raised an eyebrow at him, and he stuck his tongue out obstinately. The Shulker only gave a small sigh and started plodding on down the hallway. Tommy blinked in the brightness of it compared to his room that he'd slept in, squinting slightly to dissuade the moderately bright rays from assaulting his eyes.

"Come on, Tommy!"

He grumbled some choice words under his breath at Tubbo's peppiness and followed the smaller boy down the hallway, hands in his pockets. Fortunately, the ship wasn't extremely cold or anything, and Tommy didn't have to raise his shoulders and curl into the collar of his uniform to gain warmth. That had been true with the H.M.S Fran sometimes—though usually, it was too hot, in the end, because of the Piglins.