Quackbur Oneshots :D

Sick

Quackity POV--- fluff?
CW/TW: Vomiting, sick, panic attack

"Wilbur! I'm home!"

I yelled, walking into my apartment. I listened for his response, but... nothing?

"Wilbur?"

I locked the front door behind me as I walked into the kitchen. I looked around for my boyfriend. He didn't seem to be in there so I glance through the next few rooms. Not in the living room, not in his office, not in the bedroom. Where is he? I start to get more worried.

I pull out my phone, seeing if he texted me. Usually he's home now, he would tell me if he weren't here. Suddenly, I hear coughing coming from the bathroom next to our bedroom.

"Wilbur? Are you in there?" I knock on the door, it slightly opening. I hear more coughing and added sniffling coming from the room. He lets out a stuttered whine. I open the door fully, the bright lights shining in my face. 

I see my love, curled into himself, leaning on the bathtub. He had tears streaming down his face. He had his eyes squeezed shut. Wilbur's face was pale and he was shaking like crazy.

I kneeled down to him, gently resting my hand on his cheek. His eyes fluttered open as he took in a small, shuttery breath. He had tears in his eyes as he looked up at me. He closed his eyes again with a look of pain, turning his head away from me.

"Wil? Are you alright, love?"

He opened his mouth a bit, his bottom lip trembling, looking as if he were trying to speak. He ended up closing it as his breathing quickened again. He shook his head 'no'.

"Are you not feeling well?"

He shakes his head a bit more aggressively at that before stopping and putting his head on his knees. I pull my hand away. He was shaking and his breathing was quickening. 'Not good'

"Wilbur, love bug, I need you to breathe for me. Slow down, you'll be okay."

I already know about his anxiety surrounding him getting sick. It being this bad, to where he can seemingly barely move or keep his eyes open, he's freaking out. His shaking is only getting worse as his breathing speed up. I move to be infront of him. My hand move to his hair. I gently run my fingers through his fluffy strands of hair. This usually calms him down if I can't get him to breathe normally.

Suddenly he lurches forward, around me, and leans over the toilet. My hand falls back into my lap. He takes a few quick breathes as tears roll down his face and he throws up. I see his body convulse as liquid pours out of his mouth. I turn away as, frankly, the sight and sound of puking makes me feel iffy.

The sound stops and I hear him gasping for breath. I turn to look at him again. This time, he looks even paler now. He has tears and sweat running down his face. His eyes are closed and he continues to shake. His breathing seems to have leveled out a bit by now.

I grab some toilet paper and run it under some water. I gently put my hand on his back, running it up and down slowly.

"Wil? Can you lift your head for me?"

He pauses for a second before slowly raising his head. I see him start to tip backwards and I rush to move behind him so that he wouldn't bash his head on the wall. He slowly leans back onto me. I scoot back a bit so that his head is resting on my shoulder. 'Why does he have to be so tall.......'

He has his eyes gently scrunched shut. I begin to wipe his face off with a bit of the paper towel. He looks more relaxed as the cool paper towel runs across his face. After I'm done, I toss that piece  into the toilet. I grab the rest of the wet paper towel and lay it across his forehead to try to cool him down.