I'm Home! (Wally Darling x reader)

8. Just a Bit Sick

For a second, everything was a blur. Your ears rang as you opened your eyes, a muffled voice in the back of your mind. "Y/n, darling," you were lying on your couch, facing the ceiling. The familiar felt was staring down at you, a sleepy grin plastered on its face.

"Wally?"

"Yes, that's me,"

"Are we back home?" you mumbled, still feeling restless.

"Well, not exactly, but I guess that is what you call your house, so yes," why did you feel so winded? Did getting there wear you out this much? You wouldn't be able to answer that, you didn't have a clue how you got to the technicolor world in the first place. You just awoke in Wally's arms.

You tried to sit up on the couch, but it was much more of an endeavor than it seemed. You let in a deep breath trying to heave yourself up, but the oncoming fatigue overwhelmed you. Your mouth hung open as your eyes mirrored Wally's half lidded ones. Holding your head up with one hand and the rest of your torso with your other on the couch was not very efficient. Your vision was darkening once again and your arms started going numb. Your head now extremely heavy.

"Neighbor!" Wally pushed you back into a lying position, his eyes widened out of character. "Your already drowsy, I can't have you feeling faint," all of a sudden you felt a rush of acid run up your throat. Usually, you'd try to hold it in and signal someone, but you were so weak that you really couldn't.

Leaning your head over the floor, you closed your eyes as you barfed. Who knew muffins and stomach acid could smell so bad? The stench made you vomit even more and you felt Wally hold your hair back. Luckily, the puppet pushed you back on the couch. If he hadn't, you were sure you'd just collapse on the puddle of bile.

"Careful there," you hadn't even realized he left, but he was now armed with tissues. He wiped the- stuff off of your lips before attacking the puddle on the floor. You honestly didn't want to think much of the stuff you barfed up at the fear of vomiting again at the thought.

Was it always this hard to keep your eyes open? "Get some rest, darling" that didn't seem too difficult a task with how heavy your eyelids were. Except, as soon as you shut your eyes a throbbing headache arose.

"Uh, Wally my head hurts," was all you could muster. You felt water slip out of your eyes, which now stung as well.

"Don't cry!" The puppet exclaimed whilst wiping your tears with one of the many littered tissues.

"I'm f-fine," you stuttered. "Wally, get some..."

"Some?" He asked.

"Advil,"

"Not on an empty stomach. I'll be right back alright," you were surprised he even knew what painkillers were. Though, he did seem to know more than he let on in these situations.

At some point, he brought you a glass of water. It was tempting to take it, but the thought of your hands faltering and the glass shattering on the floor was enough to ease your need.

For now, you just stared at the glass. The light refracted on it in beautiful colors. The water shone turquoise and white, with the occasional sliver of green light. The silver edge of the glass complimented it in a wonderfully simple medley of hues. So bright, a stark contrast to the dull grim world you were stuck in. How you longed to return to the peaceful world of Welcome Home. The bright lights, the joyful companions, the pure bliss.

Why did Wally want to leave it so badly? His actions countered his interactions with the neighbors. On one hand, he told them you'd be visiting often, but on the other, he urged you to leave as quickly as possible.

Almost as if he was debating the thought with himself. Would it be that difficult to make a decision between two completely different choices? It was like not knowing whether to say 'yes' or 'no'. Though once again, he was more than meets the eye. The situation probably wasn't that black and white. He was hiding something, and you knew it.

"Here you go, darling. I couldn't find much, but I was able to get this soup together," he handed you a bowl of seemingly chicken soup. How he made it at the grand height of twelve apples, you'd never know.

"Thanks," you reached for the spoon, but immediately it dropped to the ground. Wally picked it up and got another one. It was then that you both mutually decided he had to feed you. 'It wasn't cute, it was for the survival of the soup,' you told yourself.

You honestly didn't know why he went with soup. It's not like you were congested, you didn't have the flu. You were just really sore for, what seemed to be no particular reason. Actually, it might've been because of your egregious lack of nutrients. That made much more sense.

Soup and some Advil later, you were fast asleep.

~~~ 🍎 ~~~

Upon waking, you felt much better. Yawning, you sat up to see Wally sitting next to you on the coffee table. "Feeling better?"

"Very much actually,"

"Wonderful, you're just the most, neighbor," you giggled at his little catch phrase. "You've been asleep for the better part of an hour,"

"That's not very long at all," you pointed out. He just shrugged in response. He had a pencil atop a piece of paper on his lap. "Drawing?"

"Not anything special," he lifted the drawing to show a cute little apple.

Little did you know, he had hid the drawing he made of you. He would've shown you, but thought it'd probably make you uncomfortable.

~~~

978 words

"I'm wasting away at the thought of school. Hopefully this chapter is as good as usual, not that I'm some sort of innate figure in poetry or anything. Fewer and fewer of you are going out of your way to give feedback, but it's still astounding that 600 of you have read this so far. For all the people that have been here since the beginning (aka all of you), thank you for sticking around! Please vote and PLEASE comment your thoughts, and I'll see you next chapter,"

- Coffee