regular Show Illness

part 4

Rigby woke once again to his stomach rolling dangerously.  He sat up to run off to the bathroom when he heaved and slapped a hand to his mouth as vomit spewed from between his fingers and all over the sheets and his chest. Oh it was bad. He was mostly just throwing up water and bile so it would be easy to clean, but he had just puked on Mordecai's sheets. Tears pricked in his eyes as he heaved up another torrent of sick that went right through his fingers.

Mordecai had woken up at this point and seemed calm for the most part. He crawled out of bed and bent down beside the door before handing the trashcan that used to sit there to Rigby, who gladly accepted it as he had started to heave violently at this point and his hand was no longer able to hold back most of it like he had been.

"I turned off the alarm and called Benson. He said he'd be here in half and hour to see if you were alright." Mordecai explained as he rubbed his friend's back.

Rigby whimpered at the mention of anyone seeing him like this other than Mordecai. Mordecai understood why too, Rigby was a mess currently. His fur was matted all over, chest and chin was coated with a thin sheen of vomit, eyes bloodshot. Yeah. He was a mess.

"Let's get you and the bed cleaned up." Rigby handed over the trashcan over to the bird who took it and placed it beside the bed. Rigby needed help getting to the bathroom but he could handle it from there so Mordecai went to go clean the bed.

Mordecai stripped the bed of its sheets, throwing them to the floor. He went out into the hall, finding new sheets and covers in the hallway closet. He placed the folded articles on the bed before gathering up everything on the floor in his arms and bringing those to the wash room where the washing machine and dryer were. Pops was already in there, drying his clothes so the washer was free. Mordecai loaded the washer as Pops made idle chatter.

"Good morning Mordecai!" Pops called happily, rather chipper for six in the morning.

"Morning Pops." Mordecai responded, shoving the sheets into the machine.

"Doing a bit of laundry before the park opens?"

"Yup."

"Where is Rigby?"

"Taking a shower."

"I heard you two had a rough night. How is Rigby?"

"Sick. He threw up on the covers. That's why I'm washing them." With that, Mordecai closed the lid of the washing machine and turned it on, ready to get back to changing the sheets.

"Poor darling. Tell him I hope he gets better!"

"Will do!" Mordecai saluted Pops as he left the wash room. He got back to his and Rigby's room and went about covering his bed with these new covers.

While smoothing down the covers, Rigby shuffled in, leaning on the door frame for support. Mordecai smiled warmly over at his sick buddy, trying to hide his fear. "Hey, Rigs."

Rigby looked like a new born with the way his freshly cleaned fur stood up due to being blow dried. "Hey..." His voice broke and he coughed, pushing himself off the door frame and wobbling over to where Mordecai was standing, face planting onto his friend's leg when he got there.

Mordecai almost jumped with how warm Rigby was. Just how high was his fever?