Don't Come Back For Me

Feverish.

       "Kid, wake up." 

       "Five minutes, I promise." You refused to open your eyes, not wanting to wake up just yet. Those dreams had become more frequent and you could only assume you knew why.

       "At least eugh get outta the ship, kid, you're still on me." Rick grumbled, trying to get you to wake up. "I gotta get that box outta here."

       You opened your eyes reluctantly, looking around. You were still sitting in Rick's lap, but you were leaned back against him, apparently sleeping. "When did I fall asleep?"

        "Well, after the glitter bomb, the Citadel actually eugh ordered you to be shut up. So, y'know, they kinda knocked you out before we left." Rick grimaced, "You really eugh pressed their buttons." He laughed, "They're self conscious about their hair now, though."

        "Huh, weird." You climbed out of the ship, trying to remember at what point reality had become a dream. "That's getting annoying," you grumbled. As you stood, your head started reeling. Your stomach clenched and you had a familiar pain. "Shit." You leaned against a wall, "Boss, come here." You moved your fingers to usher him in your direction. 

       With a curious gaze, Rick wandered over to you. "Feel my forehead, would you?" You tilted your head up, watching him awkwardly place the back of his hand to your head. "I feel sick is why. What'dya got?" Rick flipped his hand to get a second guess, "You're a little warm, kid. How eugh long you been feelin' sick?"

       "Son of a biscuit," you grumbled. "Just started. I think I'm gonna go home, see if I can't sleep it off." You pushed yourself off the wall and stumbled to the door. "Kid, are you gonna make eugh it?" 

       You waved your hand in the air, nodding, "Yea. Don't wanna get y'all sick. I'm fine." You made it to the door, "See you later, sir." You gave a half-smile and waved. "See ya, kid." 

       The air was cool when you stepped out, the wind strong enough to make you pull your sweater closer to you as you wandered towards your truck. Climbing in, you were pushed lightly by a strong gust, nearly falling into your truck as the door closed behind you of its own accord. You double checked your pockets, ensuring that you had everything. You watched as Rick moved to close up the garage, smiling at you as he did so.

       You smiled back as you pulled out of the driveway and made your way to your apartment. The radio was on, playing the usual Christmas music before Thanksgiving even had time to pass. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer was playing and you couldn't help but sardonically sing along, mocking the annoying lyrics.

       The song quickly went away once you pulled into the lot, shutting your truck off and slowly making your way upstairs. Your body was hot to the touch, but you felt cold. You shivered lightly, making your way into your room. You threw your lab coat, keys, and phone on the floor in the front room as you rushed to your bedroom, digging around. Eventually, you found some fuzzy pajama bottoms. You chuckled at the design as you changed. The background was black behind the white and pink characters. There were unicorns and donuts, but the words 'Fuck You' were in big, bold, purple letters, printed everywhere there was space. They were your favorites. As soon as you changed your pants, you dug around in your dresser, looking for the matching sweater. Eventually, you found it. There was a cartoonish unicorn with a donut on its horn and its hoof drawn comically to mimic giving the bird. The words 'Fuck You' were, again, written in the same bold font on the front. 

       You trudged back to the couch, dragging your blanket and a pillow, the pajamas minimally lifting your spirits. You felt warmer, much more comfortable, as you moved your tossed objects from the floor. Your lab coat was draped over the back of the couch, your phone and keys on the end table. You laid your pillow on one side and sank into the couch, sighing in comfort as you turned the tv on. You may act like a child when you were normal, but you actually were a child when you were sick. The cartoonish creatures danced before you on the screen, bringing a smile to your lips as you pulled the blanket over yourself and snuggled in. Your head was pounding and you stomach had begun to stir more, your comfort levels dropping slightly. 

       With a groan, you pulled yourself up and dug in your end table, grabbing some NyQuil. You popped the pill contained open, peeling the foil wrap away before taking the pills. The water bottle on the ground saved you from having to get up and go to the kitchen when you did. 

       As you sat there, wishing the pills would take effect faster, your stomach churned. On instinct, you jumped off the couch and ran to the bathroom, heaving harshly into the toilet. "Ah, fuck." You wiped your chin and spat, flushing it down and walking back after making sure you got it all out of your system for the time being. On your way back, as you grew sleepy, you grabbed a garbage bin from near your desk and placed it near your head on the couch. Sighing, you climbed back onto the couch and watched cartoons until you finally passed out.