To Be at Peace with Yourself

Chapter 10: Sick Day

Palette woke to a pounding sensation in his skull. Cracking open an eye socket, he cringed at the way the sunlight filtering in through the window seemed to burn at his eye lights.

Closing his socket once more, he took stock of himself. 

My head hurts, I'm unbearably hot and sore, I can feel my bones rattling, and even after sleeping the whole night I still feel tired... no matter how I look at it, I'm sick.

The only thing preventing him from groaning in displeasure of the self-diagnosis was the bundle of bones curled up next to him. Goth looked so peaceful, he couldn't bear to disturb him.

Normally, Palette would just stay in bed until he felt better... but he knew he wouldn't be able to spend all day sleeping. 

Goth needs me to prepare breakfast, lunch, and dinner as well as help him with learning his alphabet... not to mention all the chores that need to be done around the cabin and in the garden. There's no way I could make Goth do all that on his own, especially the cooking... there are too many hazards...

With his mind made up, Palette carefully extricated himself from his companion and shifted to throw his feet over the edge of the bed, pausing to let the room catch up with him. 

Once his vision evened out, he pushed himself off the bed slowly and shuffled over to the bathroom to retrieve some medicine. While he hated the taste, it would be necessary to function today. 

He took a swig of the liquid, trying not to gag as the burning sensation went down his throat. Cringing at the aftertaste, the skeleton put the bottle away and made his way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and wash his hands while Goth continued to sleep.

Today's breakfast will have to be simple. 

Digging out a pair of pans and setting them on the stove, Palette pulled out the ingredients for scrambled eggs and toast. As he cooked, the pleasant smell of food wafted through the small home, waking the other resident.

Palette had been zoning out at the stove when a slight weight leaned into his left side. He turned to find Goth, staring at the contents of the pans in excitement, "Eggs and... baked bread?"

The taller skeleton smiled and laughed lightly at the smaller's wording, gently correcting him, "Scrambled eggs and toast, yes." He continued stirring the eggs and flipping the bread in each pan as Goth watched, an amicable silence falling between them as Palette began to zone out again.

Palette hadn't been expecting the arms around his waist... or the worried eye lights staring up at him. Goth's voice quivered, "Is something wrong? Did something scare you? Is there danger?"

The questions confused Palette. Turning off the stove to plate the finished meal, he asked, "Why do you think I'm afraid or that there's danger here?" 

The scarved skeleton's grip tightened by a small margin, "You're shaking... shaking means scared, and scared means danger."

Ah, so that's what Goth meant. His observational skills really are something sometimes.

Removing Goth's arms so he could move the food to the table, Palette explained as he sat down, "I'm not scared, Goth, I'm just..." He paused, trying to figure out how he wanted to word it. 

In the end, he felt he needed to be honest so he didn't confuse the small monster further, "I'm not feeling too good right now, but I'll be okay as long as I take it easy today."

Goth tilted his head as he followed, "Don't feel good... you're sad?" Before Palette was able to correct him, arms wrapped around his neck and the smaller nuzzled into the back of his skull. 

Heh, if only hugs cured illnesses...

Palette turned slightly with a sleepy smile, "I'm not sad... it's called feeling sick." 

More confusion from the smaller, "Sick?"

"Yeah, it can leave you feeling really hot or cold, sometimes sore... usually tired," he elaborated digging into his breakfast. Goth took his own seat, joining the taller in the meal.

It makes sense. Goth can't die, so he probably can't get sick either.

A minute later, the smaller's fork stilled as his eye lights contracted a bit, anxiously inspecting the artist, "You're... tired? It hurts?" 

Palette grimaced as a thought dawned on him. 

Goth's only experiences with sore and tired are people hurting him, so he would naturally make that leap in logic.

Palette knew it would probably worry his companion, but he wanted to be honest, "While my skull does hurt a little, I took some medicine for it. I should be okay as long as I don't push myself too hard."

The smaller still wasn't convinced. 

"I'm okay Goth," he repeated, giving his best smile, " something like this usually only lasts a day or two.  We'll have a nice, quiet day... we'll even go to bed early tonight if that makes you feel better. First, though, we need to finish breakfast... good food can help you get the energy you need to feel better faster."

Nodding his head, Goth returned to his food as Palette did the same.  It wasn't up to par with his usual standards, but Goth seemed contented with the results nonetheless.

***

This and the next chapter were originally going to be one part, but the end result was 2,071 words... so I broke it up into two chapters.