Final Space Oneshots

Sickness (1)

At first it was a sniffle.
Then a cough.
Really, Gary thought that it should be illegal to get sick in space because you couldn't even get medicine that easily. Or a nice blanket.
The day before Gary had woken up to have a clogged nose. It was annoying, but nothing too bad. He'd dealt with worse on his own, he could deal with this. Even when, later that evening, he began to feel lightheaded he didn't dwell on it, more engaged with playing cards.
But now it was the next morning and Gary is feeling a little – okay, a lot – worse for wear. His throat burned, his chest rattled with coughs and a sheen of sweat had settled on his forehead.
He woke up in a tangled mess in his sheets, legs sprawled at different angles. As always, the sickness doesn't hit him until he begins to get dressed.
His throat tickled and he was suddenly bent over in a fit of coughs that made his eyes burn. His head pounded as he leant against the wall, catching his breath.
He could already tell it wasn't going to be a good day.
Gary sighed, shuffling over to the medicine in his draw. One pill of painkiller rolled out of the box disappointingly.
This was going to be a really bad day.
He swallowed it nevertheless, only to begin coughing again as the powder itched his throat. He considered asking someone else for some medicine, because there was no way he could last a day on one pill.
"No...I'll be fine." Gary told himself. He pulled on a loose shirt. "I wouldn't even know how to ask...I can't just walk in and be like "hey could I have some pain stuff because everything hurts?"" Gary muttered. Heck, he wasn't even familiar with what he needed to make himself feel better. For as long as he could remember it had always been him that looked after himself when he was sick. Just Gary.
Just Gary in his treehouse.
"That's just depressing." He whispered. Despite feeling hotter than usual, he still pulled on his jacket – his dad's jacket – and looked quickly in the mirror.
"Looking okay Gary, looking okay." His reflection was passable, the dark shadows under his eyes were more due to the fact he hadn't been sleeping well for the past few days. He wiped the sweat off his brow, running his hand down his face. His head, despite the painkiller, was pounding persistently.
"Let's go."
Instead of full-on running as he usually did (what could he say? The smooth floors were fun to skate down each morning) he shuffled into the dining area. Already most of the crew were at the table. Clarence preferred to eat in his room, thank goodness.
"Hey Gary!" Little Cato greeted him as usual and, as usual, Gary couldn't help but smile at him. He ruffled the kid's Mohawk, making him whine.
"Nice to see you awake. Never seen you come down this late before." Nightfall said from the end of the table, sipping her coffee. Gary laughed, trying to play it off.
"Forgot to set the old alarm." He didn't even have an alarm.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Little Cato's paw try and take some of the fizzy pop from the counter. Before he could touch it, Gary leant over and pushed it far away from him. The teen grumbled something in disappointment.
"You know not to have that stuff at breakfast! Not good!" Gary scolded. He poured himself a drink, looking up to see Ash piling sugar onto her cereal. He batted the spoon away, tutting. Fox was next to her, creating a double decker toast sandwich for himself, grinning. HUE was humming and cooking some pancakes for no one in particular. And Mooncake...
"Hey! No feeding Mooncake at the table!" Gary spotted Little Cato trying to sneak some of Ash's cereal to the small alien. The kid jumped, laughing nervously.
For a moment he felt completely normal in the presence of them all. He pulled out some bread, placing some in the toaster for Little Cato.
The world suddenly spun around him, his head pounding. He gripped onto the counter top to keep himself upright, breathing deeply. His mind felt sluggish, and he almost let Little Cato's toast burn.
He considered telling at least Nightfall about how bad he was feeling, but dismissed it again. He could manage. He always had done.
Gary forgot to make a smiley face on Little Cato's toast, but it was too late. He saw the Ventrexian study him curiously – everyone knew that Gary always made toast faces – but the blonde quickly looked away.
"So is it true that there's a planet that is completely made out of daisies? Because that is so cute?" Fox began the conversation as usual, sitting at the table.
"That is so not true, idiot." Ash replied. The conversation filtered out of Gary's ears as his stomach rolled unpleasantly. The food smells were getting to him, making sweat break out on his forehead.
"Look, if there were flowers..." Little Cato's voice faded from his ears. His stomach lurched again, and with a stammered excuse, Gary slipped out of the room. Once out of sight, he sprinted to the bathroom, slamming the door after him.
Gary was violently sick into the bowl, chest burning as his body brought up everything it could. He gripped the bowl until his knuckles were white, panting.
It was really unfair that a common cold turned so south so quickly. If he was being honest with himself, this definitely wasn't just a "common cold" but his medical knowledge didn't pass that, apart from getting the flu that one winter.
He was alone then too. So it really (not really) made sense for him to just tell no one. They had bigger things to worry about, like getting the keys and saving Quinn.
"Gary? Are you in here?" Nightfall was at the other end of the door. Gary was tempted to stay quiet, but the possibility of the door being blown off its hinges was too great.
"I'm good! Just needed to go to the bathroom!" Gary tried to make his voice sound less like it was getting grated with sandpaper.
"Gary you've been in there for almost twenty minutes." Nightfall replied. "So come out before I shoot the door down."
"Don't do that! I'm coming!" Gary hadn't been aware of time passage until now. He bit his lip, wondering how to explain himself. He quickly flushed the toilet and stood up unsteadily.
"Gary! I'm not waiting much longer!" Nightfall warned. Gary yelped, trying time walk straight to the door without falling.
Maybe hiding it was harder than he thought.
"I'm just washing my hands!" Gary shouted as loud as he could. He fumbled with the door handle, wrenching it open. Nightfall was standing with a gun pointed at the door.
"See! I'm good!" Gary reassured. He quickly walked past her, feeling her judgemental gaze on his back.
He could barely function with his headache and fever, but managed to slide into his room unnoticed.
His legs immediately collapsed, and he hit his bed with a soft thump. The movement made him dizzy and he groaned.
Gary didn't realise he had closed his eyes, but found that he didn't want to open them. He figured that a few minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt. And maybe he would wake up feeling better.
So he let himself drift into a fitful sleep, slung awkwardly across his bed.