fissionmailed | And PLOT COMMENCES. Terrible plot. Horrible, whiny plot.

[There is a Liquid wandering the halls. Usually, Liquids are full of zest. This one... not so much. Odd, really. He's been feeling drained all day. His throat is scratchy and it's difficult to breathe properly. Worse, even his reflexes seem to be dulled! His head aches and his body is shaking with the cold. Why is he suddenly feeling the cold? He doesn't know! He's pale as death. He makes a quick call-]

Ocelooooot, where are you? I need you right now.

[-and hangs up. He can't help the rare whininess in his (particularly shaken and scratchy) voice. Liquid has never been sick a day in his life, excluding some of his imprisonment - and the less said about that the better. He leans against the wall, looking miserable, and sinks down to sit on the floor.]

This is a really rotten week... first the gray hair and now this...

DOES THE UNIVERSE JUST HATE ME LATELY?!

[His words break down into a fit of coughing and he buries his face in his hand for a moment as if that will hide his identity.]

(Long story short, Liquid is sick. It's not serious, even though he looks like hell, but prepare for whiny bitch syndrome if you approach him! He's not used to feeling this rotten.)

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[He doesn't hear, too busy losing the contents of his stomach and pitying himself. The door shuts behind Ocelot and it takes a moment or two before his body's pitching eases and he's able to breathe again. He ties up the bag and throws it weakly towards the bin rather than get up.

Then Liquid, being too drained to get back onto the bed, simply takes his advice and curls up on the floor to fall asleep. His sleep comes quick but it is disturbed and painful and before long his dreams become sporadic and insane. He doesn't stay still - it's impossible, in that state - so it could be a little disturbing to see how violently he shifts and thrashes against the air, mumbling and shouting in his sleep.]

[Slender arms ground themselves around Liquid's body. Soft muttering breathes over his ear. Ocelot hadn't wasted time embracing him when he saw that sickness hadn't deadened the nightmares.]

Shh...

You're not alone, Liquid.

[He wriggles and pitches against him for a moment before calming, the comfort slowly overwhelming the terror. Then, still asleep, he turns to bury his face against Ocelot's neck, clinging to him. It takes him a moment to stir and wake, for once actually deep in sleep.]

Mn... 'cewot?

That's right.

[Ocelot stroked Liquid's head until he felt him calm. Then he pushed two tiny objects into his palm.]

Take these fever reducer pills. They should help. I'll get you some water. [He moved to pry himself from Liquid.]

[Liquid, unfortunately, wasn't so willing to let go of him. Instead, he took the pills, swallowed them dry, and returned to clinging to him like a limpet.]

Don't go. I need you. [A pause.] Forget the water.

[Ocelot sighed into Liquid's hair.]

Just give me enough space to take some of my gear off. I don't want to sleep on top of my guns.

[He wriggled against Liquid as he tried to kick his boots off.]

Ocelot, WHAT IF I DIE WHILE YOU'RE BUSY TAKING YOUR SHOES OFF?! At least pull me up on the bed. I want to be comfortable while I die.

[Cough hack wheeze god WHY?]

What did I do to deserve this? Sure I took over a multi-million dollar secret military facility and planned to nuke a major population center if they didn't give me a corpse and money and stuff, but I DIDN'T DESERVE THIS!

[Sob. He melodramatically tugs himself away from Ocelot and slumps against the side of the bed.]

This could be my last hour! Hurry up. I might not have much time.

Well, you might whine yourself to death.

[Whap. Both of Ocelot's hands slapped onto each cheek of Liquid's ass, then gave him a hard shove to push him up onto the bed.]

[Liquid shot him an anguished look, then rolled over to flop on the bed.]

Cruel.

[Ocelot hopped onto the bed, climbing over him so he was hovering above Liquid.]

I've heard people call me a sadist...

...

You've "heard" it, huh? [He rolls his eyes and stares up at him, blinking.] Everyone who's ever heard your name knows that.

[He lightly kissed the side of Liquid's face, then half-rolled to the side so he could loop his arms around him and snuggle into his side.]

You should have expected that from me by now. I'm not a nice man.

You can say that again. [He frowned and nuzzled into him.] I'm dying, and you're being a jerk.

You're not dying. You're just sick. You'll be better in a few days.

Nothing like that is going to kill you.

[He smiled at the nuzzling, tightening his hold around Liquid.]

It feels like it is.

[Liquid's voice is pitiful. Sad Liquid is sad. And cuddling.]

I saw you jump from a platform high enough to kill people, and then climb right back up. You've survived years of torture and countless bullets. Do you see why I'm doubting that a little illness is going to put you down?

Besides, your symptoms don't look bad. I didn't see you vomit blood over there.

This is far more painful than any of that.

[Stubborn? Yes. Melodramatic? Yes.]

Just hold me. If I live through the night I'll agree with you.

You sure you don't want me to do anything else for you? Heat up some soup, get you some water... help you shower.......

...water sounds good.

[Not rising to it, Ocelot.]

I don't think I can eat.

[Ocelot quickly pries himself loose before Liquid can change his mind, and gets a glass of filtered ice-water for him. He returns, climbing back into the bed and keeping his hand on the glass as he holds it close to Liquid's mouth.]

Poor Liquid... [He kisses his temple.] This affliction of mere mortals won't last forever.

[He sips it gratefully, a little faster than he should. The coldness of the water feels good.]

Mn. I'm glad of that. Thank you, Adam.

I hope you'll do the same for me if you get me sick.

[He scoots back to the head of the bed and pulls on Liquid until he's resting on Ocelot's lap again.]

Feel free to sleep more. I'm not going anywhere else.

[Liquid nods and cuddles up against him.]

'course I would... 's what you do for people you love, isn't it?

[His eyes closed almost of their own accord as he relaxed.]

[Ocelot goes quiet at that rare word, his lips pressed in a light smile. His fingers stroke though his hair, focusing on the act as he listens to Liquid's sleepy breathing.]

And PLOT COMMENCES. Terrible plot. Horrible, whiny plot.

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