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mintkookiess · 10 months

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If Only.

Worst mistake to write angst while listening to a sad playlist oh my god I kid you not, I started ugly sobbing during the climax that I needed a quick break before continuing. Don't mind me, just gonna sulk in a corner for a while.

Love,

Mint

Summary: Hanahaki disease. That’s all I’m placing here.

Tags: Miles Morales x reader, Hanahaki disease, angst (no happy ending again), death, don't forget your tissues, not proofread, maybe I'll do it later

Warnings: Major character death, mentions of blood

Your eyes pried open on another normal, already dragging, Tuesday morning. The alarm clock on your bedside table wasn’t even loud enough to wake you, seeing as how you slept through it. You carefully laid to your side, as the all-too-familiar cough climbed up your throat. This went on for a minute until you see a small pile of petals on the floor.

“Shit…” You muttered to yourself, groggily grabbing the glass of water that you’d already prepared the previous night like always. This was the normal morning routine for you.

Wake up. Cough those stupidly red petals. Get through the day. Cough even more petals. Go home. Sleep. Repeat.

On this particular morning, however, it was quite different because you could hear the voice of your best friend outside your dorm.

“Hey, you awake yet?” Miles asked, knocking softly to make sure he doesn’t wake you if you were still asleep. You always thought that was kind of him.

You forced yourself up and out of your bed, shoving back the blankets then dragged your feet to open the door.

“I’m awake. Why are you here? Thought you’d be waiting at the school entrance like usual.” You said huskily, still with that morning voice. Your best friend shook his head, “I kinda woke up a little early today so I thought I’d come to pick you up from your place instead.”

You couldn’t help but smile.

He was just too good for you.

“Fine. Let me get changed at least.” You chuckled, before closing the door in his face. You laid your back against it, sliding down to the floor as you felt that familiar ache in your chest.

In just a few seconds, you started hacking once more right then and there.

Ah, was it because I wasn’t expecting him here this morning?

“H-Hey, you good?” You hear Miles ask from the other side, making you scramble up. “I’m fine Miles just um… choked on my saliva.” You lied. Your hands quickly grab the tiny broom and pan you kept and started sweeping up all the red petals that decorated your floor.

You then threw every single last one in your already overflowing bin. I’d have to clear that out before he sees it.

You quickly changed into some more decent clothes before grabbing your bag and heading out to see Miles laying against the opposite wall of the door, he gave you a small smile and stood up. “Ready?”

You nodded in response, making sure to lock your door before you both head down.

“Oh right, Gwen is actually coming with us to class today if that’s okay,” Miles said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his hair.

You made it like your life’s mission to ignore Gwen at all costs. It was entirely selfish, but it wasn’t like it really did you any favors with your… disease. Miles had confronted you about this a couple of times, but you just came up with lie after lie. You didn’t want to, because you can’t exactly tell him the true reason.

Of course, your best friend knew you were lying, but he just didn’t want to pry because it might make you uncomfortable. And you were thankful for that. Until now.

“Miles—”

“I know I know I just… It was a last-minute thing.” Miles said, trying to reason with you, “It’ll be just this once I swear. I know you’re not exactly a fan of her but, can’t you still try? I mean maybe if you got to know her better—“

“Fine.” You sighed, finally agreeing.

Doctor Sanchez’s words suddenly echoed in your head like a siren that was loudly warning you.

“Stop feeding yourself even more hurt. Ignore, lie, and do anything you can to stop. It’ll slow it down, but not much.”

Oh, how you knew. This was practically engraved into your mind, heart, body, and soul. You said this to yourself so many times like an oath. Avoid the hurt.

But you can’t keep being a bad friend to Miles any more than you already have.

The both of you continued to walk to the lobby of your school in complete silence. Miles could only bite his lip in nervousness, though he just wanted to ask why you happened to dislike Gwen so much, he just didn’t want to make you mad. His grip on his backpack’s straps only tightens at the thought.

What is really going on with you? He thought to himself.

Your eyes stared straight forward as you both reached your destination. It wasn’t long until it spotted the familiar blonde girl from a distance.

Gwen gave a light wave to the two of you as she walked toward where you both were standing.

“Hey Gwen, what’s up?” Miles greeted, his face lighting up in an instant like some Christmas tree in New York.

You forced yourself to look away but still got a glimpse of it.

Why did I agree to this?

Your chest tightened, and you instinctively covered your mouth with a hand. No please, not here. Not right now.

“Um hey…” Gwen cautiously greeted you. She tried to give you a friendly smile to which you only nodded.

Miles could already sense the growing tension and suddenly clapped his hands together. “So, physics class? We gotta bounce or we’d all be marked late.”

“Yeah, we should go.” You mumbled, walking past them while still covering your mouth as if it would stop the cough that was threatening to let out.

Gwen and Miles looked at each other worriedly but silently followed behind you.

You could hear them talk in hushed voices behind you, but your entire focus was on trying to not cough in the school hallways.

The Hanahaki disease isn’t exactly a secret. Everyone knows what it is. And you’d rather burn in hell than have people find out. Especially him and her.

Your other hand clutched your chest as you tried to walk faster because you wanted to keep a safe distance between you and the other two as much as possible before you practically start vomiting those red petals on the school floors.

“Is… she okay?” Gwen whispered to Miles with clear concern. She knew you didn’t exactly like her, she wasn’t an idiot. Gwen believes that it’s because she suddenly entered your two-man friend group without warning when in reality, it was so much more than that.

“Sorry about her…” Miles sighed, his head hung low and a frown decorated his lips. You were his absolute best friend, and to see you being like this with Gwen makes him ache. If only, he could know what was wrong, but he also wanted to respect your space. It has him torn between two cautious choices that could end up in the worst way possible. He just didn’t know how deep the consequences would be.

Other than the different morning you had, it was just like any other day. You were able to stop yourself from coughing for the most part, but if you couldn’t take it you’d excuse yourself to the bathroom, letting out a few petals in the toilet and flushing them away.

During lunchtime, it was usually just you and Miles at the cafeteria, but Gwen decided to tag along once again. So you had the utmost pleasure to see the two joke about and discuss things that you never understood because you weren’t a Spider person like them.

You watched as Miles laughed and smiled at everything she said, and all you could do was mindlessly stab your food in hopes of drowning out and forgetting what you're currently witnessing. However, you immediately started coughing. Your hands instantly flew to your mouth to keep the petals in your mouth.

You gave Miles a panicked look before running out the cafeteria and into the bathroom, immediately vomiting all the petals that had accumulated inside your mouth, and for the rest of lunch, you were stuck there, filling up the toilet with the petals that were such an eye sore to you as hot tears flowed down from your eyes.

Miles had tried to bring it up during the succeeding classes, only for you to turn him down every single time. He finally gave up, but was still worried because he sensed something different about you today.

Your doctor did prescribe you some suppressants for the disease, but you refused it time and time again. Taking those suppressants would make you slowly lose grip on your feelings for Miles.

As much as it hurt you, you didn’t want that.

To hell with those fucking petals, who cares if it’s taking your life little by little every day? Your love for him was too great, too good of a feeling. It was worth it.

It’ll be worth it.

When you asked your doctor how much more time you have left, they didn’t give a direct answer but you knew. You already knew that it wasn’t long. Few months give or take. Maybe even shorter than that.

Once classes were done, you gave Miles your usual goodbye hug before heading out of campus to the hospital for your daily check-up for the Hanahaki disease.

Your doctor did the usual tests, examining a petal of yours, conducting blood tests, scans, etc.

After an hour, she called you back into her office for the results. You were halfway into taking your seat as she already shoots the question that you’d been dreading to be asked.

“Have you been taking your suppressants?”

In truth, you didn’t tell her that the pills were just laying on the floor somewhere in your dorm. You weren’t going to be lectured by your doctor.

“Yes.” You lied, eyes looking everywhere in her office but her. Your eyes focused on this particular vase, where a single flower laid there. It was the same shade of red as yours, making you chuckle.

Before your doctor could start telling you about how important commitment was to the treatment, you start wheezing.

But this time, it felt different.

Your lungs felt like they ran out of air, your throat was like it had been clogged and you couldn’t breathe. Your eyes widened as you took sharp inhales, but for some reason, you couldn’t exhale at all. You fell off your chair and into the floor, gripping your throat, nails digging to scratch your skin from the excruciating pain.

Doctor Sanchez was quick to get down to you, rubbing your back as her face filled with worry. “It’s at its final stage, you have to tell him—“

“No!” You yelled, surprised that you were even able to utter a single word. Shortly after that however, you were back to heaving. Your hand was now in a fist, punching your chest in an attempt to get out whatever it was that was in your lungs.

Your mind started to fog up, and your vision was slowly going black until you saw it.

The fully formed flowers on the ground.

There were no petals, this time they were fully bloomed roses.

They were so pretty that it was almost laughable. Something beautiful was stemming from your despair and suffering. At least there was one thing good happening from your godforsaken disease.

Miles, on the other hand, barged into your dorm to bring the textbooks he borrowed from you, or at least that’s what his excuse was gonna be to you. It was your number one rule that he shouldn’t just come into your room when you were gone, but he could sense something off with you today. Much more than usual. And he was determined to find out.

He had an extra key for emergencies, so he entered without any problems. He took in your room, setting down the textbooks on your desk as he took a seat by the edge of your bed.

She’s not here. He thought to himself, sighing.

As his brown eyes roamed the different bits and bobs around your dorm, he suddenly spotted something behind your desk. Miles squinted his eyes, wondering what it was. “Is that… a petal?” He wondered out loud. He crept up to it, crawling under your desk to grab the petal. “What the…” His fingers examined it carefully until he spotted something from the corner of his eye. There were more.

A lot more.

His eyes slowly widened at the bin of red petals. It was so full that the petals had dissipated around it on the floor. Miles’ eyebrows scrunched up together, wondering where all these could be from until… it dawned on him.

“Hanahaki? But… but how I…” He stuttered. He pulled the bin towards him with shaking hands, inspecting the petals that had a rich shade of red. Almost similar to that of his Spiderman suit.

She… She had this all along and hid it from me I…

He spots another item, it was a pill bottle. Except its contents were scattered, and the bottle itself was cracked as if it was thrown against the wall and fell behind your desk.

Miles picked it up, dreading to see what it was. He slowly turned it around to see the words “Hanahaki suppressants - Y/n L/n 30 pills 150 mg” written in big bold letters that stared back at him.

He drops it out of shock, chest heaving and breaths coming in quickly.

He was confused, so confused about everything. Why would you hide such a thing from him…?

Doctor Sanchez called for emergency assistance, she grabbed the intercom in a panic. “Code blue! I repeat code blue! Medical assistance to room 1304 now! Code blue!”

In a matter of seconds, doctors and nurses have already carried your body to a hospital bed, as roses continuously shook out of your mouth.

Your entire body was flaring up and all you could do was scratch your neck so hard that it almost draws blood. Your nose and ears have started to bleed out, and it was as if your skull was being cut open and stabbed repeatedly.

You couldn’t even form words as the nurses continued to push you into room 1304 for emergency treatment. The people at the hospital looked over in pity and nervousness as they watched the girl with the Hanahaki disease being pushed across the hallway as roses start to flood after her bed like a trail.

Even if it felt like the pain was eating your entire body alive, all you could think of was him.

Please, I need to see him. Even for just one more second, please.

But Miles doesn’t even know anything about this, and it just increases your already large amount of regret.

I should’ve told him. Even though I know he doesn’t like me back, I should’ve told him.

He’s my best friend. And I can't even say goodbye.

But maybe this was for the best. I wouldn't want him to see me in such a pathetic state.

Miles was quick to suit up, flinging himself out of your window in a matter of miliseconds. He didn’t know where to find you, and all he could do was rack his brain on the places that you could be in. As he continuously swung around the city, tears formed in his eyes behind his mask.

He was angry. So angry at himself for not noticing. Furious at the fact that he already knew something has been off with you for the past months, but he didn’t try hard enough to know what it was. He was mad because he just let you suffer alone.

Some friend I am. He thought on repeat.

He tried to use his senses to see if he could pinpoint your location, running and swinging between endless crowds and roads, because something felt terribly wrong.

Miles didn’t know what exactly it was, but he knew.

He had to hurry.

“Time of death… 5:47 pm.” Your doctor read from the monitor in a monotone voice. She wrote down the information with trembling hands. Her eyes crept up to see you on the hospital bed, frozen and still.

The static sound of the heart monitor was so deafening and seemed louder than it normally was. There was a heavy silence in the hospital’s emergency area as everyone present stood still.

Another poor youthful soul had been taken by such a cruel disease.

Suddenly, the door banged open, and there stood Miles who was breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath.

His brown eyes spotted you and it was as if time had stopped running, as if the world around him disappeared just like that.

Miles slowly took in the sight before him, your doctor who stood by the edge of your bed with a deep frown, you who was laying still, eyes closed. He also tried to process the flowers that filled up the entire floor of the room. These were roses, but he knew their petals.

“I believe you are him?” Doctor Sanchez asked with a poor attempt at a professional tone. Miles’ mouth was still agape in shock, his mind refusing to process what he was seeing as he slowly looked at her. “Wh-What?” The doctor sighed, hugging her clipboard to her chest. “You’re her unrequited love, yes? You’re Miles Morales?”

The poor boy couldn’t muster a single word right now, so all he could do was slightly nod at her. “Time of death was 5:47, the cause is… Hanahaki.” She reported with an aching heart as she sees Miles’ expression.

“I… I never knew until I saw the…” Miles couldn’t even bring himself to say it, that maybe if he didn’t then all of this wouldn’t be true. He took slow steps towards you, each one being heavier than the last as if they weighed a thousand pounds.

It felt as if his heart stopped beating, and his body no longer functioned as he stared down at you. His quivering fingers tried to grab your hand, only to find that it was cold… Too cold…

Right at that second, tears had already started to stream down his cheeks silently. Miles bit his lip hard as he started to harden his grip on your hand. He placed it between both his hands and he rubbed violently.

Maybe if he did so, he’d be able to bring back some warmth into your body. Maybe he’d feel that familiar tingling sensation that he always felt when both your hands would touch. He was silently praying that it was a prank, that he’d feel your fingers wrap around his, and that you’d tell him you were fine.

But it never came.

Your chest wasn’t rising up and down, there seemed to be no more color in your face, no more life. Your lips have turned a faint blue as dried blood surrounded your nose and ears.

He refused to think of what this meant. He wasn’t going to believe it. He… He just can’t.

“But I… I love her too.” Miles hiccuped between tears. He felt his legs give out, making him fall to his knees but the flowers had cushioned him from hitting the floor. Even in this state, you manage to keep him from feeling pain.

Doctor Sanchez’s breath hitched in her throat and she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “She thought you liked someone else. She didn’t want you to worry so she hid it I… I’ve tried to tell her that she should confess, to tell you how she felt but she… she was dead set on thinking that… she was never enough for you.” After one last breath, she walked towards the door. “I’ll… give you some privacy.”

Once the door closed behind him, Miles weakly stood up and that’s when it started. He let out the most painful cry so loud that everyone outside the room could hear.

His hands gripped his hair, pulling at it vigorously as he continued to bawl his heart out in agony.

The truth was, he loves you more than anyone in this entire world. He loves you with every fucking fiber of his being, with every cell in his body. All of it was yours, every heartbeat of his was dedicated to you. You were a major part of why he wanted to keep being Spiderman, so he could protect you.

So he could shield you away from any harm or danger.

And yet, he still couldn’t save you.

He started to feel suffocated as he punched the floor with his fists, almost cracking it in the process.

He was so goddamn furious at himself.

He felt like the biggest fucking coward in the entire universe.

If only, if only he had mustered even the slightest of courage to tell you of how he felt, then this wouldn't have happened. You'd still be alive.

Miles was now wailing in anger and pain that he couldn’t even begin to describe.

The realization has finally started to kick in.

He had lost you.

You suffered alone because you thought your love for him was unrequited and would never have been returned.

You didn’t believe in the possibility. But oh how wrong you were.

You didn't see the passion, love, and admiration in his eyes whenever he looked at you. You failed to notice the little things he did for you, like remembering your favorite things, or bringing you to your favorite places.

How he would pluck flowers from the school garden and gave it to you, or maybe even the times where he'd let you copy his answers on a test.

You just thought he was such a good friend.

If only… If only the both of you have tried a bit harder. Maybe then, it didn’t have to end this way.

Fin.

More of my Miles content here babes!

(if yall wanna be on my taglist feel free to let me know!)

#i'm so sorry this was so long #oh my god i'm still crying #i hate this sm pls #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles g morales #across the spiderverse #miles morales x you #miles morales angst #angst with no happy ending #atsv fic #atsv

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gt-jar · 1 month

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Two Worlds among the Stars

7. CHAPTER

<- previous | next ->

Word count: 4.125

The next time Noah woke up everything hurt. His entire body was aching. He was hoping it was just the consequence of his escape attempt yesterday, but his throat was just as sore as his muscles, and his head felt like he had run straight into a brick wall. There was no denying it, he was sick.

Great, that's exactly what he needed right now.

He lifted his head from his knees, only now noticing how stiff his neck was. Sleeping the entire night in a sitting position on a wooden table was definitely not one of his best ideas. But Noah was nothing, if not stubborn. And he had gotten his message across last night, so it was worth it. Maybe it finally went through the man's thick skull that he could shove his hypocrisy somewhere else. Speaking of which, where was that guy?

One look around showed that the giant wasn't sleeping in his bed anymore, Noah couldn't hear him either, which meant he wasn't nearby.

Just like that his morning felt a tiny bit less horrible.

Hopefully he would be gone for a while, Noah certainly wasn't in the mood for any talking, and with how great things were going for him at the moment the man surely was going to say something like “deserves you right for running away” or “it's your own fault that you're sick now”.

Not that he would be wrong. Just thinking about yesterday sent shivers down his back. All things considered, he was pretty lucky that he got off lightly with just a cold. Things could have ended a lot worse. But the last thing he needed right now was a lecture. His head was killing him already and he would like to avoid making it worse.

Noah let his head drop on his knees and closed his eyes again, maybe his headache would lessen like this. The position may be extremely uncomfortable, and he sure as hell wasn't doing his neck a favor, but it wasn't like he had better options right now. With the giant gone he was stuck on the table after all.

He still very much preferred the current peace over getting to the pillow on the man's nightstand. At least that's what he told himself.

He must have fallen asleep again, because the next thing he knew was that he woke up to a snapping sound. Noah forced his eyes to open, and sure enough the giant was snapping his fingers in front of his face. Why couldn't he just leave him alone?

“You okay, kid?” he asked with a furrowed brow.

“Sure, why wouldn't I be?” Noah answered, his voice involuntary taking on a defensive tone. Sure, he felt even worse than before, but that didn't mean he wanted to rub it in the man's face. If Noah was smart about it, the man wouldn't even notice that he was sick. Miss Harris never did either.

John didn't look convinced though. But as long as he would drop the matter, Noah didn't really care. He didn't have to believe him, Noah just wanted him to stop bothering him. Just until he felt better. Was that really too much to ask for?

“If you say so,” the man said.

He still eyed him suspiciously, but took a seat, so Noah counted it as a win, “how about some breakfast then? I'm sure you're hungry.”

Just like yesterday he prepared a plate with bread and jelly for the teen, pushing it half way between them. Noah already knew what was coming next and gritted his teeth in frustration.

“If you can sit with me to fool me, you can do it today as well,” he tapped his finger beside the plate, prompting him to come closer, “And remember, I'm not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

Noah flexed his fingers, pretty much everything else felt sore. He braced his hands on the table, before pushing himself up. Just standing up made him dizzy, but he pushed through it. His legs felt so weak, like they had no bones in them to support his weight. He made his way over to the food, every step was exhausting him further. Noah just prayed that the man would leave him alone after this. Unfortunately, the spinning in his head only got worse, everything was starting to blurry. He had no control over his body and before he knew it he was falling towards the table.

Before he could hit the hard surface though, a pair of large hands caught him. His arms and legs were swinging and kicking, trying to find out where up and down was. He tensed when something cold touched his head. He realized that John's thumb was pressing against his forehead, and that's when he heard a hiss from above.

“When exactly were you going to tell me that you have a fever?” The man didn't sound too happy about the fact that Noah had tried to hide his sickness from him. Noah didn't understand why it was such a deal though.

“Why would I? It's just a fever. It's not like I haven't dealt with those on my own before. I can take care of myself.”

Noah swore the man looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it.

Good for him.

Instead he huffed, and pulled him close as he walked over to his bed. As Noah was cradled against John's chest he realized just how cold he was.

Damn fever.

The desire to lean into the warmth the man's body was providing was almost unbearable. That guy was basically a living furnace! Thankfully, before he could do something really stupid, he was placed on the pillow that served as his bed.

Then John placed the plate with his breakfast and a thimble filled with water beside him on the nightstand.

“Get some sleep while I'm gone, and please do me a favor and try to eat something. I'll be back soon” After that he walked out the cave, probably to “work” as he called it.

For once Noah was too weak to argue and lied back down. John finally left him alone. That's what he had wanted after all.

Right?

John ended his patrol earlier than usual. There was no need to drag this out, after the show he pulled off, John doubted there would be any trespassers any time soon. And besides, he wasn't truly focused on his work anyway. His thoughts were somewhere else, worry clouding his mind, distracting him. To go home was an easy decision, the kid's well being was more important than his patrol right now.

When he got home, Noah was fast asleep, his breathing shallow and uneven. His blanket had slipped down a little in his sleep, so John pinched the hem between his fingers and pulled it up to Noah's chin again, carefully tucking the blanket around his shoulders. From the looks of it, the kid hadn't touched his food. Nor the water.

This wasn't good.

Neither of them had eaten last night, which meant the kid had skipped two meals already. John may not know much about humans, but this couldn't be healthy. Noah was already awfully light, even for a human, barely weighing anything to him. He needed to eat. And even John knew that it was important to drink enough fluids, when you were running a fever.

Ever since the village incident, John kept messing up. First losing his temper, and now the kid was sick, which was partly his fault. As if their situation wasn't bad enough as it was already. He could have avoided this, if he just made sure that Noah had properly dried himself off last night, instead of giving him a lecture. That could have easily waited until the next morning. John sighed, there was no point in dwelling on things that couldn't be undone, he needed to focus on the important things. Right now the kid needed his help, no matter what he claimed. And John was determined not to mess things up this time.

But who was he kidding, how could he not mess this up? He had no idea how to take care of a sick child, let alone a human child! He himself rarely got sick. What was he supposed to do? What if he accidentally made it worse? Okay no, overthinking wouldn't help Noah. Right now the kid was sleeping, which was probably good. Rest was good. What else? Right, basic needs. Noah still needed to eat.

John tried to remember what his mom used to cook, when he and his sister were sick. She always made them something that was easy on the stomach and didn't require much chewing. So he started to make soup.

The moment he wanted to throw the cut vegetables in the pot, a coughing fit startled him.

When he looked over his shoulder, Noah was sitting up, his body hunched over and cramped up. Coughs rattling his entire body. This probably was more than just painful to watch. John walked over to his nightstand and kneeled down beside it. His intention was to rub Noah's back to help him through his coughing fit, but when his fingers as much as brushed his back, the kid recoiled from contact as if his fingers had burned him. The boy sent him the nastiest glare John had seen in all their time together. He put his hands up to show that he meant no harm. Not that it had worked the last times he had tried to convince the kid that there was no need to be afraid. But hey! At least the coughing had stopped.

“Would you drop the act already?!”

John, for the first time truly oblivious to what the kid meant, asked, “What act?”

“Don't play dumb with me! You know exactly what I'm talking about! Stop pretending to be so nice!”

“What makes you think I’m pretending to be nice?”

“Oh, let me think. First of all, you have been terrorizing my village for fucking ages. And did you forget that I saw how you acted back at my village? How you threatened us. And now you want me to believe that you're a good guy? I don't know what you're hoping to achieve with this, but it won't work. So stop it.”

Well, the kid had a point.

John debated his next words. If he wanted the kid to believe him, when he said he didn't need to be afraid, he had to tell him the truth. Hopefully he won't regret his decision later.

“Okay, you got me, I was pretending,” before Noah could say anything about being right, John continued, “but I'm not pretending right now. I'm gonna be honest with you, this whole… big bad giant thing, how I acted at your village, that was just an act.” Noah made no move to Interrupt him, which he took as a good sign.

“I know you probably don’t believe me, but you're a smart boy. You probably figured out already that I'm just a normal guy. Except for my size there is nothing really special about me. And you're old enough to know that I didn't just… poof into existence.

I’m not the only giant. I have family. Friends. There’re a lot of other giants out there. And all these tales about us, that humans spread over the years, they are just a scheme to scare you off. We’re not blood-thirsty monsters, but… we pretend that we are, because it's the only thing that keeps us safe from you-”

“Safe? From us? You're kidding, right? What on earth could someone my size possibly do to threaten a fucking giant?” Noah barked.

“Kid, where do you think I got these from?” He pointed at his scars, “One human may not be able to do much damage, but numbers can make a big difference. And humans, who think their lives are at risk, are not known for their great decision making. You experienced that first-hand.”

“I'm sorry you got dragged into this. I truly am. I wasn't thinking when I took you with me, but I had to play along. I'm just trying to protect my kind.” John said, hoping Noah would understand.

“I'm not asking you to trust me and I'm not trying to gain anything from this, but please let me help you, at least until you're feeling better. You're more than welcome to go back to hating me after that. Just-”

“Could you just leave me alone?” Noah grumbled, no longer looking at him.

John sighed and stood up. This went as well as expected. But he knew he wouldn't achieve anything by force. All he could do was give Noah the time and space he needed and hope for the best.

Not much later, the soup was ready. John took a spoon and tasted it. It was not as good as he remembered it, but it was pretty decent, if you asked him. His mom would be impressed.

He went back to his nightstand to get Noah, who was asleep once again. John couldn't help but frown. The kid looked even smaller, curled up under the blanket like this.

So fragile.

Like he could actually break, if John wasn't careful. Instead of waking him up or picking him up, he carefully slid his hands under the pillow and carried it with Noah on top over to the table, where his meal already waited for him. The poor kid wasn't even aware of it.

Now came the hard part.

John sat down and gently nudged Noah's shoulder with his knuckle. Noah stirred a little but didn't wake up.

“Time to wake up, kid,” he whispered and nudged the kid again.

Thankfully, the boy's baby blue eyes finally blinked open. They were all glazed over, a far cry from the sharp gaze the kid usually had. It made something inside John's chest squeeze.

“Hey, I made you soup,” John said in a hushed tone.

“Not hungry” Noah mumbled and wanted to roll over, but John couldn't let him do that.

“Hey, none of that, you need to eat, if you wanna get better.”

John slipped his hand under Noah's back and guided him into a sitting position. He didn't pull his hand away though, the man doubted that the boy had enough strength to sit up on his own, with the way he was leaning against his palm.

“Work with me here, kid. Just a few spoons and then you can go back to sleep,” John scooped up some broth with his other hand and brought the spoon to Noah's lips. But all Noah did was turn his head away. John wondered if the boy was just trying to be difficult or if it was really this bad.

“Noah, you need to eat. Please,” John subconsciously started to rub Noah's shoulder with his thumb.

“And then you'll leave me alone?” At this moment Noah looked so much younger than fifteen. With his bleary eyes and frail voice. If John hadn't been worried before, he definitely would be now.

“Yeah, promise.” John gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. After another moment of hesitation, Noah finally opened his mouth.

“There we go,” John murmured, being visibly relieved about finally getting the kid to eat something. The process continued for a few minutes, with John whispering soft praises. He was able to feed Noah a few spoons, before the boy stopped to open his mouth, signaling that he had enough. He didn't eat much, but it was better than nothing. A few drops of broth dribbled down Noah's chin and John used the pad of his thumb to gently whip it away. The boy didn't even try to bat it away. At this point the poor kid could barely keep his eyes open.

John slowly lowered his hand down onto the pillow and pulled it out underneath Noah's back. As soon as his head hit the pillow the boy was out like a light again.

The man tucked him back in and let him sleep. Sleeping was probably the best for him right now. John debated on carrying the kid back to the nightstand, but decided against it. This way he could keep a better eye on the kid.

While Noah slept, John spent the rest of the day working on his newest little project, glancing over to where the human was laying from time to time. The piece of wood slowly but surely shaping into what he had in mind. Sure, he could be more productive, but John didn't have the heart to leave the sick child alone. He wanted to be nearby just in case he needed something, when he woke up.

He knew that it was very unlikely, but it was a possibility.

John had thought the silence would be a welcomed change, but it had the exact opposite effect. It filled him with dread. He would prefer it, if Noah kept insulting and glaring at him, if that meant the kid was feeling better. Seeing Noah being so still made him uneasy.

He glanced over again and saw that the kid was silently watching him, his eyes half-lidded, but awake nonetheless.

“Hey there, sleepy head. That cold took its toll on you, huh?” John looked at him with a sad smile.

“Been worse,” Noah said even though that was a complete and utter lie, he couldn't remember the last time he felt this awful.

He flinched when the man reached for him and placed his thumb on his forehead to feel his temperature again.

“Shh, I'm just checking.”

Maybe John was just imagining things, but to him it seemed like Noah was warmer than this morning. No wonder he was sleeping so much.

The man didn't pull his hand back right away. Instead he brushed his thumb over Noah's head a few times, almost tenderly stroking the hair out of his face. “See, everything is okay.”

Against Noah's will his eyes started to water, so he closed them. He couldn't remember the last time someone touched his head not to strike him. The gentle strokes felt so… good. Almost soothing his headache away. He could fall asleep like this.

But then the comforting touch was gone again.

Noah blamed his current state for wanting it back. How childish of him to even think such a thing. The fever was starting to mess with his head. Noah hoped this wouldn't last long.

“You can say it, y'know?” The boy rolled onto his back, so he didn't have to see John's face.

“Say what?”

“That it deserves me right for running away.” Noah just wanted to get this conversation out of the way.

There was a pause, then a sigh.

“Noah, believe it or not, but I don't enjoy seeing you like this. I really do want to help you. Here how about this, what would you usually do when you're sick?

“Working,” Noah answered dryly.

“You're kidding, right?” Noah's dead-pan expression told him otherwise.

“But didn't you say you're fifteen? I know I'm not a human expert, but I'm sure children aren't supposed to work.”

Noah scoffed at that.

“So? Money was always tight at the orphanage. And Miss Harris used to say, if I wasn't gonna be adopted, I could at least make myself useful.”

“Why would she say that?” The man asked quietly. Softly.

Noah let out a humorless laugh “Who would want a brat like me?” He almost wanted to turn his head to see the man's face, but decided it wasn't worth it. Then he added in a much softer voice, “And besides… I’m too old to be adopted anyway. People want the little kids, y’know the cute ones.” And with that he rolled over, signaling that their conversation was over.

Later that night, John was still sitting at the table, watching over Noah. Usually he went to bed relatively early, but worry kept him wide awake. His assumption had been correct. Noah's fever got worse. Through the day he had been drifting in and out of consciousness. Right now it seemed like he had settled in for the night, although it looked far from a peaceful slumber. The boy was curled up into a little ball and his brow was knitted in discomfort.

But that wasn't what had John worried.

In addition to the fever, Noah had started to have chills around noon, shivering under his blanket like a withered leaf in the wind, even after John had put more wood into the fire. It even seemed like the shivering just got worse the more time went by. John was running out of ideas. He couldn't just go to bed and leave the kid like this. Then an idea crossed his mind. Maybe it was stupid, but it couldn't hurt to try.

John gently rubbed Noah's shoulder to see if he would wake up. Luckily, the kid remained asleep. John took a breath and carefully scooped Noah up in his hand, who was not happy about being disturbed and the loss of his blanket. The kid started to stir, a quiet whimper escaping him. John quickly shushed him, silently praying that Noah wouldn't wake up. “Shh, I know, I know. Just sleep, everything is okay.” Thankfully that seemed to work and Noah settled down again. John just hoped it stayed that way, because there was no way the kid would let him do this if he was awake.

John placed the boy in the crook of his arm, if the fire wasn't working, maybe body heat would. Just when he pulled his hand away, Noah's face scrunched up. John wanted to kick himself for thinking this would work, an excuse already forming on his lips, but to John's surprise Noah didn't wake up.

No, quite the opposite actually. He rolled over, now facing John's torso, and curled up. John didn't dare to move. Or breath. He let a few moments pass to see if the kid really wasn't going to wake up. But even after several minutes Noah remained asleep.

This was… unexpected.

Unfortunately, the kid was still shivering. But maybe if he…? John knew he was pushing his luck, but still lowered his hand again, cupping it behind Noah's back, providing warmth from both sides. Absent-mindedly John started to stroke his thumb over Noah's back. Soon the shivering stopped and for the first time Noah's body seemed to relax, his troubled expression slowly melting away, and turning into something softer, still not fully relaxed but much more at ease.

It was hard to believe that this boy was the same one that had yelled at him yesterday. The boy had never let his guard down. Always ready to fight or flight. Always on alert. It made John's heart sink, that this was the only time the kid was this calm around him.

It was easy to forget just how young Noah was. But right now you could see past the mask he was wearing. With him being sick and John holding him like this. The man being well aware that he was holding Noah in a way someone would hold a child much younger than him.

He was just a kid. A kid that went through a lot already.

There was this tight feeling inside his chest again, but he ignored it.

Just when John wanted to relax now that the shivering had stopped, the kid began to move again.

The man, already fearing the worst, prepared himself to be cussed out.

Imagine his surprise when all the kid did was nestle closer to him, burying himself deeper into the warmth. And to top it off he grabbed his shirt in a loose fist and let out a content little sigh.

For a moment everything stilled.

John couldn't believe that really just happened. The kid was seriously snuggling up to him, even if it was just to seek warmth. Or maybe there was more to it.

But now was not the time to think about it.

Instead John went back to stroking Noah's back, while his shocked face turned into a fond smile. Under different circumstances he would consider this the most adorable thing he has seen in his entire life. But he knew if it weren't for Noah's bad state of health, this would have never happened. The kid still hated his guts.

And yet…

“And you say you're not cute,” John chuckled quietly, shaking his head.

The man leaned back in his chair, making himself more comfortable. Looks like he was going to sit here a little longer.

Though, John found that he didn't really mind.

Taglist: @da3dm @himbogiants @coffehbeans @mehs-mini-magic

#giant/tiny #g/t #g/t community #g/t writing #OC: Noah #OC: John #my-writing-jar #parental g/t #gtwac #gtwac day 21 #if i don't get any comments i'm gonna cry /hj

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