Chapter Text
Sickness.
It happened often in this realm. The Spectre found it hilarious, watching the survivors stumble around with a headache or stomach pains.
Though, it didn't want them..
this incapacitated.
‘This’ being the terrors that the infamous Guest 1337 were experiencing currently.
Yes. That one.
The very much needed sentinel.
Spawn, it seemed like he was rotting from the inside with the amount of blood and unknown clumps coming from his mouth.
×∆••••< 🍔 🪖 >••••∆×
007n7 groaned, very obviously exasperated, tail thumping restlessly against the wooden floors of his (half-decayed) cabin. He’s already tried quite literally everything he could, using every cleaning product this hell had in stock to try and keep his cabin in..
Good enough condition.
He needed something to do,
someone to care for.
He knew Guest was sick.
He just couldn't do anything, as the others kept him at least 5 metres away, and it was
Pissing.
Him.
Off.
They knew he use- no, he has a child.
They knew he had these instincts.
Especially Elliot, and Guest himself for that matter, being a family man of his own.
Fine.
Fine.
Fine!
If they don't let him near Guest, he’ll do it himself!
×∆••••< 🍔 🪖 >••••∆×
007n7 had made it outside of Guest’s cabin, timing it just right to make sure that there wasn’t anyone watching over him.
He had a spare bucket, some Chamomile tea and toast cut into ‘Soldiers’¹ (no pun intended) with a small bowl of soup in the middle of the plate.
The average meal your parents give you when you're sick, known to be able to stomach easily.
And yes, he was using the all-known powers of single fatherhood to balance those all without them crashing to the floor.
7n7 pushed the door open with his back, turning around once it was open. He was met with the sight of Guest laying there with an absolutely depressing expression.
“H-hey.. Guest..”
The mentioned war veteran looked up, a small smile at the corners of his mouth before falling almost immediately at the oncoming wave of nausea from the shine of the moon directed right at his eyes through the door.
That look.
Seven knew immediately.
He slid over to place the tea and food on the bed-side table, scooting the full bucket out the way, grimicing at its insides, as he placed the other, clean one, right beside his bed as he threw up again.
Guest’s throat burned, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.
007n7 put Guest’s hair into a small man-bun, patting his back.
×∆••••< 🍔 🪖 >••••∆×
007n7 had stayed with Guest for about 2 hours now.
About 10 minutes after he had initially arrived at the cabin, Chance had walked in, as it was their time to stay for the hour.
Though when he saw 007n7 there, and the stare he gave them was quite enough for him to quickly close the door and speed-walk back to the main cabin, goosebumps along his skin and sweat beading down their neck.
A bit later, Shedletsky attempted to go down, though he couldn't even get one step out the door before Chance quickly dragged him back.
Elliot had thankfully explained the Papa Seven instincts when he knew someone was sick (staying with the sick for the night, or until they were better, and not letting anyone they deemed unqualified into the sick's mutually agreed space), and that put an end to that.
×∆••••< 🍔 🪖 >••••∆×
Right now, 7n7 was sat on a chair beside Guest’s bed.
Guest had a weighted blanket on, a few large glasses of water now in his stomach, after being on the receiving-end of Seven's worried look after he realized not nearly enough water was in him.
He was now asleep, and 007n7 finally deemed him ok, for now, and left the room, his GUI horns scraping against the doorframe, as he was more focused on looking back at Guest, before closing the door and padding back to his cabin, a dewy tail and a job well-done following after him.
¹ A soldier is a thin strip of toasted bread, reminiscent of a soldier on parade. The shape lends itself to dipping into a soft-boiled egg that has had the top removed.