"A viral infectious disease of the upper respiratory tract that primarily affects the nose. The throat, sinuses, and larynx may also be affected. Signs and symptoms may appear less than two days after exposure to the virus. These may include coughing, sore throat, runny nose, sneezing, headache, and fever. People usually recover in seven to ten days, but some symptoms may last up to three weeks. Occasionally those with other health problems may develop pneumonia…"

"Aaa… Aaa… Aaaaaaaaa…"

Nothing.

"…AAAHHHCHOOOO!"

Yeah… Stating the facts didn't stop it from sucking.

Velma Dinkley reached for another tissue, carefully and methodically blew her nose, making sure not to get further infected, before finally dropping it into a half full nylon bag she would later tie up and throw away.

Covered adequately, a throat lozenge and a cold pill already taken, and perfectly hydrated, Velma had nothing more she could do to recover.

Logically, she had done all she could do, and she was satisfied.

But emotionally…

"This freakin' sucks…"

Velma knew that it was futile to complain, and the scientific side of her brain tried to sooth her with this, but it didn't stop Velma from hating every second of this infuriating illness.

Her eyes were sunken and tired (which wasn't a major change, but still hurt), her chest felt tight and her legs could not move from fatigue. Her nose was working overtime to annoy her, and her hands could barely move either, which made reading a book taxing, and that was before you included the concentration problems.

Normally, Velma's mind was organized and through, like a public library managed only by herself; every thought was organized alphabetically and properly, every idea carefully researched and selected. It was a compendium of calculations, and Velma wouldn't have had it any other way.

But today, she could barely string two thoughts together, which made the aforementioned reading, alongside any documentary watching and music listening utterly pointless.

Sighing out of boredom, frustration and pain, Velma realized she was thirsty, and that her 8th bottle of water was done.

"Goody! I could use the exercise!", Velma self depracted, before coughing up some flem. "Gross…", she commented, wiping it with a tissue and getting into her slippers, covered in an orange bath robe from when she had showered.

Taking a moment to settle her head, she looked to the side and observed her bed side cabinet; it was normal, as most things in her house were, but with the added benefit of reminding her she wasn't so goddamn lonely.

A book on chess strategies that had been read so many times its pages were nearly bent (something Velma normally viewed as sacrilege) had been a perfect gift from Fred Jones. The two had their differences, but when it came to solving a problem through logic and traps, well, they were like to minds in one. And Fred was fun to play against, challenging but cordial in defeat, something Velma… Struggled with.

Next to it lay another book, the musical book specifically of Frankenstine The Musical. Velma wasn't big on theatre or on musicals in general, but once Daphne Blake had heard that her bestie's favorite book was Frankenstine, she just HAD to buy it for her. Velma appreciated the gift, because while she found it a little tacky, the fact that Daphne even bothered to think of her meant a lot. It was definitely a better gift than the off season clothes Velma had bought her once (Daphne hadn't minded, but Velma sure did).

Standing in the middle of the desk, proud and true, was a photograph. Velma had long since vacated the photograph position for… Familial reasons, and she was more than happy to have this photograph there, but not just because of her family. Shaggy Rogers was a very confusing individual still for Velma, in all manners of friendship, normalcy, and feelings Velma did NOT have time to address now, but one thing she was certain about was that he cared for her. I mean, when one bakes a 7 ton vanilla cake shaped like her favorite star, Altair, well… Yeah.

Yeah indeed.

Trying to ignore the pang of guilt she had about shutting down Shaggy's interests in the past, Velma moved on to the last gift: A box of Scooby snacks. Sure, it was a dog treat she had no intention of eating, but Scooby was a dog, she didn't expect much.

It was the circumstance of the giving that made it special; Velma's fear of clowns had nearly debilitated her a few months ago when the gang had faced the Ghost Clown, and she had been hyperventilating like mad, having an anxiety attack when they had arrived to rescue her.

So much had happened that evening that it was almost fuzzy at times, but Velma could never forget Scooby offering her his snacks to fight her fear, as she had done so many times in the past since he was a puppy.

Velma had to fight tears now, which only made her feel worse: Emotions weren't like numbers, or clues, or even stars. They didn't have one answer, they didn't have logical pathways, they were tangled webs of feelings and mistakes and regret.

And Velma had no intention to solve this mystery.

But at the same time, it meant so much to her that her friends truly cared for her.

It didn't kill the loneliness, or the sickness, but it did distract from it, if only for a moment.

Velma tried then to raise the strength to even get up, but thankfully she didn't need for long.

DING DONG!

"Velma? Don't worry, we're not here to kill you!"

Velma rolled her eyes affectionately in synchronization with Daphne smacking Fred on the back of his head. Only Fred could say something like that and still be rightfully considered smart. "Freddie! Use your head!"

"To carry all this?", Fred jested, and Daphne couldn't help but laugh as she called out "Velma, don't worry, it's just us!"

"I wasn't expecting a visit…", she thought, not minding it of course, just finding it rather odd. "I guess it can't hurt though."

Getting her slippers on, Velma shuffled to her door and opened it, expecting the ever usual creek that accompanied it and the oak tree brown corridor that was her hallway in the downstairs bedroom.

Instead, however, Velma found someone blocking the door and getting hurt.

"OWW! I'M UP! I'M UP!", Shaggy called, standing up and rubbing his aching head. "Zoinks, Velma, I didn't mean to fall asleep, sorry!"

Velma had seen many odd sights in her life, but none quite as surprised her as the sight of her best friend standing in her house having apparently been sleeping next to her door. Her mind raced for a logical explanation, but truth be told, there wasn't: Shaggy had left with the others when she had fallen asleep last night, surely?

Shaggy got a little sheepish (he even seemed to be blushing a bit) as he followed the still dumbstruck Velma who was opening the door to her house. "Like, uh… I know this looks bad, but…"

The door opened, Fred, Daphne and Scooby burst in, all warm smiles, only to be surprised by Velma's presence in the hallway.

"Oh BABY you better get back in bed this instant!", Daphne got all maternal, which made the rest of the gang affectionately eye roll, and then she, Fred and Scooby all gave Shaggy unimpressed looks.

"Like, what did I do?", Shaggy asked, confused, and before Velma could ask why Shaggy was outside her door, which she felt was a little more pressing, Fred gave the answer.

"Shag, why did you let Velms open the door? We put you here for the night for a reason!", Fred told his friend off, but in more of a "Try not to do that again" voice than a disappointed one.

"Reah, Rou Rere Rupposed Ro Ruard Rer!", Scooby added, crossing his arms with a raised eyebrow.

Velma felt herself get even warmer than usual, and Daphne, putting a hand to her forehead, said "Velma's fever is getting worse, quick!"

Practically carrying her to bed (which Velma did not like), the gang tucked her in and all smiled encouragingly as she observed them all. Daphne was removing a stack of recently purchased enyclopedias, Fred was asking Shaggy if he had prepared the thermos of soup correctly, Shaggy congratulated Fred and kept stealing glances at her, Scooby was lying next to her to keep her warm… It was almost too much, it couldn't be real!

"Am I hallucinating? Maybe my fever IS getting worse!", Velma commented, and she felt her forehead, but suddenly Shaggy removed the hand and held it softly in his palm, which made her blush. His hand was always softer than she remembered, just like the homecoming dance.

Smiling softly, with sparkling eyes that seemed so earnest, Shaggy replied "Velma, we're no hallucination. We're, like, the cure!"

Fred, Daphne, and Scooby all quickly added their agreements, and Velma quickly reached a conclusion: Her friends truly cared for her.

It had taken her a while to realize that, and she had been sure of it a few months ago, but now she was certain.

…So that's what it feels like. Huh. Not half bad, she thought.

"So… You feeling better?", the gang all asked at the same time.

Sitting up, smiling softly, Velma felt her heart settle for the first time in her life.

"…I am now."