Title: Misery Loves Company
Author: Del March
Rating: PG
Genres: Hurt/Comfort, budding friendship, slight crack
This story contains: slight fever-induced OOCness
Characters: Ayasegawa Yumichika, Hisagi Shuuhei, mentions of the rest of the gang
Word count: 521
Summary: Being sick sucks. Being alone and sick sucks even more. Luckily, one of these problems can be solved.
A/N: This was written for the Hurt/Comfort Bingo challenge on LJ. The prompt was "fever/delirium".
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach nor its characters which all belong to Kubo Tite, and I am making no money from writing this fic.
Misery Loves Company
Yumichika felt utterly miserable as Ikkaku nearly ran away from the Fourth Division with a quick wave of his hand over his shoulder, and a hurried explanation. "Sorry, mate, don't wanna catch it too. See ya when yer better!" And that was it. Yumichika was all alone in Fourth, with a back that was killing him no matter which posture he adopted, and a head that felt like it had been stuffed with heavy cotton, and a body which could not decide whether it was too cold or too hot. His life sucked.
Well, strictly speaking, he was not exactly alone. In fact, he was not alone at all; the Fourth Division was crammed full of people suffering from the same epidemic fever which had caught him. But none of these patients were friends of his, so as far as he was concerned, he was alone. He knew a few of his subordinates had to be somewhere around, but the last thing he wanted was for them to see him in such a pitiful state. He had a hard enough time maintaining the respect they owed him as it was.
He knew it was very uncharitable to wish such a misery on anyone else, but he could not help but yearn for the presence of Ikkaku, or Renji, or Iba-san, or Matsumoto - or anyone he liked well enough. Why had they all escaped the stupid virus, but he had to fall for it? This was not fair! A bit desperately, he trailed his blurry gaze across the crowded triage hall, hoping against hope for a familiar face to stand out somehow...
He blinked, and then squinted; a well-known set of scars and tattoos was slowly making its way in his general direction. He tried to stand up, but his wobbly legs refused to hold. He tried to call, but his raw throat rebelled in agony. He could only watch as Hisagi Shuuhei walked, zombie-like, through the crowd. If eyes could shoot beams, then Yumichika's would have been drilling holes in Hisagi's face.
His heart beat painfully in his tight chest when feverish, tired-looking green eyes glanced his way and Hisagi stopped in his tracks. Please, please let the lieutenant come to him! Yumichika did not want to be alone... A small smile stretched his cracked lips when Hisagi veered and shuffled towards him.
"Mov'er." Clearly, Hisagi could no more speak than Yumichika did, but Yumichika was only too happy to slide against the wall so the lieutenant could flop next to him. And then, because he was too tired to care about appearances or pretenses or anything, Yumichika laid his head on the bony shoulder next to him, and closed his eyes.
He smiled as he felt a blanket being spread over them both, before a nose and a cheek parked themselves in his hair. His back was still killing him, his throat was still on fire, his head was heavier than ever, and being so close to another body only increased his hot flashes - but at least he was not alone any more as he drifted off to an uneasy, delirious sleep.
xx The End xx