Chapter Text
When that earliest alarm went off, you knew it was going to be a God awful day.
You rushed to the bathroom several times in your slog to get ready for the day. Betelgeuse made his presence apparent on your 7th trip.
“Babes… you need to stay in today.”
“I can’t, Beej. I have to go to work.”
“Do you humans really insist on showing up to the job half dead?? Geez, I at least have sick day coverage.”
You slumped against the porcelain throne, no doubt the picture of beauty and grace. “Maybe you’re right. Can you had me my…” you paused to belch, lovely, “Phone?”
“Don’t worry about it, your Monster has this covered.” The moldy teddy bear insisted, patting back your sweaty hair and nicking your cellphone from your back pocket with ease.
You could only vaguely hear him making the calls in a perfect mimic of your voice.
…
Day one proved to be mild compared to day two.
You were hot and cold all at once. Couldn’t even find the muscle strength to leave your bed. Beej took your phone without even asking this time. Which you couldn’t even arse yourself to be upset with or even indignant about.
“Do you need soup? Or tea?” He asked, as a flurry of white swept his hair like a snowstorm, something that you had nearly forgotten was possible from him in all of your dizzy random napping.
“That would be nice, thanks B.”
“You got it, sweets.”
Sure enough, you got soup and tea. And it helped. Until it didn’t.
…
Day three you were adamant about getting up and going to work. Now was about the time they started getting testy about the sick calls. Questioning your work ethic like they’d never been sick a day in their lives. Beej was sleeping and snoring like a jet engine.
You almost got off scot free. Until like a disappointing mother, you found him with his hip cocked in the doorway leading from your room to the main room.
“Bug, I gotta go.” You pleaded, “They’ll fire me if I don’t go to work.”
“They can’t do that.” The monster defended, cleaning out one of his nails with a pointed tooth. “I asked about their policies yesterday.”
“All three?”
Beej waggled his eyebrows. “Do I look like an amateur babes? I even called as your doctor to get you a couple more days before you need a note.”
“I… don’t have a doctor.”
“They don’t need to know that!” Beej reassured and chastised simultaneously, shoving you back to your bed. “Now lie down! I’m getting you more soup.”
When you tried to fight him, he full on bridal carried you and plopped you down on your mattress.
Couldn’t argue with that, you supposed.
You let him take care of you, watching the pink wash away the stripes of stark white all the while.