Archive of Our Own ^beta

Mira had always been good at reading people.

It's something she has always known. She could tell when event staff were secretly stopping themselves from enthusing over them, could tell when an interviewer genuinely could not care less about their job, and could tell when fans were thinking about getting a bit too touchy with her or the other girls at meet and greets. And she had ways to deal with all of it- a quick exchange of words and a gifted bracelet, matching lackluster energy with her natural flat affect and indifference, purposefully stepping on toes in spite of her being known for her footwork. 

Rumi was always bad at reading people, but in turn she was hard to read herself. It bothered Mira (more than) a bit- that one of her most important people had such high walls, and wouldn't lower them even for Mira. They'd known each other for 5 years- but Rumi still didnt share everything with them. But she did know some things- knows Rumi loves them fiercely, that she would put herself on the line first so they could do their jobs right- both as idols and as hunters. Rumi gave all of herself to their purpose, and all her love followed. Mira knows this, even with how hard she is to get a read on.

Zoey, on the other hand, was an open book.

Their youngest certainly had a role that she played in public- but she also really was the heart of the team. Their glue, their laughter, the one who always got them to talk it out, who facilitated all their group bonding- not just the stuff on stage either, but in their downtime. The one that was quick to beatbox for Rumi’s absentminded singing in the kitchen. Who would lean towards Mira with genuine interest when she was trying her ideas for new choreo, in a way her family never had. Zoey was so open with her- everything. She made it ridiculously easy for Mira to read her (for Mira to love her).

So when she got sick, Mira noticed almost immediately.

Not that Zoey was subtle about it.

They had just a few more performances before their hiatus- Golden was in the final stages of production. Rumi and Zoey were already collapsed on the couch after a dress rehearsal when Mira returned from her room, Rumi cracking open a strawberry soda. Zoey wasn't touching any of her snacks yet, the youngest just leaning her head against the back of the couch and taking some shallow breaths. Chin tilted up, eyes closed. Quiet. 

This was the first clue. Mira couldn't think of something more unlike Zoey.

Rumi clearly thought the same. She reached for the remote and muted the TV- something about odd animal couples that was clearly Zoey's choice. 

“Hey, Z.” She started. “You doing alright? Want me to open anything for you?” 

Zoey jolted as if she'd been dozing off, head blearily turning towards where Rumi had put her hand on a robed shoulder- Mira stalked closer, to get a better look at the shorter girl. They’d all taken their makeup off- and Zoey looked pale. Out of the three of them, Zoey was the most sunkissed from growing up in California (Mira and Rumi had spoken at length about her freckles), but now even her light tan looked washed out. 

“What?” Zoey was blinking a little too fast. “Oh, yeah- I'm all good here! Pretty as a clam!” This caught Mira off guard- Zoey too. They made eye contact as Zoey seemed to process what she had said.

“...no. That was wrong, wasn't it?” 

Mira couldn't hold back her laughter. Rumi was smothering hers in a couch cushion.

“Hey, hey, stop! You know that's not what I meant! I mean- it kinda is, but i just combined some stuff by accident? You know, pretty as a peach? Happy as a clam? I just got comfy guys, cut me some slack-”

“No, no, we get it Zo,” Mira closed the last few feet to the couch, smiling teasingly at her, “we just can't believe that you said you're as pretty as a clam. That's going to be your new contact, by the way.”

“Ugh. Stoppp.” Zoey seemed to melt into the cushions, hands coming up to palm her blushing face. “Im just tired, and I used all my good word juice at the rehearsal.”

“Can’t believe we let someone who says ‘good word juice’ write all the songs” Rumi remarked, straightening the couch up again. Zoey picked up a cushion to swing at her, which Rumi dodged without even looking. It was a pretty weak swing, to be fair. Zoey normally has better aim.

 Mira slid down to the open spot on Zoey's other side, sprawling out as wide as possible. It was good to stretch- and gave her an easy excuse to throw an arm around the songwriter afterward. The younger girl squawked as she was pulled in. She only struggled a bit, before stilling as Mira used this position to place a hand on the back of her neck, probing. 

Mira immediately dropped the banter. “Zoey. You're in trouble. We’ve talked about this.”

Rumi turned back to them, interested in the pivot of conversation.

“Zoey’s burning up” The pink haired gilr offered in explanation. “Definitely a fever.”

“Will you--get off!” Zoey shoved Mira away, standing up quickly- maybe too quick. Mira reached out to steady her as she swayed forward and back and forward again.

“Okay well- I was going to say I'm fine but I just got really dizzy, actually,” Zoey said. “So I'm just- I'm gonna sit back down, now.”

Mira cleared some snacks that had toppled over as Zoey didn’t so much as sit as collapsed back onto the couch. Rumi scooted closer on Zoeys other side, hand coming up to press the back of her hand to her forehead. Zoey tried to shrink away from the contact (so unlike her, Mira knew something was wrong) but the movement seemed halfhearted. Zoey’s eyes were dazed, still clearly dizzy. 

Rumi hummed, displeased. “Zo, you’ve gotta tell us when you’re not feeling well. We never want a repeat of the streetfood incident again.” 

“Its not-”

“Don’t you dare say ‘that bad’”, Mira cut in. “We know you too well. Plus, your skin's basically the surface of the sun right now. You're going right to bed, and we are gonna get you all the drugs. It’ll be great. You’ll love it. Don’t argue.”

Zoey didn't argue, and that was yet another flag. She just sighed, and turned to cuddle up closer to Mira, eyes slipping shut.

“Fine. But you’ll have to carry me.” And then, quieter, “.. don't know if i’m steady enough to walk there.” 

Mira looked up, meeting Rumi's eyes. The leader’s brow pinched, lips a thin line- Mira could read her easily, for once. The singer was just as concerned as she was.

“Alright, Zo. On three?”

………

After brushing Zoey’s hair out for her, and settling the youngest in Rumi's bed, the two older girls conferred in the main bathroom. Mira rummaged for the medications under the sink. They used the meds a lot less than they used the bandages and antiseptic, so the cold and flu supplies were lost in the back. 

“Her fevers gotta be high, with how warm she felt,” Rumi was saying, “Damn, poor girl. She didn't even ask for her phone, if she's not feeling good enough to doomscroll-”

“Found it!” Mira triumphantly raised the medication bag, delicately extracting her torso from under the sink. She opened the bag and started looking through it. “Any idea what her symptoms are?”

“Might as well bring the whole bag back to the room. We can just ask her.” Mira hummed in response. 

“We should also think about cancelling our press event tomorrow. Zoey won’t be up for it- plus we don’t want to get the crew sick.” Mira said it casually, leading the way out the bathroom. She was watching Rumi out of the corner of her eye though- saw her hesitate a step behind.

“Mir…. but we’re getting so close to the golden honmoon. We gotta keep up the momentum-”

“Zoey is sick, Rumi. She is sick enough that she can't stand. She'd push through it if she could- you and I have both seen her do that, even when she shouldn’t. You know that. The honmoon can go one day without us.” Mira turned to face her fully, walking backwards a few steps, eyes narrowed. “You need to get your priorities straight.” 

From here, Mira could see Rumi building her walls again- saw her tug her sleeve, avert her eyes, bring one hand up to rub at the sweater covering her shoulders. Brick by brick, Rumi sealed herself off. 

(Mira just wanted them to be a family.)

“...yeah, okay.” Rumi didn't meet her eyes- Mira could tell she was reluctant to concede. “You’re right, probably.”

Mira turned back around to hide how she squeezed her eyes shut. They were back to Rumi’s room, anyway- she took a deep breath, and opened the door without saying another word to her.

----

Zoey was curled into herself, only the top of her head peaking out above the covers. She'd already made a mess of the usually meticulous room- pillows making some kind of nest, blankets piled high and haphazard- it was a pretty warm summer night. Zoey must be chilled by the fever.  

“Hey, Zo,” Mira said, stepping in, “We’ve got the drugs.”

A muffled groan from the bed was her response. Mira strode closer and sat on the edge of it, peeling back the many blankets carefully. Zoeys eyes met hers with a halfhearted glare.

“... the good stuff?”

“Only the best for you,” Mira shook out some assorted fever medications into her palm, placing the water on the bedside table. Rumi had walked to the other side of the bed and sat opposite of Mira. 

“How are you feeling, Zo?”

The youngest was a bit preoccupied shuffling upright. Mira noted the shake of her arms supporting her, and reached out to help guide her up. Zoey had to catch her breath for a moment before answering.

“Not too solid, actually? Um, I think my joints have aged about 60 years in the last few hours, my muscles think I just ran an ultramarathon, my back aches, I’ve been trying not to cough all day….” Mira hates it when Zoey cries. It gets her every time. Her eyes started tearing up sympathetically as Zoey’s breath caught unevenly. Mira started to run the hand still on Zoey’s shoulder up and down in what she imagined was a soothing gesture. Mira hadn't really been on the receiving end of such a motion, growing up- she hoped she was doing it right. 

“...and I’m so cold!” She finished, hunching forward. Her shoulder jerked, and Mira’s heart ached. Zoey must have been trying to push through this all day. 

“Shhhh, shhh, it's okay. We've got you, sweetheart.” Mira knows Rumi had some of the same issues she did growing up, but she always seemed able to give physical comfort so much more naturally. Zoey soaks it up like a sponge, leaning into Rumi’s arm that has now wrapped around her back, running up and down her spine.  

Rumi sucks in a breath through her teeth- had her canines always been that sharp?- as she pulls Zoey tight to her. 

The youngest is still trying to get herself together.

“Sorry-I’m sorry,” She wipes her sleeve across her face messily, groaning when it comes away with snot, “and I’m so gross!”

Rumi presses a kiss to the side of Zoey’s head, but Zoey hardly noticed, having locked onto the pills in Mira’s waiting palm. 

Mira handed them over, and the water, and both disappeared in seconds. Zoey choked only slightly on it. 

The room is quiet for a beat, aside from some sniffling. 

“.... if you guys let me take more nyquil, I’ve heard I could see the hatman. Plus then I can be even less awake, which sounds great.” Zoe murmurs. As an afterthought, “Sorry we had to cancel movie night.”

Mira takes a moment to process this. Then decides to ignore most of it. 

“You can make it up to us by sticking this thing under your tongue.” Mira waves a thermometer in the air in front of Zoey. The songwriter makes a face at it. It's Rumi who leans forward with a sigh, when Zoey acts like the thermometer has threatened her. She grabs the device from Mira, places a firm hand under Zoeys jaw and tilts her until their eyes meet again. 

“Come on, be a good girl for us.”

Mira is pretty sure that Zoey was flushed before from the fever, but there are good odds now that she's flushed for an entirely different reason. Mira decides that she should busy herself and shut the blinds while she recovers from hearing Rumi say that. She could be so oblivious sometimes. While she preoccupies herself, feeling her own blush cool, the sounds of the thermometer beeping goes off behind her. Zoey groans, and Rumi clicks her tongue against her teeth. 

“Alright. I’m calling Bobby to cancel our things tomorrow.”

She hadn’t already planned to?

Mira shook her head to clear it. Rumi seemed to be allergic to listening to her, but at least she agrees now. “What’s the damage?”

Zoey’s voice is muffled from where she's already retreated back under the covers. “102.8 F.”

Mira blinks, “Why is the thermometer in Fahrenheit?”

“Its Zoey’s, from the States.”

“Ah.” A pause, as some mental math took place. “Wait. That’s, like, really high isn't it?”

“It’s not great, no.”

“I’m dying!” Zoeys voice reaches them from under the mountain of blankets. “The only thing that can cure me is if we visit the aquarium next week. Or more nyquil.”

Rumi is already shaking her head, “Be serious, Zo. That's borderline hospital temps- do you need anything else? Any idea where you caught it from? Want us to run a cool bath, or get you tea, or maybe- we can order soup? Soup is good for this, right? Or-” A distinct sniffle from the blanket fort interrupts Rumi’s fumbling attempt to help. 

“...I just want to go to the aquarium. And I want to be warm.” It's a whine, which isn’t unusual from Zoey- but it's far more genuine than usual. 

Mira sighs as she sinks back down onto the mattress, hand finding what she thinks is Zoey’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. 

“Can’t do the aquarium just yet, love. We gotta get you better first. So: Rums is gonna order soup, we'll get a cloth to try and cool you down a bit- and I’m sorry, I know you're cold, but your fever’s really high and we have to watch out for that.” Mira had to raise her voice a bit to power through Zoey's moan at the idea of cooling down. She looked up to Rumi across from her, speaking without words. The eldest obliges, her braid swaying behind her as she leaves to order delivery- Mira hopes she can get some of her anxious energy out in the kitchen, or at least on the phone. Rumi always liked doing something when she was upset. Mira is worried about the high fever now, too, but Zoey needs them both to be normal about it. She coaxes the blankets down from around Zoeys head cautiously, like she would for a cornered animal. Zoey’s bitten them before, always playfully, but sometimes it did hurt. 

The youngest mumbles in protest, but she looks too sick to fight it. Now that Mira’s called her out and she's finally horizontal, it's like the illness crashed over the dark haired girl all at once- Zoeys eyes noticeably bloodshot, skin blotchy with heat on her cheeks and neck but scarily pallid everywhere else. It makes the shadows under her eyes more noticeable. Mira leaned forward to smooth Zoeys bangs down again, needing to do something while she waits- and frowned at the sounds of her wheezing. Zoey’s exhales had a slight whistle to them, something that put Mira instantly on edge. 

“That doesn’t sound good, Zo,” She says, hand tightening on her shoulder once more. “ Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Zoey blinks at her for a second before she complies- she's not even fully inhaled before she shoots up, deep, chest rattling coughs wracking her small frame. Mira instantly feels guilt.

“Sorry! Sorry, Zo- it’s ok, you’re okay. Just- take it easy.” But Zoey’s coughing doest let up, she really had been holding it in all day. They sound like they're coming from down low in her chest, coughs so deep that Zoey is fighting to wheeze in breaths between them. Like the air in her lungs is thicker. The force of them is literally shaking the bed.  Miras worry grows in tandem with the length of the fit, and she glances around the room, like there was something that could help. Wait- actually, “Got a water right here for you, Zo, when you're ready- there you go, easy, easy…” Mira helps guide the water to Zoeys mouth, her slim shoulder still jerking with suppressed coughs. Miras hands are shaking a bit too, but she doubts Zoey noticed. Mira watches with wide eyes as Zoey tries to catch her breath around the drink- and Mira acknowledges that while she was frustrated and worried earlier- she's scared now.

Mira waits for Zoey’s breathing to even out- it doesn't fully, the wheeze far more pronounced now. 

“Shit Zo, I didn’t think- I’m so sorry for suggesting that.” Mira helps her lay back down, one hand scrambling to pull some pillows into place so her torso is propped up more. Zoey brings a palm up to massage her throat, eyes bleary with tears.

“It's fine.” She rasps, and both she and Mira make a face at how destroyed her voice now sounds. “Can I…get tea?” She pants a bit, even getting that short sentence out. Mira’s unease grows. 

“Rum's already on it, I think.” Mira figures that's why she's been gone so long, at least, but she shoots off a text just in case. Zoey flops fully into the pillows, glassy gaze fixed on the ceiling as she tries to get a deep breath without actually breathing too deeply. Mira watches that paradox for a few quiet minutes, heart aching. Zoey looks so sick.

Rumi makes her re-entrance just a bit later, tray piled with three mugs and some crackers. Mira feels her fondness for her overwhelm the annoyance from earlier, especially when Rumi sets a ginger and lemon on the bedside table for Zoey, but passes Mira her favorite spiced orange blend. 

“Hey,” she says, settling back down on the bed. “I’ve ordered some pho from the Vietnamese place down the block- should be here in 20, I asked the doorman to send it up.” The purple haired girl frowns as she takes in the scene fully, Mira thinks she's probably picking up on the wheezing. “You okay Zo?”.  

Zoey just gives a slight shake of her head, squeezing her eyes shut as she tries to keep her breathing shallow. Mira answers for her, instead.

“Pretty nasty cough just made its first appearance.” She says, aiming for casual. Aiming to misdirect from the panic she felt in the moments Zoey wasn’t breathing right. “Thanks for bringing the tea- it did a number on her throat.” Mira paused to take a sip out of her own mug. “Thanks for mine, too.” 

Rumi just offers her a closed lip smile before leaning down to -what? “What are you doing?” Mira asks, confused at Rumi hovering her head sideways over Zoey’s chest. The sick girl cracks an eye open to check what was going on, but doesn't move otherwise. Rumi just shushes them, then a look of focus slides over her. (Mira loves this look- Rumi gets the cutest wrinkle between her manicured brows. If she's extra dialed in, she’ll even bite her lower lip in concentration. Learning these little things about her girls is one of Mira’s greatest pleasures in life.)

After a few seconds of nothing but whistling breath in the room, Rumi pulls back with a frustrated shake of her head. “Sorry, thought I might be able to hear if something was going on in her lungs. Don’t really know what I’m listening for, though.”

Several responses come to Mira then- Your hearing is good but it can’t be that good-yeah, obviously, were idols not medical professionals- I think the wheeze is proof enough, what more are you looking for?- But she brushes them all aside. Rumi is just trying to help, and Zoey has never liked it when they are mean to each other in front of her. Plus, Rumi brought her tea.

Instead, she pivots. 

“Feeling up for the tea now, Zoey?”

Zoeys eyes are still half lidded- though she had asked for the tea just minutes ago, she shakes her head and rolls on her side, pulling the blankets tighter around her. Rumi and Mira meet each other's gaze across the room. 

“That's alright, baby. It’ll be here when you're ready. I brought that cool cloth too- and I'm sorry, but we should get you out of those blankets.” Zoey is already shaking her head. Rumi powers through. “Your fever really is too high Zo, we gotta cool you down. Sorry, I know, I’m sorry.”

Together, her and Mira reach out and start peeling back the layers of blankets. Mira thought Rumi only had a few in her room- she doesn't know where Zoey found the rest of these. The raven haired girl lets them, but curls tighter into herself once exposed. God, she's so small. Mira forgets sometimes how much shorter Zoey is than the two of them- not when her personality is usually the loudest in the room. She can see the goosebumps that have erupted all across Zoey’s skin, can even see the shaking in her shoulders and hands from the chill only she can feel. 

Rumi places the washcloth on Zoeys temple- or tries to. The second the cool fabric touches her skin, Zoey flinches away, eyes shooting open and sucking in a sharp gasp. The gasp was a mistake though- it catches almost immediately, coughs choking the youngest as she tries to push herself up to fight them. Mira feels her earlier fear roll back in like the tide- especially when Zoey’s arms buckle, and she nearly collapses back to the bed before Mira grabs her under the shoulder to keep her upright. Zoey can’t even acknowledge it- the fit has trapped her whole body, her breathing off, her eyes open and panicked. They sound like they hurt- like the coughs tearing themselves out of her, thorns in her throat but no air in her lungs. 

“Shit!” Rumi hisses from Zoeys other side. Mira glances up to see that she also is supporting Zoey upright- “Breathe, Zoey, breathe.” 

“You’ve got this Zo, you’re okay, you're alright.”

But Zoey can't- the fit hasn't even lessened and it's been close to 30 seconds. Zoey is turning red, tears leaking out her closed eyes. She's not supporting herself at all. 

Mira can't do this. Her hands are tingling. She stands up, leaning Zoey more into the eldest girl. “Watch her- I'm calling an ambulance.”

“What? Mira, wait, we can try a bath, or-”

Mira freezes with her phone halfway up to her ear “You’re not fucking- she cant breathe, Rumi. I’m calling.” Fuck the paparazzi that would swarm an ambulance at the Huntrix tower, fuck the media fall out- the call connects as Mira watches Zoey struggle to draw in just one full breath. Mira rattles off the relevant info, feeling Rumi’s eyes on her. 

Mira places the phone down.

Zoey is finally slowing down from the fit. Her head lolls to rest on Rumi’s shoulder, and Rumi breaks her attempts to meet Miras eyes to glance at her, bending her neck awkwardly to try and see Zoey’s face. 

“Hey, hey, good job sweetheart, you ok?” But Zoey doesn’t answer, more and more of her weight slumping into Rumi’s side. Mira watches as the leader wraps and arm around Zoey to accommodate, as Zoey’s eyes stay shut and her breathing stays shallow and uneven, and the realization hits the both at the same time. 

Zoey is unconscious. 

“Zo? Zoey?” Rumi leans back and Zoey slumps fully across her lap. “Shit, Zoey!”

“Get her on her side.” Mira snaps, moving quick. “Recovery position, now! The ambulance was 10 minutes out.”

“10 minutes? They on the other side of the fucking city?” But Rumi moves, extracting Zoey from her lap with Mira’s help- she's still burning up, and Mira hates this, hates everything about this. They put Zoey carefully on her side, keeping her on the bed. Her eyes are shut, but her mouth is slightly open- it would be peaceful, if not for the uneven patches of color on her skin and the sounds of struggle coming from her airway. Mira crouches on the floor next to the bed for a moment,  before standing up and power walking out the room. 

“Where are you going?” Rumi calls after her, the panic pitching her voice higher than usual.

“Icepacks!” Mira throws back as she strides into the hallway. She can't just sit there and watch as Zoey struggles to breathe. How did it get so bad so quick? They’d been at work not even 2 hours ago, and Zoey had danced and giggled and done her part, she'd been quiet, sure, but god- her breathing-

Mira pulled out all the icepacks from the fridge and strode back to Rumi’s room. The sight that greeted her was Rumi crouched down by the headboard, stroking Zoey’s cheek with a thumb, whispering assurances to her. She had put the washcloth back on Zoey’s neck- she hadn’t flinched away this time, apparently. Her being unconscious and all. Mira’s chest felt tight.

She got busy tucking ice packs under the youngest’s arm, at the base of her back in the waistband of her pants, placed one between her thighs and pressed another against her chest for good measure- Mira’s glad they had so many. Zoey whimpered slightly but didn't stir otherwise. Mira pressed a kiss to her hairline to try and soothe her, before leaning back to press two fingers to her pulsepoint in her neck. Rumi watched with wide eyes, her one hand still on Zoey’s cheek.

“Pulse feels a bit fast, but steady, I think?” 

Rumi nodded, leaning foward to press her forehead against the mattress, “We’ve got you Zo, just open those pretty eyes. You’ll be okay, we promise.”

Mira wanted nothing more than to pull Zoey into her lap, where she could wrap her arms around her, where she could be safe, but the youngest was still too warm.

Instead, she reached over and placed her hand next to Rumi’s.

“Please be okay, love.” Mira sniffed, and tried to will herself not to tear up. She was fucking scared. She let her thumb press against the scattered freckles on Zoey’s cheek, before brushing against her side bangs. 

She sat next to Rumi, both of them watching Zoey’s ribs rise and fall with rapt attention. She thinks several minutes passed like that- just the two of them, watching their third. Zoey’s shoulders jerked and her hands twitched, but even with soft reassurances that she was okay, that more help was coming, that they were right there for her, always- her eyes stayed gently shut. And though Mira was pissed that Rumi had more than once put the possibility of hurting the honmoon of Zoey's actual, physical health, she needed comfort right now. The both of them did. Mira pulled Rumi into her side, still with a hand on the lyricist. She wanted to be touching both her girls, right now. (Also, it helped Mira keep track of Zoey’s temperature. She wants to think the icepacks are helping- they’ve had about ten minutes to work. Where the hell is the ambulance? At this point the damn food was gonna get there first.) The sound of her breathing hadn’t worsened in the interim, exactly- but it sounded pretty terrible in the first place. All thick and wrong, and with so much effort involved- like her lungs were being squeezed, wrapped in tight brambles. And she'd not once woken up.

But then- Zoeys breath stuttered in her chest in an absolutely terrifying way- she was drawing in air like she was drowning. 

Mira and Rumi lurched forward in unison- while they have differing priorities, Zoey is on top of both their lists.

“Absolutely not, Zo.” Mira was firm, but she felt like her whole being was wavering, like a leaf in the wind. She hovered, unsure how to help. “You do not get to do that. In no world, do you get to do that.”

“30 minutes ago,” and Rumis voice was breathy and distant, like she couldnt believe that Zoey had nosedived so quickly. “You were fine 30 minutes ago.”

“She wasn’t fine.” Mira snapped, though her arm tightened around the violet haired girl, keeping her close. “She wasn’t fine 30 minutes ago, or an hour, or all day, even! Even her laughing, her jokes, all of it was- for Zo to be this sick, she had to have been pushing through for- for too long.”  She would've covered her eyes with her hand, if either were free. But it was probably good for Rumi to be able to see how upset she was- see the fresh tracks of silver on her cheeks.

“We had to have been pushing for too long.”

For a second, when Rumi tensed under her- Mira thought she was going to do it again. Was going to try and say something stupid- like they all had to push, that they were almost at the summit of the mountain they've been climbing their whole careers, golden honmoon almost in reach. Like Zoey was right, for running herself ragged, into sickness, into unconsciousness, trying to meet this generational goal. Mira didnt know what she would do, if Rumi said something like that. It wouldn

t have been pretty.

But what Rumi said was “God. God, I know.” And when pressing her face into Mira’s shoulder, the choreographer could feel tears start to dampen her shirt. “I thought if we- I just need her to be okay.” She shook her head before looking up at Mira, then back to the sick girl. The whistle from her throat was the only other sound in the room. “I’m sorry, Zoey. Please, please, be okay.”

“Please, just keep breathing.”

But Zoey didn't respond.

----

Looking back on the next few minutes, before EMTs got there, Mira couldn’t actually remember that much. Just a deep fear, one that cut into her chest, barely missing her heart- something sharp, that she'd only ever felt before on a demon hunt gone wrong. 

It was almost as deadly, too.

The doctors had informed them that it was viral pneumonia (bad), that it was susceptible to antibiotics (good) and they were confident that they’d get a handle on it within the next few days (great), but that her lungs had been so occluded that her O2 saturation was dangerously low for dangerously long (bad, terrible, they had fucking missed this Zoey is the youngest they were supposed to look out for her-) and that they had to keep her several days for observation. Bobby arranged a private room for them once Zoey was released from the ICU, and it would be good to see her no longer that off-putting mix of splotchy red and ghost white from the fever.

But seeing her with the IV and the oxygen tube, sleeping propped up in the hospital bed, was a different punch to the chest. 

Mira and Rumi hadn’t been allowed to see her in ICU- their presence was too distracting for staff and patients. Plus, the EMTs had explained in the ambulance what they believed to be wrong and the likely treatment path- all with the aim to keep the two other Huntrix member from crowding the medical team out of the emergency room. But it was only Zoey blinking her eyes open in transit that settled the two enough to let her out of their sight (but the confusion and pain in Zo’s brown eyes as they wheeled her away from them- Mira just wanted to hold her). 

But now they could go see her, and Rumi had checked with the staff that it was okay to crawl onto the bed with her. The floor nurses seemed a bit surprised that three grown women who weren’t involved with eachother (allegedly) would do something like that, but with some glaring (Mira) and placating (Rumi) they think they maybe had permission. Or at least a promised blindspot. 

They had been getting updates from Zoey’s care team all night. The implication was that while Zoey wasn’t critical when she got there, if left untreated she wouldn’t have made it to the sunrise. The sunrise that now painted the walls of the private room golden, catching on the translucent white curtains, the clear tubing of the oxygen cannula under Zoey’s nose, on each of her perfect eyelashes. The sunrise that Zoey almost didn’t get to see. 

Mira decided to stop thinking about that, and to go hug her girl. 

With Rumi a pace ahead in her sweatpants and turtleneck from the night before, they made their way into the room. They immediately claimed a side of the bed and one of her hands each. Zoey stirred at the disruption, and it was so good to see her eyes open. She blinked up at the two of them, confusion in her gaze at first as it darted around the room. She sucked in a breath to speak, but it caught on a short series of coughs. Mira knew that there was still a lingering infection, but her hand was hovering over the ‘call nurse’ button the second it started anyway. Zoey waved her off, the coughs tapering off on their own after only a few seconds. Rumi pressed her lips to Zoey’s knuckles while they waited for her to catch her breath. 

“Hey, guys.”

And that did it. Mira leant forward to tuck herself against Zoey, head under the smaller girl’s chin. She felt Zoey drop her hand to instead rub her back, squeezing her even closer. Mira loved it- loved her. And she could have lost her. The tears came hot and fast.

“Girls, girls, I’m okay! I promise I’m okay.” Zoey tried to placate, Rumi's sniffling coming from somewhere near Mira. The rasp of her voice, and them being in the hospital, said otherwise.

“You don’t sound okay.”

“You almost weren’t.”

Mira and Rumi spoke over each other to express that sentiment. The arm around Mira started to caress up and down. 

“I will be okay,” Zoey amended, “and my favorite girls are here to keep me company. So, I’m better, at least.”

Mira sighed, and felt her shoulders relax for the first time in hours. 

“This was way worse than the streetfood incident, Zo. You- you are in so much trouble, love.”

She felt rather than saw Zoey wince.

“...will you believe me if I said I didn’t think it was that bad?”

“Thats not the point, Zoey.” Mira wiped a hand across her cheeks and pushed herself up. Rumi did the same across from her, taking over the conversation.

“You’re supposed to tell us if anything is wrong, Zoey. A sore throat, a headache, chills, a cough- all of the above. You have to trust us to support you- you have to trust us to help. Because we will, we always will. We love you, goose.”

“... I know, I-”

“Do you?” Mira cut in. “Because, Zo it’s not the first time you- both of you-” Rumi’s eyes widened at the inclusion, “have pushed yourselves too far for work. Hunter or idol or both. And I can't keep watching- you’re too important to me, for me to keep letting you do that.” Mira reached out for their hands, Zoey’s in her right and Rumi’s in her left. “I get it, I do- I want to seal the honmoon too. Of course. It’s one of the things I want most.” She squeezed. “But I want you safe more.” 

She looked into Rumi’s eyes, then to Zoey’s (and it's so good, they’re open and attentive and only a little fever-bright, and so what if she's crying- Mira is too. The three of them are one big mess right now.) 

“So tell us. If things are too much, physically, mentally, whatever- tell us so we can look out for each other. I don’t want to end up here again. I don't want to lose either of you. I don’t want to even come close.” She chokes up a bit, feels her breath catch in a way that makes her think of last night, “This was already far too close.”

Zoey looks devastated. 

“I promise, Mir, I promise.” and her voice is still like gravel and it looks like it hurts to speak, but Mira thinks it's the most beautiful sound in the world. 

She echoes the sentiment back, “I promise, too,” she says, and she's laying back down, tucking Zoey underneath her chin, this time. She sees Rumi mirroring her, and together they cradle the youngest between them, her body still a bit too warm, gaze still a bit too glassy, but talking and here and breathing. 

It doesn’t take long for Zoey to drift off, safe between the two of them. Mira and Rumi lay quietly, hands still entwined across Zoey’s stomach. The hospital sheets are softer than Mira thought they’d be. 

“The three of us first, always. No hiding.” Mira is just checking, really- she knows Rumi was just as scared as she was. But there are still some parts of last night that rubbed her wrong- moments where Rumi put the honmoon above all else. Above Zoey, almost. “Right?”

“Yeah, of course.” Rumi says, gaze fixed on the curve of Zoey’s nose, where it's tucked slightly into Mira’s hair. Her breath was tickling Mira’s neck, but she wouldn't trade it for the world. “I promise.” 

Mira smiles slightly, finally letting herself sink into sleep. She hadn’t gotten any rest in the night, and she was so, so tired with the weight of her relief. She squeezes Rumi’s hand as she drifts off, content with both her girls in her arms.

Rumi doesn’t squeeze back.