Chapter Text
Fox stumbles through the front door and leans on the frame, snorting and giggling to himself as he searches the wall for the light switch. His hand finally slaps it and he flicks it up, squinting as the lights come on to assault his eyes. Fox feels an arm wrap around his waist and hold him up.
"C'mon," Wolf says, acting responsible even though his breath reeks of alcohol and his words slur together. "Bed."
"It's the New Year! We can stay up a little longer!" Fox says.
"Too old for this shit," Wolf states, swaying a little despite the fact he's supposed to be holding Fox up to make him stable. "We're going to sleep. We were out too long."
"There were so many people," Fox says as he stumbles out of Wolf's admittedly loose grip and towards his bedroom. "It was too crowded."
"Don't gotta tell me twice," Wolf says, swaying as he follows Fox. "Didn't know that many people lived here."
"I think it was all their families too, like, ex… exsh-tended family," Fox says as he carelessly throws open his bedroom door.
Wolf giggles at Fox's failure to pronounce the word "extended." Fox giggles at Wolf's stupid sounding giggle.
"We had too much," Fox says.
"Maybe a little," Wolf says, "Grateful we didn't hafta drive."
Fox nods aggressively, "Plus city parties are even crazier."
Wolf grunts in agreement. He yawns widely, his lips peeling back to reveal his gums. He smacks lips together. "Mm."
Fox flops uncerimoniously onto his bed. "Get out, lemme sleep," He says.
Wolf waves Fox off and grumbles as he leaves for the living room and shuts Fox's door. Fox knows he should get up and change, if not at least take off his clothes. He should also get under the covers, but he's too comfortable. Too heavy. Too worn down…
He can close his eyes for a second surely… he'll surely do all of that…
Fox awakens with a stiff neck and the feeling of his fur stuck to his skin on his cheeks from drool. The sun shines through his blinds. He groans at the dull pulse in his head. He wants to roll over, but his stomach sends a warning that he can't move quickly. He carefully, slowly, rolls onto his side and curls into himself.
Definitely drank too much last night. I gotta remember that my body hates it and that I'm not 20 anymore.
Fox groans as he slowly sits up. He wrinkles his nose at the way his clothes stick to him, since he'd refused to change out of them. He takes them off and tosses them onto the floor in a pile, all while still sitting on his bed, which proved a little difficult with all his manuvering he had to do.
He forces himself to stand and at least put on a pair of baggy pants before shuffling out of his bedroom and to the bathroom, except the door is shut. Fox sighs and knocks. His stomach flips and he realizes what's about to happen, feeling the skin under his fur run cold, and knocks harder.
"Stop…" Wolf says, his voice strained on top of being muffled behind the door.
Fox tries to be patient as his head grows feverishly hot despite the goosebumps on his arms and legs. He tries to take deep, slow breaths. He tries to focus elsewhere and not think about the growing urge to puke. He presses an ear to the door and hears that Wolf has already lost his battle with his own hangover.
The sound of Wolf wretching makes Fox dry heave.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!!
Fox frantically looks around for something, anything. Best case would be Wolf finishing and opening the door. Worst case would be making a mess on the floor.
Fox bolts into the kitchen and barely makes it to the sink before the night before comes back to haunt him. Once he feels relief flood his stomach, he spits twice into the sink and quickly turns on the faucet, relieved by how easily it goes down. Fox sighs and grabs a spray bottle of cleaner and a rag. As he cleans the sink, Wolf enters the kitchen, clearly in a worse state than Fox.
"Didja puke in the sink?" Wolf asks.
"Yep," Fox replies flatly. He's annoyed that Wolf hadn't come out of the bathroom when he needed it. Yes, he knows Wolf was sick himself and had no way of getting out in time. He knows. He's still annoyed.
"Mm," Wolf hums, "Sorry, wasn't enough room at the toilet for the both of us."
"Gross."
"Yeah, yeah," Wolf waves Fox off and goes to the couch, curling up on it and pulling his blanket up close to his face.
Fox sighs and opens the basement door, throwing the now dirty rag down the stairs and watching it land with a wet splat on the floor. He'll grab it later and put it in the washing machine. Right now? Too many stairs to go down and climb back up.
He shuts the basement door and drags his feet to the sink and pulls out a plastic bucket. It's usually meant for holding water and cleaner for the floor. Today? Bathroom avoidance. He refuses to have the same incident happen again.
Fox and Wolf grunt at each other as Fox goes back into his room and shuts the door. He puts the bucket next to his pillow and slides beneath his covers. He groans pitifully as he curls up to prepare for another few hours of sleep. He'll eat after he wakes up again.
Fox wants to say a hangover on the day of the New Year was the first and last time he got sick.
A week into the year, his day started the same as the rest. He felt fine (now that he was days past his hangover). By lunch he felt a little congested and his throat scratched as he talked to Wolf about possible choices for school to earn his teaching license (Wolf wasn't too enthused by this, but did help narrow the choices down to two or three options). By dinner, though? His throat felt like a chainsaw had ripped through it.
Now he's sitting on the toilet in the bathroom and waiting for the thermometer in his mouth to confirm his suspicions that he has a fever. Fox shivers as a chill crawls down his nerves.
The thermometer beeps. Fox takes it out of his mouth and deflates at the sight of 39 Celcius. On cue, as if it knows he's annoyed, his body heats up and gets uncomfortably warm, the chills going away. He gets up and washes the thermometer in the sink.
"What'd it say?" Wolf asks as he sets a mug of tea down on the coffee table.
"Fever," He says. His throat makes him wince with the one word. "Throat hurts." His throat makes his eyes water with the two words.
"Hm, not surprised," Wolf says, "We were around a lot of people at the party. Bound to catch something. That's for you, by the way."
Fox sits next to Wolf and graciously drinks the almost too hot to drink tea, but the warmth and spices soothe his throat.
"I think there's elderflower or something in it. And cinnamon."
Fox hums as he takes another sip. I'll take his word for it.
"How are you feeling?" Fox asks, his voice straining and sliding as he speaks.
"Mm. Fine. I don't get sick like that," Wolf says.
"Oh, no?" Fox asks, overly sincere, "Really? That's incredible."
"I will pour your tea onto your lap," Wolf says, "I'm serious."
"I know you're serious, doesn't mean I don't think it's bullshit."
"Since when do I bullshit?"
"Do you want a list?"
Wolf declines with a stern grunt from his throat and stands up. "You should get some rest."
"Are you seriously sending me to bed?" Fox asks. He gapes at Wolf as the lupine only answers with a shrug. "You are!"
"Careful, you're gonna blow your voice out… Actually, on second thought, that might not be a bad idea," Wolf says.
Fox sighs, the air hurting his aching throat as he exhales. "You're the worst."
"And you're gonna feel worse if you don't go to bed. Now get."
Fox listens and goes to bed, making sure to glare and stare Wolf down the entire time as he does his nightly routine. He climbs into bed, slipping under the covers in nothing but his underwear, his fever making him too hot for anyhing else. Wolf is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. He almost looks imposing, if the surrounding context didn't exist at all.
"Come here to tuck me in or are you going to let me sleep?" Fox asks, his voice scratchy.
"Forgetting something?" Wolf asks, ignoring Fox's comment.
"… What?"
Wolf sighs and goes back to the living room. He returns with a large glass of water. "This?"
"Oh," Fox says as Wolf walks into his room and sets the glass down on his nightstand. "Maybe I need it."
"Maybe," Wolf replies dryly. "Tomorrow I'm gonna head to that little store or whatever and grab you some medicine. I can't believe you don't have any."
"Didn't need it until now," Fox says.
"That's why y'have it before you need it."
"… I know."
"Whatever. 'Night." Wolf says.
"Night…" Fox replies as Wolf shuts the bedroom door behind him.
Fox awakens, breathing heavily as he grapples with the dream he had. The door opens, light from the living room coming in, and his father pokes his head inside.
"Junior, you alright?" James asks. Fox rarely saw him without his sunglasses, except for late at night, his pale gray-blue eyes softened by the dim light. "Bad dream?"
Fox nods, "Yeah, it was scary," He says, "There was a BIG monster chasing me."
"Sounds scary," James replies, stepping into Fox's bedroom. He takes a seat on Fox's bed. He'd just gotten a new bed, and he'd gotten to pick the sheets and blankets for it! Thunderbirds themed, of course, Fox's favorite show! "What'd the monster look like?"
"It was this BIG bird with two heads! It could fly! It also was all metal like a robot!" Fox explains, remembering as much as he could from his dream. "But you and Peppy and Pigma came in and started BLASTING it all over and blew it up!" Fox says, jumping up and running on his bed and flopping over dramatically to show how it looked.
James chuckles, "Sounds eventful."
"The bird could even shoot fireballs!"
"Fireballs, huh? Imagine that. A bird shooting fireballs…" James chuckles again and scoops little Fox up into his arms, Fox giggling like crazy. "Your imagination runs wild," James says, tickling Fox's stomach.
"Noooo! Put me down!" Fox gasps between his laughter, "DAAAD!"
"Alright, alright," James says, relenting and lifts Fox up to tuck him back under his covers. "It is very late for you. You start school in a week and we gotta get you back on schedule."
"Aww… I hate school."
"Don't say that Fox, that's a strong word."
"It's true!"
"Hey, school's important. School's what's gonna make sure you know how to think and apply that thinking to your life when you get older," James says, poking Fox's forehead with his finger. "Trust me, I didn't like school either, didn't try at all, I almost flunked out by the time I was in grade six, which is very young. I don't wanna see you end up like me. There's a lot I wish I knew…"
"Hm…" Fox thinks, "Okay… what if… I go to school to teach you what you never got to learn! I'm starting grade four! I can catch you up all the way to grade six!"
James smiles and it's full of pride. Fox commits that smile to memory. He ruffles Fox's fur on his head, "That sounds great, Junior, can't wait to hear all about it from you."
"Maybe I can teach Uncle Peppy! Oo, oo! And Uncle Pigma!"
"Uncle Peppy's a heck of a lot smarter than me, and Uncle Pigma… well, he might actually learn a thing or two."
"Do you think Uncle Pigma will take me to see his work for Doctor Andross some day? He always talks about en… engen-earring."
"Engineering. Yeah, he's pretty proud of his work," James says with an eyeroll, but it's fond. "Maybe he'll show you."
Fox beams and snuggles back under his covers, "Thanks, Dad."
"Of course, Fox," James says, he gives Fox a kiss on the head, "Get some sleep."
James leaves and closes Fox's door behind him. Fox immediately gets up out of bed and sneaks over to his door to peek out. His father is sitting on the couch watching television. Fox closes the door a little to stifle a giggle, and then sneaks out the door…
…Fox enters their bedroom, looking at the crib next to their bed and his heart swells. He looks into the crib and sees their son, swaddled and fast asleep. Krystal stands next to him and rests her chin on Fox's shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist.
"How're you feeling?" Fox asks her as he places his hands over her's, rubbing his thumbs along her knuckles. She hasn't been in the mood for him doing anything beyond small touches and kisses like this, which does hurt a little, not being able to hold or hug her back, but he's not the one in the midst of postpartum. He can't even imagine how uncomfortable she must feel.
"Exhausted," Krystal says, sounding beyond worn out. "I'm tired of having to wear these ridiculous pads. It might as well be a diaper."
"How long did they say the bleeding would last?"
"Hm. Six weeks or so after giving birth. It's only been three."
"Halfway there," Fox says, taking one of Krystal's hands and kissing them. "Why don't you lay down? I'll keep an eye on him."
"He needs to be fed soon, no point," Krystal says. Their doctor had said babies early on were basically unpredictable in terms of feeding and sleep schedule, but Krystal's telepathic and empathic abilities made it entire predictable. Fox doesn't know if that's really all that much better than it being unpredictable.
"What about after you feed him?"
Krystal thinks about it, "Yeah… yeah… I don't see why not."
"I'll change his diaper, and then hold him for awhile. Do that skin-to-skin contact thing."
"Thank you," Krystal says, giving Fox a kiss on the cheek. "I don't know how long I'll be able to sleep, if at all."
"Even if you just close your eyes, that'll be okay, even if it's not really sleeping. Trust me, I'm the insomnia expert."
Krystal laughs, and even that sounds exhausted. Fox feels so bad for her, and he really has been doing his best to be present and active, allowing her to rest and making sure he takes care of Marcus as much as she does, but it doesn't feel like enough.
"Fox, you're doing more than enough," Krystal says, "I couldn't have asked for better help."
"I just wish I could take the weight off of you, the emotional, I mean, not-"
"I know what you meant," Krystal says, smiling, even though it doesn't quite reach her eyes, Fox knows it's geunine, smiling at his foolish fumbling over his words. "I appreciate it."
Marcus stirs and his absurdly tiny nose scrunches as he whines and starts breathing fast. A small cry comes out of his little throat. Krystal winces at the sound. She sighs and picks Marcus up. "Fox, love, could you get my nursing blanket?"
"Of course," Fox says, kissing her temple. "I'll also get your pump."
"Thank you, my love."
"You're welcome."
He helps Krystal settle in the cushioned rocking chair they got during Marcus' baby shower. Once Marcus is under the blanket and nursing, Fox sits next to Krystal and talks with her.
"He tried latching onto me the other day while you were taking a break outside," Fox says with a laugh. "For not having any teeth, his gums sure are sharp."
"You didn't tell me that!" Krystal laughs, "My goodness. Ravenous little thing," She gently chides Marcus. "… He's been getting fussier this week."
"Yeah… he has. He's also been staying awake longer."
"He has," Krystal agrees. "We should really start doing tummy time with him, having him lay on us so he can get his neck muscles going."
"He'll be able to sit up by himself before we know it."
"Shhh, I can still barely fathom that he's here at all," Krystal says.
Fox frowns and crouches next to her, looking up at her. "It is weird, isn't it?"
"It is."
"… I wish our parents could be here to meet him."
Krystal smiles, "My father would've been all over him. He would've been so excited. My brother, too."
"Sabre, right?"
"Yes, Sabre."
"Would he have liked me?"
"Not at first, but he was always protective of me. He would've loved being an uncle, though. He would've eventually softened up towards you, too."
Fox smiles, "My dad and mom would've loved you as soon as they met you. I didn't have any siblings, although… Lucy does count, I suppose."
"She definitely loved me as soon as she met me," Krystal says.
"How could she not?" Fox says. He smiles fondly at his wife as she shyly averts her eyes.
"Stop."
"What?"
"Looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"You know what, you dork."
Fox snorts, "Alright, alright."
"Fox, I'm so sorry, I'm very thirsty. Could you get me a glass of water?"
"Of course, Krys," Fox says as he stands. "I'll be right back."
Fox leaves their bedroom and goes into the kitchen. The freezer is wide open, the freezing air blowing in his face-
Fox sputters on snow as he wakes up, almost falling over, standing up in the middle of the living room. He sleepily brushes snow off of his face and shoulders, which only makes it melt faster into his fur. "Whaa…?"
"Are you awake?" Wolf asks sternly. He sounds mad. Why is he mad? And what is he doing in their living room?
I need to get Krystal her water.
"Yeah, been… awake," Fox says, not realizing his words are slurring together from how sleepy he is. "It's cold in… here."
"I threw snow at you so you'd stop sleep walking," Wolf says. "You almost knocked yourself over on the table."
"Aww. I'm sorry… just needed to get her some water…"
Wolf sighs, and he sounds exasperated. "See? That's what I'm talking about. Who the hell are you getting water? Earlier it was some shit about going to school and teaching something and now it's been about getting water for someone! Are you losing it?"
"Losing… it?"
"Fox, please for the love of Lylat, pull yourself together."
I'm fine…. She needs water…
"What are you… talking about?"
Wolf sighs again.
"And… what are you doing… here?" Fox asks languidly pointing a finger at Wolf.
"You're off your rocker," Wolf states. He stomps to the back sliding door and scoops up more snow with his hands, Fox barely registering what Wolf is doing as he tries to stumble into the kitchen to get Krystal her glass of water.
"For the love of- get out of there!" Wolf orders. Fox slumps against the wall separating the kitchen from the living room.
"What's that?" Fox asks, pointing at the snow in Wolf's hands.
"This."
Wolf forces Fox to sit down on the floor and dumps the snow onto his face and head. Fox yelps from the cold and shakes it off of him. His eyes open all the way, but his vision is still blurred. The living room lights are too bright and make it hard to see. Adrenaline from the heap of snow shocks him awake.
"Are you awake now?" Wolf asks.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm awake," Fox says, rubbing his eyes with his hands to get the water out of them so he can see properly. "What's going on?"
"You tell me, you're the wackjob sleepwalking and talking, acting crazy."
"I was sleepwalking and…? Oh no," Fox hides his face in his hands, ashamed that Wolf has beared witness to this. "Fuck, I'm sorry." He says as he miserably shivers.
"So this isn't new?" Wolf asks as he crouches next to Fox, having grabbed a towel and starts drying Fox off.
"No, it's not," Fox says, "It happens when I'm sick and have a fever and try to sleep, sometimes. It's almost like I'm hallucinating… I dunno. It just… it's embarrassing. Always has been."
"Do you remember what you were dreaming?" Hallucinating? Whatever the hell happened?"
"I do. It's actually why I hate sleeping. Even if I don't sleep walk, my dreams are vivid and I remember them. I always remember them…"
"Ahem. These dreams. The hell happened?" Wolf asks, making sure Fox stays on track.
"Oh. They were actually… happy for once. First one was about my dad. I was a little kid again and I didn't want to go to school, but he told me he didn't like school either."
"Uh-huh."
"And then told me he wishes he'd paid attention, and that I could teach him what I learn so he can finally know more… And then he left and I wanted to sneak out of my bedroom, so I did, but I walked out into mine and Krystal's room from our apartment in the city, with Marcus' crib."
Wolf shoved his towel covered hand into Fox's ears to get the water out of them.
"OW! Be careful!" Fox says, "Anyways… Krystal and I were just… talking. Marcus was three weeks old and Krystal's postpartum was knocking her the hell out and… it was just us, talking, and being, I dunno, domestic? She would always need a glass of water while she nursed because she'd get really thirsty… The other thing with my dreams is they're usually memories."
"So these actually happened?"
"More or less, yes. Whenever they're dreams like this, that are calm… It's always what I miss or wish I could have again."
"A normal life?" Wolf asks.
"… I guess that's a way to put it."
"Hmph. Sounds boring."
"We're boring now, Wolf."
"I dunno about that, not if you keep sleepwalking like this." Wolf places a hand on Fox's forehead. "Hm. Your fever's gone down. When you first walked out here it was high. You were burning up pretty badly."
"Well, I'm sure the snow you threw at me helped."
"Twice."
"You threw snow at me twice?"
"You didn't wake up the first time," Wolf says as he pushes himself up with a pained grunt. He mutters curses under his breath about his knees.
"Well… thanks… I think?"
"You're welcome. Are you gonna be able to go back to bed and not have this happen again?"
Fox shrugs, "Depends on my fever. I will say, my throat is feeling a little better."
"Good for you."
"… That wasn't sarcastic at all. Are you feeling okay?" Fox asks.
"I'm fine."
"I don't believe you."
"Too bad."
Fox looks Wolf up and down, even through his admittedly still groggy eyes, he can see Wolf shivering a little. Wolf sniffles miserably and wipes his nose with his bare arm.
Ew. At least use a tissue.
"You're sick, aren't you?" Fox asks.
"I'm not sick."
"Yes you are, even after you said 'I don't get sick like that,' right?" Fox lowers his voice to mock Wolf.
"Don't make me sound stupid."
"Hate to break it to you, but you did that by yourself."
Wolf sneers at Fox and huffs, "Are you going back to bed or not?"
"Are you?" Fox asks, "Have to follow your own advice when you're sick."
Wolf blows air throw his nose out frustration, but it just leads to a small wet sound of snot being blown out. Both of them wrinkle their noses in disgust, and Wolf hangs his head in defeat.
"How long have you been sick?" Fox asks.
"…"
"You were feeling sick the same time I did, weren't you?"
"Actually, since Monday."
"It's Thursday."
"Yep."
Fox feels the urge to scold Wolf rise up within him and catch in his throat. His sore throat. He feels the weight of his exhaustion push down onto his body and he slumps a little forward. "Why couldn't you just tell me that?" He says instead of scolding, going for disappointed instead. He is disappointed, in the both of them.
"I can take care of myself," Wolf says, shrugging Fox off.
"If you're gonna basically insist on taking care of me when I"? sick, then I can at least do the same for you."
"You don't take care of yourself how you should."
"And you take care of yourself how you should?"
"I'm not the one who hallucinates and sleepwalks when I have a fever."
"Look," Fox says, "I know we've both got an… indepenent streak, for years. We're used to having to take care of everyone else. Why can't it be a fair trade?"
Wolf rolls his eye and shakes his head. "Never been good at accepting help. Feels like charity. Pity."
"Well, that's your problem, not mine. Come on," Fox says, beckoning Wolf to follow him. "You're sleeping in my bed."
"You're putting me in your bed when you've got a risk of getting off the couch and sleepwalking out the front door?"
"You might actually start feeling better if you get proper rest, and you're not gonna do that on the couch," Fox replies as Wolf follows him into his bedroom. A chill runs down Fox's spine as his fever comes back and makes his head ache. He groans as he grabs the covers of his blankets.
"Well, you're not gonna get much rest either if you're not in your own bed. Your couch isn't uncomfortable but it's… not the best." Wolf gives Fox a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Look, I… get what you're trying to do but I will be fine."
"Yeah, I know, I'm just… trying to figure something out that'll help the both of us," Fox squeezes his eyes tightly shut as he tries to fight off his returning fever. The adrenaline he'd gotten from being startled awake from the snow on his face has worn off, and his body is screaming at him to lay down. Fox picks up the comforter to his bed and stares at it, his dreams returning to his mind. Maybe it's the fever making him weak and have lame ideas. Maybe it's his exhaution. Maybe it's just being in the bedroom is reminding him of what he used to have and who he used to share such a personal space with. Tears well in the corner of Fox's eyes as he thinks about his father and his son. A lump forms in his throat as he thinks about his ex-wife.
Fox turns to Wolf, eyes large and pleading, "Stay in here with me tonight."
Wolf's eye widens, uncharacteristically, and Fox sees Wolf's facade drop for a split moment before Wolf quickly recomposes himself. "You want me to share your bed with you?"
"Yes. We both need something comfortable and… it may be easier for you to keep an eye on me if I sleepwalk again."
Wolf looks Fox up and down and shakes his head. "You're lucky I'm too tired to care right now. Hold on." Wolf leaves Fox's room for a moment.
Fox stays put, still holding up the comforter and sheets, which was originally for the purpose of climbing back into bed, but he just wants to stand here right now. His hand is getting sweaty as he grips the blankets. Wolf returns with his pillow and a couple of the pillows from the couch. He gestures for Fox to get into bed.
Once Fox is settled, Wolf takes the pillows from the couch and sets them up next to Fox, and then puts his pillow down.
Ah, I see. Using the pillows to separate us so we don't touch. Honestly, I don't blame him. Besides… it'd be way too hot if we get close together.
Wolf climbs into bed and lays on his side, facing away from Fox. Fox does the same, facing away from Wolf. The pillow wall leaves less room for Fox to stretch out, but he isn't uncomfortable. He dozes off and resumes his dreams of his memories that remind him of what he's lost and will never regain.
When he wakes up, there's daylight creeping through the blinds of his window. Wolf is still asleep next to him, softly snoring away. He's rolled over, laying on his side and facing Fox. Apparently he'd fallen asleep with his eyepatch on, because it's a little crooked. Even while asleep, Wolf's eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth curled in a small frown. Fox snorts softly at Wolf's pink tongue barely sticking out from his mouth as he snores.
This is a one time thing, but it's nice to wake up next to someone, even if he thinks I'm insane.
Then again, that sounds about right for me.
Fox sips some water to soothe his parched, scratchy throat before tucking back under the covers and going back to sleep.