Sniffles and Sneezles Spread Diseasles

[idontneedluck]

The last few months have been stressful, to say the least, as he worked off his probation. Nothing he was made to do was out of malicious intent, of course, but hours upon hours of service work coupled with even more hours of solitary reflection meant it was a properly chastened Chirrut who returned to the fold.

It was also a Chirrut who'd been exposed to a majority of the pilgrims to the temple.

It was fairly inevitable that something lingered.

When Chirrut woke up this morning, the world was muffled, his chest heavy, his joints creaky and unhelpful. He ignored it.

That is to say, he forced himself up, went through the routines of getting ready for the day, but when it came time to actually set forth, he... stayed back. Casually. He didn't want a fuss, there was enough fuss over the last few months, this was just a cold. Once everyone was gone, he nabbed as many blankets as he could get his hands on, piling them onto his bed into a tangle of a nest to hide in... and then did exactly that. If this stupid thing was going to make his world muffled and off-balance, then he was just going to ride it out somewhere that didn't matter as much.

Comments

[iprotectyou]

"I am a warrior of some renown and a fierce Guardian, not some child's toy. 'Fearless' is right," Baze grouses, reaching over to scrub the top of Chirrut's head.

The older man folds his arms, squinting at his friend. "Do I really let the children walk all over me?"

[idontneedluck]

"Don't worry, you're not contributing to the next generation of hooligans. That' my job." Chirrut teases, after a momentary sulk when his retaliatory swat failed to land. "Rather they see you as friend to guide them instead of a master to rule them."

[iprotectyou]

Baze is more smug than he has any right to be that Chirrut missed. The larger man is torn between being bummed that his friend is sick and thoroughly enjoying himself because of it--and not just because Chirrut can't hit him worth a damn. Fussing over him is good, too.

"They have to unlearn what they learn from you before they can be properly trained," Baze says, shaking his head, a gesture he forgets Chirrut can't see. "And you're right--I'd rather not be a master. Master Sheotar is more than enough around here, though I don't envy her the job."

[idontneedluck]

"Ugh, no, don't become her, that'd... no." Chirrut has utmost respect for Master Sheotar.

She's just terrifying.

Losing the last of his attempts at a normal posture, he slumps against the wall, cradling his empty cup in lax hands.

"Ugh. I hope I'm not needed today, I'm useless." He yawns, giving up any serious effort at alertness.

[iprotectyou]

"I made sure that you weren't," Baze says, sympathetically. He takes the empty mug out of Chirrut's hands and gently pushes him back down into the bed, tucking the blankets under his chin. "Sleep, Chirrut. You need sleep to get better."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut smiles and mutters something (teddy bear, it's definitely teddy bear, and he didn't mutter it nearly as softly as he thought he did). Soon he's asleep, trusting Baze to have his back while he is recovering.

[iprotectyou]

Baze smiles at his friend, watching over him for a time before finishing out the rest of his duties as a temple Guardian. When he goes to sleep that night, he has a curious tickle in the back of his throat, and by the time he wakes up, it's a full-blown cold. His nose is runny, his head is splitting, and he can't seem to get warm enough despite all the shivering.

The large Guardian turns over in his bed, curled in the fetal position and sniffing miserably.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut, on the other hand, woke up feeling decidedly on the mend. The world seems real again, which is a vast improvement.

The way he can hear Baze's bed creak as the man shivers is not an improvement, however. Chirrut clambers out of bed, scattering blankets, to go investigate.

"Baze?" Chirrut rests feather light fingers against Baze's head, searching. His frown deepens at what he finds.

"Ridiculous man, you weren't supposed to get sick too." He chides because it's better than giving in to worry.

Before he goes in hunt for something to help, he takes his nest of blankets apart, and drapes them over Baze instead.

[iprotectyou]

"Chirrut?" Baze croaks, a plaintive whine. He burrows underneath the blankets, grateful for the extra warmth and extra pressure of the heavy cloths. He can barely raise his head, and he aches, and he succumbs to a hacking cough before he can say anymore.

"I blame you," Baze says, muffled by the blankets. "I blame you so much."

[idontneedluck]

"You usually do." Chirrut agrees, gently tweaking a lock of Baze's hair. "I'll be right back."

It takes him a little longer than normal to make the trip to the kitchens - he has to employ a young acolyte to carry the tray. He doesn't trust his own perception of the world enough quite yet to risk that sort of mess.

"Alright, just here please. Thank you, now off you go." Small feet skitter off, obediently. "Shoo. Now Baze, you may roar all you like, the delicate ears in the room have left."

[iprotectyou]

Baze groans, throwing an arm over his face. "I don't want to make them sick, too," he says, snot draining down the back of his throat. "This is miserable. How do you stand it?"

He curls in on himself, turning away from Chirrut and his concern. While Baze likes fussing over others, he can't stand being fussed over himself.

[idontneedluck]

"I hid under a pile of blankets until someone poured tea and soup down my throat, then slept like the dead." Chirrut replies, prodding Baze in the ribs. "Speaking of which, I have tea and soup, but I cannot claim to have made it myself... it's probably safer that way."

[iprotectyou]

"Meh," Baze grumbles, and then gives into several sneezes. He wipes his nose on his sleeve. "Do I have to eat? My throat's so sore, I don't think I can. Just leave me to die."

[idontneedluck]

"Oh no, I simply can't do that. Winter will be coming on soon and there's no hope of digging a hole. Cremation is an option, I suppose, but you know how the Elders get about using excess firewood." Chirrut reminds him cheerfull,y prodding at Baze's shoulders. "I could try to force-feed you, but considering my aim isn't perfect yet..."

[iprotectyou]

Baze peeks out from under his arm at the prodding, debating whether he has the energy to slap Chirrut's hands away. Baze decides he doesn't.

"I'd say wrap me in a blanket and throw me in the river, but there are no rivers nearby," he grumps, resigning himself to the fact that he has to sit up to eat--and that he has to eat at all. He pushes his shoulders against the wall, grunting as the light in the room strikes his eyes and makes his head hurt. "I'll take the soup."

[idontneedluck]

"You had better, I want my Baze back." Chirrut echos his words back to him. "And before you ask, yes, I got some for myself, I can hear your nagging thoughts." He moves slowly with the bowl, not entirely trusting his sense of space.

"I heard in the kitchens this thing is spreading throughout the city - just wait until the acolytes get it." Sniffling in the halls for weeks, surely.

[iprotectyou]

"Ugh, that figures," Baze says, gratefully taking the soup. He sips at it carefully; it's not the saltiest broth he's ever tasted, but then again, he can hardly taste it. And he certainly can't smell it. He sniffles, thoroughly miserable. "Thank you for the soup. I'd hate to have the kids contract this illness. They'd give it to each other in an endless cycle. We're going to be sick again in a month, aren't we?"

[idontneedluck]

Churrit shudders at the thought, making the soup in his own bowl ripple - bad enough to go through this once.

"Maybe the Elders would accept my petition to go spend some time in the desert." Somewhere away from people. He could call it meditating. It wouldn't really be a lie, he would meditate, but mostly it would be a self-imposed quarantine.

[iprotectyou]

Baze cackles, and then winces, as the laugh hurt his head. "No, I don't think Master Sheotar will let you out of her sight," he says, grinning. "Who knows what kind of trouble you could get into unsupervised."

Base knows exactly what kind of trouble. He'd be right there with Chirrut, and often has been. "Aren't we supposed to be representatives of the temple? We can't do that if we're hiding."

[idontneedluck]

"I never said anything about hiding." Chirrut retorts, sitting prim and proper on the foot of Baze's bed. "I would be seeking a closer connection with the Force."

And a farther connection with anyone sick. It all works out for everyone's benefit!

[iprotectyou]

Baze snorts, nudging Chirrut from under the blanket nest. "The Force surrounds and binds living things. You're not going to find much of that in a Jedhan desert," he says, drinking his broth. "Sorry Chirrut, but you're stuck with us. Do you really want to spend more time in self-reflection?"

[idontneedluck]

He sways with the nudge, managing to avoid spilling the soup and avoid falling over the side of the bed. Progress!

"Any more and they'll start calling me vain." Chirrut grumbles, because after the first couple weeks he had thoroughly gotten the message - the rest of it just dragged.

[iprotectyou]

"How can a blind man be vain?" Baze says, thoroughly confused. "Do you just enjoy the sound of your voice?"

Baze scratches his cheek. "It's not that you're not handsome, because you are, but if you can't see it, then what's the point?"

[idontneedluck]

"Reflection? I was told it was something to do with sight and it resembles yourself. Figures they were pulling my leg." He sighs, the put-upon sigh of a man who still wonders some days if this 'sight' thing is a giant joke everyone's decided to tell.

"And there's nothing wrong with my voice."

[iprotectyou]

Baze pats his shoulder, and then returns to his own soup. "Your voice is fine," the older Guardian says. "How's Eiko doing? I haven't seen her in a while."