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Fever Spike (Moon Knight, Steven)


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So, this was a story that I wrote when I was sick with a fever a couple months ago, so it’s definitely a lot more all over the place than usual. I just got around to editing it now. If it’s scattered, so sorry, but I hope that you all enjoy it!







    Steven groaned as he flipped over in bed from his right to his left side. It shouldn’t have been a massive struggle, yet he was, left feeling as though his legs were being squeezed by tiny knives, the ache traveling straight through to the bone. His skin felt over sensitive and the sheets that were wrapped around him that once brought comfort, only brought rattling discomfort. Shivers racked his body, and although the sheets rubbed wrong against his prickling skin, he was too cold to even consider giving up any blankets. He sunk deeper into his bed and felt a few stray tears roll down his cheeks, soaking into the pillow.




    A soft voice echoed in Steven’s head and he forced his heavy eyelids open to see Marc staring back at him thanks to the small handheld mirror that was propped up in front of a picture of Marc and his little brother, Randall, as children. It had been at Steven’s insistence that they keep that picture beside the bed for moments such as these. Marc had originally been reluctant, though right now he was suddenly relieved he had agreed to it.


    “Barc?” Steven tried to snort back the congestion only to end up coughing when the discharge in his nose was so thick that he couldn’t move any air through.


    ‘You sound like shit.’


    A momentary desire had Steven wanting to reach out and slam the mirror down. It was only pure exhaustion and the severity of the muscle aches that kept him from doing so. ‘I feel like shidte, bate.” Steven lifted a heavy hand and swiped it under his nose, the tip momentarily squishing against his cheek. He released his nose and mopped up the residual moisture that had gotten on his cheek, hoping that Marc hadn’t seen how disgusting he was.


    ‘Did you take anything?’


    Steven gave a brief pause. The fever wasn’t doing any favors to his already spotty memory. There was an open blister pack of DayQuil on the nightstand, but Steven didn’t know whether he had taken it or someone else. “Baybe.”


    Marc pinched the bridge of his nose, fingers curling around it until he straightened and narrowed his eyes at his alter. ‘You have to take care of the body, Steven.’


    “I do,” Steven protected, voice cracking and plunging him into a hacking fit. It took what felt like forever for him to gain control, and once he did, tears collected in the corners of his eyes as he bundled deeper under the covers. A free fist came up to rub at his septum, breath slightly wheezy. “Ouch.”


    Although not in the body, Marc could definitely see how much pain and discomfort Steven was in. His alter tried to remain tough, to show Marc that he was truly the man that he had created to protect him from trauma. However, it was difficult to compete with a man who could remove bullet wounds from his own body and barely flinch. Steven feared he would never quite get there, which was a tad bit frustrating to Steven.


    ‘Do you want me to take the body?’


    “Whadt good would thadt do? You would be sick too.” Steven pressed his palm against the bulb of his nose, rubbing furiously in small circles. It did nothing besides covering his palm with moisture that he then wiped on his shirt bashfully. It was far from sanitary and it was embarrassing, but he hadn’t had a choice. Luckily, Marc hadn’t spoken up and Steven was relieved.


    Marc sighed and leaned closer in the mirror. ‘I can take it just for a bit so that you can get some real rest. I’ve seen you tossing and turning all afternoon. There’s no way that you can be well rested.’


    “Id’s the fever. Always gedts be hardesdt oud of ady other symbtobs.”


    ‘I’d say congestion may equally be as rough of a symptom for you.’


    Steven let out a forced chuckle only for it to blossom into a wet, crackling cough that had him pitched forward with a hand rested on his chest. Tears collected in the corners of his eyes as he continued to cough until his lungs finally took pity on him. He was left taking in labored breaths, feeling as though he may pass out at any moment. It had been such a longtime since he had felt this horrible and he feared there was no reprieve from it.


    He was painstakingly aware that Marc was talking to them, but a sudden buzzing in his ears had his jaw dropping and dots dancing in front of his vision. He slumped back down on the bed and lifted both hands to massage over his eyes, palms pressing so hard that he swore he could feel his brain. How had a microscopic virus taken a toll like this on him?


    ‘Steven? Steven!”


    Steven could feel Marc pressing within their headspace, chomping at the bit to take over the body. He lifted a hand from his left eye and gave it a weak wave. “Stob, stob, or I ab really goig to be sick.”


    As quickly as the pressure had intensified, it released and Steven was able to take in the semblance of a deep breath without feeling like he was going to vomit. Marc meant well most if not all the time, yet this was something that would definitely not help in the slightest.


    ‘Sorry, I just don’t like to see you in pain,’ Marc confessed, his reflection in the mirror momentarily flickering as if he was dissociating from within the body’s headspace this time.


    Steven was far too exhausted and delirious from fever to best be able to comfort Marc in his own struggle at the moment. Marc may not ever admit it, but he could be clingy at worrisome at times now that he was on board with Steven and the two had began to trust each other into truly living shared lives in one body. It could be difficult, almost impossible at times, though Steven couldn’t blame him when he knew Marc and knew how this thought process worked.


    Before Steven could answer, he reached a hand blindly behind him until his fingers brushed the corner of the tissue box he had laid there when he first had tried to get some rest. He pulled a few free and cupped them under his nose as his breath started to hitch, nose burning as he waited for the intense feeling to overwhelm him. He was well aware that Marc was staring at him both in confusion and worry, yet there was nothing that he could do.


    “Hih.....hih.....Hih’TichsSHew! Hih’TishSHew!” Steven ducked into the tissues, feeling the mess spread. He forced a quick wipe before folding the tissues to a clean side only to buck forward into them once again. “Hih’TishSHew! Hih’TirhcShew! Hih’TichsSHew! Hih’TichsHSew!”


    ‘Damn, Steven.’


    Steven kept the tissues clamped over his face as he reached back around for another handful. When he brought it back to his face, he was reluctant to remove the wilted ones that were still over his nose. He knew what lay behind and didn’t want Marc to be witness to that. It would be beyond humiliating.


    Turning away from the mirror to the best of his ability, Steven swiftly switched out the old tissues for new ones and began to blow. The gurgling sound that left his nose had his stomach churning. An embarrassed blush rose high on his cheeks as he was forced to clean himself up to the best of his ability, feeling that he hadn’t done much to clear out the lingering congestion that made it impossible for him to breathe through his nose.


    ‘Gesundheit,’ Marc offered as almost an afterthought as if he just remembered that was something polite to say.


    Steve took the used tissues and let them fall into a metal trash bin that he kept beside the bed. It had been for if Steven grew queasy to his stomach, but considering that hadn’t happened, he saw no reason why he couldn’t use it to the deposit of all the snot filed tissues he seemed to be going through at a record pace.


    Thankfully, Marc said nothing, attention still on Steven without being completely overbearing. He seemed to pace back and forth in the mirror, edginess seeping from every ounce of his being. Steven was used to this kind of treatment from Marc whenever he was inhabiting the body and fighting with a perpetrator. It was this sort of attention that got Steven rattled, unable to read his alter’s eyes to know what he was thinking or feeling.


    “Cheers,” Steven croaked, emptying all that he possibly could in another tissue only to throw the useless bundle into the trash. “Wish I had sobe hand sanitizer.”


    ‘You’re at home, by yourself. No one is coming over. Why would you need hand sanitizer,’ Marc joked, voice teeming with amusement.


    Steven shot him a stubborn glare. “Because I dond’t like feelig dis disgusting, Barc!” His rising voice did nothing for his aggravated cough and send him in the thorough of a fit, entire body shaking enough that it jostled the bed. The more he tried to control it, the worse it became until something sticky and wet rose in the back of his throat. “Oh buggar.”


    Steven wrenched back so quickly that it made Marc’s head spin as he turned on his side and coughed into a bundle of tissues, closing the edges up when he was finished and flipped back over to throw the tissues in the bin, tongue swiping at the roof of his mouth and swallowing in a desperate attempt to rid himself of that taste.


    Marc opened his mouth to speak, but Steven shook his head adamantly as he pulled the covers up to his chin and suppressed a shiver as he fell into a fetal position. “Dond’t even ask to take the body,” Steven flashed with no real conviction in his voice. He was exhausted and he was certain that if Marc wanted to really take the body, he could without so much as a twitch from Steven in his current condition.


    To Steven’s relief, Marc went eerily quiet. ‘Do you know where you picked this bug up?’


    Steven shrugged, eyes still closed. “Probably the musesub. Lods of people cobe in there everyday. Would’ve been easy to catch sobething from those tour groubs or those kids.”


    Marc surprised a shudder at the mention of kids. ‘Germ magnets will be germ magnets.’


    Steven didn’t quite understand what Marc was saying as his legs began to intensively ache, radiating pangs that stretched deep into the muscle, almost to the bone. It was something that Steven had always experienced with fevers, and it was one of his worst symptoms. He could take the chills and the fever spikes, even the coughing, but he drew the line at body aches that made him feel like his entire body was placed in a vice.


    He could feel that Marc was still watching up, despite that his eyes were closed. It wasn’t something he could fully explain, but a presence like Marc’s was difficult to ignore.


    “I appreciate the care, bate, budt you dond’t have to hover.” He gave a sharp inhale, which did less than expected to deal with his congestion. “I’b jusdt goig to sleep through Id until by fever breaks.”


    Marc hummed to himself, head tilted to the side. ‘I’m not hovering. If someone were to come in, I want to be prepared.’


    He was overcompensating, that much Steven was sure. There was probably some truth behind his words while also being honest that he was making sure that no harm came to either of them. Steven also knew that Marc hated to not be in control, which was something he had to live with when he wasn’t the one in control of the body.


    “You’re goig to gedt pretty bored, bate, budt you cad do whadt you wandt.” Steven shifted around against the covers, a symphony of pain dancing across his tired limbs, leaving him struggling to make sense of the pain that he felt and craving for it to end. He had dealt with injuries before, yet he would take those over body aches due to fever anyway.


    He could tell that Marc still had his full attention, but his tiredness combined with the nighttime flu aid that he had choked down earlier began to take it’s toll, a weightlessness finally replacing the antsy feeling he had succumbed to earlier. He still felt like absolute shit and he wasn’t sure how long this illness would last, but at least he knew that Marc would be there to watch over him, and him Marc when his alter inevitably took over the body to deal with this illness himself.


    The End

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