Chapter Text
Twilight woke with a gasp, pitching forward. Tears rolled down his cheeks, sweat dripped from his bangs. He clawed at his neck–his throat –gasping for air over his sobs. Every breath burned his lungs and squeezed his chest so tightly he thought his ribs would burst. He choked over a harsh coughing fit, his nose running and ears full of his own hammering pulse.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sky said, prying Twilight’s hands from his own neck. “Take it easy.”
The wolf’s nails raked across his own skin, leaving faint scratches. Twilight’s eyes settled on Sky wide in fear and lost in guilt but there was no recognition in them. The chosen hero hugged Twilight around the neck, pulling the older hero’s face into his shoulder. Twilight faltered and then let out a sob, falling still as he wept, murmuring out a string of incoherent apologies. He clung to Sky, hands taking fistfuls of the chosen hero’s tunic.
Next to Twilight, Wild and Four stirred as the commotion woke them and closer towards the fire, Wars sat up as he groggily pawed at his face.
“Sh, sh,” Sky hushed, comforting Twilight. “It was just a dream. You’re alright.”
Wild drew in a breath, one eye still closed. “Everything alright…?” he got out faintly, half-awake.
Sky smiled, patting the champion on the head. “Fine. Just waking Twi for watch. Go back to sleep.”
Wild was too sleepy to parse the lie. He nodded and rolled onto his side, pulling Four in close. Without Twilight’s warmth smothering them, they wrapped around each other instead to fight off the cool night.
Wars got up, drawing his blanket around his shoulders. He approached, eyes still glazed in sleep and his hair stuck up in the back. Sky glanced at the captain who tipped his head towards the fire. The chosen hero nodded and quietly coerced Twilight to his feet before guiding him towards the center of camp.
“What happened?” Wars asked, trying to assess the situation as Sky and Twilight joined him.
Sky shook his head. “I was on watch–Twilight had a nightmare.”
Wars took in a long breath, waking himself up with a handful of water to his face. He nodded after a moment, glancing up at the rancher. Twilight still didn’t seem that awake, the rancher hugging himself with his head bowed. He shivered as a chill crawled up his back and across his neck and shoulders.
Sky sat Twilight down before he retrieved his own blanket and draped it over the rancher. He took Twilight into another hug, rubbing the man’s back as his crying finally began to ease.
“There you go,” Sky encouraged. “Deep breaths, Twi.”
The apologies quieted and Twilight wiped his cheeks on his arms and hands, sniffling. Cold sweat soaked his skin and pajamas, his hands shook and there was a weight in his gut. He coughed into the side of his fist hoarsely. The thick taste of snot plugged his throat and nose and he felt like he was still choking on something, but every swallow hurt.
“Link,” Wars said gently. “You’re alright–”
The captain reached out but Twilight jerked back in sudden fear. “No,” the rancher rasped, terrified. “I–you–” he paused, looking at his own hands, confusion visible on his features.
He could still feel the pain in his right palm, but there was no wound, no blood. His head still ached, full of pressure, and his chest felt tight. He still felt the hot blood soaking his clothes and running down his arms. He could still feel the rot in his bones and flesh, the maggots which filled his shell. And still in his fingers, the sensation of Wild’s face breaking in his grip, the feeling of his finger forcing itself into Wars’ eye socket. Their screams were in his ear, the dread of dying settled in his gut, Time’s expression burned into his memory.
“You’re awake now,” Sky assured Twilight, trying to draw the rancher out of his daze. “Whatever happened in your dream was just that, alright?”
Wars filled his palm with water and then splashed it across the back of the rancher’s neck. That seemed to sharpen Twilight up a touch and he finally began to settle down as he realized he hadn’t hurt any of them.
“M’sorry,” Twilight mumbled, still foggy. He rubbed at his face, failing to make sense of where he was or what he was doing.
“Don’t be sorry,” Sky said. “That’s why we have watch. Let me see your neck.”
Twilight glanced up, but nodded, doing as he was told without the coherence to question it. Sky brushed his fingers along the red marks. They broke skin here and there, but for the most part, would fade by morning. He wasn’t sure Twilight was even conscious of them.
Wars’ eyes scrutinized the damage. “Some nightmare,” he sighed. “Are you okay, Twi?”
Twilight paused and then gave up a nod though it was obvious he wasn’t. He only mumbled another apology, his breath wheezy as he took in air through his mouth.
Sky frowned softly. “You’re soaked.” The chosen hero stood and gathered a clean washcloth. He returned, wetting down the cloth and wiping at Twilight’s tear stained face. “Wash up,” he said gently.
Twilight fumbled with the washcloth, waking more as he cleared the sleep from his eyes and tears and sweat from his face. There was a crust along his lashes and the snot running over his upper lip made his skin sting. Twilight held the balled up cloth to his forehead, finding relief in its cool touch. His eyes felt damp and hot still and malaise settled along achy limbs and flush skin.
“Sky,” Wars said, “there’s a spare nightshirt in my bag. Do you mind?”
Sky shook his head and retrieved it, offering the shirt to Twilight. The rancher hesitated, looking immensely guilty for a moment. Wars gave him a gentle nudge, imploring him to take it. Twilight searched the captain as if to make sure he was really there, that it was really him , and then sighed, standing up and putting on the dry pajamas. Sky took his cold, sweaty clothes and laid them out next to the fire to dry.
“Is Wild okay?” Twilight asked unsurely, his voice nearly vanishing.
Sky and Wars both glanced over the smith and champion tangled up together under three blankets–both their own and the rancher’s. They slept soundly, having easily drifted back off after the slight disturbance.
Wars smiled. “I think so,” he laughed as he handed Twilight a waterskin. “Why?”
The rancher slurped down a few mouthfuls of water, trying to ease a scratchy soreness in the back of his throat, but it only hurt more to drink. Twilight massaged the scar on his arm. He sucked in a sharp breath when it really did hurt, and his triforce seared in pain. He fell into another coughing fit.
“Twi,” Sky said, taking the rancher’s face in his hands. “What’s–ah, you’re burning up,” the chosen hero realized.
The fever was glaringly obvious now that the sheen of sweat was cleared from his forehead. Twilight’s eyes were hazy with fever as he woke the rest of the way, and his breathing crackled softly as he sniffled.
“I feel terrible,” he admitted after a moment in a half-conscious mumble.
“You sound terrible,” Wars agreed. “You’re sleeping in tomorrow, and you’re not taking watch for two days. When did you start to feel poorly?”
Twilight shook his head, clearing his clogged throat. “Felt fine s’mornin’,” he answered vacantly as he did his best to try and piece together his evening. Twilight braced as another wave of chills prickled his skin. He drew the blanket tightly around himself in a shiver. Sky grabbed Twilight, pulling him close.
“You must’ve had a fever dream,” the chosen hero sighed. “No wonder it was so bad.”
Wars tipped his head in thought. “You asked about Wild–what happened in your dream?”
Twilight glanced up, sniffling. “Ain’ so sure it were a dream,” he murmured. “Felt real.”
“I know,” Wars said softly. He reached over, setting a hand on Twilight’s head. Sky was right–the rancher was more than hot to the touch. It was the sort of temperature to muddle consciousness and Wars wasn’t sure how aware of being awake, of talking to them, Twilight actually was. “But tell us what happened anyway.”
Twilight managed a nod, leaning his weight against Sky. That concerned Sky if only because Twilight was usually so reluctant to lean on the others for anything. He shivered in the chosen heroes arms, misery written on his pallid complexion. Sky noticed an ill sort of scent now that Twilight wore clean clothes.
“Shadows overtook me,” Twilight answered. “‘N I hurt you ‘n Wild. ‘N then Time he–” Twilight paused, breath catching over a cough. “‘N then Time cut my throat.”
Sky’s grip on Twilight tightened. Wars nodded slightly, mulling it over.
Finally the captain smiled. “Even in your dreams you can’t beat me,” he snickered.
Twilight glanced up, pausing before he laughed until his laughing turned into a coughing fit that left him hunched over and spitting thick yellow-green mucus into his hand. He wheezed for air, falling into Sky with another shiver. Wars frowned slightly, unsure if it was an infection or some kind of viral illness. Either way, having the rancher cough up anything, especially with his temperature, meant it was contagious. Wars flicked his gaze to Sky. The chosen hero met the look and understood its meaning, but stubbornly refused to let go of Twilight.
“He doesn’t feel well,” Sky said simply.
Wars frowned. “We don’t need both of you sick.”
“Worry about Wild and Four more,” Sky argued. “I’m not leaving him.”
Wars drew in a breath, but he conceded, letting Sky do as he pleased. Twilight was hardly present enough to follow their conversation as he focused on breathing.
Sky rubbed Twilight’s back. “Easy, rancher. In and out, okay?”
Twilight nodded vaguely, coughing up more snot. “M’tired,” he mumbled after a moment, falling back into a drowsy feverish stupor. His breaths were shallow and noisy, each inhale brought a sharp pain into his ribs, each gasp well earned.
Sky pulled Twilight down into his lap. The rancher curled in on himself, trying to steal as much of the chosen hero’s warmth as he could as he shivered under the blanket. His whole being felt ill . If it didn’t ache, it was weak, and everything was cold and hot and sweaty and his skin felt like it was crawling.
Sky quietly petted Twilight’s sweaty hair, rocking him gently. “He needs medicine,” he told Wars quietly.
Wars nodded, gathering his mouth in thought. “He can’t travel like this. Time and Legend can go in the morning.” The captain shook his head. “I’m worried about his breathing.” On top of the rancher’s labored breaths, there was the issue of his high fever and if he sweated too much, he was at risk of dehydrating.
“I’ll stay up with him,” Sky said. “We’ll move his bedroll off on its own and I’ll stay with him.”
Wars seemed reluctant, but he nodded. If Time and Legend were going to be away to fetch medicine, Wars needed to stay healthy to wrangle the others.
“Thank you, Sky,” Wars sighed. “I’m sorry to make you do this.”
Sky shook his head, offering a smile. “Not at all. It’s my watch, remember?”
Twilight whimpered slightly, right hand squeezing his left arm again. He wasted his breath on rambling apologies and incoherent prayers, words interrupted by deep swallows of air.
“He’s delirious,” Wars assessed gravely, unable to follow the man’s inane ramblings.
The captain stood and fetched Wild’s bag. He pawed through it, finding a few ice jellies which he wrapped in the damp washcloth and pressed to Twilight’s forehead. It seemed to ease the waking nightmare enough to settle Twilight's gasping breaths.
Wars felt frustrated with himself–how could he not see Twilight was getting ill but moreover, why was he so powerless to treat it?
“I’m sorry,” he sighed at Twilight. “Just hold on. You’ll have medicine tomorrow.’
“Captain,” Sky offered. “Get some rest. You have a long day ahead of you. I’ll sleep tomorrow when everyone else can keep an eye on him.”
Wars hesitated, but finally he nodded. Sky had a point and Wars had no better ideas. The captain stood, shuffling back to bed. He laid down, angry with himself, sorry for Twilight. He heard Sky singing a soft lullaby to Twilight after a moment, and Wars’ heart sank. He just hoped the rancher would be free of nightmares for the rest of the night.