sam raised his brows and quickly took the soup from knox so he could throw up what he'd tried to get down. he frowns, watchines, wishes he could help somehow. maybe a hand on his back?

but then he's finished, it's over, and sam hands him the soup back again. his thought is that knox has thrown up a good portion of the broth. hopefully they won't be sending all the poké down the drain, so to speak.

"i'm not sure how to, put it..." how that he's seeing knox miserable. he doesn't want to make knox feel worse. "i just... if nausea medicine would help you not feel nauseated enough to throw up, then wouldn't it be beneficial to get some and take it so you don't throw up everything you try and put into your body? if you become too dehydrated, i'll have to steal more ivs."

which could get problematic. really problematic. not that he minds, he'd do it, he'd just have eden texting him, 'where'd the bag go sam what's he doing now?'

knox prescott

keeping his eyes open is starting to become difficult. but they burn every time he closes his eyes. too dried out. and his tongue is thick and tastes like potato soup and stomach bile. 

after sam's conversation with eden, knox is fairly certain sam will take whatever anger knox directs at him with a grain of salt and take him to the hospital anyway. a fact which makes him pale.

"you're right," he says, albeit begrudgingly. because the alternative is worse, and griping about it if sam is going to push is even more so. he doesn't want to lash out, really, but the world is spinning and there are black spots on his vision and he's fucking over it. 

he takes a sip of water instead. small. useless, in the grand scheme of things. 

"if you go, will you be quick?"

samuel carter

☉

"it's not about being right, i just want what's best for your health, so you live as long as i do."

be it hangovers, withdraws, use of substances, or reckless nights with his sister-- sam just wants knox to live, and he hopes that he's made that evident. he shifts up and gives knox a kiss, flinching as he pulls away and is thankful it was just a quick kiss.

because wow what a taste, but he holds himself still. he doesn't wipe his lips and he doesn't make a face. he just smiles and heads toward his gardevoir.

"very quick! and, uh," now he's wiping his face since he's out of view, and he pulls out his other gardevoir and releases her with an apologetic smile. "i'll take ..." oh gods he can't call this gardevoir 'the replacement' but how will knox now the difference?!

"erm, i'll take not usually the one i use gardevoir, and leave my usual here with you-- i really need to name them." he's pulling a shirt on as he takes his gardevoir's hand. "i'll be right back, then you can take the medicine and sleep."

knox prescott

so you live as long as i do. there he goes talking about a future again. knox is reminded of their first conversation: he told sam he lived every day like it were his last. but he can't do that anymore now, can he? he can't throw everything away and hope to see the dawn. 

sam gets closer and then kisses him and knox is absolutely mortified. his cheeks go pink and he covers his mouth with his hand, knowing full well just how awful it is. he hasn't brushed his teeth in days and he's been vomiting for an hour. 

he doesn't say anything. he just lets sam grab his stuff and go and only after he's gone does he exhale. he stands. or, well, he tries to, but his vision blurs and he stumbles. he'd fall, but sam's gardevoir is there to catch him. 

"thanks," he says and she leads him to the sink, where he brushes furiously for at least two minutes. finally, he spits, rinses his mouth, and already feels his stomach settling a bit from the minty taste. 

she helps him sit and then she stands there with her hands folded in front of her. it reminds knox of his father's attendants. so he pats the space next to him and she hesitates, then folds her legs next to him. 

he tries something then. he probes with his thoughts and is, surprisingly, not met with the same mental 'static' as he had with hypatia. she cocks her head and he asks her a question. it's clumsy because it's less words - it's more color and spirals and a touch of shadow. 

but somehow she understands and she says, aether. 

"it's pretty," he says. and then, "does sam know?" she looks...sad? for a moment. and then shakes her head.

he hugs his shins and rests his chin on his knees. "we'll fix him up. i'm sure he'll think your name's pretty too."

samuel carter

☉

what a day to be the clerk at that pharmacy, sam's sure. he got there, ran around and used the app to the best of his ability to find the items, and then quickly was back in the room.

he makes his way to the bathroom and doesn't think twice about his gardevoir sitting next to knox, or knox curled up. he doesn't feel well, sam would be curled up like that if it were him. he sets a few of the items down.

"so i got, these. for nausea. and there's these, to help you with the swelling."

he looked up, looking over knox, then at his gardevoir.

"is it possible to help him with your--" but she answers him before he even finishes his sentence, reflecting in psychic waves that she cannot, that it is not sickness that she can heal, but wounds. requires different energies.

which has sam immediately widening his eyes and he actually leaps up with a motherfucking 'whoop' and heads out to his small personal computer.

"aromatherapy!!"

knox prescott

he takes the proffered boxes and rips open the nausea one. and when he pops one out, he stares at it in his palm. because here's another reason why he doesn't buy these medications to help him through it. because it keeps the motions, the muscle memory, fresh. and then when he doesn't need them, what does he do?

he finds a way to need them again. 

sam converses with garde- aether and knox pays them no mind. he's about to toss the pill back, with water this time, thinking that will make it different enough, but then sam startles him. 

he spouts something and then traipses away, leaving knox alone and looking at aether with confusion. so he just leaves it, takes the pill, and then reads the instructions. it says to take with food. 

so he swallows a couple of tentative gulps of soup and sits back. i'll even take this much if it means i can sleep. 

"sam?"

samuel carter

☉

sam is back into the bathroom and he has a comfey following behind him with delightful chimes and happy noises. when she sees gardevoir, she twirls and twists her body and lets out a delighted little giggle-- and then she pauses, and sneezes, and pollen falls; so she blushes bashfully.

"persephone, can you try aromatherapy? no wait--" he looked to knox, looking him over, concerned. "are you allergic to flowers?"

his gardevoir remains calm. the pollen, she uses her PSYCHIC, to collect all of it and put it in the toilet, beneath it's surface, so it's not aromatic and creating unnecessary sneezing.

knox prescott

the last thing he expects is for sam to come back with a lei-lookalike. she is the exact opposite of most of the rest of the rest of his team, but that is most certainly not a bad thing. he'd take persephone over alecto any day. but still, he has no clue where sam is going with this. 

"poison ivy? i think? but otherwise no?" he's familiar with poppy flowers, but probably not in the sense that sam could relate. 

the bathroom's getting a bit crowded now with the four of them in it. and although his teeth are bright and shiny now, he's still feeling a bit . . . vulnerable. but at least the last bit of food is staying down, alongside the pill. 

he opts for another bite.

samuel carter

☉

feeling the discomfort, the gardevoir fills the sink with a bit of LIFE DEW just in case, and then heads out of the bathroom to dismiss herself from them, give them room to breathe.

"i thought we could try aromatherapy. it's for illnesses and ailments, as to where gardevoir's healing is more for physical damage."

he'd heard that a lot of traveling physicians had grass types and fairy types with them for that very reason.

"people aren't a far cry different for pokémon... if you're feeling like you won't throw up immediately, we can get to bed, and persephone can give some aromatherapy while you try to fall asleep. or, we can sleep in here, just in case."

knox prescott

his heart hurts again. his stomach fluxes and he moves out of reflex, but this time, with effort, he's able to stave off letting anything come up. it's a small victory, but it's something. he looks after the gardevoir when she leaves and then turns his attention to sam, who is almost vibrating with the excitement of his discovery. 

it's because of this that he'll go along with it. not because he think it'll help. not in the slightest. it's not something he likes to talk about, but knox's sense of smell doesn't really exist anymore. sam's scent, he'd only gotten, because he'd swaddled himself in his clothes and his blankets. and even then, it was muted. 

he regrets his loss and he smiles. "okay," he says. "let's try it. and then if i finish this bowl, we wait a bit, and then we can crawl into bed." he licks chapped lips. "might want to keep a bucket by the bed just in case."

samuel carter

☉

"we'll worry about the bucket if we make it that far."

sam smiles, moving to give knox a kiss on the forehead, then his cheek, and then hovers his lips near his ear while he presses their temples together.

"thank you for fighting, and for trying, for me..."

with that, he leans back and nods to persephone. with a delighted squeal, she moves to wrap herself around knox' shoulders and proceeds to give off her AROMATHERAPY. sam's hope, is that it will get into the air and help to soak into his very bones if they have to.

it might not magically cure him right away, but it could help, right? could help curve the nausea, help curve the pain and the exhaustion...right?

all he can do is hope. and while he hopes, he moves to sit beside knox and wraps and arm around him, holds him, but in a way that allows him to get to the toilet if he has to.

knox prescott

i haven't been thanked like that in a while. 

ollie standing over him, nudging his ankle, telling him to cut the bullshit or they're done. and he does, for a while, and then ollie is softer because knox isn't mean, and he thanks him, gently, for making everything better. for making it all okay. 

eden with her head on his shoulder, confession on her sleeve, telling him all the ways he's wrong for her, but how badly she wishes it were right. and he's saying i'll try, i promise. that smile. gods, he misses that smile. 

summer's sneer and her rolling eyes, always at a distance. except when she were by his hospital bed, begging him to stop, believing in him, thanking him for pulling through. 

he reaches out a tentative hand as a pinkish mist exudes from the comfee around his neck. his fingers find sam's knuckles and he relaxes, but he's still lost in thought. he's still far away, back to all those times because if he tries to come back to the present, he'll have to catch up. he'll have to go through the heartbreak and the disappointment. 

samuel carter

☉

knox is quiet. sam assumes it's because he's sleeping, so he lets the moments pass. when the aromatherapy stops, persephone remains. because they're warm and she's comfortable.

sam notices the change in the atmosphere and it brings him to solid ground. his foundation for reality shows. he's blinking his eyes open and looking to knox...soft, beautiful, tired, broken, hurt, bruised, special knox. his knox. my knox.

"...i believe in you." sam said softly into his ear. "even if you don't believe in yourself."

because reflecting on everything, that's what sam figured it boiled down to. the way he's always pushing away, the way it's never sam's fault and it's only knox' fault. somebody told knox that he wasn't worth saving at some point and knox was so emotionally bruised or maimed from his father and the rest of his life that he fucking believed them.

and sam's new determination was to help knox find belief in himself. somehow, in some way. no matter what.

knox prescott