The Unkillable: Death Sworn [INVINCIBLEXREADER]

To Get You Hooked

After a long day of feeling like shit, you laid in bed, feeling more depressed than ever. You thought maybe you'd feel better upon realizing you'd be able to finally sleep- whisk the days and nights away in a blur of strange dreams. But no. Now, you were restless. Rising from bed, you put on a sweatshirt and slipped on a pair of slippers. The pit in your stomach had settled, but it was still there. You didn't want to be alone that night. You didn't want to sleep alone that night in your empty apartment. So, plucking your lanyard of keys from your nightstand, along with your phone, you left your apartment, locking the door behind you on your way out.

It was a short drive to the Graysons' house, but it felt like ages with your fatigue. And yet the resting feeling within your stomach that constantly made you feel so shitty every morning when you awoke only grew.

Parking along the sidewalk of the Grayson's driveway, you left the car, locking it and approaching their front door. You got out your key- the one they made for you all those years ago after you were constantly over at their place for even more years. The door unlocked with ease, and you closed and relocked it behind you as quietly as you could. Almost immediately after you were on their couch, curling into your sweater as you drifted off. You may have still been alone, technically, but the knowledge and feeling of the fact that there were people you cared about and that cared about you nearby helped ease your stress as you drifted off to sleep.

In your half awake state, you felt someone's shadow loom over you. But you were too far into your dreamland to think of it as something to be concerned about.

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You awoke the next morning to the smell and sizzle of bacon on the stove, and the sounds of chattering news reporters on the tv. Groaning, you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, immediately meeting Mark's eyes. "About time you woke up." You quirked a tired brow. "It's a Saturday. What- do you have plans?" You questioned him, seeing as he was fully dressed. He shrugged. "Got things to do, people to hang out with. You to take care of." You let out a breathy laugh, getting up from the couch. Mrs. Grayson smiled up at you as she put breakfast together. "Good morning y/n. How'd you sleep?" You shrugged, gratefully taking the plate of food from her. "Good but also bad. Thanks for breakfast though, it looks delicious." She nodded, smiling. "Thank you." You stood across from Debbie, at the breakfast bar, deciding to eat there rather than the dining table. You took a small bite of bacon as you realized something. "Where's Mr. Grayson?" She shrugged. "Off saving the world, you know the deal. And quit with the formalities- you know you can call us Debbie and Nolan." You let out a chuckle. "Yeah, I know. But what can I say, old habits die hard." She rolled her eyes as she put the pan into the sink, talking with you as you ate your bacon and egg breakfast.

But, after only a minute or so of nibbling on your eggs, a feeling of extreme nausea made its way through your system. You held your stomach as you grimaced. "ShiT-" You croaked, holding a hand to your mouth as you ran to the nearest bathroom, Debbie and Mark giving you worried looks. Closing the door behind you, you immediately moved to the toilet and hunched over it, spilling out your barely digested breakfast. Getting it all out of your system, you groaned, removing your sweatshirt as you felt your forehead. A cold chill of sweat went through you as you heard a knock on the door. "Hey, y/n? You alright in there?" It was Mark. You let out another groan, signalling to him that, no, you were not alright. You heard him mumble a curse before calling out for his mom, who apparently had already been heading up the stairs. "Y/n, sweetie? Can I come in?" You nodded, mumbling out a yes as she opened the door. She knelt by your side, rubbing your back, only to immediately flinch. "You're burning up- bad. Mark-" The boy had already sped off, calling back, "On it!" You let out a bitter chuckle. "What a way to start the day, huh?" Debbie let a slight smile graced her lips, but her expression remained mostly concerned.

Mark came back with a thermometer, cold medicine, and a small medkit, setting it down by his mother's side. He took one look at you, and his concern grew tenfold. "They look really bad- can't I just fly them to the pentagon?" She shook her head. "No- not until we know how bad it is. As you slumped over the toilet with blurry vision and ringing ears, Debbie took your temperature. "Oh my god." Her eyes widened. You and Mark both leaned over, nervous but curious of the results. "Mark, get them to the hospital." She said, Mark's eyes widening as he saw your temperature. "Yep-" He picked you up, rushing downstairs and collecting a plastic baggy before heading into the backyard, and flying off. "If you get sick on the way, throw up into this." He handed you the plastic baggy, and you nodded groggily. Mark pursed his lips, willing himself to go faster as he flew towards the nearest hospital. A part of him wanted to fly you straight to the pentagon and get you the best care he could, but he knew Cecil would probably kill him for it. Not only that, but the hospital was closer. If things got worse, though, he would throw it all out the window anyway and get you there anyway.

"What was it?" You mumbled. "Huh?" He asked, giving you a glance before going back to focusing on the direction he was going. "My temperature.." You rasped, and Mark went silent a moment before responding. "105." Your eyes widened somewhat. "Shit." Didn't think I'd die like this.

Mark landed behind the hospital, and immediately carried you in through the back doors. "Help! Someone, I need a doctor!" He yelled, the doctors and nurses scrambling together to get you on a gurney. He followed them, hearing them speak to one another. "They're burning up- temperature is 109." His eyes widened even more. "There's internal bleeding." Mark pulled out his phone, immediately dialing for Cecil as he was told to stay outside the room they had wheeled you into.

"Better be important, kid." The man grumbled from the other side of the line. "It's my friend- y/n. They woke up just fine, but-" He heard a sigh. "I can't help you with personal problems." Mark shook his head. "No- you don't get it! It's been ten minutes, and- and they're dying! They have a 110 degree fever- they just woke up, and I don't think stuff like that isn't supposed to happen so quickly!" Silence from the other end of the line. "You better not be bullshitting me. My doctors are on their way." Mark let a relieved smile grace his face, tears in his eyes. "Thank you, Cecil." The man replied with a curt, "yeah" before hanging up. Mark ran his hands through his hair. It had all happened so fast, so suddenly. Leaning back up against the wall, he frowned, ridden with worry. "Shit."

The doctors that Cecil had sent arrived soon enough, but only five minutes after they arrived, they had you moved into the pentagon's hospital. Mark came with them, calling his mom and telling her about the situation along the way. He had to wait outside the room while they did what they could, and that was when Donald approached him awkwardly. "You're lucky. If they hadn't been brought here in time, they could've died." Mark looked up to him from his hunched over position. "What happened to them?" Donald stared at the door, a hint concerned as well. "We don't know yet, but we think there's something in their blood."

"Mark!" He stood, seeing Debbie speed down the hall toward him. "Mom!" They hugged, but quickly pulled away. "How are they?" She asked Mark, hands still on his arms. He looked away from her. "It's pretty bad." Debbie's eyes furrowed in worry. "We're still figuring it out." Donald repeated. "I- I don't want to give you two any hope. There's no way of knowing whether they'll be okay. But we've got some of the best working on them." Debbie nodded. "Thank you, Donald." Donald nodded back, seeing that it was his time to go. Mark flinched as he felt his phone vibrate, taking it out and seeing that it was his dad calling him. He immediately answered. "Dad!-"

"Mark! Where are you guys- did you go to get brunch without me?" Nolan chuckled. Mark shook his head, turning from his mom and walking a short distance away. "No- dad, we're at the pentagon. Y/n got sick all of a sudden. Really sick." Nolan's eyes widened. "Oh! Oh- uh, I'm on my way." He then hung up, flying up to his room to change out of his suit, and into regular linen. The man pursed his lips, frowning, and deep in thought. Y/n, you better not die after I took all of this time working on you. Letting out a sigh, he put on his shoes, heading out through the back sliding glass door and flying towards the pentagon.

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No one knew what was going on. Nor did I- or- you. Let's rewind a little, shall we?