A Lost Creation

Ugly Duckling

"Star!"

"Star... Come on."

"Star."

You don't reply, curled up in bed like a baby, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping for the pain searing through your head and knocking your stomach sick to pass.

"Star..." Dabi's hand rests on your shoulder, gently pulling you onto your back. "Hey...what's up hon?"

You groan a little, still sweating despite feeling freezing cold. You want to reply, but you feel so sick that you can't open your mouth in fear you might puke. Instead you just look at him with teary eyes.

"Oh, darlin'." He says, looking sadly down at you. "You feelin' sick?"

You manage to nod and reply weakly. "My head hurts."

He moves your damp hair out of your face gently, looking a little torn.

"I'll hafta get someone else to come check your temperature hon. I can't feel it too well if you're burnin' up." He explains softly. "S' a shame. Someone special's come to see ya."

"Special?" You manage to ask weakly.

"Your favourite uncle's here." He explains. "But if you're sick he'll hafta come another time."

"I'll be okay." You say, trying to sit up and failing.

Dabi presses you back down to the bed again gently, shaking his head.

"Stay here. Behave." He says firmly, rubbing his thumb along your cheek a couple of times before standing up from your bed again. "Love you."

"Cuddle." You reach for him.

"In a bit." He says softly. "Y'gonna hurl?"

"I'm trying not to..."

"Listen ta me." Dabi says, crouching down to look at you properly as you lay in bed. "I know bein' sick is horrible, but if you stop yourself doin' it, all that poison is gonna stay inside you an' keep making ya feel sick."

Your lips fall into a frown, and he nods sympathetically.

"Sucks, dunnit? But you gotta get all the gross stuff out. So stop stoppin' yourself, 'kay?"

"Okay..." You agree reluctantly.

"I'll get you a bucket." He pats your head softly. "Back in a sec."

He moves your hair back again and kisses your damp forehead without a second thought, closing the blinds and turning the light off in your room before leaving.
You're thankful that he leaves the door ajar at least so there's a little light in the room.
You wish that you hadn't gotten sick so you could see Uncle Giran. It had been so long since you'd seen him and you missed him a lot. You wanted to tell him about Tomura agreeing to put you in art school when you're older and you wanted to see his prosthetics in person.

At least this time you have Dabi to look after you while you're sick. Mom hadn't really done that before.

Another wave of nausea hits you and you whimper slightly as it happens, Dabi still not having returned with a bucket yet.
You curl up on your side again, squeezing your eyes shut and willing the sickness away.
You don't even register the door opening again or hear Dabi re-enter until you feel a cool hand press against your forehead.

You open your eyes, gazing at Tomura.
He's frowning slightly, deepening already existing wrinkles as he looks down at you with the back of his hand pressed against your forehead.

"She's running a slight fever." Tomura states, removing his hand from your head just in time for you to weakly sit up and lean over the bed to be sick.

"Oh, Starshine." Dabi says sadly, rubbing your back gently.