TW: sickness, throwing up/vomiting, we got an ill boi in the house
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Tango knew something was wrong with Zed the moment he walked through the door.

He looked drowsy and incoherent, as if he'd only just dragged himself out of bed, that is, if he'd actually gone to bed at all. Tango knew that Zed had recently had a few nights without sleep, so much so that it was causing a growing worry amongst him and the other hermits. It felt like someone else had replaced the Zedaph they knew and loved, someone dead and dreary.

Tango recalled the last town meeting, when he and Xisuma had confronted Zed about what was going on. They told him that they knew something was wrong and that him denying it was hurting them more than he could imagine. Tango asked if he was having nightmares again, and all he'd done was shrug. Xisuma asked if it had something to do with Ex, and Zed had looked at the voidwalker in a mix of fear and grief before giving the slightest of nods.

A stammer of false reassurance had followed and Zed's voice had filled with the regret of telling them.

He wasn't okay. If only he knew it was alright not to be.

They'd told Zedaph they were there for him. They gave him hugs and comfort and careful affection and he gave back that same old blank stare, and sometimes a forced smile or laugh. At least Tango made him promise he'd get some sleep.

Tango thought he and X had gotten through to him that day. Clearly they hadn't.

If they had, the Zedaph at his doorstep wouldn't be wearing the same fake smile under a hollow gaze and unkempt hair.

"Pancake day?" Zed forced his face into a wider smile. Even his voice sounded terrible, quiet and disused, rough and nasally like he was sick. He even looked sick with his pale skin and the dark circles under his eyes.

Tango didn't have the heart to tell him it was waffle day. They could make pancakes instead if that's what Zed wanted. "Yep, come on in. I've got the ingredients out and everything." An almost dullness resonated through his own words, as if Zed's sadness had brushed off on him.

Zed didn't respond other than stepping inside and closing the door behind him, and Tango wrapped an arm around his shoulders as he led them to the kitchen. Tango discreetly swapped out the waffle maker on his stove for a frying pan, and the two got started.

The mere five minutes it took to make the pancake batter should've been calm, but it was unbearably tense. Tango was failing to make small talk and every millisecond that passed felt horribly quiet without Zedaph to fill the space with his excited chatter and unbridled glee. He should've been going on and on about a new contraption, and Tango should've replied with excited remarks and ideas for how he could make it work. Their conversations weren't supposed to be this one-sided.

Once they'd whisked the batter enough, Zed moved to grab the bowl and bring it to the other side of the kitchen where the stove was. When he lifted the bowl, however, his hands shook and trembled, and the batter threatened to spill onto Tango's kitchen tile.

"Zed, you wanna sit down for a bit?" Tango asked, taking the bowl from his hands, "I think you might be a bit sick, bud." Zed really did look unwell, and if he was indeed sick, Tango didn't want him exerting himself too much.

Zedaph didn't have the energy to protest like he usually would have and just nodded, letting his eyelids droop a little. Tango placed his bowl back down and took Zed's hand, leading him over to the kitchen table and sitting him down gently. Turning away for a moment he grabbed another bowl off the counter, this one full of sweet strawberries and sugar to make into sauce, and placed it in front of Zed along with a fork.

"You can mash the strawberries if you'd like," Tango offered, knowing Zed would be upset that he wasn't helping. "You don't have to if you're too tired—"

"No no, I got it," Zed interrupted, grabbing the utensil and already getting to work.

"Alright then," Tango flashed him a soft smile and headed back to the stove and turned it on. "How many would you like?"

"Uh, two I think, for now," Zed answered after a pause.

"Will do!" Tango replied, pouring the first puddle of batter into the pan. The making of pancakes was always a repetitive process, a familiarity in each step. Pour, wait, flip, wait, collect. It was simple, methodical. But it felt bittersweet this time, knowing that just a few weeks ago they'd be cracking jokes between each flip and becoming so engrossed in each other's company that they burned the pancakes, and then teased one another about it.

Tango still talked, telling a story here and a redstone plan there, but it felt empty nonetheless. He made only five pancakes before clicking the stove off and letting the flames recede. If they wanted more they'd make them. For now he grabbed some plates, two pancakes on one for Zed, three for himself, and put the batter bowl back on the other counter that distinctly lacked any mess. No sugar spill, no eggshell, no chaos.

"And voila! Perfectly pancake-alicious," Tango looked away from the clean countertop and carried the plates to the table before sitting across from Zed. Now finished with the strawberry sauce, Zed pushed it to the middle of the table so they could share. Tango heaped some on top of his pancakes, and stole a little taste from the end of the serving spoon.

"Is it alright?" Zed asked him, his shaky hands fidgeting nervously.

"It's wonderful Zed," Tango reassured, "Perfectly chunky and viscous, just the way I like it."

"Eww, don't say it like that," Zed made a face a the description, and Tango felt a surge of joy because that expression wasn't fake. He still gave a smug smile back, and the two of them dug into their breakfasts.

Tango ate his in slices, taking chunks of all three pancakes at once, while Zed chipped away at his top one in a slower manner. Personally, Tango had thought he'd done a pretty good job with this batch, as he hadn't even burnt one. But glancing away from his nearly finished plate, he noticed Zed was barely halfway through one pancake, the fork in his hand shaking.

He thought back to how he'd noticed Zed looked sick earlier. To be fair he still looked terribly sick, and like he was struggling to swallow. "Zeddy?" Tango found himself murmuring in concern.

Zedaph forced down another bite and dropped his fork, looking like he was trying not to choke. "I- I don't think I'm a- all that hungry," he stammered, nudging his plate away slightly. He lowered his arms down to hug his stomach and let out a few shaky exhales.

Zed stared at the table with glassy eyes. Tango knew that look, that was a bad look. Abandoning his own plate, he jumped from his spot at the table and circled around to Zed's side. "Zed, are you gonna be sick?" Tango placed a hand on his shaking shoulders.

Zedaph didn't answer, instead forcing out another set of labored breaths and gripping the edge of the table with one hand under white knuckles. He let out a quiet, but high pitched whine, face scrunching up in discomfort.

"You're, you're gonna be okay, it'll pass..." Tango tried to comfort, though his panicked tone probably wasn't very nice. He rubbed gently at Zed's shoulders, only for him to jerk away, keeling over and sucking in a sharp breath. He puffed up his cheeks and covered his mouth with both hands.

"Oh- oh shit, not good." Tango breathed out.

Zed dry heaved and Tango lunged for the trash can in the corner of the room. Grabbing the small can by its edge, Tango rushed back to Zed and pivoted his chair away from the table. Zed, having been leaning forward to far, fell out of the chair and onto his knees, and Tango pressed the trash can into his arms, kneeling down next to him.

He'd made it just in time, and all of Zed's breakfast was purged into that poor innocent trash can. Tango rubbed circles into his back as he kept heaving, even when the all of the pancake bits and bile he had to offer made their way up. "Good, good, get it all out bud, you're doing great."

After mere seconds that felt far too long, Zed lifted his head with a gasp for air. He pushed away the trash can and let out a groan of discomfort. Tango squeezed his shoulder softly, "I bet that didn't feel great, huh? Lemme get you some water real quick, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer, instead pulling himself off the floor and hurrying to the kitchen.

Tango filled a free glass with cold tap water and rushed it back to Zed as fast as he could. "Swish and spit, yeah?" Tango helped him hold the glass since his hands were far too shaky to do it on his own. Zed did as he was told, cleaning out his mouth until the cup was empty.

Tango placed the cup down, pushed the trash can far away, and gathered Zed into his arms. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" He asked in worry, running a hand through Zed's messy hair.

"Didn' think it was bad," Zed sniffled, voice wavering and his words slurring together a little. His shoulders shook as he buried himself into Tango's embrace.

"It's alright," Tango reassured, "let's take the rest of the day off, hmm? Get some good old R and R." He pulled back slightly and held Zed by his shoulders, briefly letting go with one hand to feel his forehead for a high temperature. Zed was warm, very much so.

That fact would've been fine, it would've been fine if Tango weren't a heat resistant blaze hybrid. For the most part, when at a normal temperature, all the other hermits felt quite cold to the touch to Tango, and at a regular fever, they'd be room temperature, about. But Zedaph was warm. Like, wrapped in five blankets on a summer day, warm. And that meant that to any other hermit... he was burning up.

Tango felt panic bubbling up in his throat, this wasn't good. He could only imagine how high Zed's temperature was right now. It explained why he'd been acting groggy the whole time, at least.

Okay, okay, what could he do? Tango tried to coach himself through some deep breaths before he fell further into the anxiety. He didn't have any fever medication in his first aid supplies, since he couldn't get them himself. Stress probably had some— wait, he did have one thing, one of Stress' cure-all health potions. He'd reserved it for an emergency, and it would probably make Zed feel loads better.

"Here, you probably don't wanna be sitting on the floor, huh?" Tango purred, wrapping an arm around Zed's shoulders and pulling him up into the chair he'd fallen out of. "I've got a little somethin' I can give you to make you feel a lot better. I'll be right back."

Tango flashed Zed a soft smile before hurrying off towards his bathroom. His potion was somewhere in one of the cabinets in there. As quickly as he could, he started throwing open cabinet after cabinet, and each second he couldn't find the dang thing, his heart seemed to beat a little bit faster. Finally, he saw a small glint of pink at pulled out the potion bottle.

Sighing with relief, he swished the sugary sweet magenta potion around. Tango spun around and stumbled back, nearly crashing into Zedaph, who'd appeared in the doorway out of nowhere.

"Whoa, Zed! You shouldn't be up and about too much, come on, I've got the potion, let's sit you back down." Tango fretted, hands hovering over Zed, ready to catch him if he fell over.

"I'm f'ne, T'ngo," Zed leaned against the doorframe, heavy breaths suggesting otherwise. "I don' need..." he trailed off, swatting at Tango's hands.

"O-Okay, just, just take the potion for me, alright?" Tango pressed the round bottle into Zed's hands.

"...fine," Zed grumbled in annoyance before uncorking the bottle. The potion's cloyingly sweet scent wafted into the air, and Zed seemed to choke back a gag. He hesitated for a moment before taking a tiny sip and scrunching his face up in disgust. "I know it doesn't taste great, but try and drink the whole thing, it won't work if you don't." Tango reassured.

Zed nodded and swallowed thickly. He brought the bottle back up to his mouth and forced down nearly all of the potion, and he handed the bottle back to Tango with a disgusted expression. Tango felt a surge of relief, knowing that once that kicked in Zed would be a whole ton better.

"Perfect, perfect," he smiled, placing the bottle back on the bathroom counter. "You can get some rest now, that'll start working in no time. I've got my guest bed all set up so you can sleep there... though I suppose we could make it back to your place since your house isn't far..."

"'m not tired," Zed lied, interrupting Tango's ramble. His eyes seemed to have gone wider at the mention of sleeping.

"Uhm, you should still try to sleep though, it's like, the best way to un-sickificate yourself," Tango countered, not having expected Zed to argue.

"I'm fine I don' feel tha' sick," Zed folded his arms defiantly. Tango swallowed thickly, reminding himself that Zed was probably just being stubborn because he was sick. It wasn't personal. "I'm fine." Zed reiterated.

But that wasn't true. Zedaph was anything but fine, and that sent a deep, permeating pain into Tango's heart. All he wanted was to help Zed.

"You're not fine," Tango blurted out sharply, finding himself on the verge of crying. "You haven't been fine, Zeddy. Just let me help you."

Zed stared at him, numbly, tiredly. Tired was an understatement. Even exhausted was an understatement at this point. His breath hitched in his throat, whatever response he planned to give simply dying on his tongue.

"You're really sick, okay?" Tango continued, his voice lowering into a murmur, "I don't want you to get any worse... whatever you're going through right now is bad enough. You just need to lay down for a while, take it easy and let yourself heal."

Tension hung heavy between them in an uncomfortable wave of silence. Zed's eyes flicked back and forth across the room for a good minute before he gave the smallest, most minuscule nod. His features dropped into an uncomfortable frown, and he let himself hunch over. He took a stumbling step forward and Tango caught him in his arms.

"It's gonna be okay," Tango whispered, running a hand through Zed's curls. Zed shuddered in his arms, breath hitching with sobs. Tango wasn't sure how long they stood there, holding each other close. Eventually, Zed mumbled something, and groggily lifted his head off Tango's shoulder.

"I'm.. I don' feel good..." he muttered, finally giving in to the discomfort. Tango countered with a soft smile. "I can imagine, yeah."

"I- I 'fink I'm 'onna throw up 'gain..." Zed trailed off, letting go of Tango to wrap his arms around his stomach. Tango felt a surge of panic, but forced himself to keep his calm demeanor, for Zed's sake. "Let's stay here then, until the nausea passes."

Tango held onto Zed's shoulder to keep him stable, his mind racing. He really wasn't cut out for this, he had almost no idea how to care for Zed at this point. What if his fever went up more? Weren't you supposed to take someone to a doctor if they had a high fever? Tango was wracking his mind for any knowledge that might be in there.

Zedaph took a small step back, reaching out to grab onto the edge of the sink. He looked between it and Tango, wearing the same expression he had when he'd thrown up before. Tango bit down on the inside of his cheek, worry taking control. Please don't throw up again Zed, please don't.

Whatever dumb sickness Zedaph had obviously didn't care about Tango's opinion, however. Zed gagged, once, twice, and Tango jumped forward, holding Zed's shoulders and turning him to the sink. He keeled over, and Tango watched as all of the potion he'd given him went down the sink drain. Zedaph panted as he stared down at the mess he'd made in the sink. When he eventually tore his gaze away, Tango would've sworn he'd gone even paler and gotten even shakier.

Tango felt a wave of deja vu as he murmured quiet comforts and rinsed the mess away, but his head was spinning in a way it hadn't been before. That was his only potion, and he doubted any of it had worked in that short time Zed had kept it down for. He could get more potions from Stress, but he'd have to leave Zed by himself... and he'd probably just throw it up again.

The best thing he could probably do was just take Zedaph directly to Stress and Doc's infirmary, except what if they didn't really do anything about it? He was only sick, it wasn't like he'd had a Scar-level accident. Tango sucked in an anxious breath, and reached up to feel Zed's temperature again.

Had... had he gotten hotter?

Tango couldn't tell for sure, but he knew it was bad, he had to get Zed cooled down. Did he even have the right things to do that? Would Stress?

"T'ngo?" Zed mumbled, wrenching him out of his thoughts. "Wha's wrong?"

"Just thinking," Tango muttered, pulling Zed into a side hug. (He probably wouldn't get sick too, nether biology and all, but if he did he wouldn't care at this point) "Do you think you can make it down to the infirmary with me? I think your fever's getting higher and I don't know what to do, and Stress can probably get you another potion too."

"Mhmm, I can," Zedaph said with as much confidence as he could muster. Tango didn't feel too reassured by that, since Zed was barely standing upright, but all they needed to do was walk a couple houses down. They could make it, he told himself, even if it sounded like a lie.

"Alright, it's not very far, and you can lean on me the whole way, yeah? And once we get there, Stress and Doc can give you everything you need to make the sicky sick go away." Tango led Zedaph out of the bathroom, holding onto him the whole way. As they passed the kitchen, he noticed Zed cast a wary glance at their breakfasts, before huddling into Tango's side.

Step after wobbly step, they slowly made it out the door. Tango wasn't sure if the warm summer air would make Zed worse or better, but he barely seemed to register that they were even outside in the first place. It was a peaceful morning at least, the world quiet except for the crunch of the gravel under their feet, and the breeze rustling through the trees. Unfortunately, the peace did nothing to calm Tango's nerves.

He cast a quick glance down at Zed, wondering briefly if picking up the pace was a bad idea. It had started feeling like heat was just radiating off of the sick hybrid, and Tango knew he needed to get him to the infirmary as fast as possible. They were almost there, he noted, looking up. They just had to go through the main courtyard area, and to the right a little.

Tango walked a little faster.

In hindsight, he probably should've noticed that Zed's arm had started to slip from around his neck. He should've noticed that the weight pressed firmly into his side was becoming unsteady. He should've noticed the change from soft gravel to bumpy cobblestones under his feet. Tango didn't bother to see any of these things, however, eyes only for the salvation ahead.

Zed tripped, losing his grip and toppling towards the ground like a sand filled test dummy. Tango yelped in surprise, and at this point he must've had the reflexes of a superhero, because he just barely managed to catch Zed before his head hit the ground. Zedaph dangled off of him in a strange position, half lidded eyes trained at the sky.

"Zed, Zed a-are you okay?" Tango stammered out in a panic. He tried to pull Zedaph back to his feet, but he didn't cooperate, trembling and limp like a noodle. Zed tried to say something, but it just came out as a mumbled mish-mash of noises.

Zed started to slip from his grasp, until there was a sudden blur of movement and the struggle stopped. A figure, another hermit, obviously, had appeared on the other side of Zed and was helping support him. "Tango? Zedaph?"

Tango looked up to see none other than Beef, taller frame towering over the two of them, and expression knitted tight with concern. "I was across the courtyard, and- and I saw him fall... are you alright Zedaph?"

Zed stayed silent, leaning all of his weight into the other two. Tango tried to swallow back another wave of panic, stammering out an explanation to Beef. "I- I, He's really sick, an' I was trying to take 'im to Stress' cause I didn't know what to do... I thought he could make it fine, I- I—"

"Tango, hey, breathe," Beef interrupted him, "breathe, it's gonna be alright. I've got him." Beef leaned down and hooked an arm around Zed's knees, lifting him away from Tango and into his arms. Zed let out a groan and blinked a few times, but didn't protest otherwise. (If Tango had been strong enough to pick up Zed like that, this whole ordeal could've gone a lot faster, he realized)

"Let's go," Beef said, rushing off towards the infirmary. Tango scrambled forward, taking the lead in front of Beef. Behind him, he heard Beef mumbling a few quiet comforts to Zed.

It took only a few mere moments for them to reach the building across the courtyard. It was a small offshoot from Stress' actual house, serving as the town clinic and infirmary. (Even though Doc was also medically inclined, his place had far too many dangerous redstone machines around for the infirmary to be there too.)

Tango let out a long breath, Beef catching up behind him, and flung the door open, calling out for Stress as soon as he stepped foot inside. He scanned his eyes across the lobby, searching desperately for the woman. Soon enough, Stress popped out from one of the back rooms, concern in her eyes. "Tango? What's— oh, oh dear—" she cut herself off, noticing the hermit in Beef's arms.

Stress rushed over to where they stood, immediately fretting over Zed. "What's happened?"

"He- He's really sick Stress, I didn't— I didn't know what do do..." Tango's voice was quick and stammering, "He kept throwing up anything he ate, an- and his fever's just so high, and he's stopped being responsive..."

"Oh, poor luv," Stress murmured, motioning for them to follow her over to one of a few small rooms. This one just had one bed, and was decorated with soft purple wallpaper. "Did you give 'im anyfing already? Any medicines?"

"A- one of your health potions, but he threw it right back up." Tango answered. "I don't think it helped at all."

Stress pursed her lips in concern, thinking for a moment. "Alright, I've got some o'fer 'fings that'll work." She turned around, opening some cabinets at the back of the room and pulling stuff out. "You can set 'im down in the bed, Beef."

Beef nodded, a gently placed Zed on the edge of the bed, so he was in a sitting position. "Do ya want him lying down or..." he trailed off, looking between Stress and her sick patient.

"'e's fine there luv," Stress turned back, face pulled tight in an expression Tango couldn't quite decipher. She crouched down a little, and waved a hand in front of Zedaph's eyes. Zed blinked down at her, still semi-conscious at least. "Hey there, can ya hear me hun?"

Zedaph let out a strange hum, and Stress placed the back of her hand to his forehead. Her face pulled into a frown, and she pulled out a small external thermometer and held it to his head instead. A moment later it gave a loud beep, and Stress bit back a wince to whatever the readout was. "Beef? Ya know where the ice packs are?"

"I think so," Beef responded, getting a small relieved sigh from Stress. "Grab me a few, yeah?"

"On it!" Beef nodded and turned on his heel, heading out to the lobby. Tango followed him with his eyes before looking back to Zed.

"Is- i-is it bad?" He stumbled over his words, heart racing too fast. Something was unnerving about the way Stress kept the thermometer at a careful angle so that he couldn't read it. Was it so bad she didn't want him to see?

"Well it's not good..." She said cryptically. Behind her, Zed looked like he was using all of his energy just to keep his eyes open. He seemed to give up, shutting his eyes and letting out a shaky sigh. Stress stood up, eyes still fixed on Zed.

"But 'e'll be just fine Tango, I know you're worried," Stress gave a soft smile, before heading to the other side of the room to put the thermometer back away.

When she spun back around, Zedaph soundlessly slumped backwards, clearly passing out. Tango jumped forward to catch him out of instinct, and Stress zipped back to the bedside. "Oh- oh luv..." Stress cupped a hand around Zed's cheek, "'e fainted."

Stress shifted to wrap an arm around Zed's shoulders, and she pulled him into a proper position, laying his head on the pillow. Tango fidgeted where he stood, scratching at his cuticles and breathing shakily. Somehow, Zed looked even worse unconscious, his features completely slack and emotionless.

In the midst of it all, Beef returned with an armful of ice packs, and he passed them off to Stress.

"Thank ya," Stress cradled the many frigid fellas and started placing them next to Zed. "Sorry 'bout all the favors Beef, but do ya 'fink ya could go find Doc for me? Zed's a little worse than I thought, and I could use his help. And maybe let 'Isuma know? 'E's always worried about these kind of 'fings."

"Doc and Xisuma, got it! I'll be quick!" Beef flashed her a thumbs up, and ran out of the room.

Tango felt a lump growing in his throat as Stress puttered about the room. Zed was worse than she thought?! Just how bad was it? And how hadn't he noticed sooner? Stress placed one of the softer ice packs on Zed's forehead, and started tucking the blankets over him, meanwhile Tango stayed stuck inside his head. What if Zed had been sick for days already and he just hadn't seen?

Stress turned to him suddenly, calmly putting a hand in his shoulder. "Tango, luv, do ya wanna sit outside for a bit?" She said it like less of a question and more of an order, and Tango flashed his gaze between her and Zed nervously. "I know you're upset about 'im," Stress continued, "but I promise ya he'll be alright, given some time. Just sit out in the hall for now, yeah? Work on ya breathing and calm down a bit."

"Al- alright, okay," Tango nodded, swallowing thickly. He stepped back and Stress' hand slipped off his shoulder. Tango flashed one last glance at Zedaph's frail looking form and slipped out of the room. He pressed his back to the wall just outside the door at let out a sad huff.

They'd been in the first of the four main infirmary rooms, there were two on each side of the hallway, with benches inbetween each. Tango moved to sit down on one of the cushioned benches, and he pulled his knees up to his chest. Resting his head in his arms, he listened to his own shaky breathing.

This was horrible, Zedaph didn't deserve to get sick that badly. He already hadn't been doing well at all. Tango knew he couldn't do anything to stop sickness, but he also knew that he should've intervened sooner into whatever problem Zed was having. He knew that Zed wasn't doing okay, so why didn't he do something about it?

Sure, he and X had talked to him, once, and that clearly hadn't helped things at all. Tango had done everything all wrong.

Because it was clear that Zedaph hadn't been sleeping, and he hadn't been taking care of himself, and maybe it was because he was busy or maybe it was because he was still thinking about Ex, or maybe it was because he was still suffering because of Ex, or maybe it was something else entirely, and maybe all of it had stressed him out and even made him sick, and maybe he was being a terrible friend to Zed, and maybe it was ALL TANGO'S FAULT.

Zedaph was his best friend and it hurt to see his like this. And it hurt to know that he probably could've changed the outcome of he'd just tried hard enough.

Tango sniffled into his sleeve, his head swimming and his heart pounding.

Why did he feel like he was in pain? It shouldn't be him that's in pain, Zedaph was the one with the horrid sickness.

It shouldn't be him...

So why did this hurt so badly?

~ end chapter 19 ~

A/N: wooo we have gone from impulse angst fic to Zedaph sick fic lets go. This is the new longest chapter, standing at just over 5000 words :3

this chapter also reminds me of that one time I threw up in an iHop. No I didn't write it because of that, I just write about pancakes whenever I don't know what the peeps should be eating, it's a habit at this point.