route_1065 | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who:

usedtherapy
Where: Dave and John’s hotel room
When: Valentine’s Day, later in the afternoon
Summary: After delivering almost all her Valentine’s day gifts, Rose decides to visit John to give him his present and see if he’s feeling any better.
Rating: No higher than PG (and probably not even that…)
Log:
In addition to being dateless, John was also sick and had therefore decided to skip all the Valentine’s Day shenanigans in favor of staying inside to watch TV and play with his pokemon. However, unbeknownst to him, Slimer (his prankster of a Gastly) had decided it would be downright hysterical to switch his master’s daytime cough medicine with the stronger, sleep-inducing nighttime stuff. How he managed to do this is another story entirely, and probably one which will never be told.

So by the time three o’clock rolled around, John was out like a light on the couch, wrapped up in what was most likely every blanket in he and Dave’s hotel room. And that’s how he remained for the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening. Casey, his Buneary, was asleep next to him because…hey, apparently it was naptime and she wasn’t going to complain about that! Before falling asleep herself though, she had taken John’s glasses off because he was just so silly and so tired that he had apparently forgotten to do so. And that was weird to her, because…~~daddy~~ John always takes his glasses off before naptime! It was just one of those facts of life!

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It was around 5 when Rose was finally free to visit him as she had planned. Checking to make sure she had both valentine gifts that needed to be delivered at the same time, she was out the door and down the hall, Dave's room in mind.

Soon, a soft knock was given to the door, and she patiently waited for a reply. After a few moments, she knocked again, this time a little louder.

John may have been completely comatose and unresponsive, but luckily Casey had no trouble hearing either of the knocks at the door. Ears twitching, she slid off the couch and scampered over to the door. Though she had no problem hearing, she did have a problem with reaching the door handle. Even jumping as high as she could, there was just no way she could open that door.

Looks like she was going to need backup on this one.

Pouting, she rushed back over to the couch and tapped the button on one of the pokéballs, causing Tripp the Pidgey to appear in a flash of light. One quick explanation later, Tripp was lifting the little Buneary up to the door handle, which she turned with her little paws, opening the door with a small click.

Certainly, this was a giant achievement for both Buneary- and Pidgey-kind.

Curious, that seemed a little awkward even for John Egbert. Opening the door, she glanced around for the boy, but was only met with the sight of his Pokemon. Stepping fully into the room and closing the door, she gives them both an affectionate pet.

"Hello there Casey, Tripp. Were you the ones to open the door?" And if so, where was their trainer? She isn't going to be the happiest friend in the world if she finds out he's too sick to answer the door, and has a certain cool kid already lined up in her head to take the blame.

Buneaaaaryyy!

She nuzzles Rose's hand, looking very happy, very happy indeed. After all, she loves getting pets! Especially the affectionate kind! And Rose is a very nice girl who gives very nice pets...oh but now she looked a little upset. Hmm...oh! Maybe she's here to see ~~dad~~ John. That must be it, because she and John are ~friends~!

She wiggles free from Tripp's grasp (something which the tiny bird seems very pleased about as he flies over and sits in the window) and hops over to the couch. She jumps onto the blanket-cocoon that is her master and pokes him in the face. Now is not the time for sleeping, John! Wakey wakey!

It's not very effective. Apparently he is just that tired.

Such a cute Pokemon, but now it's time to follow her to the location of ~~her father~~ John. Of course, seeing him bundled up like a caterpie in a cocoon brings a frown to her face. Reaching down, she presses the back of her hand to his forehead, frowning deeper at his temperature. Setting her bag down and removing Casey from his pile, she gives him a few gentle shakes.

"John, wake up please. We need to get you out of these blankets."

This is slightly more effective, but still pretty much ineffective in the grand scheme of waking John up. At least he shows a sign of life this time! He...frowns, makes a weird snuffling noise, and rolls over. Well, at least he didn't ask for 'just five more minutes.'

So frustrating.

"John, I insist you get up, lest I need to start using more unpleasant forms of waking you."

After a few more moments of shaking, she sighs and leaves to the kitchen. Searching the cupboards, a cup is retrieved and filled with cold water, and the girl returns to the side of the couch. Tipping the cup so it pours a small amount on his face, she waits for a reaction. The entire cup is next, John.

"Nnnnn..."

Where is that water coming from? Is it raining or something? He swats at the air, trying to shoo away the "raincloud." John will have none of this rainy nonsense, he is trying to sleep here.

Unamused, the cup is tilted to empty it's contents entirely and unmercifully upon his head. Setting the now empty glass down, she walks around to the blankets, tugging on the top layer.

"Your blankets are next, and I will not feel bad if you are consequentially knocked onto the floor because of it."

That did the trick. He sits up, spluttering indignantly and rubbing his eyes. ~~Raincloud~~ Rose: 1, John: 0!

"W-what!? I, huh?! Who?"

He is just so articulate, isn't he? Hey when did everything get all fuzzy? And wasn't there more light in the room a minute ago, who turned off the sun? And why is he all wet?

"Thank you. Here, let us get you unburied. You are warm enough on your own, you do not need the help of all these covers."

She most certainly was not giving him time to get a grasp on the situation, far more concerned with his fever. After he was out of the blankets she would explain things but for now he was being tugged on, her other hand pushing the blankets off of him.

And he most certainly does not have a grasp on the situation at all. None of this makes any sense, so this stranger (who sounds an awfully familiar!) really should have no problem with moving him however they please.

He squints. ~~How BLIND do you even have to be?~~ Vaguely Rose-shaped, sounds like Rose, therefore: this person must be Rose!

"R-Rose? What are you doing here? And where are my glasses?"

"I came to pay you a visit, knowing you would be here instead of enjoying Valentine's Day with the others." Once the offending comforters were removed, she searched around a bit. Where were his glasses?

"Knowing you were sick and that your care-taker was out with his date, I wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself. As I expected, you aren't, and are now running what feels like a terrible fever."

There they were! Within moments, his glasses were being slipped onto his face, the fuzzy figure should be clearing to reveal a concerned Rose. He was indeed right in his assumptions!

Oh wow, look at that! It is Rose! Well this was sure nice of her to come and vi-- hey wait a minute...

"What's that supposed to mean 'as I expected?' I was taking care of myself just fine! And I don't...feel any worse. You sure about that terrible fever thing?"

Now he's feeling his own forehead. This is stupid.

"John, you cannot feel your own fever." With a sigh, she took the glass into the kitchen, returning moments later with a bowl of cool water and a wash rag. "With your entire body being the same temperature, it is impossible to feel any difference between your hand and your forehead. Trust me, you are burning up."

Placing the bowl down, she takes a seat on the couch beside him. Her hands fish out the wash cloth and wring it out slightly, pressing the cool cloth to his forehead.

"And you are not taking care of yourself. Terrible fever, bundled up as you were on top of it. I do not see any water or juice to drink, nor do I see any medicine of use here."

He looks suddenly sheepish. Of course he knew that, duh! He was just being silly. It's kind of his thing. Haha!! Wait, where was she going? Okay that was a quick trip, oh wow that's just the nicest thing...

Wow that feels good...but he's still pretty indignant. He was doing just fine till he apparently fell asleep. Funny, he didn't really remember that.

"Hey, I took my medicine! I remembered that much at least. Though...I don't remember much after that. Hmm. What time is it anyway?"

"It is around five in the evening, perhaps five thirty now."

With that thought in mind, she wondered how long it would be before Dave returned. She really hadn't wanted to give him his valentine face to face, but looking at John now she wasn't sure she'd be able to leave before he got back.

"Here." Taking one of his hands, she had him hold the wash cloth to his forehead on his own, standing up. "Keep that there. I have something for you." And she is going to fetch the bag carrying the last two gifts she had to hand out.

"Really? Geez...how did that even...?"

Initially, he was caught off guard when she suddenly let go of the washcloth. He fumbled it awkwardly for a moment but he managed to keep it pressed up against his forehead with relative success.

"Um, okay."

He coughed a few times, though he tried to stifle them with little to no success.

Soon she produced the small bag of chocolates, placing it in his lap.

"Refrain from eating that until you are better, if you can help it. But happy Valentine's Day, John."

Sitting back down, she gently takes the cloth and soaks it again, wringing it out and replacing it against his forehead. Though she continues holding it rather than having him take it.

He actually looks pretty surprised when she hands him the chocolates. This was completely unexpected.

"Wow, thanks Rose. And don't worry, I won't. I can't really taste anything right now, so eating them now would be a total waste."

He smiles, but quickly has to turn away to cover his mouth as he has small coughing fit.

"Though now I feel bad because I didn't get you anything. I can't even give you a hug...actually you probably shouldn't be sitting this close."

He makes a move to take the washcloth away from her.

"It would suck if you got sick too."

She just takes the washcloth out of his reach.

"I assure you I will be fine. However, I am unsure if I can say the same for your well being. And don't fret over giving me anything, I was not expecting any gifts." Washcloth is back on his forehead, and she is ready to pull away again if need be. She just can't trust him to care for himself.

"Does Dave own any medicine for that cough?"

"I'll be fine, don't worry. Gosh, it's not like I'm dying or anything. It's just a cold, you worry too much."

Though the smile on his face says that he doesn't mind the attention and concern as much as he says he does.

"And yeah he does. I took some at three, just like I was supp--"

The smile slips from his face as a somewhat disturbing thought crosses his mind. He's connecting the dots here, and if he's right about what caused his sudden wave of sleepiness, a certain Gastly is in for it later.

"Hold on a second."

He gets to his feet and totters across the room to the bathroom, pulling the door open and picking up a small bottle on the counter and examining it closely. Well dang.

"I knew this stuff tasted funny! Dammit Slimer!"

Rose is leaning against the doorframe behind him, arms crossed and a very disapproving look on her face.

"It tasted different, and you took it anyway?"

That's all she really has to say on this matter. That, to her, speaks volumes for his instinct of self-preservation and his ability to take care of himself.

"Just a cold or not, it can easily become worse if not properly cared for."

There's that sheepish look again. Oops, way to look like an idiot John. Good job.

"Well I wasn't one hundred percent sure. I mean it didn't taste bad or anything just...different."

He puts a hand to his forehead, pushing his bangs off of his forehead and looking utterly perplexed.

"How did he even...he doesn't have any arms!"

This is going to baffle him for at least a week. Seriously. HOW?!

"Please sit back down. Contemplating such a perplexing thought while sick is much better done in the comfort of the couch." As if to drive the point home, she pointed back to the couch, her opposite hand on her hip.

"I am guessing that must have been some form of sleep aide, then."