Even the Flu
By xxkoffeexx
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.
Summary: In which Whitney realizes there are some things MooMoo milk cannot cure. Slight resistanceshipping.
.
The first week she had a cold, Whitney ignored it and went along with her life.
Coughing and blowing her nose every five minutes of the day was a little annoying (because her cute nose became an unattractive shade of red and her eyes watered like tears), but she didn't mind. It would take more than a mere cold to tear her away from her Gym duties, especially now when the number of challengers was at its yearly peak and she was battling at least three times a day.
Besides, the virus wouldn't last long. Longer. Whitney was and always had been a healthy girl. Growing up on MooMoo milk every single day as a youngster did wonders for her immune system.
"Maybe you should take some medicine," one of the Gym trainers, Victoria, suggested worriedly after Whitney recovered from hacking up a lung, or so it sounded.
The Leader waved an airy hand, which was ruined by a violent sneeze.
"Don't worry. I'll just drink some milk."
She would be well by tomorrow.
.
The second week rolled by and her cold virus not only stayed, but it seemed to have gotten worse.
"Eh? Go home?" Whitney turned to give her Gym trainers, all of them good friends, an incredulous smile. The smile was obscured by the white cloth mask she was forced to put on so she couldn't spread the virus, but they could see her magenta eyes crinkle. "Don't be silly! I'm perfectly fine. I just cough. A lot. And my nose is a little stuffy, but isn't everyone's?"
"No," Victoria said flatly. "And you've been coughing for two weeks straight. That's a bad sign."
The pink-haired girl laughed, but it sounded more like a gasping old hag. "It's a good sign. It means the cold is getting worse before it gets better."
There was a sigh. "Whitney, please—"
"Oh, it's a challenger! Duty calls."
The challenger, a young boy from Cherrygrove, watched perturbed as the Gym Leader coughed and choked for five minutes before starting the match.
That night, Whitney drank an extra bottle of milk before sleeping.
.
On the dawn of the third week, Whitney collapsed.
She had been in the middle of a battle when she swayed on her feet and pitched forward. Luckily, the nearby judge caught her before she could fall flat on her face, and after a brief assessment, declared that the Leader (unlike her Pokémon) was unable to continue battling.
The Gym trainers wasted no time taking Whitney home, ignoring her mumbling protests as she tried to go back. "I'm a Gym Leader," she said commandingly to a random streetlamp. "It is my duty and honor to uphold justice in all of Johto! Take me back. Obey me or suffer my… my… ow. My foot."
"Sorry," Victoria said without sounding sorry at all. "You're not doing anything but going to bed and sleep."
"How dare you speak that way to me! I… I challenge you to a battle."
"You do that when you're not drooling on me."
"Eh. Good plan."
And Whitney knocked out.
.
When she woke up, she saw a dark pinkish world before her eyes.
It would have been terrifying because Whitney didn't think she was sick enough to become blind, but then she realized it was just her Clefairy blanket pulled over her face. She weakly pushed it off, grateful for the fresher air and the dim light from her bedroom window. Her body felt heavy and weak and hot, yet unbearably cold at the same time.
It occurred to her that she'd had the most strangely pleasant dream ever, but she couldn't remember what it was.
As she blinked away the fog in her brain, she grew aware of somebody sitting beside her bed, and slowly turned her head to see purple hair.
"…Bugsy?" Her throat was like a desert. She wished desperately for a sip of water.
He was reading a book, but he looked up when she moved and gave her a smile. "Hey. How do you feel?" As he spoke, he reached for the nightstand and handed her a glass of water. Whitney eagerly accepted it, immensely relieved even though he had to help her sit up and hold the cup as she drank.
"Horrible," she answered pitifully, laying back down as he placed the cup on the table. "How long have I been sleeping?"
"A few days." He gave her a smile that was amused and sympathetic. "Falkner and I've been getting a lot of rematches lately. The trainers don't know who else to battle."
Whitney sighed but it turned into a painful cough. He gave her some water, which she gulped down, and then closed her eyes. "Sorry. I'm not good company right now." That much was obvious. If she was better, she would have showed him the new Hoppip doll she won in a drawing last month.
"It's okay. I brought my research book."
Her eyes opened and she scowled. "Why are you here exactly?"
The Bug specialist grinned over his book. "Do I need a reason to visit a sick friend?" She merely snorted weakly.
"You're just here to escape from those rematches."
"And to make sure you take your medicine," he said lightly, grabbing the water and a couple pills. She tried to whine childishly, but he gave her a pointed look. "Your trainers are busy managing the Gym right now. You have to concentrate on getting better."
Whitney grumbled but took the medicine. Then she closed her eyes again. "…I hate getting sick."
"Then you should take better care of yourself," he said without preamble, picking up his book again. "It's flu season again and even Gym Leaders get sick. You can't just drink milk and expect to recover the next day." When there was no usual protest or retort, he glanced up and saw the pink-haired girl fast asleep.
With a smile, he silently resumed reading.
.
Rumors spread swiftly across Johto about the bed-ridden Goldenrod Gym Leader.
The next time Whitney opened her eyes it was late afternoon and a familiar brunette was smiling down at her.
"Hello Whitney. How are you feeling?"
The pink-haired girl swallowed painfully and managed to croak, "Better. Did Bugsy go back?"
Jasmine nodded, replacing the wet towel on Whitney's forehead with a fresh one. "He left yesterday. He said you had a hard time moving."
Whitney shut her eyes with a hoarse sigh. "Why am I so useless? Seriously?" Her tone was glum and there was a slight frown creasing her brow.
"You're not useless," the quiet girl corrected firmly. "Just a little stubborn when it comes to your health. You should take care of yourself, Whitney. Everyone's worried about you. Even Claire."
The sick patient tried to pout. "I never get sick." Then she blinked. "Claire? Really?"
"Yes. But… it might be because of the rumors."
Whitney looked even more interested in this, much to her friend's outward dismay. "What rumors?" When there was a pause, she pressed on with shining eyes that had nothing to do with her fever, "Are there rumors about… me?"
Jasmine seemed reluctant to say anything, but after much begging and cajoling, she finally relented.
"Well, some trainers think you might have been kidnapped," she began calmly, as if reading off a list. "Ever since the Team Rocket radio incident, people have viewed Goldenrod as the center of criminal activity. Some trainers who last battled you said that you were… er, mentally ill and tyrannical towards your Gym trainers. And then…" Here Jasmine seemed uncomfortable. "There are people who think you've run away from the Gym to elope with someone."
Whitney burst into laughter and ended up choking until her eyes watered. "That's rich! I don't even have a boyfriend." Then she frowned in displeasure. "Why is it so hard for Leaders to have a romantic relationship?"
Jasmine blushed. "Some get married."
"Well, anyways, we're too young to marry. Any other rumors?"
"Um…" The brunette's blush grew stronger. "Apparently Claire heard that you eloped with Lance and… had to be restrained before she tried to hunt you down. B-but that's not really a rumor…"
At this Whitney really choked.
"Lance?" She spluttered as Jasmine hurriedly gave her some water. "Why? Oh my gosh. Please tell me Claire's not coming over here. I don't wanna die!"
"I-It's okay. I think Lance calmed her down…"
After a moment, Whitney settled down with a relieved sigh. "Okay, that's enough rumors. Gosh, it feels like I really have messed up the balance of Johto!" Being sick was not only physically tiring but mentally as well. Her head ached just from thinking of all the disturbances her absence from the Gym caused.
Then she blinked in realization. "Oh no. How gross. I haven't showered in forever." Her clear disgust made Jasmine chuckle softly.
"That's what I'm here for. Come on, I'll help you up."
Whitney sighed gratefully. "Thank goodness you came. It would have been awkward if Bugsy had to help out instead."
Jasmine seemed to pause at this. "Only Bugsy?" she asked hesitantly. The pink-haired girl clumsily freed her legs from the tangle of pink blankets and cute dolls, grumbling in the process.
"Yeah. He's the only guy that visited me. Why?"
"…No. It's nothing."
If Whitney hadn't chosen that moment to stumble ungracefully over a pillow, she would have seen the strange expression on her friend's face and demanded to know what was wrong.
As it was, she demanded instead, "Where's my MooMoo milk?"
.
In the middle of the night Whitney woke up abruptly from a dream.
It was the same strange dream from before, but this time she could recall some fleeting images gradually slipping from the inner recesses of her mind. Something about Miltank and a castle wedding and… a handsome professor? She couldn't visualize his face but somehow Whitney knew he was gorgeous. A drop-dead gorgeous professor. Perhaps he was Professor Oak when he was a young lad?
Then she remembered why she woke up in the first place and turned her head groggily, trying to see what had made the shuffling noise. There was a shadow moving quietly in her room, and despite her exhaustion, a dull prickle of alarm went off in her brain.
"…Jasmine?"
The shadow paused, before moving towards her bed.
A human hand, cool and gentle against her warm skin, brushed her forehead. "Go back to sleep." It wasn't Jasmine because the voice was obviously male, but she couldn't recognize it for all she tried. The hand brushed once more, making Whitney's eyes flutter shut.
She decided to think about it in the morning. For now, she could trust this voice.
Distantly wondering where the towel had gone, Whitney drifted to sleep.
.
She woke up the next morning feeling a lot better than she had in weeks.
"Okay," she told herself as she struggled to sit up in bed. "Let's do this." Whitney was an active girl, despite all her prettiness, and being stuck in bed sleeping was slowly driving her insane. With considerably more effort than she'd expected, the pink-haired girl got up from her bed and walked slowly to the window. With a shaky hand, she pulled aside the pink curtains and realized why she felt drowsier than usual.
It was raining.
Of course it would choose to rain the day she managed to stand on her feet without collapsing. That was how the weather worked for most people. "Maybe that's why nobody's nursing me today," she mused aloud while heading towards the bedroom door, eager to go about her daily activities.
It seemed the door had other ideas, because it opened before she could touch it. She looked up and saw Morty standing there. He was blocking her way to freedom and the bathroom.
He was also dripping wet.
"Hey Whitney. You're up."
"How did you get in?" she blurted in greeting, already moving towards the towel cabinet. Whitney must have been incredibly slow, slower than the lazy Miltank on her uncle's farm, because he was already there, reaching for a towel over her shoulder. Normally she would have jumped aside, but there was no jumping for weak Whitney yet, so she just turned to face him.
"Your friend," he answered simply, carefully drying himself with her pink towel. "She gave me the key."
Whitney was feeling a little slow in the thinking area, and she took a long moment to realize what friend he was talking about. "Oh, Victoria. Did she arrange a schedule to babysit me or something?" She scowled a little at the thought because now Bugsy and Jasmine's presence made a lot more sense.
Morty took off his headband to dry his hair, and he said, "It was more like everybody arranged it together."
"You know," she began in a worldly tone, sitting on her bed and hugging a plush Jigglypuff doll. "You didn't have to come today. I feel a lot better. And besides, you had to walk through the rain. What if you caught a cold? Gym Leaders can get sick too."
A quick smile flitted across his face. "You would know, wouldn't you?"
"Bah." Whitney shifted uncomfortably, hoping he didn't notice that she noticed she was wearing no bra underneath her t-shirt. That would be terribly awkward. "So… what are you going to do now?"
He nodded out the door, rolling up the wet towel neatly. "I bought some food from the mart if you're hungry."
She tossed aside the doll and sprang from the bed, making a beeline for the kitchen. "Morty, you're amazing."
He smiled again.
It turned out he bought a lot of Whitney's favorite foods (including a bottle of MooMoo milk). She had a suspicion that Victoria and Jasmine had a hand in this, but she was too hungry to care. As she dug through the items eagerly, Morty dropped the towel in her laundry room and then proceeded to pull out plates and utensils from her small kitchen. Whitney watched him go straight to her highest cupboard and take out the cereal as if he knew it was there. It was almost eerily familiar, the way he moved about her kitchen, and she slowly put down her bottle of milk on the kitchen counter.
"Wait. Have you… been in my kitchen before?"
He paused as he opened her refrigerator. "Yes. You don't remember?"
Whitney blinked a few times, and then blurted, "You were here last night." When he nodded, she blushed slightly. "Why? Where did you sleep?"
"At the Center. I had some business in Goldenrod, and I decided to check up on you."
She sighed depressingly at her milk. "So you're busy." At his questioning silence, she plunked down at the kitchen table and didn't look at him. "I'm such a horrible Leader. I didn't listen to my friends, I got sick, and I caused trouble for everyone in Johto. I made you go grocery shopping for me. I suck."
He seemed amused. "It's not so bad."
"Yes it is! Bugsy and Jasmine had to be my nurse even though they've got their own Gyms to worry about, and here you are sorting my fridge."
"Nobody's perfect Whitney."
"Nobody tries to ignore a stupid virus."
He finished putting away the grocery and turned to look at her in that steady way of his. "Nobody's perfect," he repeated. "And feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to fix anything."
Whitney was silent for a moment. Then she nodded. "You're absolutely right. Sorry for being so annoying."
Morty gave her a faint smile. "Just get better, Whitney. We're all waiting for you."
She felt her face turn warm, suddenly remembering the handsome professor in her dream, and told herself it was the residue fever acting up again. She really had to lay off on the MooMoo milk if she was starting to have weird dreams about Morty as a drop-dead gorgeous professor.
Whitney cleared her throat as he washed the dishes.
"Hey Morty. Thanks."
He made an absent sound. She stood up, feeling a little guilty for having another person, and a guy at that, doing the dishwashing in her own kitchen. "Here, let me help." Before she could so much as touch a soapy dish he quickly stopped her, wrapping a wet hand around her wrist. Her chest thudded again and she panicked slightly, wondering if her fever was returning.
"I'm fine, Whitney. You should probably wash up." He gave her a sidelong glance that was not at her messy hair, but at her clothes, and then pointedly turned away.
It took a moment for her to realize that she was still bra-less and holy cow he knew but was too polite to tell her directly. She blushed all sorts of red and mumbled something before hurrying to her bedroom, trying not to think about drop-dead gorgeous blond professors.
That was it. No more drinking milk before going to sleep.
.
He had to go back to Ecruteak in the evening, and Whitney walked him to the door.
"Thanks for all the food," she said again, watching him adjust his scarf. "I'll make sure to eat them all."
"Don't rush," he replied, smiling slightly.
Whitney caught sight of him placing the extra key on her couch before she joked cheerfully, "It's too bad you didn't come earlier when I was really sick. You could have nursed me back to health just like Bugsy and Jasmine did."
There was a very odd flicker in his violet eyes, but it was gone before she could observe it and he said mildly, "I don't think I missed out."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what it means."
She huffed like a child and he reached out to ruffle her hair lightly. When she merely stuck out her tongue, he chuckled and stepped towards the door. "Get back to the Gym soon, Whitney."
"Yeah, yeah." Whitney grinned brightly at him. "But don't expect to get that many new challengers."
He smiled. "I won't."
And he left.
.
"Squirtle is unable to battle. The victory goes to Whitney!"
Victoria watched as the pink-haired Gym Leader trounced yet another challenger. With a wry smile, she approached the younger woman and said, "Aren't you being a little too ruthless? That's the sixth trainer you've defeated this week."
"Hah! I'm only getting warmed up." Whitney stretched her limbs, still a little sore from being in bed so long. "Besides, I need to make up for all those battles I missed."
"Morty might not be too happy."
"I'm giving him a break," she replied airily. "And I told him not to expect any new challengers." Then she remembered something and gave Victoria an accusing look. "Speaking of which. Since when have you two been chummy enough to give Morty my key in the middle of the night?"
The older woman seemed confused. "He came at night?"
"Don't pull that with me. He was checking up on me and I woke up." Whitney frowned at her. "I'm surprised you actually gave it to him so late at night."
Victoria shook her head, smiling. "I never saw him at night, Whitney."
"But—how did he come in?"
"I gave him the key way before that." Victoria lifted her eyebrow curiously. "Didn't you know? Morty was the one that took care of you the first two days you were sick. Bugsy volunteered to come after him." At Whitney's stunned stare she laughed and walked away. "He must have kept the extra key to visit you later. How sweet."
It took Whitney five seconds before she grabbed her PokéGear.
.
In Ecruteak City on the eternal foliage of Bellchime Path, a certain Gym Leader was not surprised when he received a call and Whitney immediately began blasting away into his ear.
"—and I hope you get sick so I can sneak into your room and watch you sleep and make a copy of your house key, how would you like that huh?"
He was glad she was feeling better.
END
.
A/N: More resistanceship. I love these two.
Victoria is one of the Beauty trainers in the Goldenrod Gym. I just randomly chose her.
Hope you enjoyed reading! (Beware of the flu.)