The young troll let out a hideous series of coughs and hacks into his hands. He felt something warm and sticky cling to his skin and, when he lifted his head to peer down at them, Karkat saw a pile of red tinted mucus sitting in his palms. He let out an 'eugh!' before he looked around wildly for a tissue or something that would suffice as a substitute. However, he spotted nothing.

Letting out a groan, the troll thought about calling to his juggalo 'caretaker.' The title wasn't quite given any justice, seeing as all the dimwit would do is shuffle about breaking things and drool on himself. Karkat snorted, appalled at how miserably his moirail was failing at such a simple task. But, then again, he was also touched. The others hadn't come to his aid when he explained that he was feeling too gross to partake in roleplay that day or their other activities, but when Gamzee caught wind of the news he insisted he come right over. Karkat said it was fine, but Gamzee had been persistent.

Convincing himself that a young troll only sweeps old could do the task of fetching a tissue, Karkat sighed and caved in. Clearing his throat, he called out in his scratchy, stuffed up voice; "Gamzee!"

There was a clatter from downstairs as a result. Karkat's eye twitched. That was probably a pan, which meant Gamzee was doing something in the kitchen, which foreshadowed disaster. Karkat let out a low groan, suddenly fearful of what his kitchen probably looked like. Food everywhere? Hoofbeast milk on the floor? Gog forbid that there was even an ounce of sopor in that room.

Footsteps sounded up the staircase and grew louder as they neared the room. Eventually, the doorway was filled and Karkat's eyes widened. Gamzee stood there in a frilly apron and oven mitts, soup resting calmly in a bowl in his hands. He gave Karkat that relaxed smile of his, indigo eyes half-lidded. He came over to the bed, craning his neck down to be level with Karkat's line of vision. The mutant-blood stared at him for a moment, growing a bit flustered.

"Don't look at me like that, you idiot," he grumbled bitterly, darting his eyes away. Gamzee's body rattled a bit from chuckling.

Placing the bowl down on the side-table beside the couch, Gamzee settled down on the edge beside Karkat. In his low-tone, husky drawl, he purred out; "You dinged my dong, bro?"

Karkat was about to comment on the rather unique paraphrasing, but instead of blurting out a 'What the fuck?' he heaved a sigh and simply held out his soiled hands. Gamzee stared down at them for a minute before he whistled.

"Looks like cherry sopor," he chided before he took hold of the troll's wrists. "I got'cha, man."

And with that, the juggalo wiped the goop off of Karkat's hands and onto his apron. Karkat made a face as he watched, nose crinkling while his lips curled back into an unattractive look of disgust.

"Gamzee!" he shrieked. "That's disgusting!"

Gamzee simply shrugged and let Karkat's wrists go before he plucked the bowl of soup up off the table. He set it in his lap and scooped up some of the liquid into the spoon. Looking to his moirail, Gamzee chirped; "Now open on up for the train."

Karkat stared. "…You're shitting me. Aw hell no! I'm not doing that fucking lame-ass train shit! What do you take me for? A grub?!"

The juggalo simply waited, smiling patiently. Karkat glowered, gripping onto his blanket. He threw his head back and groaned. Eventually, he caved in. He parted his lips, to which Gamzee slipped the spoon into his mouth while make train sound effects. (And by train sound effects, he murmured a: 'Choo choo, motherfucker' at each bite.)
When the bowl was near empty, Gamzee set it aside and he plopped the back of his hand on Karkat's forehead.

The troll's cheeks flushed a rosy red and he swatted at him. "Stop that! I'm fine!"

The juggalo hummed and smiled. "Weeeeell… Alrighty, Kar. I'll let'cha go with that one. But, I
think it's gonna take a miracle t'make this go away."

Karkat heaved an exasperated sigh. "You and your fucking miracles. It's not like I'm dying. It's just a cold."

Gamzee pressed a finger to his lips. Then, he smiled and held open his arms. The mutant-blooded troll stared for a minute before he grumbled to himself. But, nonetheless, he scooted into his moirail's arms. Gamzee wrapped his limbs protectively around Karkat's smaller frame, resting his chin on top of his mop of black hair. It was a matter of seconds before Karkat melted in the high-blood's arms, head resting against his shoulder and face buried into the crook of his neck and collar bone. Gamzee's warmth seemed to make Karkat's aches fade away and the merciless headache he had been dealing with simmer to only a dull hum. His grey lips twitched up and he breathed a relieved sigh.

"Hey, bozo?" he murmured.

Gamzee hummed as a reply, hand rubbing Karkat's back.

"Thanks," he breathed. And he meant it. "I… I appreciate it."

"Anything for my little motherfucker."