Declaimer: I do not own BAMW or their characters I was obligated by my sister to do this/ One shot? Humanoid because it's weird writing for animals
The Amazon is a fairly calm place. Quiet at times, if you stood still enough. Peaceful enough if you ignored the wild animals lurking every corner. Nice even.
Everything except when it started to rain, the beginning of what was to be a thunder storm. Then the Amazon lost its beauty and it soon transformed into a monster that threatened to rip everything apart with its water and lightning, it's drowning. Animals in the Amazon knew by instinct that they should take cover while this ferocity passed. Should wait for thing to return to normal, no matter how long it would take.
Of course Brandy wasn't one to fit the wild life and she never knew a sense of intuition even it hit her in the face. Ironically in this occasion it almost did. But the quandary in all this was that she was too self absorb to notice what her actions were leading. In this case she only went to face her consequence when she woke early in the morning. By sneezing and coughing and nothing more than a cold. Once might think that it was her who was feeling under the weather when in fact it was her roommate. Yet above everything that has taken place it was her who was irritated that Whiskers was sick when it was her who force him that night as the sky poured their tears to the trees to look for her clothes clinging to a small wire to dry before they got wet.
Worst part was that it seemed this thunder storm didn't want to leave, clinging to the window of the small home atop of the tree, wanting to find out what happened to poor Whiskers. And how would Brandy look for someone to take care of Whiskers in these conditions?
"Whiskers," Brandy inhaled, trying to control her anger, "could you, like, just stop?"
"What?" asked Whiskers sniffling down in his bunk bed.
"Coughing and sneezing. It's annoying."
"Sorry," came Whiskers quiet response.
"Whatever."
In the next second Whisper sneezed three times. Brandy's patience thinned. She breathed in but when her voice came out it sounded like a shriek. "Whiskers!"
"I'm sorry Brandy but I can't stop, I'm sick."
Brandy rubbed a hand through her face. As if there raining wasn't bad enough but it also prevented any getaway from him. She had no choice but to lay around and hear him moan and sigh and groan and cough and-
"Want soup?" she offered. Well, she had no choice but to help him feel better for her own sake. Maybe make things more comfortable for her.
"What?"
Brandy exhale already heading for the small kitchen. There were little ingredients she could work with but she could make the best of it. Hasn't she always? As she worked she explained, seeing Whiskers confusion rise. She wasn't a form use to not be so self absorb. "When you're sick soups makes everyone feel better."
"Oh," was all he said.
When everything was done Brandy was tired. Her legs felt heavy and her knees felt crack, but she couldn't rest just yet. She walked slowly as to not spill her hard work but when she got there Whiskers was sleeping. And shivering. And if not anything he looked as if he was having a bad dream.
Brandy woke Whiskers roughly.
He startled. Blinked. Sighed. And began to shiver again.
"It time to eat." She said.
"Sorry Brandy but I actually don't have an appetite right now."
"What!" she exclaimed, mentally seeing all her hard work doing down the drain. Automatically she freed one of her hands and reached out to his forehead. It almost sizzled and she apprehensively pulled back. "Oh, my God Whiskers. You have a fever."
"I want to rest now Brandy," he mumbled turning the other way and giving her his back.
All she thought as she paced through the kitchen gathering small things and forgetting her hard labor was: It's all my fault.
Brandy returned with a cold wet cloth and soundlessly as to not interrupt she located it in his forehead. She wasn't entirely sure if it was correctly secure since there wasn't a clear view, so she grabbed a chair nearby and dragged it until she was resting beside the bunk bed. When she sighed Brandy couldn't help think that it was a guilty exhale. Well, most or all of what had happened was her fault and it was most logical for her to feel this way. Thought that didn't mean it was a good feeling.
A minute flew by like falling tocks and then there was his reacting like the downcast clouds about to rest in the horizon. "Brandy can you please get this wet thing out of me it's making me colder."
Brandy was immediately at her feet, retrieving the cloth as almost as soon as she had put it there. She sighed again, crossing her arms and looking down at Whiskers. "You know? Maybe if you try the hot, steaming soup maybe you would feel a lot better and cozy."
Whiskers side glanced her before he turned around again. "No thanks, Brandy. But I just feel like sleeping now."
He left her with her mouth hanging up and with the promise of words never spoken to swim in the force gravity. But there wasn't time for second chances either, almost immediately he fell into slumber.
It's all your fault…
Brandy's arms and hands were long ago getting tired as she rested her weary head as a rib cage holding a head. She almost had enough. Then he started shivering again. Something inside her started to move, you see, and maybe if you used a magnifying glass or an x-ray machine you would see a tropical depression forming in her interior. When she held her breath there were strong winds. When she gulped there were tall waves. When there was this tiny sting of humiliation burning in her eyes there was a town diving under water.
He was undisturbed by this, unconscious that maybe his body was burning up. He was peaceful. She didn't was to corrupt that. But he was still shaking.
Maybe the constellations aligning together was a much bigger distraction and maybe she was just as unaware as she climbed to the bunk beside him but when she came to she was surprise to find herself there.
The first thing that came to her was the heat radiating from him, then guilt for she was the cause of all of it. She bit her lip. There were a thousand earthquakes. And still she found herself stupidly finding herself reaching with the back of her hand his forehead. She thought maybe the covers were causing all this heat.
Whiskers eyes started to flutter. "Brandy?"
Her words were long lost in the thunderstorm inside her throat. She was mute and yet she found herself stuttering with words. "I'm sorry."
She was momentary shocked to find his smile above all options. "It's okay, Brandy."
She cursed herself for being continually surprise and for letting it paint pictures in her facade. She didn't know why she was suddenly quiet. "It's not. You're sick… because of me."
"No…" he said slowly letting the words settle on her ears like little men landing with parachutes. "It's my fault. I could have not just picked your clothes. But you're my friend. And that's what friends do. They risk themselves even if it means getting sick."
"You're stupid, you know?" she covered unsuccessfully her baffled encounter. She had never, not even in Florida had a friend willing to get sick and reencountering other occasion beaten and scratched and bloody for her. In fact he's the first one.
"I get that a lot." He said, not caring as he closed his eyes. "But I don't care either, it means I'm doing something right."
Brandy bit her lip as she stole a kiss on his cheek. "Yeah, I know."
After that the thunder storm seemed to dissipate and all was somehow clear. Yet, you see next morning Brandy woke to a runny nose but when Whiskers approached she waved it away claiming that then it wouldn't mean anything and that she had done something wrong.
But she never seemed to hear when he said: "You never seem to."
