Sick

Summary/Theme: You know it's love when you're willing to hold their hair up while they vomit.

A/N: I didn't intend to post again so soon but it was my 5 year anniversary yesterday, so here's a drabble in honor of the occasion. Enjoy!

As always, thank you to the wonderful people who left honest opinions on my work and encouraged me to keep on indulging in my guilty pleasure:

Eribell, Insane Fangirl 4, belle, sallythedestroyerofworlds23, chOOnyOung17, Alyssa, curio cherry, teshichan, Beijing Girl

Timeline: Post-Bleach

Warnings: Drabble- suitable for all audiences, rated K.

Standard Disclaimer: Bleach is solely the property of Kubo Tite, and I am merely borrowing his playground.


Rukia is dry heaving into the toilet. This is the second time today and Ichigo rubs her back in sympathy as he holds her dark hair up and out of the way. When she makes no move to lever herself up from her penitent position in front of the porcelain throne, he unfolds his legs from under him and grabs a washrag.

Ichigo sticks the washrag under the sink and waits for it to become saturated with cold water. Wringing out the excess, he folds it into a square and hands it to Rukia, who gives him a grateful look.

They sit across from each other on the cold bathroom tiles. Water drips in the sink, and somewhere in the house a clock is ticking away the seconds in an inexorable beat. The sounds of passing cars and birdsong drift in from the outside world as if from a great distance.

Ichigo observes her carefully. Rukia's face looks ashen, sweaty, and clammy. There are dark purplish circles under her eyes, and her cheeks are hollowed out under sharp cheekbones. She looks much too thin. The sympathy quickly melts into guilt.

"Feeling better?" he asks gruffly.

She's patting her cheek with the cloth as she opens one eye. The look she throws him is one of abject misery tinged with accusation.

Slowly, she shakes her head. "I've never felt so sick in my whole entire life."

It's true, Rukia doesn't get sick, at least not like this. He's seen her choked, stabbed, concussed, poisoned, and run through with a sword, but he's never seen her vomit. Renji used to call her 'steel-stomach Kuchiki'. She's never even gotten the flu or food poisoning. This near constant emesis must be a wretched new experience for her.

He rubs her back in soothing circles. "It's ok. It's just vomiting. It will be over before you know it."

"But so much...is this normal?" she asks looking up at him with no small amount of worry.

"Well, in your case it seems pretty severe, but then again your blood hCG level is extremely high..."

Her eyes narrow at him in annoyance. "And in plain-speak that means?"

He gives her a sly smile. "Twins do run in our family, Rukia. There's a chance-"

If at all possible, her face pales even further and takes on a greenish hue. Her sharp elbow darts out and nails him in the stomach. "Wow. Stop talking."

Still smiling warmly, Ichigo rubs his sore stomach. In the most sickeningly sweet voice he can muster (he learned from a master after all), he says, "Love you too...honey."

Her only response is more dry heaving in the toilet.


Omake: (a.k.a. Sick- Take two)

"Hmm," Isshin ponders as he holds his chin thoughtfully between two fingers.

He, Ichigo, and Rukia squint at the grainy black-and-white image on the sonogram monitor.

Ichigo rubs his face tiredly. "Don't 'hmm' us old man, just tell us if it's one or two." There is an edge of anxiety in his voice.

"Congratulations!" Isshin smiles widely, flipping two thumbs up to Ichigo and Rukia. "I'm going to be a granddad..."

"Shouldn't you be congratulating us?" Rukia wonders absently, still staring at the monitor.

"To twin grand babies!" Isshin finishes dramatically.

"Oh shit!" Ichigo shouts, eyes wide. He looks over at Rukia, who shares this sentiment. She looks like she's going to pass out. Or throw up again.

"Just kidding! There's only one." He claps Ichigo on the shoulder. "My boy! You have yet to achieve the virility of your old man! You'll have to try harder."

Ichigo turns to Rukia, cracking his knuckles menacingly. "You want me to hit him? Or do you want to do the honors?"

"Why don't you hold him down..." Rukia says darkly, rolling her shoulders.