He Took The Time
Chapter 9 Time
The forest rang with the sounds of harsh, barking coughs. One lone hero was on watch. He propped himself up against a tree trunk with a shaky hand until the coughing attack subsided. The Old Man had been feeling under the weather for a few days. He thought he'd hid his symptoms well until he felt the eyes of a wolf drilling into his back while he tried to catch his breath.
"I'm fine, Pup," He spoke around his sore throat with a hoarse voice.
The wolf just cocked his head, huffing out a sound of disbelief. The shapeshifter turned and ran off back towards camp. He'd better be going back to camp to sleep and not rally reinforcements. He didn't need help. He could do his duty and finish his watch. He was fine.
"You're sick," The Captain spoke without any preamble.
"I'm fine," He brushed off the concern, continuing walking the perimeter.
"No, you're not."
"I need to finish my watch," He dismissed the other hero.
"You need rest," The Captain laid a hand on his shoulder, "The others can take up the slack."
"I can do my job!" He shrugged out of his touch, leaving him behind in a huff. He needed to finish his watch. He didn't need the younger heroes coddling him. He was fine. Sweat began dripping down his face as his body tried to fight the disease trying to consume him. His steps wavered as his vision began to waver. He stumbled over a tree root and fell to the forest floor. Coughs ripped through his aching throat and pounding head as he hacked into the dirt. He let his anger flow through his veins to give enough strength to pull himself back up to his feet.
He panted into the bark of the tree that was the only thing keeping him upright. He didn't have time to be sick. He needed to be strong for the others. He kicked the tree with an angry growl. He was fine.
"You are like me," The pink-haired hero looked at him with wonder.
"I'm fine," He mumbled. How long the other was standing watching his tantrum he didn't know.
"Sure you are," The other smirked sarcastically.
"Go back to camp," The Old Man snapped. He didn't need an audience.
"It's okay to be upset," The younger hero called over his shoulder, "But you don't need to be alone either."
Once alone, he let his head thump against the abused tree in defeat. There was a conspiracy against him. It felt like something Malon would get a kick out of, but she wasn't here. He wished he could summon her to his side as easily as his fellow heroes seemed to be summoned. He watched through fever bright eyes as another one of his companions made their way to him. He stopped just out of reach, his white cape billowing softly behind him.
"What does Malon do when you're sick?"
"She ain't so nosy and leaves me in peace," He lied harshly. He missed his wife. She was so easy to just be himself with. He didn't always have to be in charge; he didn't always have to be strong.
"We could write her," The younger hero offered softly with an understanding smile.
He was so tired. His brain felt sluggish but he still knew she would not be safe in these woods. He was in no condition to protect her. He wanted nothing more than to lay his weary head against her and have her make the decisions until he didn't feel like he was being slowly burned alive. His legs refused to hold up his weight for another second. He slid down the rough bark and sat leaning against the tree.
"You said that you are there for the one you love, like a team," He knelt in front of the ailing warrior with a concerned look, "We'll we're your team. Let us help you."
He shook his head weakly, against the tree trunk. He needed to be strong for his team.
"We are here for you. When you're ready," The sick hero watched him walk back to camp.
He was being a pain. His friends didn't deserve his harsh words or childish behavior. They were just trying to help. They needed everybody in top shape in order to defeat the evil they were fighting. He was being the weak link that would shatter the whole chain.
"I guess I've been a little hard to deal with lately," He spoke, softly, to himself.
"Yes, you have," He whipped his head around to see yet another hero materialize. Two in fact, one on each side, unless he was more ill then he'd thought and was now seeing double.
"You need to let us help you," The forger said fiercely, "Just like you've helped us."
"I'm fine," He croaked out, before falling prey to yet another coughing fit.
Their youngest warrior spoke up on his other side, "We don't think any less of you just cause you're sick."
"I'm fine," He tried one last time to convince himself that he wasn't sick.
"You can make it up to us by coming back to camp," The youngest hero spoke with a triumphant smile.
The two youngest heroes stood strong against the Old Man. He dropped his head against his chest in defeat. He clearly was not well, but he had a team that would help him until he was no longer sick. It seemed even longer than that as the rest of the group appeared out of the trees. He was surrounded by concerned heroes. It didn't matter if he was sick or well. It didn't matter if he was sad, angry, lonely, or happy. It didn't even matter if his pain was physical or mental. He had eight fellow heroes who cared about him.
"I guess I have been feeling poorly lately," He finally admitted.
Pup held out a hand and helped him stand up with a concerned look.
"You should have come to me before it got this bad," The Captain chastised while he laid a cool hand against his overheated skin to check the fever level.
"About time he admits it," The pink-haired hero scoffed.
"He just wanted to protect us," The Hero of Hyrule spoke softly in wonder, almost to himself. This caused all the heroes to pause and look at their sick companion. He was their leader, confidant, friend, and sometimes even their father. He took the time to care for each of them in their time of need. Yet he refused to ask for help because he was trying to be strong for all their sakes. Each hero vowed to be better. To be there for the Old Man just as he was there for them.
"What would your wife think about how sick you've let yourself become," The white caped hero tutted in disapproval as he helped hold up some of the ill hero's weight as he got checked out before they moved the sick man back to camp.
"We should have seen it sooner," The archer watched as it was revealed how sick he really was.
The forger shook his head, "It wouldn't have mattered because he still wouldn't have admitted it."
"Yeah, he's stubborn," The youngest hero said with a hint of awe.
The Old Man submitted himself to their care, just as he'd cared for each of them at one time or another. The Old Man allowed their words and ministration to wash over him. He cared deeply for each of these heroes who shared his name.