A.N; I'M BACK! I got hit with a lot of self-doubt and have been working on this chapter on-and-off for this last month and a half. I'm still not the happiest with it, but I want it out of the way so I can move on to greener pastures.

It's a shorter chapter because of those issues I had, so sorry for taking so long to update it, I guess. Also thanks for the faves and follow! I appreciate it a lot.

Muriel was the sole occupant of the room, laying on the single bed at the corner of the room. She was asleep for now, it seemed, her chest rising and falling softly as she muttered in her sleep.

But that wasn't what so broke Courage's heart. It was all the machines she was hooked up to that did. He'd never seen half of them before in his life, but he had a terrible, terrible feeling gnawing at his insides at the sight of them, made only worse by the scent in the air that permeated his and Computer's shared nostrils; it was Muriel's scent, yes, but there was… something off about it. It was befouled somehow, and the change made every part of his psyche want to scream out, his nerves unwinding themselves as a terrible memory clawed its way up to the surface of his mind.

He'd smelled this tainted odour before, only once; when he'd been dragged by Eustace to visit Ma Bagge after her extreme age had finally caught up with her. Courage had never understood the woman, to be honest, even to the very end. She flipped like a coin between being the kindest lady ever toward him, and just as horrible and cruel as the Farmer, if not moreso.

Either way, the malign scent of that day had never truly left the pink dog's memory, and dredging it back up served only to make him, and thus Computer in their shared frame, queasy. How long had Muriel been carrying the odor that frightened him so, and how had he not picked up on it sooner? That dread was starting to rear up again, its 'tail' like ice against Courage's chest, constricting him, held back from swallowing him utterly only by the contention it seemed to have with Computer's presence. Courage wouldn't have ever thought, at least not consciously, that Computer playing possessor to half his body would, of all things, be some way to ground him, but it seemed to be working fairly well enough; enough so that he wouldn't have another meltdown, at least.

As for Computer, seeing as he was still in control of the body, he simply made his way over to the bed and clambered up onto the nearby seat, trying his best to look as 'Courage-like' as he possibly could with his facial expression. He'd seen plenty of the dog's face before, but mimicking such a sad, constantly-concerned look was a tad too much for him, so his eyebrows, tilted up as they were, seemed a bit too crooked with the natural scowl his countenance seemed to want to settle into. Regardless, he tried his best to appear concerned for the old woman, but wasn't exactly in any position to do much other than that; she was asleep, and he wasn't even meant to be in here.

Some part of the machine even wondered why he'd come in the first place; the Twit had been out of town for longer than this, so what had been that overwhelming urge to spring into action to begin with? He doubted the existence of divination, and yet that illogical, uninformed feeling of something being intensely wrong had no doubt saved Courage's life. For now, discontent as it made him to not have the answers to a question, especially as it was one of his own pondering, he supposed he'd file it away as one of the strange happenings of Nowhere.

He was soon snapped out of his meandering train of thought by the old lady mumbling in her sleep about Courage being so helpful with the breakfast, their shared eyebrow raising slightly at the utterance. Computer still couldn't shake that sensation of 'wrongness' leaching into him through Courage's mounting dread, though, and it was not a comfortable feeling for the machine to try and process; it was far too much like fear for his liking, and it made their mingled pink and purple fur stand on end.

The two had no clue what was even wrong with the woman, after all, and Courage's anxious disposition could most definitely be making mountains out of molehills. Again, however, the strain of said anxiety was even making it hard for Computer to try and think logically though, and his brows furrowed once more. Why must the Twit's cowardice be so all-encompassing? He thought to himself with a slight sneer upon his face, resting his paws against his hips as he tried to push back against the mounting worry and stress that Courage was inflicting their body with. They had to think straight. There had to be something somewhere that could tell them what was wrong, and Computer could likely work something out from there.

He sighed, tilting his head slightly to glance about the room, eyes narrowing as he studied every inch of it with scrutiny. He doubted that anything medically important was stashed away with any ease of access, especially to them, but on the other hand, this was Nowhere Hospital, and competency seemed to be something alien to them here. If any hospital anywhere would lack comprehension of the term 'Patient Confidentiality', it would be here. That was still a what-if at the moment, however, and it wasn't exactly something they could rely on, even as he made note of a set of drawers in the corner of the room.

Nor was waiting around to hear if/when the doctor would visit this room; they could be here for hours with nothing to show for it.

The whole situation was agitating for Computer, truthfully. Not knowing about Muriel's condition, and not knowing what he could do to help the Twit deal with this whole situation, angered some deep part of the otherwise-aloof machine, even if he would deny such.

Letting out an indignant snort (seemingly out of nowhere for Courage, who wasn't privy to Computer's more subtle thoughts), the possessed canine gave Muriel another quick glance, before turning his focus toward that same drawer again. It was a long shot, but better to check than leave it, right?

Hopping back down off the seat, the pink and purple dog began making his way over to that corner, ears tilting as he listened out for anything at all behind him, be it Muriel moving or even the approach of footsteps from anyone outside, keeping himself at full alert even as he reached the corner, and the drawers that sat within it. With a slight hum, he grasped at one of the handles, the one attached to the lowest drawer, and pulled it.

He seemed surprised when the smooth, grey plastic actually slid open, especially considering the presence of what seemed to have been a lock on it, his eyebrows raising slightly at how easy it was, and the plethora of papers stored within. Seriously, how on Earth were they not out of business for such negligence? It was almost comedic.

Ruffling through the pages, however, only returned the expression of annoyance to the dog's face, his eyes narrowing slightly as he went through sheet after sheet, finding roughly nothing of any use in there whatsoever. He should have probably guessed that it wasn't going to be that easy. With a huff, he closed the drawer back up and moved on to checking the next one instead, cursing their short stature as he stretched up onto his tiptoes to grab it and pull it open, ears still like radars as they honed in on any slightest sound.

He was pleasantly surprised to find that the next drawer slid open too, but now came another puzzle to solve; how were they supposed to see the contents of the drawer with their pintsized frame? There wasn't exactly anything they could climb on top of, other than the chair, and that might have made too much noise. Muriel was far from a light sleeper, Computer knew that well enough even without Courage's knowledge on her, but the sound of a scraping, wooden chair against the ground might have been too much to deal with. Another huff escaped the dog, their purple and blue eyes narrowing further with annoyance. Nothing seemed to be going right for the pair of them.

After a streak of thoughts that went nowhere fast, Computer gave an irate 'Feh!' and turned back around, all but stomping toward the nearby chair and grabbing at its legs. A snort escaped their shared frame, and with a grunt Computer began to pull the chair, ears tilting back and a wince growing upon their face at the abhorrent scraping noise that filled the room, ceasing after pulling the chair a few inches across the ground as their mismatched eyes darted toward Muriel to watch for any potential movement, and then toward the door for anything else. Content when she didn't budge (a certain phrase that was a bit too on-the-nose and morbid came to mind for Computer for but a moment) and nobody showed up in response to the heinous sound, he moved the chair another few feet, repeating the process several times until the seat was positioned up close to the drawers.

With everything set up and the surprising quiet of the room at the moment, the chimeric canine clambered up onto the chair again, ears tilting as Muriel once more mumbled in her sleep, thanking Courage for… something or the other that he couldn't quite make out. He shook his head, before focusing back on the now-accessible drawer, beginning to rustle through it as he had the previous, and this time the results seemed to have more promise. The fact that Nowhere Hospital was this lax with medical history was still a concept that boggled Computer's mind, and almost made him wonder if the more terrestrial threats that Courage had dealt with, such as Le Quack, had learned of the occupants of the farmhouse from this hospital. It seemed almost conspiratory, but he had proof of it right here in their shared paws.

Deciding to push those thoughts aside for the moment and focus on the task at hand, Computer began his diligent search for Muriel's information, scanning through the names on each file and discarding them to the side; again the disbelief of how easy this extremely sensitive information was to access floored him, with several names coming up that Courage seemed to recognize, at least in passing, which Computer felt as a subtle twitch within their shared limbs. He decided against reading through any of the recognized names, however, and focused solely on his hunt for Muriel's records, to try and find anything on what was currently plaguing the old woman.

And after a few minutes more of this endeavor, he finally reached the jackpot, letting out a triumphant (and rather loud) 'AHA!' as he raised the paper out of the drawer. His head immediately whipped around to face Muriel after he realized what he'd done, but again she seemed peacefully unaware of anything going on in the room, still snoring away and muttering incoherently in her sleep. The machine chastised himself mentally for letting out such a dopey noise, before focusing back on the papers in his paws, eyes narrowing slightly to combat against the blurriness creeping into their vision (what was with that, anyway? Courage never had any vision problems that Computer knew of) so he could read as comfortably as possible.

He browsed the information almost casually for the most part, their shared, discolored eyes digesting as much information as possible from the paper sheets; it seemed even Courage was unaware of some of Muriel's medical history, as Computer felt that twitchy sensation down their arms once again (he noted rather quickly that it meant Courage's interest had been piqued, at least thus far.), but for the most part it was things that Courage knew, and thus Computer knew from the pink dog's memoirs.

He flipped through a few more pages, drawing closer to whatever was currently going on (at least the documents were dated, he supposed, as little as that alleviated the complete lack of any sort of security for these files) and making small mental notes of everything going on in more recent years more intently than he had noted older information that was unlikely to be of any importance. His eyes narrowed further with scrutiny (and annoyance at the blurriness encroaching upon his vision again) as he flipped through the papers again, finally reaching the page dated from the early morning when Muriel was brought in by the Farmer.

And immediately, Computer felt their blood run cold as ice upon reading the diagnosis, that twitching sensation becoming a full-on spasm as Courage all but tore control from Computer (an action that took the digital being by surprise), letting out a mournful howl of abject horror. It was as though his greatest fears had been realized, pulled into reality and were now bearing down upon him. "No, no, no, no! Not Muriel, not Muriel!"

His head met the drawer in front of him with a resounding thump as he cried out, forgetting himself as to where they currently were, the paper fluttering to the ground as he let go of it, pulling up a guttural sob from his deepest depths. Again, the pink and purple canine's skull met the drawer, sending a reverberating ache through their shared body. Computer was struggling to gain control again and stop Courage from seriously hurting them both (he didn't exactly want to find out what happened if the dog bashed himself into a coma whilst he was present in the body too) as the pink dog's head met the drawer again, some deranged chimaera of sadness, frustration and deep-set rage boiling up from within Courage's entire system. It was almost overwhelming, even for Computer, those feelings so strong they were starting to leach into the machine's own thoughts too. He knew Courage cared deeply and utterly for Muriel and had faced literal deities for her (at least they had claimed Godhood, according to those memoirs), but this outburst was so sudden and so violent toward himself for something he had no real control over. It almost seemed uncharacteristic of Courage, but at the same time this was a completely alien situation for them both; sure, the threat of death and harm had always been there, but it had always been some sort of physical or ectoplasmic creature that Courage had eventually won out over in the end.

Sickness was not the same as a raging storm goddess, or alien poultry, and the fact Courage could do nothing about it… this must have been the emotion of grief. It was such a powerful emotion that Computer found himself swept up by its currents too, though he still had to stop the dog from mangling himself against the drawer (the noise especially dangerous for their current situation) and was still struggling to do so, until he eventually managed to rip back control, pulling their body away forcefully as he all but roared 'TWIT!' at his mental roommate.

The struggle between the dog and machine made their body freeze up like a statue, eyes staring nigh-vacantly as Computer pulled back every limb Courage attempted to force forward, stalemating the duo (which was a lot better than Courage cracking his head open out of an uncontrolled emotional outburst, at the very least), Computer attempting to try and calm the dog. Attempting being the operative word. The mechanical creature was obviously not too privy to the vast world of emotion, and Courage was currently in the depths of a powerful, negative one that Computer had never had to handle before. He didn't know where to start other than stopping Courage from maiming himself, but something had to be done to calm and soothe him, Computer knew that much.

Wait.

Computer may have not had access to the internet, but he had a good(ish) idea… And any idea was better than playing statue to stop Courage making their new headache into anything worse, the machine clearing his voice as he 'turned' to Courage in their shared mindscape.

"Listen, Twit."

No response.

"...Twit."

Again, no response.

"...Twit."

A third time being ignored.

"Twit."

a fourth.

Computer exhaled, trying his best to not lose his own temper (which was, as is probably expected of a machine, extremely easy) as he prodded mentally at Courage again, continuing to repeat 'Twit' until the pink pooch finally cracked: and indeed he did, snapping at Computer with something between a growl and that incoherent babble the dog often let out, the apparent anger in his voice simply a facade for the ache beneath; an ache Computer was intent on trying to help with, regardless of how well he was capable of doing so.

And so Computwr chose his next words very, very carefully, still listening for any movement, especially after their body's violent outburst:

"We still have time to cure her, Twit."