Prompt 2 – Too Much of A Good Thing/Overindulgence
The chatter and laughter that stemmed from the small amount of partygoers in the house took its time dying down as they started to become tired and ready to enjoy some quiet time. Troy didn't particularly enjoy parties in general, but having one for a close friend was another matter, especially when that friend needed some pampering every once in a while. The friend in question was Dietrich, who despised parties even more than Troy, but had allowed himself to get dragged into making the flight to North Carolina for his birthday to be hosted by Hitch.
"Thanks for letting us use everything, Mrs. Hitchcock," Troy said while helping Hitch's mother put the food away.
"Sam, I've told you many times that you may call me Irena. You don't have to be so formal," Irena replied.
"Sorry."
"It's alright." The older woman smiled at him. "It was nice to see everyone. Hans seemed to enjoy it, even though he said he wasn't going to."
"Well—" Troy looked at what remained of the cake. "I'd say that's a good indicator that he enjoyed it."
Irena looked mildly concerned. "I expected there to be more leftovers."
Troy shrugged. "Maybe someone already packed some to take home. You and Anah collaborated on it, and it showed—that was the best cake I've ever had. I wouldn't mind taking some home."
"Agreed," Moffitt said from the counter, sipping his tea. "It was a very rich, dense, delicious cake. Best in smaller pieces, though."
"I'm glad you all enjoyed it," Irena said.
A period of silence passed, then Moffitt asked, "Where is Dietrich anyway?"
"That's a good question," Troy said.
"Last I saw, he was in the library," Tully said.
Troy set his coffee down before heading to the library, just two rooms from the kitchen. Sure enough, he found Dietrich sitting under a window, not looking too great. He was staring aimlessly, his face a bit pale, with his back pressed against a bookshelf and both arms wrapped around his stomach. He shifted in a way that suggested he wasn't comfortable. "Hey," Troy said. "You okay, buddy?"
Dietrich gave Troy a look that suggested he didn't want to be bothered, which, naturally, made Troy want to keep bothering him until he got answers.
"You looked like you were having fun earlier," Troy added. "What's wrong? Tired from being around people for a couple hours?"
Dietrich's expression was getting more and more sour. "Go away," he muttered.
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
"Why?"
"Leave me alone, Troy, I do not feel well."
"What kind of 'not feel well?'"
"The kind that is none of your business."
Troy put his hands on his hips, giving Dietrich a stern look. "We're not playing this game again. Tell me what's wrong, so I can help."
"No." Dietrich look past Troy, and groaned. "Why did you have to bring everyone else?"
Troy looked over his shoulder, seeing Moffitt, Hitch, and Tully behind him. "I didn't. They just showed up."
"I want everyone to just leave me alone for a few… hours."
Tully worked his matchstick around his mouth. "Dietrich, I'm going to just throw a guess out there and ask if this has something to do with the fact that there's a lot more cake missing than we anticipated."
"Yeah, and that was a really rich cake," Hitch added, his eyes widening. "I wouldn't have had a big slice of it."
"I was just saying that a minute ago," Moffitt said.
"But you, Dietrich, had not one, but two big ol' slices of cake," Troy added.
"I'm going to presume that you are suffering the consequences of your overindulgence." Moffitt frowned and shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. For shame, Dietrich."
Dietrich weakly smirked. "Alright. I might be." His smirk quickly faded, replaced with his previous sour expression and discomfort. "I still want you all to leave me alone."
"I was gonna offer an antacid," Hitch said.
Dietrich grimaced. "No, please. I do not want to put anything in my mouth for a while."
"Well, your other option is to wait it out," Tully said.
"That was my original plan, so could you please leave now?"
Troy glared at him. "No, we're not going to leave."
Dietrich rubbed his face. "For heaven's sake, Troy, you and everyone else's nagging and fussing is just going to turn my stomach, which is the last thing it needs right now."
"Dietrich, I hate to be this way, but—"
"You did bring this on yourself," Moffitt interjected.
Troy gave the lanky Englishman a look.
Moffitt returned the look. "Am I wrong?"
"No. I was just going to say the same thing, but nicer."
"Then I will stand by my words."
Dietrich groaned. "Could you two please not argue?"
Troy looked at Tully. "Help me move him to a couch."
"No, please, do not move me. I feel as though I will throw up if you move me so much as an inch."
"We really should get you to a more comfortable spot."
Tully looked greatly concerned. "Uh, Sarge? I feel like that's going to be as difficult as trying to move those highly sensitive explosives we had to deal with in North Africa. Remember those? They looked like pink tennis balls."
Now it was Troy's turn to sigh. "Yeah, I remember. Alright, we'll leave Dietrich here."
"Thank you," Dietrich said. "Finally. Some sense from you."
Troy ignored that, and looked around at the others. "Okay, what do you all recommend we do to help him?"
"If he's gonna refuse an antacid, the best we can do is wait," Tully said. "Maybe a bit of ginger ale would help."
"Ginger tea?" Moffitt piped up.
"Not every problem can be solved with tea," Troy muttered.
"This problem can be solved with tea."
"I said, I want nothing in my mouth. I am afraid it will just result in me throwing up," Dietrich said. He looked increasingly uncomfortable. "And could we avoid talking about throwing up as well?"
"You're the only one talking about throwing up, buddy," Troy said.
"And now you are, too," Dietrich muttered. "Stop it."
"You started it."
"Well, stop contributing to it!"
Tully put his hands in his pockets, ignoring Troy and Dietrich's arguing. "How about we start simple? If we can't move Dietrich, why don't we bring pillows so he's not leaning against the hard bookshelves?"
"I'll go get some pillows," Hitch said.
When Hitch left, Anah slithered into the room. "Why is everyone gathered in here?" she asked.
"Oh, not you, too." Dietrich put his head on his knees.
"Dietrich ate too much cake," Troy said.
"You could have worded that better, Troy," Dietrich muttered.
"I'm not sure there's a better way to word that."
"It makes me sound like an irresponsible child."
"I have to agree with Troy here," Moffitt said. "There really is no clearer way to describe this predicament."
"Oh, dear." Anah climbed up to Moffitt's shoulders. "Would you like some ginger ale or an antacid tablet, Dietrich?"
"No, thank you," Dietrich said.
"Are you sure? It would help—"
"I said no."
"Fine. You will just have to sit there, and we will keep you company."
"You can keep me company in silence."
Hitch returned with a few pillows in hand. "I told Mom what's going on," he said. "She offered to make a glass of water and baking soda."
"No. For the last time, I want nothing. Are you all incapable of understanding that?"
Troy sighed before turning to the others. "Could you give us a few minutes, please?"
Moffitt and Tully nodded, then left the room. Hitch held up the pillows, which Troy took. Once he was alone with Dietrich, Troy sat close to him. "Look, I get it, you feel like crap, but you don't have to snap at everyone for trying to help."
Dietrich glanced at him. "I would have been more pleasant if you all had listened to me the first time when I said I wanted to be left alone."
"Fine. Then I won't get anything unless you ask for it."
"That is all I wanted, Troy. Thank you."
Troy stayed where he was seated, though, looking up and out the window. It didn't take long for him to get tired of the silence. "So, apart from stuffing yourself like a Thanksgiving turkey, did you have a good birthday?"
"I did. It is still sometimes hard to believe that there was once a time where I could care less about my own birthday."
"I can understand that." Troy gestured toward the doorway. "My own team didn't know my birthday until after the war."
"Did you even acknowledge your birthday?"
"Not really. All I'd do to 'celebrate,' if you can even call it that, was stay up a little later and have an extra cigarette. Did you ever do anything?"
"I did something similar, but while my aunt was still alive, she would send a box of chocolates."
Troy smirked. "So, you've always had a bit of a sweet tooth."
Dietrich rolled his eyes. "No. Anyway, I still remember the year after Aunt Miriam passed away, my depression was getting worse, so… I did not acknowledge my birthday at all, and never did until the year after we started making things better between us."
"And this is a hell of a lot better, right?"
"I agree. It is." Dietrich was quiet for a moment, and a look of defeat came over him. "I think I will take an antacid tablet now. Maybe two."
"Okay." Troy stood, and paused before ruffling Dietrich's hair.
"That was unnecessary," Dietrich muttered.
"The opportunity was there, so I took it."
"You just could not help yourself, could you?"
"Says the guy sitting here with an upset stomach from eating loads of cake because he couldn't help himself."
"Shut up and go get those damn tablets, please."
