//------------------------------// // 81 Moonie's Miserable Morning Malaise Mishap // Story: Moonie shorts [Filly Nightmare Moon] // by Eighth //------------------------------// The bed is warm as the thick duvet is wrapped around you in a snug bliss. You drift in and out of sleep, spending most of it in between the two in a strange state of being aware that you're sleeping. It could be seconds ticking by, minutes, or even hours and you'd have no idea as you refuse to let your brain kick into gear. Today is a public holiday, and you intend to spend it catching up on many missed hours of sleep. At least just one or two of them. "Anon," mumbles Moonie. "Mm?" You shrug and roll over in hopes that whatever it is, isn't important and that Moonie will let you rest. Silence seems to fall for a moment and you smile inwardly. Then a pillow softly but firmly boops you on the face. Which is unusual for Moonie. Usually she thumps you hard when she is determined to bother you. "What was that for?" "You weren't waking up," she croaks. "Well, I'm awake now," you yawn as you already plot how to send her away so you can sleep, "No need to wallop me anymore." Moonie goes to speak but then something seems to catch her words. You roll back over and jolt upright. Just barely are you missed by the sick spewing from Moonie's mouth and onto your bed. "Alright, I'm awake," you screech. "I don't feel good," she groans. Her face looks both pale and green, her eyes look blood-shot and gummed-up, while every fibre of her looks to be giving signs of exhaustion. You scoop her up just in case she decides to lay down and get herself covered in more sick than she already is. You can feel something crusted in her coat and decide against checking. It's already clear she's been like this most of the, if not all, night. "Sorry about your bed," she squeaks through her dry throat, "I tried to wake you before." "All good. Don't worry about that, let's get you into bed--" You adjust her in your arms and feel your hand squelch into some fur. "--Actually, a warm bath might do you some good." "That sounds nice," Moonie says before sniffing a few loose strands from her nose. You sit her down in the bathroom floor and then get the water flowing. "Can I have a hot bath?" she states, her speech distorted from a blocked nose. "Of course, now watch the water for me for a minute." "Yeah, 'kay," Moonie replies weakly. With a sense of dread, you step into Moonie's room. Your nostrils are filled with the noxious musk of someone who has spent most of the night sweating. As you inspect the place a quickly, you let out a sigh of relief. Seems your room is the only one with a mess. But you still scoop up her bed sheets and blankets to put in the washer before returning to the bathroom. Already the bath is steaming and almost at the right level. With your hand you test the water and opt to run a bit of cold just to even it out. You then push the water along, stirring it all in the basin to spread the cold. Once you're satisfied with the temperature, you shut off the taps and place Moonie in gently. She winces a little from the heat but reassures you it's what she wants. It only takes a moment to adjust to the hot water, so she leans back to soak in bliss. "I'm going to clean things up a bit. Are you going to be okay?" She nods. "Alright. When I get back, I'll help you wash and then you'll need some medicine, okay?" "I don't want any, it tastes gross," she whines wearily. "I'll make you some tea to have too so it'll wash the taste out." Again she nods. Normally you'd expect protests and the usual childish display, but clearly the sick has sapped all energy from her physically and emotionally. Her head hangs low, looking at her feet as the water's waves distort their appearance, then her eyes look up at you in pleading. "Can I have some gummy candy?" Your heart almost leaps out for her and a voice in your head calls you a monster if you even think to refuse. "I've got some sour watermelon ones stashed away." It's weak, but she smiles. A genuinely warm smile from the idea. Then you leave her to soak for a moment and step into your room. There you scoop up everything that was in the splash zone, and step outside. Using the hose you spray off the 'chunkier' parts before throwing them in the washer with everything else. From there, you step into the kitchen and get everything ready. The medicine that sits in the fridge, the kettle is set to boil, the sour watermelon gummies are out, and you are about to grab a blanket from the linen cupboard when you notice it is mostly bare. Save for a few pillow covers and a blanket, you recall you're overdue on laundry day. You sigh, and head into the lounge room where you roll out the sofa bed. You make that and then head back into the bathroom. Moonie still lies where you left her, nearly floating in the water. Once she sees you, she sits up and resigns to letting you scrub her over. A few matted clumps of fur give you a bit of trouble but hot water and a firm scrub break it apart. "You're not gonna catch my sick, are you?" dryly groans Moonie. "How?" "By being so close and all." "I'm another species to you," you chuckle, "I've never get sick." "Really?" "Yeah, it'll be a scary day when pony illnesses mutate where I can get infected." "What about minotaur germs?" "How would minotaur ones be different?" "Cause you both walk upright," she says flatly. You grimace a little at that, feeling somehow slighted at her comment. "That's not... That's not how any of that works." "Ah, okay," she replies, her voice distant as your run shampoo through her coat. Once the bath is done, you lift the soaked filly onto the floor and gently dry her with a towel. Afterwards you scoop her up into your arms and begin to carry her to the sofa. "You don't have to carry me." "Oh, my bad--" "Well... You might as well now," she adds, clearly feeling a need to get in some brattiness for the day. Once you've set her down on the lounge's fold out, you step into the kitchen to prepare the tea and medicine then grab the gummy candy. Moonie does as she's told, taking the medicine but quickly washes it down with some tea. "Can you read to me?" Moonie asks. For a brief moment, you pause. Thinking over to if your voice, that has still barely woken, is up to the task. Eager to get her way, she mirrors the look from earlier. Hanging her head while her eyes look up at you with pleading. You just chuckle softly as you tuck her into the blanket. Then you grab a book and get in beside her. Moonie gives a little cheer as she cuddles up and digs into her sour gummies while you begin to read. You feel that today, you were a good nurse.