Archive of Our Own ^beta

  Behind the door, an alarm clock was ringing. Ace was pounding on it and yelling,

  “Riddle! Turn off your damn alarm! We know you’re in there!”

  Deuce covered his face with his hand, already feeling the incoming storm of Riddle’s fury. Cater was filming everything on his smartphone.

  Ace banged on the door again.

  “Deuce, you’re the strongest here. Break the door!”

  “So I would face Riddle’s wrath? No thanks.” Deuce crossed his arms. “We already have witnesses.”

  “Here I am,” Trey appeared, holding up a key. “Spent whole hour chasing the hedgehog for it.”

  “You couldn’t just push it or something?!” Ace exclaimed, stepping aside.

  “They’re Riddle’s hedgehogs,” Trey reminded him, sliding the key into the lock.

  He opened the door and immediately covered his ears.

  “My ears!” Cater cried.

  “Turn off the stream!” Deuce barked.

  “I can’t! What if something happens? We need evidences!”

  Trey approached the bed and found Riddle fast asleep.

  The vice-housewarden turned off the alarm and shook Riddle’s shoulder.

  “Riddle. Riddle!”

  Riddle snorted loudly and muttered something unintelligible.

  “Keep the stream?” Ace whispered to Cater.

  Trey placed his palm on Riddle’s forehead. It was burning.

  “He’s sick,” Trey said, turning to the others. “In that case, I’ll take over as dorm leader…”

  “N-no way…” Riddle rasped weakly, raising a trembling hand. “O-off with… your head…” Then the hand dropped.

  “Well, at least he can hear us,” Deuce observed.

  “Riddle?” Trey shook his shoulder again. “Riddle, can you hear me?”

  “Who… dared… to paint… the roses…?” Riddle murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Trey sighed. “Let’s make some tea and chicken broth.”

***

  “How come none of you has ever made chicken soup?!” Trey’s voice echoed through the kitchen.

  “I’ve never cooked it,” Ace admitted, shrugging as he hovered near the stove.

  “I… don’t want to talk about it,” Deuce muttered, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

  Trey turned to Cater, who still was recording everything.

  “You’re always online,” Trey reminded him.

  “Yeah, but I look for pretty dish,” Cater said with a grin.

  “Oh, for Seven’s sake… how can anyone not know how to make chicken soup?” Trey groaned, rubbing the space between his brows. “It’s the simplest thing ever.”

  “That’s what you said about the omelet,” Ace shot back, planting his hands on his hips before pointing at Deuce. “And then Deuce spent an hour learning how to open a can.”

  “Hey! Stop making me look like a total idiot!” Deuce protested.

  “Alright, move aside!” Trey barked, heading straight for the fridge.

  Cater followed, still streaming. Trey pulled out a piece of fresh chicken, rinsed it in the sink, and dropped it into a small pot. Then he opened a cupboard and barely managed to drag out an enormous water jug.

  “Need a hand?” Deuce offered.

  “I-I’ve got it!” Trey hissed through clenched teeth.

  He tried to lift it.

  “Let me,” Deuce said, helping him hoist it up. Together, they poured the water into the pot, both exhaling in relief when it was done. Trey closed the jug, placed the pot on the stove and lit the burner.

  “This is difficult for you?” Trey demanded, pointing at the pot.

  Cater turned the camera toward Ace like he was filming a drama.

  “Well…” Ace crossed his arms. “Who was supposed to touch your sacred kitchen? You’re the one who said not to touch anything. We’re just following the rules.” He lifted his finger in mock authority.

  “Only when it suits you,” Trey said wearily.

  Ace faltered.

  “That’s all?” Deuce asked, staring at the pot.

  “Not quite. We still need mint tea,” Trey said. “I hope that won’t be a problem for you?”

  “Of course not!” Ace burst out laughing. “We can make tea.”

  “Mint tea, Ace. Mint,” Trey crossed his arms.

  “Yeah, yeah. Obviously mint.” Ace opened a cabinet then froze. “Trey, why do you have so many jars?”

  “To keep the tea fresh longer,” Trey replied, adjusting his glasses.

  “So… we actually have to brew it?” Ace blinked.

  “That’s how you keep the flavor.”

  Ace’s face twisted in despair.

***

  The scent of broth and mint drifted through the dorm hallway as Trey carried a tray, followed closely by Ace, Deuce, and Cater.

  “I just got a message from Vil,” Cater said, tapping his phone. “I told him Riddle’s sick. He says you should come.”

  “Tell him I’ll be there soon,” Trey said.

  “Uh, Trey?” Ace’s voice dropped. “Was the door… always open?”

  They stopped.

  The door to Riddle’s room stood wide open.

***

  “Cater texted that Trey’s on his way,” Vil said, sliding his phone into his jacket pocket.

  “Then we can wait,” Azul replied.

  The door swung open.

  Headmage and housewardens turned.

  “I’m here,” came a hoarse voice.

  “By the Great Seven!” Crowley gasped. “Rosehearts, is that you?!”

  Riddle stood in the doorway, pale and trembling, eyes glassy, uniform rumpled. His breath sounded like a broken clockwork toy.

  “When you criticize my dress code again, I’ll remind you of this,” Leona muttered.

  “Riddle, you should be resting!” Crowley blurted.

  Riddle staggered to his chair and collapsed.

 “Ugh, he reeks of soup,” Leona groaned.

  “L-let’s… begin,” Riddle rasped, raising one trembling hand.

  “Riddle, you should return to Heartslabyul immediately,” Azul interrupted. “You’ll infect everyone here! Well… except me, of course. I have flawless immune system.” He smiled proudly.

  “Riddle Rosehearts, return to your dorm this instant!” Crowley ordered.

  “I-I’m fine,” Riddle wheezed. “I can’t… be sick…”

  “And you can’t use deodorant either?” Leona muttered.

  “You should listen to the Headmage,” Kalim said kindly. “You look awful.”

  “That’s why I prefer staying behind a screen,” Idia’s voice came from the tablet.

  “I am fine!” Riddle insisted.

  Then burst into a violent fit of coughing.

  “This is unacceptable,” Crowley declared.

  Riddle doubled over, and an unpleasant sound followed.

  “Ewwww!” Leona and Kalim chorused in disgust.

  “Did he just throw up?!” Azul exclaimed.

  “I’m leaving!” Vil stood up, keeping his distance as he headed for the door. “I cannot get sick right now!”

***

  “I offer my deepest apologies,” Trey said outside Riddle’s room. “I never thought Riddle would cause this much trouble.”

  Crowley waved a hand. “Oh, no harm done! The important thing is that no one got hurt.”

  “Except my nose,” Leona grumbled, pinching it shut.

  Azul adjusted his tie, smiling with calculated sweetness. “You know, I could help Riddle. Fish oil is the best medicine.”

  “No, thank you,” Trey cut him off immediately.

  The door creaked open. Ace and Deuce stepped out, wearing masks and looking as if they’d survived a battle.

  “We barely managed to get him into bed,” Ace panted.

  “He should be fighting some bullies, not us,” Deuce added.

  Crowley blinked. “Why the masks?”

  “Riddle’s got virus,” Azul said smoothly. “Anyone with a weak immune system should stay away.”

  Crowley recoiled instantly. “In that case, Trey, as vice housewarden, your duty is to make sure no one else in Heartslabyul gets sick.”

  “I’ll do my duty,” Trey said, adjusting his hat.

  “Splendid!” Crowley chirped, fleeing the hallway.

  Trey turned to the others. “So, does anyone here have a strong immune system?”

  Azul opened his mouth.

  “Not Octavinelle,” Trey said firmly, crossing his arms.

  Azul’s smile dropped.

  “I heard Jack got good health.” Leona said lazily. “Maybe that Epel kid too. You’ll have to talk to Vil.”

  “Thank you,” Trey said, managing a small smile. “I’ll repay you, Leona. And don’t even think about contracts, Azul!”

  Azul sighed and dismissed the glowing parchment with a flick of his fingers.

***

  “I-I must… get up…” Riddle rasped. “I have to…”

  The blanket held him down like a spell.

  The door opened, and Epel and Jack stepped inside.

  “And here we are!” Epel said brightly then froze. “Holy shit!”

  “Language…” Riddle wheezed.

  “Sorry. Bad habit. You just look… awful. Right, Jack?”

  “Sorry,” Jack said, ears twitching. “Instincts.”

  “What instincts?”

  Jack walked up to Riddle’s bed and lay down on top of Riddle.

  Riddle’s voice cracked. “WHAT-WHAT IS THIS?!”

  Epel’s grin returned. “Oh, I’ve seen this! Dogs do it. They lie on their owners to keep them warm.”

  “I don’t have owners,” Jack said calmly. “When my younger siblings got sick, I’d lie beside them so they wouldn’t be afraid.”

  “Then it’s big-brother instincts,” Epel said, nodding sagely.

  “What… do you think… you’re doing…?” Riddle rasped.

  “Watching over you,” Jack replied.

  Epel came closer. “Don’t worry about classes. Ace and Deuce promised to bring your homework. We told professors we’d study here.”

  Riddle made a strangled noise somewhere between a cough and a groan.

  “How about to watch that show? The one about the hero who gets transported to another world?” Epel asked.

  “The one with the ex–pro wrestler?” Jack asked. “His name became a meme.”

  “Yeah, that one!”

  “I don’t think Riddle can follow it,” Jack said seriously. “He missed the first season.”

  “No shows!” Riddle rasped furiously. “We must… study!”

  Epel rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows you’re sick. Trey gave your homework to Professor Trein. He’ll bring more later. So just lie still, okay? Until you need something.”

***

  All day, Riddle did little more than sleep, drink tea, and eat soup while Jack and Epel sat nearby and watched their show.

  Whenever Riddle needed to leave room, Jack followed him like a guard dog. Or maybe, like an older brother.

 At Epel’s request, Jack shifted into his wolf form so Riddle could rest more comfortably. The weight of him was warm and comforting. Riddle’s hand moved lazily through the wolf’s thick fur, his fevered mind drifting in and out of dreams. He couldn’t imagine what he would tell his mother.

***

  “Mother, my head is spinning,” Riddle whined.

  “That’s no excuse,” Mrs. Rosehearts said sharply. “You’ve been sitting in bed all day. Use your time wisely.”

  “Stop pressuring the boy!” Mr. Rosehearts protested. “He needs his strength to recover!”

  “I’m giving him the finest medicine,” she snapped. “While it’s working, he can at least read.”

  “He can barely think in this state!”

  “He’ll think of something!”

  Her words struck like a whip. His father’s reply fell apart halfway through. They always argued about how to raise him. His mother’s opinion always won. His father, though stern, had gentler edges. But he wasn’t always home to protect Riddle form mother’s influence.

  And she was always the authority.

***

  Riddle woke with a dull ache behind his eyes. The remnants of fever still clinging to him like fog.

  Jack and Epel were gone. Probably off doing homework or running errands.

  It was the perfect chance to get back to duties.

  Trey must have left homework on the desk.

  Riddle swung his legs over the side of the bed and froze.

  Someone was sitting in the chair.

  Tall. Shadowed. Horns curved upward, and eyes glowing green in the dim light.

  Riddle gasped.

  “Did I frighten you?” Malleus asked softly with amusement in his voice. “My apologies.”

  “M–Malleus…” Riddle’s throat felt raw. “What are you… doing here?”

  “I was asked to watch over you,” Malleus replied. “Fae have strong immunity. Sebek and Silver are guarding the door. Though I suspect Silver has fallen asleep again.”

  “Jack… and Epel…?”

  “They went to assist Deuce and Ace. Don’t trouble yourself about homework. I’ve already prepared the answers.”

  “W-what…?”

  The word slipped out. Riddle was too tired even to protest.

  “Oh, dear,” Malleus said softly. “You’ve gone pale again. You should rest.”

  “I can’t… I must… study…”

  Malleus’s eyes glowed softly green, and Riddle collapsed back onto the bed.

  “I thought he knew that sleep is the best medicine,” Malleus murmed. “Why does he fight it so hard?”

***

  When Riddle woke again, Trey was bringing him tea and broth.

  “I have to… finish my homework,” Riddle murmured, trying to sit up.

  “Riddle, what you need right now is strength,” Trey said gently.

  “You’re giving me… my mother’s medicine?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then… that’s enough…”

  Trey froze, surprised. He’d never seen Riddle sick before.

  When they were children, Mrs. Rosehearts never let Trey visit. She’d called him a bad kid.

  “Riddle,” Trey said softly, “your mother meant well, but she wasn’t right about everything.”

  “You sound… like my father,” Riddle sighed.

  “Well…,” Trey smiled faintly, “he was right about this one. We just want you to recover. For that: you need a real rest”

  “I am resting…”

  “She’s not here, Riddle,” Trey sat down on the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to do everything she said. Even mothers make mistakes. There’s no such thing as a perfect woman. My mom learned that long ago.”

  “But… she’s always right…”

  “As your friend, it hurts to see you like this. I’m happy when you’re happy. Don’t you want to get better?”

  “I do…”

  “Then listen to me. You need to rest.”

  Riddle exhaled slowly. He didn’t have the strength to argue.

  “Promise me you’ll make sure those idiots don’t break the Queen of Hearts’ rules,” he muttered.

  Trey smiled. “Don’t worry about that. Now I’ve got class. Jack and Epel will take care of you.”

  “Again?” Riddle groaned.

  The door creaked open. Epel stepped inside, grinning, followed by Jack, already in his wolf form.

  “Here we are!” Epel announced. “ Gotta admit, this is the best job we’ve ever had.”

  Jack climbed onto the bed, curling around Riddle like living warmth.