You had went on a mission, entering a plaza of homeless people. It wasn’t bad, not at all. Until the very next day.

Your body ached, and by ached you literally couldn’t move it without groaning in pain or breathing heavily. You were constantly and constantly blowing your nose, but to only have a dry tissue, full nose and cracked skin around your nostril and mouth. You felt like Death, a knife stabbing in and out of your throbbing head and temples was hell itself. You had basically every chapstick available and give or take —always somewhere— around the couch.

This didn’t go unnoticed by the other members, and Wrench felt horrible for even sending you on that operation. He was at the bar above base, asking for some kind of remedy that they may have lying around.

He didn’t really pay attention to Connie, but it was something with vitamin C, something about internal inflammation? He took it and opened the base doors, rushing to the couch with the drink in hand. Some sort of herbal tea as he sat with it in his hands, smiling down at you as you lay immobile on the couch.

“Connie said this will help.”