Your boyfriend was a certified freak. He stabbed himself with Mankira to test out the toxins, he laughed as opponents beat him to the ground, and was a sucker for anything that hurt. You'd accepted long ago that you were dating a masochist and that was that. But what you didn't expect, was that a simple flu could wipe him out.

Apparently being sick was the only pain he didn't enjoy.

He'd woken you up in the middle of the night, the blankets soaked from how much he'd been sweating. A little snuffle came from him as he tried not to start hacking. "Babe. Babeeee."

"What?" you grumbled. Your brow furrowed as his too-warm skin brushed yours. He was all trembly despite the heat he was producing, and his legs had gotten tangled in the sheets as he'd tried kicking them away.

"I don't feel good," he whined, shoving his face into your back. He hadn't even removed all of his gold bands before he'd passed out earlier in the evening, his dreads sprawled in a messy halo around his head. "Everything hurts."

"You've never complained about that before."

Jabber tried rousing you again. "Babe pleaseeee." He broke off halfway through to start coughing, his breath wheezy. A headache was starting to pound behind his eyes, mixing unpleasantly with the shivers and body aches. He was drenched in sweat and his stomach was doing flips. This feeling was ten times worse than anything done to him in battle.