My Grandma Bullies Me Through The Ouija Board

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"Jesus christ what the fuck is all that whining?" Abbacchio massaged his temples, looking up at an odd scene, turning around to go back upstairs and nap until afternoon. For once, wine can wait. He isn't going to deal with this-

"Abbacchio! Grab her legs and hold her down!" Fugo screeched, getting smacked in the face by her arm. Narancia gripped her other arm, holding her still as Bruno kept trying to force the bottle cap into her mouth. They made a startling discovery today when Fugo greeted her that morning, (Y/N) had a fever, but they couldn't seem to get the slippery bastard to drink the goddamn gross ass medicine.

"No no no no no no!! Not gonna!" Her body twisted and contorted in ways that shouldn't be possible for anyone's spine to avoid the disgusting, gross ass syrup. She turned into quite the baby when sick, they established. Abbacchio took a deep breath, forcing himself to join them at the table and grab her head, harshly jerking it into place and watching her immediately shut up, jaw clenched together. That was fine. Bruno quickly unzipped her mouth and shoved the spoon in, waiting until she drank all of it before pulling away. "Why'd you have to make me deepthroat the fucking spoon you SADIST."

"You wouldn't drink the medicine regardless!" Narancia whined, dropping to the floor. "That was so tiring! Why do you have to make this so difficult???"

"Cause it's icky and gross! You drink it next time!" She scowled, chugging some water and snatching a blanket to wrap around her body, despite all the exercise all of them got just trying to get her to take her medicine, she was still freezing.

"I'm not the sick one!" He complained, throwing his hands in the air and Fugo had to steer him away before he punched (Y/N).

In return, she stuck her tongue out at him, going to get an ice pack to cool her head and ward her headache away, Bruno ushering her away to go take a nap. She really wasn't far off from a child like this, he noted, watching her pout and float up the stairs after being too lazy to do much else. It was... almost cute, seeing her flushed cheeks, if only for another reason rather than illness. He watched her flop into bed and bury under too many blankets to count on his hand, silencing the second her face hit her pillow, turn over, try to sleep, then sit up and stare into his soul with her (E/C) eye. "Can't breath."

"You'll breathe fine, go back to sleep."

"I'm going to die in my sleep, can't lay down." She mumbled, staring at the ceiling with a wistful expression. "I used to get sick a lot as a kid too. The walls were thin so it got cold easily. My mom used to hold my hand until I fell asleep."

Something about her story felt nostalgic, and he found himself reaching for her hand, cradling it in his own. He wasn't sure what his aim was, but the way she squeezed his hand as she closed her eyes was enough to make his heart swell. "Get some sleep."

(Y/N) didn't respond, head too heavy to move and she didn't feel like talking. Now, this was a weird predicament to be caught in, but her hand was squeezing his too tightly to slip out. He sighed, glancing around the barren walls a few times, many of them keep it that way, his was rather empty because he didn't really know what to put inside it, Abbacchio's room really only had weights and other exercise equipment around his room, and Fugo's was filled with books upon books upon books. Narancia and her had both lived there for a month or two, but they hadn't really stayed long enough to have their own personalities in their room, even if Narancia had slowly started to amass more Snoop Dog posters and music. Hers had remained just as empty as it had been before. He unzipped his hand, letting her roll over and take it with her to leave her a moment to rest.

-+-

Her eyes slowly opened, staring down at the hand she had cuddled close to her chest. It certainly wasn't hers, too big, too... manly. "I grew a hand..."

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