Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sweeney hated many things about his current place in the hospital. He hated the smell of bleaches and cleaners. He hated how bright the lights were. He hated how cold the hospital was. He hated how bright white everything was. He hated the beeping he could hear from other rooms’ machines. He had many more things he hated about it as well, but those were just some he could name immediately. Of course there was one thing he hated more than any of those.

And that was Mrs. Lovett’s constant swooning and fussing over him. He knew she was fond of him, everyone knew, but goodness gracious, must she treat him like he was five? Refilling his water anytime it gkt low, which was often, because of how dry the air was here. Trying to hold his hand. Offering to tell him stories to distract him. Constantly asking how he was. That was the question he hated most. He was in a hospital, how did people think he was?

He hadn’t come here by choice. Not at all. He had been feeling off for a few days, but the last two days before leaving were the worst. The first, he had developed a slight fever. He had ignored it and continued on with his life, pretending to be fine, but by day two it had worsened. Everything was worse. He had gone downstairs to ask Mrs. Lovett for medicine (which he already wasn’t exactly fond of doing) and when she saw him her jaw had dropped and she had immediately sent him back up to his room, demanding he rest.

Another thing he hadn’t liked.

And the day after that he wasn’t any better, so to the hospital they went, Sweeney complaining about it whenever his throat felt good enough for him to do so. The only reason he hadn’t fought against doing was his lack of energy to do so. Along with a lack of coherent thoughts.

The arrival was full of issues (including an attempt from Sweeney to leave, but Lovett had quickly stopped that) starting with when they couldn’t figure out where to go. They didn’t even know what exactly was wrong with him. High fever, sore throat, those were generic symptoms. He could have a common case of the flu or he could have the plague, who knew?

By the time they had gotten to a room, even Sweeney had to admit he was in bad shape. The doctors had given him a fever reducer, but it had barely dented his temperature. They had tried medicine after medicine, playing around with different doses, strengths, and pills, but nothing seemed to do the trick.

And now it was day two here. Sweeney had an IV in his arm, but he wasn’t sure what for. The doctors had explained it, but he hadn’t been paying attention to them. His fever wasn’t any lower but his head was slightly more clear. They had been giving him a medicine through the IV (not the original reason he had it put in, but it was the use now) that helped him focus and make more sense of his thoughts, overall dulling how bad he felt.

Now, he just needed the doctors to think clear enough to fix him, but instead they all seemed incompetent, unable to come up with something. Whenever he complained to Mrs. Lovett about this she just told him to be patient, so he was also impatient with her now.

He looked up when he heard the door to the room he was in open. A doctor came in and Mrs. Lovett looked up as well. “Hello there,” She greeted the doctor.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Charles, I’ve come to talk to you two about what treatment we’ll be doing. Specifically to you, Mr. Todd.” The doctor smiled at them, nodding a bit towards Sweeney.

Sweeney didn’t acknowledge the nod or the greeting, he just waited for the doctor to continue. He had come (been dragged) here to be helped and made better, not have idle small talk. He could see the doctor waiting for him to reply, getting slightly off-put when he didn’t, along with Mrs. Lovett making a gesture for him to respond, but he still didn’t do so.

“How are we feeling, Mr. Todd?” The doctor asked, trying to get a reply out of the man.

Sweeney glared a bit, hating the use of ‘we’. It felt condescending in a way. And more so, again, he was in a hospital. How did they think he was feeling? “Why are you here?” He asked instead of answering.

“Well, we have a medicine that’s stronger than any others we’ve tried,” The doctor started. “But… There’s a thing we feel you should know about it. Specifically, it has to be administered through a nasogastric tube.”

Sweeney was instantly listening much more than before. That wasn’t something he liked the sound of, not at all. “And… Why is that?” He asked.

“Not only will it work fastest that way, if it goes directly into your stomach, but the taste of it is that of just pure salt and when taken orally, just gets thrown back up by the patient, usually before they can even fully swallow it,” The doctor explained.

Sweeney definitely didn’t like the sound of this. He already hated that he was stuck in a hospital with Mrs. Lovett, which left him no room to pretend he was fine and unbothered. And it could confidently be said that he didn’t like showing any signs of weakness at all, so being put in a hospital was far from ideal on its own. But add something like a nasogastric tube into the mix? Well then that just further worsened everything.

He rarely let himself into stressful situations, but when put in such, Sweeney tended to handle them… less than well at times. He didn’t even have the tube in the room with him and he could feel a tightness in his chest already. He knew that he would have a hell of a time staying calm while the doctors were actually inserting the tube, and knowing his luck he wouldn’t be able to stay calm at all.

And with Mrs. Lovett right there as well. No, he didn’t like this at all.

“Is this a required thing?” Sweeney asked the doctor.

“Unfortunately, it would appear so, since none of the other medications have been helping you. We’ll be going over the whole process before doing anything though, that way nothing will surprise you during the process, Mr. Todd,” The doctor said.

Sweeney racked his brain for a way he could get out of this. There had to be something, right? Anything. But he went through everything he could think of and couldn’t find a single way to get out of it, causing the tightness in his chest to worsen, along with his mouth drying out.

“When do they want to do it?” Lovett asked.

“Now, preferably.”

Sweeney took a quick breath in. Any excuse, any reason, anything. He didn’t want to do it. But he still couldn’t come up with something. All he could think of was not to let any panic show on his face. He wasn’t sure if he was succeeding, but he didn’t want to know in fear of the answer.

A nurse came into the room next, holding a small plastic bin with things in it that Sweeney could only assume were the things for the nasogastric tube. She smiled at him. “I’m—”

“I don’t care who you are,” Sweeney said short-temperedly.

The nurse blinked, but just smiled more, which further annoyed Sweeney. “That’s fine,” She said. “I’m just going to go over the process with you, does that sound agreeable.”

As a matter of fact, it didn’t sound agreeable, but Sweeney knew he couldn’t say that, so instead he just stayed quiet.

Lovett spoke up, addressing the doctor and the nurse in the room. “Forgive him, he’s never one of many words, even at home he zones out and pays no attention to people around him, only to his own thoughts.” Sweeney only ever paid attention to people half of the time, usually preferring to stay in his own mind, zoned out. It got a but problematic at times when he missed something important that she was telling him, but by now she knew she couldn’t fix it and instead just had to accept it.

“It’s fine,” The nurse said. “We’ve had worse patients, if you’d ever like to hear stories of them. Names will be left out, but it might give you a laugh. Or at least make you feel better about him.”

“No thanks,” Lovett said, knowing she would most likely be told a story that was something else Sweeney had done in the past.

The nurse nodded. “Now, as for the process of the tube insertion,” She said, turning back to Sweeney. “First, I’ll just measure how long it has to be, nothing will happen then, it’ll all be done on the outside. Then, after I’m sure I have the right measurement,  I’ll put some lubricant on the tube so it’ll go in easier, and then, I’ll start to actually give you the tube.”

Sweeney bit the inside of his lip, nodding a bit.

“Before I do anything, you’ll feel me put my hand up against your forehead, just so you can’t jerk forwards and hurt yourself. I’ll just put the tube in one of your nostrils, and it’ll slide up your nose, down your throat, and into your stomach. Then, I’ll take a syringe and make sure it’s in the right place by just seeing if I can pull any stomach acid out of the tube.”

Sweeney knew logically that the entire situation sounded simple. He knew it probably wouldn’t take long… But as of now, he wasn’t listening to logic, he was just wondering if he could yank the IV out of his arm and make a run for it in this condition or not. He had a feeling he probably couldn’t.

But as he watched the nurse start to unwrap the tube, he was considering doing it anyways.

“Just measuring,” The nurse said. She put one end at the bottom of his nose, then measured to his ear, and then down to roughly around his naval. She checked the tube. “Sixty,” She said to herself. She moved the tube away, then reached out again. “I’m measuring again, still not doing anything right now.”

Sweeney had to fight to stay still s she measured it and confirmed the same length as before, nodding to herself and cutting the cord to the appropriate length. “Just a few more things, Mr. Todd,” She told him. “First of all, we’re going to get you some water, and you just have to drink it while we put the tube in, it’ll help he tube go down easier if you do.”

He nodded slightly, not removing his gaze from the dreaded tube that the nurse was preparing with the lubricant.

“And you might gag a bit while we put it down your throat,” The nurse informed. “That’s fine, just try not to. But if you throw up, we’ll have to redo the tube.”

“Well what if I don’t throw up the tube?”

“We’ll still have to take it out and then put it back in,” The nurse said. “Because it might have come out of place.”

Sweeney was liking the sound of things less and less with each thing he was told about this. He was pretty sure he would have rathered them just do it and tell him what to do as they did it.

The nurse finished with the lubricant and put her hand up on Sweeney’s forehead. “Just try to stay still and breathe.”

The doctor came over and handed Sweeney a cup with a straw and water.

Sweeney took it, holding the cup so tight his knuckles went white. He felt the nurse put the tube up against his nostril and felt his chest and throat tighten with anxiety. And then he felt her start to actually insert it. It was a foreign, unwelcome sensation, and he instantly tried to jerk away, but the nurse stopped him, bringing the hand on his head down to the back of his neck.

She moved the back of the bed up more so that way Sweeney could still be sitting up but wouldn’t have anywhere to move to. “Just relax, try not to move.” She brought her hand back up to his forehead, then moved the tube up as well, starting to put it back since she had pulled it out after he had jerked away.

Sweeney could feel his breaths getting uneven as he felt it start to get put back in. He vaguely felt Mrs. Lovett grab his arm, whether it was supposed to be comforting or it was to keep him from fighting the nurse he wasn’t sure. He was entirely too away of the tube making its way up his nose and start down his throat. He wanted to cry out, but he didn’t think he physically could do so.

When he felt it in his throat he instinctively gagged, not hard, but enough that he could feel the tube get slightly disrupted.

“Drink some,” The nurse instructed. “It’ll help you.”

He brought the straw to his mouth and took a sip of the water. He swallowed it and could feel it around the tube, making him that much more aware of its presence. It felt terrible there in his throat, especially when he swallowed the water.

“That’s right, drink some more,” The nurse said, her voice both reassuring and distracted as she focused on making sure she put the tube exactly where it needed to be.

Sweeney reluctantly did so, just because he knew it helped, even if it was uncomfortable. Anything to make this dreaded process speed along. He continued to drink, one sip at a time, wanting to rip the tube out every time he felt the water go around it in his throat.

“Almost done,” The nurse reassured him, furthering the tube down a bit more.

Sweeney could feel his hands shaking as he held the cup, still drinking the water in it. The nurse’s hand on his forehead just made the whole thing feel that much worse. He was practically trapped. No, not practically, he was trapped. He was trapped and uncomfortable and he was falling apart because of it as the nurse shoved it further and further down his throat.

He could still feel it, and even with the water, it didn’t seem to be going down as easily as it had been before, probably because the nurse had only put lubricant on the first two or three inches but not the rest of it. There was a part of him that wanted to cry, but he would rather choke himself to death with the tube than he would break down even more and cry.

He wasn’t sure how much longer it took because he was just focusing on not breaking down or fighting the nurse and the doctors, but eventually he felt the nurse let go of his head and he vaguely registered her saying she was done. The feeling of the tube in his nose and throat felt choking, like he was suffocating on it.

It made him want to gag, but he was also scared to do so. He took some desperate deep breaths, trying to ignore the feeling of the tube and calm himself, but it only made him further aware of it, unable to even breathe properly with the tube in his throat. He knew most of it was in his head, but it was still bothering him.

Mrs. Lovett gently rubbed his arm. “It’s done now, Darling, you’re fine now. You did so well,” She said comfortingly.

Sweeney disagreed completely. He didn’t think he had done well again. He had fought and gagged and nearly thrown up and he was shaking. He was positive that he was pale as well. He saw that he was shaking on more than just his hands now, he also saw (and felt) his legs shaking. He was shaking completely, his whole body.

He felt that he wanted to throw up with the tube in his throat, but absolutely didn’t want to. He took some more sips of water, hoping it would help the feeling of his churning stomach.

The nurse came over with the syringe and attached it to the port of the tube hanging from Sweeney’s nose, pulling it back a bit.

Sweeney gasped a bit, feeling what she did when he felt something in the tube.

The nurse just nodded and went over to the counter by the sink in the room. She did something that neither Sweeney nor Lovett could see before she turned to them again. “It’s in place, I’m just going to tape in to your cheek now so it doesn’t move, Mr. Todd.”

Sweeney didn’t dare move his head, not wanting to jostle the tube, so he just gave a thumbs up to the nurse, who was coming over to him again. He felt his fight or flight response start to flare up when she came over, but he managed to fight it down, telling himself it was just some tape.

The nurse pulled a few pieces of tape from the room and began to tape it to his cheek. “The hard part is done, Mr. Todd, now you just have to get used to the tube. You stomach might not be ready for the medicine yet, so we’re going to wait for a bit before we administer that.”

“Got it,” Sweeney said, recoiling a bit. Oh he didn’t like that. Talking was uncomfortable now. He couldn’t find a way to even put it into words, he just couldn’t stand it. Not one bit.

“How nauseous are you feeling?” The nurse asked him.

“Very,” He said, keeping his answer short. He gaged at the end, sounding like he started to throw up a bit. But he swallowed thickly, and looked a bit better,

“Do you want some ginger ale maybe?” The nurse asked, knowing that him throwing up would be a terrible situation all around.

He gave a thumbs up, feeling Mrs. Lovett rub his arm again. He wanted to tell her to stop, he had been humiliated enough, but he didn’t care enough to speak up again.

The nurse nodded and left the room to get it.

Lovett looked at Sweeney. He was pale as a ghost and shaking like a leaf in a storm. She could see the nausea in his eyes. He was really a mess… She pitied him and wanted to comfort him more than she was, but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate it. He was very much not a touchy-feely person and the fact he hadn’t shoved her hand away proved how terrible he felt.

The nurse came in. “Any better yet? The nausea will go away pretty quickly usually.” She handed him a can of ginger ale, taking the water he had and putting it down on the counter.

Sweeney shook his head as he took it. Suddenly he jerked forwards, gagging as he heaved, his stomach deciding to revolt when the tube was moved when he shook his head. He felt vomit make its way into his mouth and saw a few drops escape his lips. He heaved again, the sound more wet now.

 Lovett was caught between reaching for him again and leaving him alone.

The nurse dumped out the things in the bin and shoved it in front of Sweeney so he had something to throw up into.

Sweeney clenched his jaw, shaking even more. He took some deep breaths, as slow as he could manage. He was fine, he was fine, he was fine…. “I-I shook my head is all, I’m fine now,” He whispered.

Lovett gently rubbed his shoulder. “You’re okay, Mr. T. Take some breaths, my love.”

The nurse took the ginger ale back, opening it and putting in the straw. “Slow, small sips.”

He took a sip, but only got halfway through swallowing it when he burped as his body tried to bring it back up again, the ginger ale returning to his mouth with an acidic taste. He closed his eyes, taking another sharp breath before he swallowed it down and took some more deep breaths.

“Okay, okay, slow down,” The nurse said. “Let’s try that again later.”  

Sweeney didn’t respond, just sitting there. He wasn’t sure he would be able to hold on to the ginger ale without dropping it, so he held it out to Mrs. Lovett instead, who he felt take it from him. He really hated this situation. He had come completely undone, and yet that wasn’t even his main concern.

The nurse opened the cabinets in the room, rummaging around in them for a minute before she took something out, ripping it open. She handed Sweeney whatever was inside of it. “Here, try smelling this,” She said gently. “It can help.”

Sweeney took whatever it was and held it to his nose, smelling it cautiously, only to be overwhelmed with the smell of alcohol. But he had to admit that it helped a bit. Not enough for him to stop shaking, but it helped. He used his other hand to give a shaky thumbs up to the nurse.

The nurse grabbed more alcohol wipes and put a small pile of them next to Sweeney on the bed in case he needed more when that one ran out of smell. She reached out for the hand that he wasn’t using and tried to grab it. “There’s a pressure point on your wrist that might help,”

Sweeney pulled his hand away so quickly he almost hit Mrs. Lovett in the face. No. He was not doing anything pressure point related. He had found what was helping, no one was just going to start pushing and squishing him as they pleased. He instead held the alcohol wipe closer to his nose.

The nurse pulled her hand away. “Okay, I won’t touch you.”

Lovett watched Sweeney with pity in her eyes. She wanted to rub his back or something, but she also didn’t think she should after seeing how he had reacted to the nurse. Instead, she just watched him. This was am entirely new thing. He was usually so composed, making sure he never showed any weakness. No, scratch that, he never allowed himself any weakness.

But now he was shaking and pale, desperately trying not to throw up all over himself and the hospital bed. If you had tried to describe this scene to her before today she would think you were crazy and she would know you had never met Sweeney before. But yet, it was a real situation and she was in the middle of it right now.

Sweeney reached out with one hand and tried to open another alcohol wipe since this one was getting fainter.

Lovett took it and opened it for him, but before she could even hold it out to him he stole the wipe from it and held it up to his nose in place of the old one, dropping the old one next to him. She reached out and brushed a few strands of his hair off of his forehead.

Sweeney didn’t even argue or fight over the touch, just letting her do it reluctantly. He wasn’t fond of it, but one wrong movement or word and he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from vomiting, so instead he sucked it up. He could still focus on nothing but the tube down his throat, so it wasn’t like Mrs. Lovett’s touch was high on his list of problems.

Lovett knew that his refusal to even acknowledge the touch with an annoyed glance or a glare proved how terrible he felt.

Sweeney didn’t say a word for a few minutes before he finally whispered, “I want this tube out, Eleanor.”

Lovett looked up from her book in surprise when she heard her first name. There was an agreement between them that her first name was only used when absolutely needed or if thing were serious or urgent. She had never been a fan of her first name and it gave Sweeney something to yell for her to know he was more than mad. It was the equivalent of a parent yelling their child’s full name when they had done something wrong. “I know you do, Love,” She said gently, rubbing the top of his hand. “But you can’t take it out.”

“Then get the nurses to.”

“They can’t do that,” Lovett said. “You need it or you’ll never get better. Just try to ignore it.” She knew it wasn’t an easy thing to do. Sweeney was a very attentive person, and that was no doubt working against him right now.

Chapter Text

Shilo walked after GraveRobber, walking in sync with him a few steps behind. After the Genetic Opera they had run into each other again and he had taken her in. As of now they were living in this tiny shack that was pretty much an old shed. It had to be like five hundred square feet at the most and even that was generous. GraveRobber slept on the couch and let her have the bed. He had also started bringing her along on Zydrate runs after she had kept begging.

Which was what they were doing now.

GraveRobber gestured for her to stop. This looked like a fine place. “Let’s get digging,” He said, kneeling down on the ground.

Shilo nodded and knelt next to him. Her hair was starting to grow back and she had a short pixie cut almost. Her hair had turned out to be more of a dark dirty-blonde than black. She kinda liked it. It also made lies about GraveRobber being her father much more believable.

She watched as he started to dig and she followed his lead. It took them ten or so minutes, but eventually they got to the coffin.

 GraveRobber gestured Shilo back as he worked at the coffin, jerking it open. He dug through his bag and grabbed an empty vial and his gun, putting the vial onto the back as he leaned down and smacked the gun into place.

Shilo looked around. That was how it went. Whoever wasn’t extracting played watchdog. And if someone was coming they told so immediately.

After getting six more vials, GraveRobber got up. “That’ll be enough for now, Kid.” When he didn’t get a reply he looked around and found Shilo going after something on a grave with a jar. Gosh, that girl always had to find some sort of interesting bug, didn’t she?

Shilo cupped the bug in the jar with a smile. “Coming!” She turned around and got up, eyes widening slightly when the bright moonlight came between the graves and caught on the jar, glinting brightly. She cursed a bit when she felt the familiar dizziness and a slight headache. Hopefully Graves wouldn’t be too pissed at her…

She saw the distortion in her vision and felt her legs suddenly lose their stability as she fell. Right this was—

When Shilo woke up again, she was still slightly dazed and confused. She had been relocated to behind the cover of a monument in the graveyard and GraveRobber was leaning over her, shaking her and continuously saying something she was still a bit too out of it to hear. Luckily, that part  never lasted that long.

“Kid? Shilo. Shilo! Can you understand me?” GraveRobber asked.

Shilo nodded. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t try to drop on you like that.” She started to push herself up and felt the firm grip of GraveRobber help pull her up and shift her so she was leaning against the monument.

“Don’t apologize. Does your head hurt?” He asked, looking at her. He didn’t see any blood or cuts… He took a vial of Zydrate out from his belt and held it up, using the glow to illuminate her eyes. Her pupils looked the same and normal size, which likely meant no concussion, but he would still have to watch her. He didn’t have enough doctor, so he was praying she ended up okay, because one of the back-alley doctors wouldn’t cut it when it came to her.

“Not really.”

“Not really or no?”

“No.”

GraveRobber nodded a bit. “What happened, I didn’t see. I just saw you suddenly drop to the ground.”

“Oh, the light from the moon was too bright and between the way it shone through the graves and caught on the lid to the jar, it made me collapse.”

GraveRobber stared. “…That doesn’t make sense.”

“Oh, like, how some lights make you pass out, it was just that.”

“…Lights don’t make people pass out, Kid. Has this happened before?”

“Yeah, but only when the lights are bright and sudden, or flashing, or something like that. I mean, bright lights can give me a headache, but that’s normal and doesn’t cause passing out.”

“Okay, sometimes, lights will give you headaches, but no, lights don’t cause people to pass out, no matter how bright or sudden they are. This sounds like you’re having seizures, Shilo.”

Shilo immediately shook her head. “No, I don’t shake or anything, I just kinda pass out for a bit.

“Seizures aren’t just grand mal seizures—”

“What?”

GraveRobber sighed. How did he know more about this than she did? Obviously she hadn’t ever suspected the fact that she might be having seizures, but still, most people knew the basics. “What you just said, dropping and shaking, it’s a grand mal seizure, a tonic-clonic seizure. Either of those terms sound familiar?”

Shilo shook her head. “Seizure sounds familiar.”

GraveRobber handed her his bag. “Put this over your shoulders, let’s get back home.”

Shilo took it and did as instructed, yelping as Graves suddenly pulled her arms around his neck and pulled her onto his back, grabbing under her legs.

“I’m carrying you so you don’t collapse on me.”

“Oh… Thanks, but I can do it myself.”

“No, I’m carrying you.”

Shilo just smiled a bit.

GraveRobber carried her out of the graveyard before he continued to talk to her about seizures. “Back to what I was saying, there’s more than one type of seizures. Do you ever find yourself inexplicably jerking? Like shoulders or arms? Legs? Head? Anything?”

“Uh… sometimes, but not much. I think it’s just a random twitch I get sometimes.”

“That… or it could be a seizure. Ever find yourself seemingly skipping forward in time or missing chunks of time?”

“Yeah.”

“Absence seizures. You’re epileptic, Shilo. So, tell me something, Kid. How did you live to seventeen with someone like your dad and never knew you had epilepsy? You think your dad would notice you randomly passing out.”

“Well, he always kept the lights super dim, even at night, so I didn’t really have any of those episodes… Seizures?”

“Most likely seizures, yes, but if episodes feels more naturally then go ahead, I don’t care what you call them.”

“But because of that medicine he had me on I passed out sometimes anyways. He would probably write it off as that. Besides, he wasn’t home enough to tell.”

GraveRobber scoffed. If he had a daughter (which he pretty much did now) he would absolutely notice if she was randomly passing out or jerking around. The absence seizures were easier to miss, but after someone had a couple you should get suspicious.

“…How do you know so much about seizures?” Shilo asked. She liked GraveRobber, but he wasn’t the most knowledgeable with things, so it was a bit surprising.

“I know a lot about health,” GraveRobber said simply. “When you live a life like mine you need to. And I got wrapped up in it and in the process ended up finding out there was more than one type of seizure, which led me to learning even more about them.”

“…So you really think I’m having seizures?”

“Kid, I am very close to positive.”

“…Does this mean I can’t go out with you anymore?”

“Did I say that? No, I said you have epilepsy.”

“But what if I pass out on you again?”

“Then at least I won’t worry about you running off,” GraveRobber said simply as he sidestepped an alcohol bottle on the ground. “From now on, tell me if you have a seizure, because if this is something severe then we’ll start changing around the way things go and work.”

Shilo frowned a bit, he was starting to remind her of her dad… but unlike her dad, he wasn’t telling her that she couldn’t live normally anymore.

“I can feel you pouting. I mean it. This can be dangerous.”

“Fine.”

“And if we can get enough money I want to try and find you a doctor. A good one, if those still exist.”

“Why?”

“Because we can get you medication so things are more controlled.”

“No. I am not going back on any medication,” Shilo immediately said.

GraveRobber sighed, he understood why, but he also knew that this was much different. “I get that, but this is necessary medicine that would actually help.”

“I’ve gotten this far without it.”

“Not healthily.”

Shilo huffed.

“Look, just consider it, Kid. I don’t even know if we could get it. We have to steal half of our food and live of oatmeal. Drugs are our income source. Medicine and doctors are expensive.”

“Fine, I’ll think about it,” Shilo grumbled reluctantly.

“Thank you.”

“And thank you for not leaving me when I passed out back there.”

“I’ll never leave you, Kid,” GraveRobber said. “You’re stuck with me now.”

Shilo chuckled and smiled, setting her head down on GraveRobber’s shoulder. That sounded nice.