Sicktember 2024 Day 30
Sep. 30th, 2024 05:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mrsluigivargasWaking Up
Luigi almost missed the moment when Mario’s fingers twitched.
Fandom: Super Mario
Rating: General Audiences
Characters: Mario, Luigi
Relationships: Mario & Luigi
Additional Tags: Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort
Length: 500 words
Sicktember Prompts: 30. Past Prompt of Your Choice - Confused/Disoriented [2023], Alt. 1. Hospital Bed
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This fic exists because I couldn't stop thinking about the idea of Mario waking up from some sickness or coma or whatever, and the first thing he’s concerned about is not his own wellbeing or circumstances, but that his brother went so long without shaving or brushing his hair and how fucking weird and uncharacteristic that is. Eventually what that lack of personal grooming implies about Luigi’s mental health state pushes its way to the forefront of Mario’s mind, but initially it’s just “???????” for a solid couple of minutes, at least.
I was envisioning Mario having gotten hit by a curse or something that rendered him unconscious. Actually, I was thinking of it like a Princess Peach game; Mario goes down, and Peach is the one going out and getting what they need to wake him up. The castle would be the hubworld, and when you returned after every level or every world you could find Luigi in various parts of the castle; near the beginning of the adventure he’s almost exclusively by Mario’s bedside, later on he’s in the castle library gathering intel to figure out where Peach needs to go next, and later still he alternates between the previous two locations or wandering the halls or standing outside in the gardens a little more relaxed and confident that they’ll wake Mario up soon. Maybe he even joins Peach in the final boss battle, if there is one.
Luigi almost missed the moment when Mario’s fingers twitched.
Fandom: Super Mario
Rating: General Audiences
Characters: Mario, Luigi
Relationships: Mario & Luigi
Additional Tags: Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort
Length: 500 words
Sicktember Prompts: 30. Past Prompt of Your Choice - Confused/Disoriented [2023], Alt. 1. Hospital Bed
~~~
Luigi almost missed the moment when Mario’s fingers twitched.
Visiting hours had long since passed; ever since Mario had gotten sick enough to be admitted to the hospital Luigi had spent every second he could by his brother’s side, and the nurses had eventually taken pity on him and allowed him to stay as long as he wasn’t a disturbance. And this late at night, Luigi could hardly even think of being a disturbance, with the ticking of the clock and the humming and beeping of medical machinery unwittingly lulling him into a doze.
But still, it was impossible to bear sitting next to Mario without loosely lacing their hands together, so when Mario’s moved Luigi snapped awake. For a moment, he’d thought he’d imagined it, until Mario’s hand twitched again. His breath caught in his throat as he watched Mario shift and fidget — his hands curling; his chest’s rhythm stuttering; his nose scrunching up; his eyes opening for the first time in days.
“Mario?” Luigi whispered, voice shaking. His grip on Mario’s hand tightened, and Mario weakly squeezed it back. He turned his head towards Luigi, eyes unfocused, and upon seeing him, he tried to push himself upright.
“Woah, wait —!” Luigi caught Mario as his arm gave out from under him. Mario’s eyes stayed locked onto his brother even as he fell, and Luigi scrambled for something he could say without bursting into tears in the middle of forming the words. “Hi,” he settled on, his eyes watering nonetheless.
Yet the longer Mario stared at him, the more severe the frown on Mario’s face grew. Luigi frowned, too. Was something wrong? Should he call a nurse?
Luigi reached over to press the button to call the nurse. As he leaned over Mario, Mario raised a hand, the one Luigi wasn't holding, to brush it against Luigi’s face. Not at the tears threatening to fall, but at Luigi’s mustache, the unkempt, disheveled clump of hair it had turned into after countless worry-filled days and sleepless nights, after seemingly endless achingly lonely mornings and afternoons spent trying not to fall apart and evenings more often than not failing to pull himself together.
Mario tugged at the tangles under Luigi’s nose, squinting at the split ends. As he ran out of strength and his hand fell it brushed against Luigi’s chin, and it felt mean but Luigi couldn't help but laugh at Mario’s genuine distress at its rough texture. Or was he crying? He couldn't tell.
“If you think I look like a mess, then we should get you a mirror,” Luigi managed to say despite being thoroughly choked up.
Mario’s lips tilted into the faintest of smiles, and finally the tears rolled down Luigi’s cheeks. He bent down to press his head against Mario’s, shoulders shaking. Though he’d have to move soon for the nurse to check on Mario, that was a future-him problem. For now, he was just going to enjoy the feeling of Mario’s fingers settling in his hair.
Visiting hours had long since passed; ever since Mario had gotten sick enough to be admitted to the hospital Luigi had spent every second he could by his brother’s side, and the nurses had eventually taken pity on him and allowed him to stay as long as he wasn’t a disturbance. And this late at night, Luigi could hardly even think of being a disturbance, with the ticking of the clock and the humming and beeping of medical machinery unwittingly lulling him into a doze.
But still, it was impossible to bear sitting next to Mario without loosely lacing their hands together, so when Mario’s moved Luigi snapped awake. For a moment, he’d thought he’d imagined it, until Mario’s hand twitched again. His breath caught in his throat as he watched Mario shift and fidget — his hands curling; his chest’s rhythm stuttering; his nose scrunching up; his eyes opening for the first time in days.
“Mario?” Luigi whispered, voice shaking. His grip on Mario’s hand tightened, and Mario weakly squeezed it back. He turned his head towards Luigi, eyes unfocused, and upon seeing him, he tried to push himself upright.
“Woah, wait —!” Luigi caught Mario as his arm gave out from under him. Mario’s eyes stayed locked onto his brother even as he fell, and Luigi scrambled for something he could say without bursting into tears in the middle of forming the words. “Hi,” he settled on, his eyes watering nonetheless.
Yet the longer Mario stared at him, the more severe the frown on Mario’s face grew. Luigi frowned, too. Was something wrong? Should he call a nurse?
Luigi reached over to press the button to call the nurse. As he leaned over Mario, Mario raised a hand, the one Luigi wasn't holding, to brush it against Luigi’s face. Not at the tears threatening to fall, but at Luigi’s mustache, the unkempt, disheveled clump of hair it had turned into after countless worry-filled days and sleepless nights, after seemingly endless achingly lonely mornings and afternoons spent trying not to fall apart and evenings more often than not failing to pull himself together.
Mario tugged at the tangles under Luigi’s nose, squinting at the split ends. As he ran out of strength and his hand fell it brushed against Luigi’s chin, and it felt mean but Luigi couldn't help but laugh at Mario’s genuine distress at its rough texture. Or was he crying? He couldn't tell.
“If you think I look like a mess, then we should get you a mirror,” Luigi managed to say despite being thoroughly choked up.
Mario’s lips tilted into the faintest of smiles, and finally the tears rolled down Luigi’s cheeks. He bent down to press his head against Mario’s, shoulders shaking. Though he’d have to move soon for the nurse to check on Mario, that was a future-him problem. For now, he was just going to enjoy the feeling of Mario’s fingers settling in his hair.
~~~
This fic exists because I couldn't stop thinking about the idea of Mario waking up from some sickness or coma or whatever, and the first thing he’s concerned about is not his own wellbeing or circumstances, but that his brother went so long without shaving or brushing his hair and how fucking weird and uncharacteristic that is. Eventually what that lack of personal grooming implies about Luigi’s mental health state pushes its way to the forefront of Mario’s mind, but initially it’s just “???????” for a solid couple of minutes, at least.
I was envisioning Mario having gotten hit by a curse or something that rendered him unconscious. Actually, I was thinking of it like a Princess Peach game; Mario goes down, and Peach is the one going out and getting what they need to wake him up. The castle would be the hubworld, and when you returned after every level or every world you could find Luigi in various parts of the castle; near the beginning of the adventure he’s almost exclusively by Mario’s bedside, later on he’s in the castle library gathering intel to figure out where Peach needs to go next, and later still he alternates between the previous two locations or wandering the halls or standing outside in the gardens a little more relaxed and confident that they’ll wake Mario up soon. Maybe he even joins Peach in the final boss battle, if there is one.