Chapter Text
Two paced around the kitchen, body bathed in a green light as their powers worked overtime. Even with infinite power, it was still hard to create food, especially food that was cooked properly and tasted like food instead of chalk. It was much easier to summon the ingredients from somewhere, then cook the food themself.
The timer went off with a ding.
Two opened the oven door with a flick of their wrist. The light from their power flickered and dimmed for a moment, but Two didn’t have the time to worry over their power growing weaker. Their thoughts were only on their contestants. Thanks to everything that had happened recently, Two was one of the only ones able to work in the hotel, and it wasn’t like they were willing to put Grassy or Rocky to work in the kitchen.
Two placed the chicken on the countertop, then turned off the stove to stop the broth from overboiling. There wasn’t much, especially considering how many contestants they had to feed, but it wasn’t like much was being eaten anyway. The sickness seemed to have ruined everyone's appetite, and Two didn’t want to overwhelm the contestants by giving them too much food. As they started to pull apart the chicken and prepare the other ingredients with their powers, they wondered absentmindedly if the contestants were getting annoyed of four straight days of chicken soup. Two refused to try another recipe- they’d read that chicken soup was good for helping with sickness, and what kind of host would they be if they didn't do everything in their power to help their contestants?
They carved the chickens carefully, hoping they would be finished in time for lunchtime. It had taken hours, even with their limited abilities- all morning in fact, to make enough soup for forty-two people, but Two was determined. They were a host now, it was their job to take care of their contestants the best they could.
It was oddly quiet as they traversed through the empty halls of the hotel. Most of the contestants were isolating, trying to sleep off the worst effects of the sickness in their rooms. Even those that weren’t sick were busy The sickness had been odd, unlike anything Two had seen before- algebraliens got sick, but not like this, not with nearly everyone coming down with a sickness that had them bedridden. Everyone had gotten the exact same symptoms at the exact same time, with not even a day passing before everyone had gotten sick.
At first, Two had assumed it was something only objects could come down with, considering they and Yellow Face were both fine. But then Grassy and Rocky had been unaffected, while the robotic objects were faced with a much milder variant, and Two couldn't figure out why the robots were affected at all, or why only the adult objects were sick- none of it made any sense. But Two didn’t know anything about illnesses, or how to treat it or help or anything, so they were stuck giving their contestants soup and hoping it made things better. They didn’t understand what had happened, even days later. One moment, all of their contestants were fine, going about their lives as usual. Every day Two held onto hope that things would magically get better in the same way they’d gotten so bad- but their hopes were always in vain. At least none of the infected had died yet, they mused. Objects hadn’t needed to evolve a strong immune system thanks to the invention of recovery centres, so the fact that nobody had died meant that this wasn’t extremely harmful. Still, that begged the question of why things had gotten so bad if the virus wasn’t serious.
Two emerged from the elevator onto the second floor to find a ghost town. Usually some contestants would be lingering in the hall, chatting or idling around, but today it was silent, barren.
They wheeled their cart up to the first door, knocked thrice, and left a bowl of soup at the door. They repeated until the tray was empty, never getting a glance at any of their contestants. At most, a muffled ‘thanks’ or some other weak form of acknowledgement came from behind the door, but nobody actually came out. It worried Two that they couldn’t see any of their contestants, but they didn’t want to invade their privacy by checking in on them.
Mostly, the only response they received was silence.
They repeated their pattern on the third floor, the fourth, and finally the fifth, until they were satisfied all the contestants were fed. With their most important task out of the way, they finally allowed themself a break.
Part of Two wished they had someone to help them, but out of all the others that hadn’t been made bed bound by the illness, none of them were able to help Two. Yellow Face had run off immediately, shouting something about how ‘this will be great for a new line of cleaning products!’. Robot Flower had shut herself up in her shop, refusing to talk to Two unless they promised to buy something. Remote seemed very concerned about the wellness of her fellow P.A.C.T members, constantly flitting between their rooms to make sure none of them were dying from illness. Grassy and Rocky were too young for them to even consider asking them for help. TV had decided it was his job to distract the duo from these circumstances, and spent the days playing tag or hide-and-seek with them in the hotel lobby.
On the fourth day of the sickness, Two woke up feeling… off. Their body felt too hot, their limbs were heavy, and they had an odd cramp in their lower abdomen. They shot out of bed with a gasp- this couldn’t be- it wasn’t- how could they contract the same sickness as the others? Why had it taken so long to take effect? Two stood still, mentally checking themself over. With a deep breath, they forced themself to try and be calm and rational about this. With a clearer mind, they decided that the pain in their abdomen was bearable, their fever was barely noticeable. It seemed they’d caught a much milder version of whatever the contestants had.
Of course they were glad that their symptoms were mild, but this didn’t make sense- algebraliens weren’t supposed to get the same illnesses as objects. The fact that they’d gotten sick at all was worrying. The illness was making them tired, and Two desperately wanted to lay down again and go back to sleep, but they knew they had a duty as host to help their contestants. They slowly forced themself to stand, legs shaking slightly. They had another busy day of chores to prepare for, after all.
As it turned out, it wasn’t that easy to ignore the effects of the illness. Their body seemed to lurch with every step they took, vision flickering at the edges. When they tried to teleport to the kitchen, they were hit with a wave of nausea so strong that they were forced to stop, shaking hands gripping the wall for support.
Maybe they hadn’t caught a weaker version. But how, and why now, when everyone else had gotten sick at the exact same time? Two hadn’t interacted with any of the infected contestants, and they’d taken care to ensure the hotel was clean.
Unless one of the robotic contestants had managed to pass it on? But it wasn’t as if Two had been spending an excessive amount of time with any of them either. Regardless of how they’d caught the virus, it was definitely making itself known now. It felt awful, causing a dull ache across their body and a fever that had them sticky with sweat.
Two hesitated before stumbling back to their bed. They would still do their best to take care of their contestants, just as soon as they started feeling better.