Bakery smells

[Crow]

Crow sat up against the wall, eyes closed, trying to think despite the migraine threatening to override her awareness. Tysk’s thoughts continued to bleed into her own, and she wasn’t sure if her confusion and anger were coming from him. Or, worse, if she was projecting them onto the poor dog. Crow could feel him moving away, and caught a flash of herself through his vision. Her vertigo returned suddenly and she considered sitting down, before remembering she was sitting down. She was a father. What the flying fuck.

What was she even supposed to do with a kid? Ignoring him entirely was probably the easiest option, but...she wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. She was responsible for him. Whatever he was. If Fury knew that they were related, then using Tysk against him wouldn’t work well. Hell, Fury would probably use him against her, if he knew. But any sign that she actually cared about Tysk—like making sure he was far away from SHIELD—would just make the boy more of a target. Even if no one realized he was anything more than a pet, her enemies would still be more than willing to use him against her. Getting attached would be a weakness. If there was a good option here, Crow couldn’t find it.

She needed time to think. And space. The further away from Tysk, the better. Only way she was going to figure out what to do. Crow began to push back to her feet, only for her stomach to remind her that moving wasn’t going to happen. She heaved, spewing bile and bits of Danish over the pavement in front of her. Ugh. Not even bothering to wipe her mouth, Crow sat back down abruptly. Looked like she would be stuck here for a little while. She stared at Tysk blearily, too tired to think about solutions to her problem. Yeah. She was screwed.

[Tysk]

She really didn't look so good. Tysk could hear her insides teaming up against her in the way his did when he was sick. With that in mind, Tysk made sure to be ready to move out of the way in case she started throwing up. As it happened, when Crow tried to stand again, she did throw up; and on the opposite side that he was on. His nostrils flared as he breathed in the new scent, but it was less than appealing. Bile by itself wasn't very nice, and there wasn't enough of the pastry in it to make it worthwhile.

When she sat down, Tysk pushed his face into hers, sniffing at her and listening to her to see if she was alright. At least she was aware that he was still there, that was a good thing, right? He licked out at her face as a sign of empathy and whined lightly. Sick alphas were never a good thing. But Crow was a female alpha, what if she was having a pup like other human females did. Then she would have to eat. Tysk picked up the box of remaining pastries and put it in her lap. As hungry as he was right now, he could easily pick off the bad cuts at a butchers later. He knew of one close by that hadn't tried to kick him yet.

[Crow]

Tysk was obviously worried about her, but Crow couldn’t really concentrate enough to send him any mental reassurances. She would be fine, she just needed to…pass out for a while. This wasn’t really an ideal place, but moving wasn’t really an option at this point. Crow didn’t even bother to move her face out of the way when Tysk licked her, although she did make a face. Gross. They were related. She was still picking up a steady stream of thoughts from him, and his current reasoning was entertaining, if somewhat painful. Crow was, at least, pretty sure that she couldn’t get pregnant. If she could, it would have happened already. Probably several times. She had kind of assumed that she couldn’t knock anything else up, either, but…that seemed to be wrong.

The boy dropped the bakery box in to her lap, and Crow managed a faint smile. Sweet of him. “Good boy,” she murmured quietly, closing her eyes again. Crow pushed the box out of her lap, and it flipped sideways as it landed on the pavement. The remaining pastries spilled out. She opened her eyes for a second, stared at the mess, and closed them again. Eh. At least they hadn’t landed in the vomit. Tysk was a dog; he’d still eat them. To be fair, she would have eaten them like that too, if she had any desire for solid food. As it was, she kind of thought she was going to—ah, yup. There was the dry heaving.

[Tysk]

Good boy, he knew those words. Unconsciously, he shuffled in his seat at what was, in his mind, a good thing. But Crow pushed the box out of her lap and the pastries tumbled onto the pavement. So she wasn't pregnant sick then. Just sick sick. Which meant that something was wrong. Was she dying? Oh no, what if she was? She was an Alpha, so he wanted to protect her, but if she was going to die, then there was probably nothing he could do for her except wait until she'd found a tree to curl up under. Tysk breathed out heavily a few times before finally producing a light whine. His forehead crinkled slightly with worry. Would he have to take over her pack if she died?

Tysk tried to find something to say to Crow in the language she kept speaking, but most of it was related to food, or compliments, or telling him to go to bed. The last one he thought about the most. Whenever he was sick, he went to sleep and then woke up feeling better. "Wuk?" Tysk wasn't sure if that was how it was said, he never verbalized it before, but it sounded right to him, and he was sure if Crow could see in his head that the image of people with leashes would show her what he meant. Would that even help her though? She seemed pretty intent on wanting to throw up.

[Crow]

Eventually the dry heaving stopped, and Crow shakily moved from sitting into the fetal position. That was better. Keeping her head up was starting to be too much work, and the cool pavement felt nice. She could still pick up on Tysk's worry, though. She didn't like it. It made her worry, which was stupid, because there was absolutely no reason for her to do so. Well...other than finding out she was apparently a deadbeat dad. Other than killing him, though, there wasn't anything she could do about it. “ 'M fine,” she mumbled back at Tysk, even though she was pretty sure he wouldn't understand what she was saying. Those weren't words she'd taught him yet. Maybe she'd get lucky, or maybe he'd figure it out on her own. He better not think he was going to be Alpha soon; this was a temporary condition.

Tysk actually tried to speak, and Crow opened her eyes to look at him. What was he...? The mental pictures cleared things up, as painful as they were. Oh. A walk. Hah, screw that. She shook her head, deciding it would hurt less than talking, and realized that it made her vision go white for a few seconds. Ugh. Being conscious was pretty much the worst. Reaching up, Crow ran her hand through Tysk's hair. The worrying was sweet, even if she was pretty damn sure that a walk would kill her right now. Crow closed her eyes and let her hand drop. She barely noticed that it landed in her vomit.

[Tysk]

Crow was getting worse, as soon as she had stopped heaving, she curled up into a ball on the pavement. Tysk could still hear her heart beating solidly though, so he knew she wasn't dying just yet. She spoke, too, so that was a good sign. People didn't speak if they were dying. Usually they just gurgled and bled everywhere. When he spoke, Crow looked up at him, but shook her head. No walks then. That actually upset him a little, but in the current situation, not as much as it would have normally. At least she was petting him though. As soon as Crow's hand had reached through his hair once, he was back in his regular shape as a very large german shepherd.

The petting didn't last long and Tysk watched her hand as it fell into her vomit. That wasn't just weird. Tysk stood up and grabbed the material around her wrist so he could lift it up and drop it back on herself. He sat down for a moment and whined lightly. Well, if she wasn't going to move, then he would just have to sit down with her until she got better. He took the side that didn't have pastry and vomit on it and laid down, resting his head on her lap. It was also the side that looked back onto the street, if anyone came in, Tysk would see it.

(End)