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Sally giggled as she watched Wilbur bounce in place next to her, one hand wrapped around her forearm.
“C'mon hurry! It's going to leave!” He said, tugging at her a bit towards the music of the ice cream truck.
“Calm down,” she giggled, speeding up just a bit, “I'm surprised it's even out here in this weather.”
It was very cloudy, not raining just yet but the dewy smell indicated it would later that day. Sally enjoyed the humidity the weather gave off, it felt nice against her gills, and it was perfect weather for Wilbur to walk in.
They soon arrived at the truck, standing behind a few kids ordering with one of their parents' credit cards.
“Do they have the blue, white, and red ones?” Wilbur asked, leaning forward like he would actually be able to read the menu.
“Yes, stop leaning forward,” Sally pulled him back, “There are actual kids in front of us. Not just brunette adults acting like kids.”
“It's called unleashing my inner child , you should try it.”
“Then who would be responsible?” Sally jabbed, trying to decide between strawberry or watermelon.
“Hey! I am plenty responsible!”
“If you say soooo…” Sally said, deciding on strawberry. She looked up at Wilbur, smiling at the way the grey atmosphere complimented his coffee-brown eyes.
She was smitten, it was true. She hated to admit it, but the blind theatre nerd people made fun of in high school had stolen her goddamn heart.
And he wouldn't fucking give it back.
Soon she was pulling Wilbur to the counter, smiling up at the piglin hybrid running it.
“What can I get for you two?” She said, leaning on the metal counter.
“I'll have a str-” Sally started, only to be cut off by a harsh cough racking through her body.
She distantly heard Wilbur order for her, and if she wasn't keeled over on her coughing fit she would've smiled at the way he knew exactly what she was going to say.
Her once-soothed gills stung with something jagged, and she cleared her throat a few times to try and get rid of the feeling. It only worked slightly.
Wilbur had pulled them to the side of the truck, having two popsicles and holding one out to her, worry plastered on his face.
“You alright?” He asked, a hand on her arm like it would stabilize her.
“Yeah, I don't know what that was about. Let's get going.”
And they were off.
-=+=-
Sally felt like shit.
It had only been a few days since the coughing fit at the truck, and yet the sting from her gills never subsided, and coughing fits became more frequent.
She could tell Wilbur was getting worried. It was in the way he did everything he could for her. Brought her soup, asked how she was doing twice every hour, and stayed by her side until something needed to get done.
She loved him. And she made it known. Wilbur smiled every time, something giddy in it.
Sally had a hard time with emotions. Her parents weren't all emotionally there, she never had a ton of friends outside of high school, and, being the oldest in her very big family, there was no one there for her most of the time.
Now Wilbur was there for her, and the first time she said I love you , a year ago, it had been the first step towards healing.
Sally found herself wanting to say it over and over in the state, she found herself wanting to scream it to the world with her raspy voice.
“Wilbur,” She said, nuzzling in his stomach where he sat beside her on his phone, mindlessly playing with her hair.
“Yes?”
“Invite someone over. I’m bored.” She said, letting her eyes close as she wrapped her arms around him.
Wilbur huffed, scratching at her scalp, and only after a few moments, and text-to-speech commands, did he bring the phone to his ear.
“Hey, Dad.
Yeah.
She wants you and Tech over, she’s bored ,” He mocked, earning a weak slap to the arm in response.
There was a chuckle over the phone before Wilbur hung up, sighing contently and sinking into bed.
“If you don’t get better soon…” he stared, staring forward.
“Wilbur…” Sally warned.
“I worry about you, Fire.”
“I’ll be fine.” Sally said, “I probably picked it up at work, you know kids don’t wash their hands.”
Wilbur just hummed.
They got up soon after, Sally trying to ignore how every muscle in her body seemed to ache with every sudden movement she made, how it was harder to stand than it had been a few days ago.
She felt weak .
She hated feeling weak.
Sally was supposed to be strong . She needed to be strong for those around her. She spent her childhood taking care of her siblings, spent high school looking out for the bullied (how she met Wilbur,) and spent these days being there for the phantom hybrid, whenever he needed.
What would she do if she couldn’t do that?
The merling had another coughing fit in the bathroom, trying to muffle them as she heard Wilbur prepare something outside.
Getting a peak at her reflection, dread pooled in her gut.
Her eyes held heavy eye bags, stark against her unusually pale skin. Her usually emerald green eyes were more of a sage, and the freckles that were painted across her cheeks looked out of place.
She took her hair out of the ponytail it had been in, now knotted and messy with how Wilbur played with it, and with the slight tug of her hair tie the strands fell down to her shoulders.
She ran her fingers through the bright red strands, trying to ignore how the grease made her skin feel, but as she pulled at a knotted strand it just-
Came out.
A chunk of hair, with a simple tug, now sat in her hand.
Not good.
Sally tried to chalk it up to not brushing her hair for a few days, and quickly hopped in the shower.
She tried to ignore the clump of hair she had to pull out of the drain at the end of it, and how her hair seemed thinner than it was before.
She tied it into a messy bun that sat on top of her head and headed out of the bathroom.
“Wil?” She called, ignoring the way her voice wobbled.
“Down here!”
Sally walked down the stairs, hiding how heavily she relied on the rail to hold her weight, and stood at the bottom catching her breath.
This wasn’t good.
She was supposed to be strong.
She was going to be strong.
After the world stopped spinning, the merling made her way into the living room, finding Techno sitting on his signature chair, Phil on the couch and Wilbur on the other side.
“Hullo,” Techno said, not looking up from the book he was reading.
“Hi Sally! How are-” Phil started, only to stop as he looked at Sally.
“Damn, Phil, I didn’t know I could be breathtaking while sick.” She joked, but no one laughed.
Wilbur was looking in his father's direction with confusion, and something akin to worry. Techno had looked up, that same worry sitting in his brow, and Phil looked almost shocked.
“Sally-” Phil started, and Sally groaned as she leaned onto the wall.
“I swear, all of you worry too much. I’m fine ,” She lied, hiding how the wall relieved the shake that threatened to take over her legs.
“What? What’s wrong?” Wilbur ignored her, directing the question to his father. If Sally were up to it, she would have punched him for even considering ignoring her.
“You’re so pale-” He started again, but before he could continue Sally felt lightheaded, stumbling where she stood.
“Goddammit,” She whispered, stabilizing herself on the wall before finding she didn’t need to, as Techno held her up.
“We have t’ go t’ the hospital.” Was all he said before picking Sally up bridal-style.
“Woah- no , no , no -” She stared, but was promptly ignored by all three of the people surrounding her. “It’s just a cold- really-”
“Fire,” Wilbur said, trailing to the side of Techno and cupping Sally’s face, “Just let us help, please,” He begged, eyes filled with some deeper emotion Sally couldn’t decipher.
There was a beat of silence, before-
“....Fine. But when it all proves to be nothing, I get bragging rights.”
She then promptly fell into a coughing fit as she was placed in the back of a car, head lying on Wilbur’s lap.
-=+=-
Everything was, apparently, not fine.
“I’m what?” Sally rasped, eyes blurring as the reality of what the doctor had just said hit her.
She was alone in the room, she specifically requested it because-
Because she was supposed to be strong.
“In other words,” The doctor said, a sad look plastered on his face, “You’re rotting.”
“How- How is that even possible? Is my blood not flowing right? Is- is it a disease of some kind?”
The doctor only looked more sad at that, pulling a rolling chair over to her bedside and placing the clipboard he was previously writing on down.
“It’s a disease very few have, yes. You can only get it through specific genetic traits, and it has an under one percent chance of happening.”
“What- What genetics?”
“Well, you have to be descended from Salmon-type merlings who have the disease, which only five percent do, and even then the trait is recessive, so that means both of your parents have the gene for the disease.” The doctor spoke solemnly, offering any explanation they could give.
Sally felt a tear drip down her face, and when she pulled her hand back from wiping it away, she discovered it was a deep red color.
“How-” Her voice cracked as she stared at the red dot, “How do you stop it?”
The doctor's look was pitying, and suddenly fueled with some sort of anger, Sally wanted to punch it right off of them.
“There’s no known cure.”
Sally cried. She tried to muffle it, tried to stop it, but nothing could. She cried.
The doctor stood there the whole time, ready to offer any comfort Sally asked of him, but instead, Sally just looked up, taking a few deep breaths.
“I-” She started.
“Don’t tell them what’s happening to me.” She said, sitting up and wincing at the way her arms wanted to collapse below her. The doctor helped her up the rest of the way.
“What?” Was all he said.
“Don’t- tell them you can’t say. Patient confidentiality right? You can’t tell them if I don’t want you to?”
The doctor sputtered, entirely confused by the request, before nodding and walking out.
Wilbur quickly spilled into the room, immediately taking Sally’s hand.
“What’d Doctor Ponk say?” He asked, rubbing circles into the unfilled skin.
“They said they didn’t know what it was, that they’d keep trying to figure it out.”
Wilbur nodded, sitting in a chair and scooting it over.
Sally sat, staring into the distance as Wilbur talked absentmindedly about something next to her.
There was no cure.
-=+=-
“Tech,” Sally whispered, voice hoarse with the coughing fit she’d pulled herself out of. Wilbur went to grab a yogurt from the cafeteria, leaving her alone with his brother.
“Hm?” Techno said, looking up from his book.
“I’m going to die here.” She said simply. It was a fact she went over at night, a fact she cried all the tears she could about, a fact she needed to share.
“What?” Techno said, sitting straighter.
Sally didn’t want to tell him specifics. She didn’t want to put that weight on his shoulders. It wasn’t what he deserved.
“I just- I can feel it.” Her hand trembled as she raised it to her heart.
“Don’t talk like that,” Techno spoke, leaning forward in his chair.
“But it’s true,” she smiled, she just needed Techno to understand. “I need you to promise me you’ll be there for Wilbur when I’m not. Promise me you’ll get him whatever help he needs to get through this.”
“You aren’t goin’ t’ die, Sally-”
“Promise me, Techno.” She begged, a single tear slipping down her face.
“...I promise.”
-=+=-
Sally’s appearance had changed, she could tell.
One of the most obvious to her was her teeth, which seemed to get sharper, yet more fragile. Another one, one she heard Phil say in passing when they thought she was asleep, was that her eyes seemed clouded over.
She felt less like eating, too. Denying as many meals as she could before someone said something.
And the last, most noticeable, was that her skin was slowly but surely gaining a greenish-yellow tint to it.
She knew her time was coming soon. She wished she could have stayed. Stayed long enough to watch the kids at her daycare grow into kindergarten, long enough to see Techno graduate college.
Long enough for Wilbur to propose.
Long enough to get married.
It was a shame. She had liked the boy, she would miss him.
She could only hope for someone new to enter his life. Someone who lit it up the same way he swore she did. Someone with a spark hot enough that it could wash the cold exterior he presented away.
Maybe she could send someone to him, somewhere in the afterlife.
That would be nice.
-=+=-
Wilbur grabbed tightly onto his father's sleeve as he was dragged around the hospital towards Sally’s hospital room.
He had just gone home for a few hours, to bring some proper fuel to his flame, when they got a call that she wasn’t doing well.
“Hey, Wil,” She whispered from the hospital bed, Wilbur immediately searching for, and grabbing, her hand.
“Hey, Fire.” Wilbur said, failing to hold the tears that fell down his cheeks.
“I’m tired, Wil.” She said, leaning forward like she wanted to grab at him. Wilbur followed, placing a hand on her cheek.
“I know, love.” He said, tears falling faster.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be stronger.”
“No,” Wilbur immediately denied, wiping a tear away with his thumb, “You don’t need to be strong anymore. Let me take care of you.”
“Will you miss me?” She asked.
Wilbur reeled at the change of topic.
“I don’t want to lose you, Sal.” He broke, leaning forward and placing their foreheads together. Wilbur knew that they had matching eyes now.
“Somewhere,” Sally started, lifting a shaking hand towards his curls, “Somewhere, a window will open, and the sun will poke through again.”
“
You're
my sun. Please don’t leave me with the rain.”
“You're mistaken, love.” Sally said, petting his hair, “I’m your fire. And sometimes, fires go out.”
“No,” Wilbur whispered.
“But the sun? The sun will stay. I know it.”
“Please don’t go.”
“I’m sorry, dew.”
That night, a fire was put out, and a door was closed, pulling a blind man into the darkness that consumed his vision.
And somewhere in the world, a window opened, and the sun poked through.