Transferring sickness
The duration of illness in reapers is contingent upon the specific ailment they are afflicted with. Typically, a reaper's sickness will endure for approximately half the duration it would afflict a human. During this period, their capacity to perform reaper duties is compromised, and their abilities become erratic and difficult to control.
Therefore, it requires explicit approval from Death. Such permission is only granted in cases with companions if not told otherwise.
They will have the same needs as a regular human while still having the need for their usual diet. However, it is during this period that reapers may encounter increased difficulty in managing their feeding urges. To mitigate potential risks, a sick reaper is conventionally accompanied by another reaper-
A faint, pained groan escaped Jack's lips, pulling Willow from the chronicle. He leaned up against her, cocooned in layers of blankets and a green hoodie, fast asleep. Gently, she trailed her fingers across his forehead, and the feverish warmth of his skin knit her brows together with worry.
"Why aren't you getting better?" she murmured, her words soft and tinged with concern. Jack leaned into her touch, seeking comfort even in his restless slumber. Had he been a mere mortal, Willow would have rushed him to the hospital four days ago when this illness had taken hold. But it showed no signs of relenting, and the unease in her chest deepened. The book said it isn't fatal for reapers, but seeing Jack this sick left a tightening feeling in her chest.
And this was all because of her.
He grimaced and rested his head wearily against her shoulder, sighing softly.
Across the room, Ian materialized by the door, his sudden appearance barely registering with Willow anymore. "He hasn't gotten any better huh?"
"no, are you sure there nothing we can do?"
Ian response was somber, his voice carrying a weight that matched the gravity of the situation. "No. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do." He slouched into a chair opposite her, his gaze fixed upon Jack, lips drawn into a grim line. Slumping his shoulder, he leaned back in the chair with a sigh.
Inhaling deeply, she breathed out slowly, trying to find the right words.
"He's... he's gonna be fine, right?" Her eyes darted down to Jack's feverish face, her forehead creased with worry. She turned her gaze back to Ian, desperation lacing her voice . "We are sure he can't die from this?" The word 'die' emerged from her lips as a fragile whisper, laden with a fear she couldn't entirely conceal.
Willow had kept reading the same chapters about transferring sickness and reapers weaknesses, fearing she missed something and he in fact could die of this. But Ian just gave her a shaky smile and shook his head, telling her what she deep down knew. But the fear nonetheless was still there.
Jack let out a soft, pained groan, diverting both their attention to him. He shifted in his makeshift bed of blankets, sliding down into Willow's lap with a tired yawn, curling up into a protective ball. Willow held her breath for a moment, waiting to see if he was actually awake, but he started breathing deeply and she didn't move him.
"He's at ease with you," Ian said, raising his eyebrow a little before a chuckling. "Shouldn't surprise me, but still."
"He's at ease enough to be a pain," Willow grunted, adjusting herself into a more comfortable position. Her fingers unconsciously wandered into Jack's hair, combing through the strands. "Though he is kinda cute when he's asleep." she added with an unintended blush, her words slipping out before she could censor herself.
Ian's lips quirked into a half-smile upon seeing a flustered Willow. His expression quickly shifted to concern, however, as Jack began to cough loudly. Willow wasted no time, immediately starting to rub his back in an attempt to alleviate his discomfort as he sat up.
"By Death's scythe, my throat," Jack croaked, wiping away beads of sweat from his forehead. He then turned his gaze towards Ian. "When did you arrive?" His voice was hoarse and weak.
"A couple of minutes ago. Have you eaten?" Ian asked, rising from his seat and heading to the kitchen.
Before Jack could answer Willow grunted "other than sour worms? Not really," Jack gave her the same stink eye peter used to give Willow when she ratted him out to mom over breaking her favorite vase and he had tried to put the blame on her. "I tried making carrot soup and he acted like a total baby saying it was too hot." Willow rolled her eyes, pulling her legs up under her. She had even taken the extra step of blowing on it to cool it down, but Jack still hadn't finished the bowl.
"I can't help it if your cooking tastes bad." he grunted, earning a half-hearted shove from Willow.
"It's not that bad! And what do you know? You said you can't taste anything."
"No but I can imagine," he grinned, although his retort was interrupted by another fit of coughing.
"Instead of teasing Willow perhaps stay quiet to let your throat get some rest," Ian sighed as he retrieved the pot containing the soup from the fridge and placed it on the stove. "But that wasn't what I meant, have you eaten?" Both of them fell silent until Jack finally grunted a no. Ian looked over at Willow who just shrugged while pondering if the reason he hadn't was the fact was due to what the chronicle said. But nonetheless his eyes had darkened more than she had seen before, making Willow worry for when he actually was gonna eat. At this point she didn't even care about scars or what it made her fell as much as the fact that scent of peppermint hung thick in the air and the tingling feeling in the back of her head was almost driving her insane. The cabin remained eerily silent, punctuated only by the sound of bubbles rising to the surface as Ian prepared the soup, as he let out an exaggerated sigh.
"You're gonna be the second death of me," he grumbled under his breath, so softly Willow only caught his rolling eyes. He shot a pointed glance at Jack. "You're gonna eat this delicious smelling soup and then properly eat afterwards." Ian's tone of voice left no room for debating as he walked over with a bowl. Jack took the bowl with a grimace, but soon he was gobbling it up.
After finishing his meal, Jack eased back into the couch, and Willow positioned herself awkwardly on her knees in front of him, leaning forward to expose her neck. Ian observed the scene from the chair, his gaze unwavering.
Willow's body trembled slightly as Jack's warm fingers glided over her neck, tracing the line of the ribbon. She couldn't help the rapid thumbing of her heart, knowing they all three could hear it.
"I still don't think this is a good idea," Jack mumbled, already leaning forward with dilated eyes. His hand cupped the nape of her neck, his thumb gently lifting her head.
I don't think either, Willow thought painfully aware Ian was sitting behind her observing them.
Her fingers clutched the legs of Jack's pants as his lips brushed against her neck, coaxing a soft gasp from her lips. The heat of his breath, the sensation of his teeth grazing her marred skin, sent shivers down her spine. She anticipated the familiar surge of feelings that always that always washed over her while his hunger screamed in the back of her head. When his fangs finally pierced her skin, the sensation overwhelmed her, causing her to arch into hits bite.
Jack's fingers firmly but gently held her in place, both of them making noises Willow would have died of embarrassment over if it wasn't for the fact she was to focused on the sensation. All the tension built up over the past few of days due to the worry melted away, replaced by the desire to completely surrender to him.
"Fuck," she moaned, her body trembling as he pulled her closer by her waist, his legs securing her in place on either side. Her hands clutched the hem of his shirt as desire washed over her. Suddenly, another hand grabbed her arm and tugged her back forcefully. A loud growl erupted from Jack's throat as Willow was torn away, his eyes flashing a deep threatening red as he bared his teeth.
For a second, he resembled a carnivore interrupted during a meal. But then, just as quickly, his eyes returned to their familiar baby blue and his mouth closed with a bewildered expression. Ian's arm has been protectively wrapped around willow, and he released her when he noticed Jack's change in demeanor. Gently, he turned her around to inspect the bite mark on her neck.
Ian's cold fingers as he pulled off his gloves sent electric sensations through her veins as he ran them across her wound.
"And this is why you don't transfer sickness," he mumbled, letting go of Willow who finally had regained her senses. Blushing deeply she excused herself, saying she needed a bandage and hurried to the bathroom.
Steadying herself at the bathroom sink, Willow looked into the mirror. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm herself, then turned on the water and began cleaning her neck, noticing the wound was gone. She returned to the living area, finding Jack right where she had left him and Ian in the kitchen, brewing tea. "I found a Midnightrose named Emily who was willing to make something for his throat for some CrÃdose crystals." he smiled, preparing a cup. Willow knew that the last name Midnightrose belonged to one of the two families called CrÃdose witches who was pure-blood. CrÃdose crystals from what she had read were crystals that appeared on pure-blood witches' bones after some years, believed to hold the powers from the diseased.
Curiosity piqued, she peered into the cupboard where she saw a small bag filled with herbs, emitting a fragrant aroma. "What's in it?" she asked.
"Herbs and various things. It's better not to know the specifics," Ian replied with a smile as he poured hot water into the cup. Willow added some sugar, recalling that he preferred it that way. Ian then walked over to Jack, who was bundled up in blankets on the couch. Jack eagerly took the cup, drinking its contents in one go with a satisfied sigh. "This should speed up the healing from the sickness, so I'm coming tomorrow to check up on you guys." Ian smiled, ruffling Jack's hair before vanishing.
Willow sighed relieved, leaning back in the chair she sat in with a relieved smile playing in the corners of her lips, ignoring Jack's searching eyes.