What Friends Are For
a League of Super Evil story
by nichtgesund
Doktor Frogg was not having a good day. For starters, the morning had barely begun and already he'd been bitten twice by Doomageddon, then electrocuted by the coffee machine when Voltar had insisted that it was his turn to make coffee (which was a bald-faced lie and they both knew it, but under the circumstances, Frogg had been too tired to argue), and just to add insult to his growing list of injuries, he'd woken up that morning with an irascible head cold. He was getting no sympathy from Voltar, either, and that combined with the fact that he couldn't seem to go more than two minutes without sneezing his head off was grating on his last nerve.
As if to spite him, the burning itch in his tortured sinuses suddenly flared up again and he sneezed wetly in the crook of his elbow, barely having time to contain it. "Ehschoo! EHSCHOO!"
"UGH," Voltar groaned dramatically. "Will you PLEASE do something about that incessant sneezing, Frogg?! You're driving me crazy!"
"Just DEAL with it, Voltar!" Frogg snapped irritably. "I'm sick!"
"Well, can't you just... cure yourself or something?" Voltar said petulantly. "You're a doctor, aren't you?"
"I'm not that kind of doctor!" Frogg exploded, incensed. "I am a SCIENTIST! And there is no cure for the common - for the - EHSCHOO!"
"Gee, Doktor Frogg," Red Menace said from the kitchen doorway, making them both jump. Frogg never could figure out how someone so big could move about so quietly. "You sound awful."
"Finally, we agree on something," Voltar said dryly, glowering at the sniffling Doktor Frogg.
Red glanced from him back to Frogg. "Are you sick?"
"Very," Frogg replied flatly. He sniffled again, but he could never seem to keep the flow back for more than a few seconds, resulting in an ongoing bout of sniffling that usually ended in a bunch of messy sneezes.
Red lumbered over to the table where the scientist was slumpt in a chair across from Voltar. He pressed his enormous hand against Frogg's forehead before the doctor had a chance to argue. "You're burning up," he told him, concerned. "We better get you back to bed."
"No, Red, I'll be fi - " But before he could finish Red Menace scooped him up in his arms as if he were nothing more than a ragdoll and began making his way out of the kitchen towards the bedrooms. "What are you doing?!" Frogg yelped, half in anger and half in shock. "Put me down!"
"Don't be silly," Red chided gently. "You're sick - you need your rest!" Presently they reached the bedroom, whereupon Red plopped the doctor down on the bed in a heap and pulled the rumpled covers up over his lanky frame, tucking him in just as homey as you please. "There. Doesn't that feel better?"
As much as he hated to admit it, he actually did feel a little better. He still felt horrible, but the soft bed beneath him and the warm blanket wrapped around his shoulders did ease his discomfort somewhat. "Thank you, Red," he said sincerely.
"Aww, what are friends for?" the Siberian farm-boy said cheerfully. He produced a box of tissues seemingly from nowhere, plunking them down on a cluttered nightstand next to the bed. "I thought you might be needing these."
Just the sight of the tissues seemed to get Frogg's nose itching again. He started to reach for one, feeling the sensation building, but he didn't make it in time and ended up sneezing all over himself. "Ehschuh!"
"Bless you!" Red offered, his brow furrowing worriedly. He plucked a tissue from the box and held it out to the doctor helpfully.
"Thank you," Frogg muttered, rather embarrassed. He clutched at the thin paper with his claws, but when he went to blow his nose it slipped away and fluttered in the breeze of the ceiling fan onto the floor. "Damn it," he growled reaching for another, but this time, instead of pulling it out of the box as he had intended, he merely shredded it.
"Lemme give you a hand," Red said sympathetically. He pulled out another tissue and, before Frogg knew what he was about, pinched his dripping nose with it. "Blow," he instructed.
Frogg felt more than a little ridiculous, but it was better than trying to sniff the snot back constantly. He blew his nose as quietly as possibly, hoping he didn't accidentally sneeze on Red before this ordeal was over and make the situation even more awkward.
"Better?" Red asked him when he was finished and the damp tissue had been discarded.
Frogg nodded, yawning wearily. He did feel slightly better now that his nose had been cleared, though suddenly much more tired. He coughed lightly, wincing slightly at the rattling sound in his lungs.
"Get some sleep," Red told him, "and later I'll make you a big hot bowl of chicken soup! How does that sound?"
Doktor Frogg smiled wryly. It certainly wasn't the most evil thing in the world, but right now it sounded pretty nice. "I'd like that," he said simply, closing his bloodshot eyes, smiling as he felt Red's big hand stroking his hair gently, remaining that way until he fell asleep.
Disclaimer: LOSE and all characters herein belong to Nerd Corps. No profit is being made off this fiction.
About: A short, fluffy scene in which Doktor Frogg is sick, and Red helps him feel better.