Title: Ill

Summary: Banky's sick and Holden tries to help. From Banky's P.O.V.

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: Hint of Hooper/Banky, Holden/Banky

A/N: Hey, everyone. I didn't come up with these characters. They all belong to the wonderful Kevin Smith. All copyrights go to him. I'll love you forever if you read and comment. Read my others, as well. Thanks.


Oh, man. I felt like crap. My head felt like it had been squeezed in a vice. My nose felt like it had been plugged with cork. My throat felt like someone had stuffed it with hot peppers. I groaned and squinted, seeing the florescent light pour between my eyelids. I rolled over to my left and looked at my nightstand, which held my tiny black alarm clock/radio. 7:48 PM. Holy shit, I'd been asleep nearly twenty-four hours.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes, seeing Hooper sitting at the end of my bed, flipping through a magazine.

"And she awakens." He said, grinning. "Sleeping Beauty is up! 'Morning, sunshine."

"Uh…" I groaned, putting my head in my hands. "What happened?"

"You got the flu, honey. I got back from the grocery store last night; you met me at the door, sniffled, and then fainted.

"I called Holden and he came over, helping me get you into bed. He put you in your pajamas while I went out to get you medicine." Hooper stood and walked next to me, stroking my hair. His hands felt cool on my forehead, which I realized was ridiculously sweaty. My eyes opened at the sound of Holden's name. I looked down, and, sure enough, I was wearing a new shirt and no pants. My hands wrapped around the edge of the comforter and pulled them up around my waist.

Hooper giggled. "It ain't like I haven't seen it before."

I shook my head. "Where is he?"

"Out." Hooper said. "He'll be back in a little while. In the mean time, you just rest. I'll make you some soup. Now, how's that sound?"

I nodded slowly. Hooper smiled and kissed my perpetrating forehead. He waltzed over to the door and exited, closing it behind him.

My eyes wandered to the popcorn ceiling. Holden. Man, I'd been living with Hooper for 10 months and I hadn't got a single call from him. I would have settled for a damn letter, but no, Holden was too busy. Probably dating a girl…or a guy…or a sheep, or whatever he screwed these days.

I could feel my eyelids sinking lower over my eyes, and I did not object.


The door creaked as it was pushed open. This woke me. I couldn't sleep with noise. But I wasn't fully awake, only enough to hear what was going on.

"How is he?" Came a voice. It seemed vaguely familiar.

"Poor thing's got a 101° fever." Hooper said.

"Oh man…" Came the voice.

"Thanks for helping me move last night."

"No problem."

"I got soup on the stove. You want some?"

"No, no…h-how long has he been asleep?"

"…A half hour." Hooper said.

"Oh." Came the voice. Why couldn't I place it?

"Yeah. Just put them flowers down and come have some soup."

"Nah, I'll stay here."

"Holden-" Holden! "-he'll be fine. Come on."

"Hoop, I think I'll just stay here."

Hooper was quiet for a moment, but then sighed. "All right." He said. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."

"Thanks." Holden replied. I heard the door hinge shut as Hooper walked out. My heart raced as I felt Holden sit by my knee's on the bed. He shook my thigh.

"Banky…Banky…" He called. My eyes slid open and blinked up at him sleepily. He hadn't changed. He still had that ridiculous goatee, that puffy brown hair…and I was so happy to see him.

"H-Holden…" I said, trying to sit up. He pushed a hand down on my chest.

"Lay down, man." Holden smiled. "You're sick…look!" He said brightly, pulling a small bunch of flowers from behind him.

"I'm not a chick. Stuff like that won't get you in my pants." I joked. He laughed. I loved his laugh. "Yeah, I guess your right." He said, placing the flowers on my nightstand beside me.

"You shouldn't have brought them." I said quietly.

"Why not?" Holden asked.

"I…" Should I have told me that they were a reminder of him and how much I missed him? I sighed. "I don't know."

Holden was silent for a few moments. I listened to the distant sound of Hooper watching Wheel of Fortune. Holden's breathing was slow and shaky. "I miss you." He whispered after a few moments, turning his face away from me.

My breath was caught in my throat. Had he really, or was he just saying that to make me feel better? I sighed, rubbing my eyes. "Why didn't you call?"

"Because I didn't think you'd want to talk to me." He replied.

"Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend."

"Because of what…I did."

"What, you mean kiss me?"

Holden's eyes looked over my room, inspecting every inch. He turned to me. "Yeah…that."

"Hell, it wasn't like you meant it or anything."



"What if…I…did?"

My eyes were unblinking, startled, and open. I couldn't believe it. Did he mean it? Probably not. He was toying with my emotions. That bastard.

"Holden, don't." I said, running a hand through my hair.

"Banky, I think-"

"Don't say it."

"-that maybe-"


"-I might-"

"Please, no."

"-love you."

"Shut up, Holden. You don't know what you're saying. You're drunk or high or some shit like that. You aren't saying this because you love me, Holden, and it's not fair. It's not fair!" I was sitting up now. How dare he mess with me like this!

"But…" His voice trailed off.

"But what, Holden? 'Ooh, I love you, Banky. Come live with me again'? Hell no, Holden! I won't have my heart broken again!" By now, I was crying, looking like a total wimp. I hid my face in my hands, not wanting him to see.

Suddenly, I felt his arm around my shoulder. I sniffed and looked up, wiping furiously at my eyes.

"Tell me what's going on." He whispered. I shook my head. I wish he wouldn't have touched me. It made me shiver each time he did.

"Stop…" I mumbled as he pulled me to his chest, rubbing my back. But I did not move.

"Shh…" He said, fingering my hair. Sick, sobbing, and heart broken, I gave up and put my arms around his waist. I nodded and sighed. Suddenly, he lifted up my chin. Through my tears I could see him, beautiful Holden. Wonderful Holden. He pushed my chin up and kissed me. I'd missed him, and yet I hadn't realized how much until now. I just wish he hadn't have kissed me.

I pulled back and sat up on my own, looking at my lap. I couldn't face him now. I couldn't tell him that I loved him. It would confuse everything. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him looking at me longingly. Ouch. That hurt. He looked heart-broken, but now I guess he knows what it's like to get a taste of his own medicine. I heard myself sigh. Holden scooted closer to me, making the bed creak. I rubbed the bridge of my nose.

"Banky…I'm sorry." Holden mumbled. "I…didn't mean to hurt you."

"Yeah? Well, you did anyways!" I cried.

"Hey! Calm down! I was only trying to help!" He yelled.

"We've established that, Holden!"

"Hey, shut up, Banky! I'm trying to comfort you, trying to be a friend, and you're just being a jackass! Stop pushing me away!"

"What, like how you pushed me away?" I retorted.

Holden was quiet. I didn't think what I said had hurt him. He probably realized how much pain he caused me.

"Banky, I know I hurt you, and I know it'll take a lot of groveling for you to finally forgive me. But you can't keep me out of your life forever, and you know it! Hooper knows it, and Alyssa does too! That's why she stepped aside! Banky, you have to come to terms with what your real feelings towards me are. Love, hate, anger, whatever. But I don't want you to be remorseful and think constantly of how much you wish you could tell me how you really felt. I already told you how I feel, and you didn't accept it. I want to know how your honestly feel about me, and don't hold back." Holden said finally, turning to me.

I was at a loss for words, unlike Holden. I blinked repeatedly and said finally: "Holden, you want to know the truth? I hate you. I hate you so much it hurts. I hate the way you touch me, because it feel so good. I hate the way you kiss me, because when you stop, I feel empty. I hate when you look at me and you smile, because I feel like I'm melting. I hate when you hold me, because I know you're eventually going to let go. I hated it when you came home from a date, because I knew you weren't thinking about me at all. I hate when you don't call, because it makes me feel unimportant. I hate you so much, Holden, and yet…I love you."

I was going to continue, but I was prevented when Holden grabbed my cheeks and kissed me on the lips. I could feel his tongue requesting access, and I allowed it. I moved my hands down his chest and settled them on his hips. He pulled back for air, but quickly came back in. This was so much better than being with a chick. I hope he thought the same.

There was a creak from behind Holden, but he obviously hadn't heard it. But I had. I looked up wide-eyed to see Hooper standing in my doorway, hands on his hips. I quickly pulled back from Holden and nodded at Hooper. He turned to see him and gasped.

"Well, well, well." Hooper said smugly.

"I…this isn't…" I stuttered.

"Isn't what, Banky? Weren't you just making out with Goatee Boy?" Hooper asked.

Holden looked at Hooper angrily. "Hey, lay off."

"I'm just trying to make a point." Hooper said, turning to me. "Welcome to the Purple Side."

"Shut it, Urkel."

"Boy, don't make me come over there!"

"Relax, both of you." Holden said.

I sniffled and lay down on my pillow. Holden rubbed my thigh comfortingly and I sighed shakily. Hooper laughed. "You two have fun now." He said, closing the door.

I closed my eyes. "Holden…you kissed me."

"I know, Banky."

"And I'm sick."

"…Oh. Shit."

I chuckled softly as he continued to rub my thigh. "I love you."

"I know. I love you, too."