Allergic Agony (Pine Gap, Kath, but can be read as original allergy torture)

[Chanel_no5]

***Note***

So, I’m in the miserable part of the month(ly cycle) and because I am miserable someone else should be too. I wanted to just throw ALL the allergic misery on a hot character and watch her suffer, sorrynotsorry, so that’s what I did. ^^ This is a oneshot that I wrote in a single sitting, and if you find any typos, live with them, because I'm not gonna proofread and get embarrassed by how thirsty I was.   

The idea that Kath does her exercise indoors because her hayfever is so bad was a headcanon presented to me by someone over on tumblr, so THANK YOU ENDLESSLY! 

You don’t need to know the show whatsoever to read this piece of self-indulgent filth.  

***

It wasn’t like Kath wouldn’t have preferred to go for a hike or a run outdoors instead of the aimless walk on the treadmill inside her small office, but she really didn’t have a choice. It was grass pollen season in Australia, and Kath was so allergic that even the strongest allergy meds she could get barely made a difference when the pollen count was as high as it was today. Even worse, it was expected to be this bad throughout this week and most of next.

But she had to stay in shape one way or the other, so treadmill it was. At least she could look out the window at the lawn and trees between the offices and pretend she was headed there.

Oh fuck it, no, she couldn’t pretend anything. She was stuck on a noisy fucking treadmill inside a small fucking office because of her stupid fucking body’s ridiculous fucking ineptitude of recognising pollen for the harmless fucking particles they were. For fuck’s sake.

Feeling marginally better after that internal curse-a-thon, Kath rubbed her itchy nose with her palm, performing that upwards swipe that’s known as the ‘allergic salute’, then sniffled loudly. She was horribly stuffed up and the sniffle came right up to the verge of turning into a snort. Groaning, she rubbed her nose again, this time by pressing her fingertips against its right side and massage it in a circular motion for a few seconds before she sniffled again. Her deeply red nostrils flexed, flared, a hint of wetness glittered right underneath them for a moment before she wiped it off with her hand, too far gone into the territory of hayfever hell to bother with etiquette. Either way, she was alone.

It was insane how itchy her nose could get. It was a dull, throbbing, relentless itch, which now and then flared up with the localised intensity of a pinprick, triggering an acute, desperate urge that could not be quelled, not by rubbing, not by pinching, and certainly not by willpower.

All Kath could do when that urge struck her, was to give in to it, whether she wanted to or not.

Like now. She turned her head and sneezed to the side, openly and unashamedly. She was usually a fairly wet sneezer, but at this point the sneezes were so harsh and throaty they didn’t even produce much spray. They were more like raspy roars, clawing their way from the depths of her lungs and through her itchy throat with a force that left her breathless and made her eyes stream with tears of irritation.

“HaaAAARSCHHHooo! UhhhEESCCHHHooo!- oh God… hah-RAH-EECHHHooo! Bloody h-hehh… heh-hell!”

She shook her head, brushed a strand of red hair out of her face and let out a quick, light cough. It shouldn’t be this bad indoors. Not when she was on prescription meds.

Bringing both hands up to her face, she started rubbing her burning, gritty eyes, knowing she’d regret it, unable to stop herself. She had made a symbolic effort at doing her makeup this morning, but by the time she got to work the mascara and eyeliner had already been a casualty of her body’s war against the pollen, all mixed with tears and smudged beyond saving. She hadn’t bothered reapplying any. That had turned out to be a wise decision, because she had rubbed her eyes more times than she could count today.

She kept up her destinationless walk on the treadmill, but mentally she could barely focus her thoughts on anything outside of how unbearably itchy she was. Everything itched. Eyes, nose, the roof of her mouth, her throat, fuck, it felt like her entire head itched. She was congested, yet her nose was running, to the point that she could feel a trail of watery liquid trickling down her upper lip.

Wiping her nose with her palm again, once more pushing the cherry-red tip of her nose upwards, she let out a thick, exhausted moan. It sounded even to her own ears like she was crying. This allergic agony was surely enough to make anyone cry, no doubt, but she wasn’t actually crying.

She inhaled sharply, held the breath for a few seconds as her nose couldn’t decide whether to follow through, and then snapped forward with the sheer force of the erupting sneeze.

“HuhhhAAERRSCHHHaah! Fuck!” she yelled in frustration and slammed her hand against the treadmill, as if it was somehow responsible for her miserable state, then she doubled over and sneezed again. And again. And again. Each sneeze more aggressive-sounding than the one before it, itchy allergic explosions that could not be spelled with regular letters, should anyone for some reason attempt to. It was a whole series of harsh, heavy sneezes that seemed far too strong to emanate from such a small woman. Eyebrows knitted together and quivering nostrils wrinkled in a desperate grimace as the insides of her beautiful but oh so sensitive nose were viciously attacked by the persistent prickle. 

And she sneezed again, a rapid triple that came dangerously close to making her trip herself as she struggled to keep her balance.

She came to the conclusion that if she kept trying to walk she would probably end up hurting herself somehow, so she turned the machine off and stepped back onto the floor, blindly reaching for the towel she would normally use to dab the sheen of sweat off her brow and neck, and instead put her whole face into the terrycloth. She proceeded to unleash what was probably the loudest, harshest, and most painful sneezing fit of her entire life, somewhat muffling the violent outbursts into the folds of cloth, but otherwise completely helpless against the brute force of her hayfever.

Oh God, I can’t fucking stop…!

She knew she would, of course. No sneezing fit, no matter how ferocious or powerful, lasted forever, even allergy season itself didn’t last forever, so of course she would stop.

At some point.

But Kath also knew, from bitter, lifelong experience, that once an allergy fit like this one struck her, all she could do was to surrender unconditionally to the power of the mighty pollen, and let the spectacle play out. She didn’t have to like it, but she had no say in these matters. Nature just… didn’t like her very much, it seemed. And at this time of year, that feeling was certainly mutual. 

Edited January 30, 2022 by Chanel_no5

[flowerbearfalls]

I absolutely love your descriptions, this is so good!!

[brownsasha11]

This is awesome the internal monologue hits the spot

[CantDoThisAnymore]

To watch someone truly miserable due to allergies - a mixture of ecstasy and guilt. Incredible description, thank you for sharing this with us.

[Chanel_no5]

On 2/2/2022 at 2:28 AM, flowerbearfalls said:

I absolutely love your descriptions, this is so good!!

Aww, thank you!!  

On 2/2/2022 at 3:08 AM, brownsasha11 said:

This is awesome the internal monologue hits the spot

Thank you so much!!  

On 2/2/2022 at 5:23 AM, Mikesfet said:

To watch someone truly miserable due to allergies - a mixture of ecstasy and guilt. Incredible description, thank you for sharing this with us.

Especially when they're trying to go on with whatever they're doing...   And yes, usually best enjoyed in fiction, so the guilt can be reduced.   Thank you so much!