Around noon, Eric was sitting in his office working on the playbook. In his hand was the half eaten remnants of a sandwich Tami had snuck into his bag that morning knowing he always forgot to make his own lunch. There was a scowl on his face, the pressure from the donors breathing down his neck tempting him to take up day drinking. Normally everyone knew not to bother him during this time because he was deep in focus. That day, however, he was interrupted when his phone began to ring.
"What is it?" he grumbled upon answering.
A soft woman's voice responded, "Hello Coach, it's Mary from the nurse's office. I'm sorry to bother you."
"Is something wrong with Julie?"
"No. Actually, Matt Saracen was brought in a few minutes ago with a severe fever."
"Okay, so why are you calling me?"
"Well we of course tried to contact someone at home, but no one answered. And Matt is insisting we let him go back to class. I thought perhaps you could come down and talk some sense into him." Eric sighed, the urge to drink growing ever stronger.
"Fine. I'll be there in a few minutes." He hung up and briefly considered smashing his phone. Instead he closed the playbook, grabbed his hat, and stood up. "Goddamnit, Matt," he whispered to himself as he left.
When he arrived at the nurse's office, Matt was standing against the wall. He seemed to be glaring at the nurses, who had mostly decided to just leave him be to avoid further confrontation. Upon seeing Coach Taylor, his demeanor changed.
"Coach, I didn't want them to call you," he said. "I was in class and Mrs. Davis forced me to come down here. I feel totally-" Eric held up a hand and Matt quieted instantly.
"I'm attempting to get this team organized for this weekend and I get a phone call that you're refusing to let these women do their jobs. What the hell's the matter with you?"
"I'm not sick, sir. I can go back to class." Before he could protest, Eric pressed a hand against Matt's forehead and it was noticeably warm. Upon closer inspection Matt looked paler in general, wobbling a little as if he was unsteady on his feet.
"Mary, are you going to send him back to class?" he asked the nurse, who shook her head. "Alright, I'm taking him home. Can you please call Tami and tell her?"
"Coach I don't need to go," Matt protested.
"Either you're walking out with me or I will drag you out and it will not look good for you." That appeared to be enough for Matt as he let Eric pull him out firmly but gently by the arm. They headed out through the locker room so no one would notice them leave and start asking questions. It wasn't until they'd gotten in the car and left the parking lot that Matt spoke up again.
"I don't want my grandma to worry about me," he said quietly, guilt on his face. Eric wanted to be annoyed with him for being so stubborn, but he couldn't help the sympathy he felt.
"That's why you're not going to your house," he told the teen. "Do you have someone who can check in on your grandmother?"
"I can call Landry I guess," Matt responded. "But I can't just leave her."
"You can't take care of anybody unless you take care of yourself. So you're staying at our house until your fever goes down. End of discussion, understand?" Matt nodded reluctantly.
When they walked in the front door, Eric half guided half pushed Matt over to the couch. Despite still trying to put up some resistance, the teen seemed to relax a little once he was seated. Eric went into the kitchen and attempted to figure out his plan. He didn't have a great deal of experience being a caretaker, though he usually handled it well when Julie became sick and he knew the lengths Tami had to go to when he was ill to make him accept help. As Matt looked around, his gaze unfocused, Eric turned on the faucet. First he ran the nearby washcloth under the water, afterward filling a glass and turning the knob off.
"Fever takes a lot out of you," he told Matt. "You need to stay hydrated and you need to get some rest."
"I don't need to sleep," Matt argued. Eric would swear that the boy was just trying to contradict him at this point.
"Fine," he relented. He opened one of the cabinets near the sink and glanced over at Matt, who seemed to be staring at the blank TV screen. Confident Matt wasn't paying much attention, he brought the water over and grabbed the remote. "You're going to help me go through these game tapes, then. But first you have to drink something at least."
"I can take care of myself, I don't need you babying me."
"Then stop acting like a baby. Now drink." Matt accepted the glass and downed the water. When he finished he briefly made a face but didn't say anything to Eric's relief. Tami had been prescribed sleeping pills for the last several months, but every once in a while when someone was sick and needed rest they'd dissolve one in water to help speed up the process. Eric only had so much patience when dealing with stubborn teenagers. He turned on one of the game tapes and it sufficiently distracted Matt, who watched with as much focus as he could muster.
"I always pass to Smash," he mumbled. "If we need to switch it up, I could fake to him and toss it to Riggins." Eric couldn't help but chuckle slightly. For a boy who seemed to be almost afraid of the game a year ago, Matt was getting better at analyzing football and making decisions. There was a moment where he thought if Matt ended up as his assistant coach after he graduated, it wouldn't be that bad.
Over the next 45 minutes, Eric and Matt went through several plays on the tapes. Eric was sure to always try and engage Matt as to what he thought, but with every minute that passed Matt was getting more sluggish and responding less. His head started to droop to the side, closer to Eric's shoulder, and Eric didn't mention it. Eventually Matt stopped talking altogether and leaned against Eric with his eyes closed, not moving for several minutes. Eric maneuvered himself away from the teen until he was standing next to the couch and Matt had fallen completely to the side. With as delicate a move as he could manage, Eric scooped the boy into his arms and began to carry him into the spare room. He laid Matt across the bed and pulled a pillow under his head, careful not to move him too roughly. Then he removed his shoes and covered him with the blanket. Within a minute, he exited the room and came back with a newly wetted washcloth. He folded the cloth in half and placed it over Matt's forehead, causing him to stir slightly.
"Don't leave," he said softly to Eric. His eyes were open just a crack, he didn't even appear to be aware of what was going on. "Please don't leave again." Eric didn't know if Matt was talking to him or if it was a fever dream and he was imagining someone else. Seeing the sadness on his barely conscious face, it really didn't matter.
"I'm not going anywhere, son," he whispered, putting a hand on Matt's shoulder. "You're alright, I'm right here." This placated Matt and after a few minutes he was asleep again. Not wanting to leave him again for the moment, Eric couldn't help but study his face as he quietly snored. It hadn't struck him until now, but he had become used to Matt's expression being one of pain. Sadness, disappointment, anxiety. Constantly on edge about something, never able to relax. But in his current state his features had softened, the closest to peace he'd been in a while. Eric found that he wanted to make this easier for Matt, to help him deal with that fear. Of course he couldn't take it easy on him at practice, he had to be tough on all of them, and that's the way Matt wanted it anyway. Nevertheless he hoped that he could find some way to look out for the boy, a way that few people ever cared to do.
He ended up staying at Matt's side for the next few hours, opting to show up a little late for practice that day. Thankfully he had enough of a reputation that no one pushed him for a reason why he let his assistant coaches take the reigns for part of practice. He didn't leave until Tami arrived home, trusting her to have a better understanding of caregiving anyway. She came into the spare room and took everything in fairly quickly, a knowing smile appearing on her lips.
"Not one word," he warned as he walked past her, only causing her smile to grow even wider. When practice was over, he'd be back to check on Matt again. Until he was better.
So admittedly my knowledge of football is limited, that's why I didn't have a lot of football talk in this fic. Let me know what you thought and if you want more stories centered on Coach Taylor and Matt.
