A/N: Hi... here you go! Enjoooy!
Archer sniffled, trying to clear the gooey clump of snot from his nose. He sneezed, which turned into a coughing fit that left him completely drained of energy by the time it stopped. If you couldn't already tell- he was sick.
But he had to finish cleaning his sniper rifle. It really bothered him if he didn't clean it every night. In fact, most of the time he cleaned it several times a day.
In the extremely rare case of him going to bed without doing so, he felt like he was betraying an old friend. Therefore, he did his best to clean it every night, no matter where he was or how he felt.
Being as sick as he was made it a real challenge, though. He was dizzy and felt like he was going to throw up any minute now. He had a fever so high it felt like his brain was boiling in his skull, but the rest of him was freezing.
It didn't help that he was shaking so hard he had almost dropped his rifle several times.
He reached for the cleaning oil and accidentally knocked a glass of water off the table. The sound of shattering glass rung in his ears, sounding about a million times louder than it should've. Was it possible for his head to explode? It damn well felt like it was...
Suddenly Toad ran in, a very concerned expression on his face.
"Archer, are you- shit! What happened?" He asked, running over to pick up the mess.
Only then did he notice how terrible Archer looked.
He gasped and said, "Why aren't you resting?! You look awful! Did you take any medicine? How high is your fev-"
The younger man whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut tight. Toad immediately shut up as soon as the sound left his lips.
"Don' feel g'd..." He ground out, his voice cracking.
He seemed to understand and whispered, "C'mon, baby, let's get you to bed."
He tried to pull his rifle away (because obviously it wouldn't be going to bed with him), but Archer tightened his grip on it and weakly tugged it back toward himself.
"Need... fin'sh..." He choked out.
Toad, of course, knew about his habit of cleaning his rifle all the time. He had just hoped that in the fog of his illness, he had forgotten about it.
But of course that wasn't the case. He sighed and gently pried his hands from it. Archer growled as he set it on the table, out of his reach.
He cupped his cheeks and said, "Hey, hey, I'll finish cleaning it for you, alright? I promise. But you need to take some meds and get lots of rest, because you literally look like a zombie."
He seemed to think about it for a moment, then nodded hesitantly. If it had been anyone else, he would've said, 'Hell no, it's my gun, I'll clean it'. But he trusted Toad and knew he would take good care of it, so he allowed it.
Toad picked him up and headed for their room, careful to avoid the glass shards all over the floor. He'd clean it up later. When he reached their room, he gently set him down on their bed and began removing his clothes.
His heart sank when he noticed how hard he was shaking. Poor thing... He stripped him down to his boxers and pulled the blankets up to his shoulders. Archer whined and weakly tried to kick the blankets off.
"Shhh, love, you need to lie still. I'm gonna work on getting your fever down in a minute, don't worry. You think you can take some pills?" He asked, smoothing the blankets back down.
In reply, he released something that sounded between a sob and a whine. It made Toad want to cry. He hated seeing Archer sick.
"Alright, that's fine, I'll set up an IV for you instead. I'll be back in a minute, okay?"
As he turned to walk away, Archer's hand shot forward with surprising speed and grabbed his.
"Don' leave..." He cried, feebly tugging on his hand.
A few tears escaped his eyes and he almost gave in and stayed right then and there. But he needed to get some medicine in him so he could get better. He had to go.
"Shhh, I'll hurry, I promise. Just relax and try to get some rest. I'll be back." He said soothingly, prying Archer's hands from his and running from the room.
He sprinted down the hall, towards the infirmary, nearly bumping into Ghost as he rounded a corner.
He skidded to a halt and said, "Sorry."
"It's fine, mate, but what's wrong? You seemed like you were in a hurry..."
"Archer's real sick, I gotta go get him some meds. Bye!"
"See ya! Hope Archer gets better soon!" He called, continuing on his way.
He quickly reached the infirmary and managed to gather everything he needed in about 3 minutes. Washcloths, a large bowl to fill with cold water, vials of intravenous Tylenol and Ibuprofen, a couple sterile packages containing syringes, alcohol swabs, and an IV pole with an IV bag hanging from the top. He was all set.
He hurried back to his room to see Archer, who looked miserable. He had somehow managed to get his legs tangled up in the multiple blankets that covered him, and so he laid there, weakly writhing around in a truly pitiful attempt to get his legs free.
The older man rolled the IV pole over beside the bed, setting everything else down on the nightstand to his left. Bleary, unfocused eyes sluggishly met his own and Archer tried to say something, but it was lost in the coughing fit that took over.
Long, wet coughs racked his small form, leaving him gasping for air that seemed to have disappeared from existence. Every time he tried to choke in a breath, it would bring on more coughing and the cycle would start again.
He thought it would stop after a few moments- but it didn't. He panicked and desperately tried to breathe, which only resulted in him coughing even harder. Toad grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into an upright position.
"Archer, you gotta calm down. Hold your breath." He calmly instructed, holding his breath as well, just for good measure.
After a couple tries, Archer managed to hold his breath and stop coughing. He waited a few minutes, listening to him breathe, because he worried too much.
"You okay, baby?" He asked with a frown as he helped him lay back down.
Archer closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, noticeably wincing as he did so. He pulled his eyes back open with obvious difficulty and inclined his head slightly. A nod.
Toad's heart sunk. Poor Archer... he couldn't even talk now. He watched him try to keep his eyes open for about a minute, getting more worried by the second.
He said, "Hey, get some sleep. I'll be right here."
With that said, his eyes finally closed and he fell into a fitful sleep. Toad sighed and untangled his legs from the blankets, smoothing the latter out across the bed. Then he got to work on giving him his medicine.
He cleaned the top of his hand with an alcohol swab and carefully slid the needle into it. His shaking didn't make it easy, but he managed to do it without too hard of a time.
Archer whined slightly as he taped it down, to make sure it stayed, and he pressed a kiss to his forehead in a silent apology. He nearly recoiled when he felt how warm it was.
That made him work faster when he injected a dose of intravenous Tylenol into the IV port. He would use the intravenous Ibuprofen when it wore off and the Tylenol again after that, alternating between the two because that tended to have a better effect.
Archer drifted in and out of sleep while he filled the bowl with cold water and soaked a washcloth, gently dabbing at his forehead, neck, and cheeks with it. He leaned into the cool washcloth, his shaking slowing to small tremors over the course of a few minutes.
It made Toad feel relieved to see that he seemed to feel a bit better now. He looked better as well, because some of the color had returned to his cheeks.
He continued to cool him down for about fifteen minutes, then set the washcloth down and brushed his bangs aside to check his temperature.
He knew his forehead well enough to know that they were in the high 90s now. It had definitely gotten lower, which made him happy. He knew the Tylenol should bring it back down to normal, at least until it was time for another dose.
He sighed heavily and started cleaning everything up, glancing over at Archer to see that he had well and truly fallen asleep. He smiled and gave him a peck on the lips before finishing his task.
He yawned, only then realising how tired he was. He was about to lay down with Archer when he remembered- he still had to pick up the broken glass in the rec room and finish cleaning Archer's rifle.
He groaned, but got up and went to do it anyways.
Because he had promised the person he loves more than anything in the world that he would.
A/N: Yup... that's it. I don't know what I think about this one, to be honest. I mean, yeah, it's nice and all but I feel like it's missing something...
*shrug*
Whatever. I tried. Btw, I've got almost 1,000 words on chapter 26 of Ghosts Don't Break, so yes, I AM working on it! I promise! Please review! :D