Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing of this story – nothing! (Except the plot, but come on – no-one wants this old thing!) Just My Luck is just a film, Ashley and Jake are fictional and McFly belong to themselves. This story is COMPLETELY fictional!

He woke up the next morning, still unsure of how long he'd even slept for. The bin beside his bed had definitely been vomited in, and Tom's nose crinkled up as he tried to clean it up in the bathroom. Of course, Jake had been right again and he felt exactly the same… no, even worse than before, and Tom had been too proud to take any notice. He slowly made his way back downstairs to find Harry and Dougie asleep together on the sofa, arms wrapped tightly around one another.

"Tom, you look more wasted than I do." Jake commented. Tom spun around to find him making breakfast in the kitchen. "Are you sure you didn't have anything to drink?"

"No, I'm just… distracted." he replied, but his world felt like a blur. "Jake, I… I think you're right. I've come down with something."

"Oh boy, not now!" he moaned, much to Tom's surprise. "You're meant to be going home tomorrow, you can't stay here any longer!"

"It's not that Jake… I just need a check-up. It'll probably just be stomach flu or something, and I know it'll clear up." Tom persuaded, although it felt more like a lie. "Look, could you just keep us here for one more week?"

"One more week?" Jake asked. "Tom, Ashley's moving in today, and I really don't want her having to live with you – no offence."

"None taken." Danny walked through, still staggering and he put the kettle on.

Tom leant over the sink and tried to stop shaking, but found himself coughing repeatedly. "Danny, I was just asking Jake if you could… s-stay here for another week," he explained. "I don't think I'm well enough to g-get the plane tomorrow."

"Is it just stomach flu? If it is then I'm sure…" Danny began, but once again Tom found himself hissing at the brunette angrily.

"If it was just stomach flu I wouldn't be in crippling pain, you idiot." he replied through gritted teeth and he bent over further. "Fuck, this hurts."

"Okay, maybe you won't be fine for the plane." Danny raced to help Tom back up, before realizing he'd been sick in the sink again. "Dude – gross."

"Thanks for the support." he groaned back, trying to stand up and was soon back to normal. "This isn't just stomach flu Danny…"

"You think?"

"It's something else…" Tom replied, sucking in air through his teeth and wrapping his arms around his mid-section. "I'm staying here for another week and see how things go. You guys can get the plane as planned and I'll call you if anything happens."

"No way man, we're not leaving you here!" Dougie yelled through as he rubbed at his eyes. "And besides, my mum called – she wants to have some of your cooking again and she won't like it if I came home alone."

Jake looked between Tom and Dougie in surprise. "I didn't know you could cook." he taunted, grinning like a loon. "Shame you didn't unleash your talents on the world."

"Shut up." Tom couldn't fail to smile, and he brushed his hair back. "So, we can stay for another week?"

"Another week; but anymore than that and you're in trouble." Jake warned. "Tom, stay here until you get better, but those three better be on a plane within a week!"

"Fine, of course we'll be on the bloody plane!" Harry promised, trying to remove himself from the tangle of his and Dougie's legs. "Just make sure Tom gets to come home as well."

"And I will come home!" he laughed, ruffling his hair up a little. "Just give me time."

They gave him time, but as the week drove on Tom seemed to get worse and worse. It even got to the extent of him having to stay in his room all day, and hadn't managed to get better by the time that the rest of the band had to pack up and go home. On the big day, they'd all piled into Tom's room for a goodbye party with more alcohol and a guitar jamming session. Tom didn't understand how they could all drink so much in a short space of time, but he was well enough to sit up and play guitar with them at the end. Soon, everyone was getting ready to take Harry, Dougie and Danny back down to the airport.

"Tom, are you sure you'll be fine coming along?" Jake asked once again, grabbing the band's guitar cases and getting them sorted to put in the trunk of the car.

"I have to – can't just leave you lot at the airport, can I?" he replied, not really feeling that bothered. He managed to pull himself out of bed and grab his friends' things, before heading back downstairs. "Harry, please call me when you get back, alright? And make sure those two -" Here, he gestured at Danny and Dougie. "Make sure they don't cause trouble."

"Have we ever caused trouble before?" Dougie smirked, trying his best to look innocent and failing miserably.

"Don't answer that one." Tom groaned, before bending over again in pain. Everyone waited until he could get up again, and he managed to get back on his feet. "Jake, have you actually got me an appointment yet?"

"There's one sorted at the hospital for tomorrow morning, and it'll all work out, I promise." Jake crossed his fingers for good luck, and Ashley sighed theatrically. It was one of his habits that got on everyone's nerves, and it had even affected her despite the fact she'd only stayed for a week. He ushered everyone towards the front door, but for some reason Danny stayed behind.

"Staying to rub it in any further?" Tom frowned, rubbing at his face.

Danny shook his head. "Actually, I came to make sure you'd be alright to actually get in the car at all." He sat on the bed again, and grinned again.

"You know… it could be your fault, you know." Tom suddenly blurted out what he'd been thinking for the last day or so. Danny froze and looked at Tom.

"You mean it?"

"I don't know, but it could be you!" he tried to explain. "I mean, maybe you passed something on to me… you had something didn't you?" Tom backed away slowly from the brunette, who shrugged.

"Not that I was aware of, no. Promise to ring me as soon as you know what's up."

Tom nodded, not really listening. "Yeah yeah, whatever." He smiled, before suddenly hugging Danny tightly. "I'll miss you, you buffoon."

"Aren't you so generous?" Danny laughed, trying to break loose. "Can I get home now?"

"So long as you come back for me." he replied, before cursing himself for saying it. Why was he being so affectionate with just his best friend?

"Of course I'll come back for you. I mean, you're the talent here Fletcher." Danny picked up his bag, and showed Tom to the back seat of the car. Maggie and Dana were squashed beside Ashley, whilst Jake was in the driving seat waiting for the pair of them to get inside. "Just remember Tom; I'm a phone call away if you need me."

"I know." Tom shuddered. "Hey, hang on… what do you think's wrong with me?"

"Haven't got the foggiest." he replied honestly. "Well… come on, or we'll miss this bloody plane!" Danny laughed, before helping Tom into the car and they sped off towards the airport.

"Blood tests?" Tom asked in alarm, looking up at the doctor stood in front of him. He nodded calmly.

"There doesn't appear to be anything wrong, but we're not confident with that result." he explained, looking back down at his clipboard. "All that seems to be out of place is high hormone levels, which normally shouldn't cause symptoms like these. A blood test would probably be best." The blonde fell back onto the examination bed in disgust; they'd already probed him enough as it was with the tests they'd done today, without asking for a blood sample as well.

"How long will it be until you can find out what's wrong?" he asked, biting his nails.

"At the most, a week. The least… end of the day." The doctor watched Tom's face as it darted from expressions of panic to nausea to worry. "We'll contact you as soon as we can, and if there's something of concern we can get you back here."

"Um, sorry for interrupting…" Jake began, stepping towards the younger boy. "But he might not be able to come back because he's meant to be going home soon. To England."

"Oh, you're British?" he asked.

Tom shrugged. "Is it important? I just want to know what's wrong!" Folding his arms stubbornly, he waited for a response.

"Sorry, he's just kind of… moody, at the moment." Jake explained, trying to calm Tom down. "Any advice on what we can do till then?"

"Crackers are usually quite good to stop the nausea, but apart from that it just seems like business as normal." the doctor recommended, rechecking the results. "I'll get back to you as soon as you can; until then, just try and get some rest." Tom nodded, before letting himself slide of the bed numbly and getting a slip of paper to prove he'd been thoroughly examined.

"Jake, you do think everything's going to work out, right?" he asked as they left the hospital. Jake shrugged his shoulders.

"I hope they do – for you, I mean, not for me… I mean…" he stumbled over his words. "Well, yeah – you'll be fine."

"Hey guys!" Maggie called out to them from the car, waving them over without getting them ran over by passing traffic. "How did it go?"

"They're doing more tests." Tom replied miserably. "I don't think they want to tell me in case it's bad." Maggie looked at him.

"Bad as in…?"

"Maybe fatal?" Tom asked, and his mind spun at the possibilities. "What if I'm dying?"

"Tom Fletcher, you are not dying…" Jake tried to tell him, and Maggie heartily agreed.

But it would not put Tom's mind at rest. "What if it's cancer? What if it's some sort of disease? What if -"

"Just, for once, think about what if it's just a bug!" Maggie yelled at him, and Tom paused. "Tom, for God's sake, just… hang in there, until we get something back from the doctors."

"Okay, I'll try." Tom prevailed. "But I know something's not right. Something bad…" At this, Jake looked down at his sneakers and coughed nervously. "What is, Jake?"

"Nothing, it's just… something Madame Z said…"

"That cranky old fortune-teller Ashley knew?" Maggie queried, adjusting her view in the mirror and checked her hair for kinks. "You got a reading?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't matter." Jake frowned. Tom looked over.

"You sure it's nothing?"

Jake nodded, but didn't say much. Maybe this was what Madame Z was talking about…

"…she represents new opportunities and a new life…"

"A new life…" Jake muttered, before looking out the window. They were approaching his block of apartments, and judging by the look on Tom's face they might have been able to make it just in time. Maggie looked at her ill passenger too, before reaching out under her seat and pulling out a waste bag. Tom took it, smiled nervously, before throwing up inside it, with Jake holding his floppy fringe back to stop it being ruined.