I'll Take Care of You – Chapter Three
Panicatcasualty, thank you so much! I read through the reviews this morning (this one in particular caught my eye) and thought to myself 'Iris, you're getting a chapter up today whether your fingers fall off from typing or not!' (Luckily, they didn't!) Xx
Teeloganroryflan, yes, poor Ethan! It does make for a bit of wonderful, self-indulgent writing, though! X
CBloom2, thank you, I'm sorry that this has been neglected for a while! Xx
Becs2202, I'm glad you don't think this is OTT, I do worry sometimes! Thank you for your review xx
Is-there-somewhere-x, thank you!:)
I can't remember if I put an overhead warning of vomiting in the summary of this story, so please consider yourselves warned after reading this sentence.
Cal sat Ethan down on the sofa and wished he hadn't spotted the tears shining in his brother's eyes. "Hey, buddy, what's wrong?" he said softly, sitting down next to Ethan and stroking his arm.
The younger just shook his head, biting his lip and searching for Cal's hands with his own trembling ones.
Cal pulled Ethan close to his chest, almost getting teary himself. He could probably count the times Ethan had cried in front of him in the last 10 years on one hand. Cal stroked though his blonde hair, holding him tighter when he felt Ethan's burning forehead burying further into his chest.
Before long the older began to feel tears soaking into his top, his frown deepening at Ethan's little gasps for breath. "Hey, shhhh, we're home now, aren't we?" Cal squeezed his shoulder.
Ethan sniffed. "Tissue?" he sobbed out, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes.
Cal handed him one, rubbing his shaking back soothingly. "Alright?" Cal brushed Ethan's hair from his forehead. "Mmmm, you're just not very well, are you?"
The younger shook his head, wiping his nose and resting his head back on Cal's chest.
Cal stroked his shoulder. "It's okay, Nibbles. How about you have a Nurofen and a little nap, then I'll make you something to eat when I'm back from work, alright?"
Ethan gave a little sigh, a few stray tears sliding down his cheeks. He nodded.
The older patted his shoulder, "I'll go and fetch a blanket and some water then, buddy."
Ethan sat up slightly and pulled his knees to his chest, shivering a little at the loss of Cal's warmth. He buried his face in another tissue, letting his heavy eyelids slip shut whilst he waited.
Ethan wasn't sure how long it had been before he felt Cal's hand on his knee. He managed to open his eyes to find Cal crouched down in front of him.
"I know you're tired, Nibbles," Cal said sympathetically, "but I just need you to take some medicine and then you can have a little sleep, alright?"
Ethan nodded.
Cal popped a pill out of the packet. "I'm only going to give you one, because I'm not sure exactly how many you've already had – I don't think you are either – and the last thing I want to do is give you too many, alright buddy?"
"Jus' want to sleep, Cal…" Ethan whispered, taking the pill from his brother's hand.
The older nodded sympathetically, handing Ethan a glass of water.
Once Ethan had swallowed the pill – his throat didn't seem too sore yet, mercifully – Cal made sure he was warm and settled under the blanket, and that he had enough pillows and tissues.
"Sleep well, Eth, I'll see you later."
Cal arrived home to find the apartment submerged in darkness, Ethan sleeping soundly on the sofa. Once the older had groped around the wall for the light switch, he was met with the sight of his brother curled up under a blanket, his features soft and his chest rising and falling evenly as he slept. Ethan's face was still very much pale, but at least some of the stress and worry seemed to have left his face in his sleep.
Knowing how much of a light sleeper he was, Cal decided to leave the younger be and headed into the kitchen to make himself some dinner.
This soon proved to be a very unreliable solution, however; Cal should've known better than to clatter pots and pans around when Ethan was sleeping.
"Sorry, Eth. You feeling any better?" said Cal.
The blonde stumbled into the kitchen, looking even more pale and shaky than before. He shook his head.
Cal watched in concern as Ethan shakily took a glass from the cupboard and moved to the sink to fill it up. He seemed to struggle with pulling the tap, his hand trembling quite noticeably. Cal watched as Ethan closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, and tried to work out whether the younger was trying to calm his frustrations in not being able to simply turn the tap on, or if he was just feeling really ill.
The older stepped in anyway, gently taking the glass from his brother's hand and filling it up for him. He handed the glass to Ethan, then placed the back of his hand to the younger's forehead, checking his temperature again. "You're still hot," he murmured, "take some more paracetamol."
"Maybe in a minute…" Ethan took in a small breath and took a tentative sip from the glass. Almost immediately, Cal saw his face noticeably blanch. He knew his brother well enough to predict the next happening.
Cal grabbed the glass and pushed Ethan to the sink. Just in time.
Ethan decided that there was nothing more miserable than lying, shivering under a blanket on the sofa, feeling incredibly ill, with a sick bucket on the floor and nothing but Cal's Friends boxset (it was marginally better than the Die Hard one) for entertainment. He'd barely gotten any sleep last night, mostly because he'd been sat up against his headboard with an empty bowl in his lap, his stomach refusing to settle its teasing until the early hours of the morning. Even then, he'd been too restless and feverish to get more than 15 minutes' sleep at a time. He'd also started coughing though, leaving his throat burning and making in incredibly difficult to breathe whilst lying down, what with his already blocked nose.
Cal kept popping in with glasses of juice and bowls of soup and, although Ethan found it rather touching, he might have appreciated it more if his head would stop pounding every time Cal spoke and his stomach didn't feel as though it was trying to turn itself inside out. Being mothered was also frustrating – especially when Cal attempted to cheer him up while all Ethan wanted was for his nose to stop running so that it would be easier for him to lie down and sulk under his blanket.
"Right, Eth, I better head off," Cal said as Ethan wiped his nose on yet another tissue. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" The older sat himself on the arm of the sofa.
"I've been ill before, Cal," Ethan said congestedly, sighing and rubbing his forehead.
"I know," said Cal, stroking Ethan's arm when he sneezed twice. "Bless you. Do you want to try some decongestants again, buddy?"
Ethan groaned. "They don't work," he blew his nose, "and neither does that…"
Cal smiled. "Have you got plenty of tissues, then?" he stroked his hair.
The younger nodded, pulling his blanket up to his chin and coughing into a scrunched up tissue.
"That doesn't sound good," Cal frowned, rubbing his brother's back.
"Started last night…" Ethan whispered, sniffing and clearing his throat. He leant his head back on to Cal's leg.
"Do you want me to leave your inhaler out for you?" Cal said, growing slightly concerned when Ethan started coughing again. He put his hands on the younger's shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.
Ethan brought his hand up to meet one of Cal's. "Yes, please." He whispered once his coughing had died down.
Cal stroked his hair, "back in a minute, Eth," he jumped up from the sofa.
Ethan grabbed a tissue from the table, covered his face with it, then closed his eyes and flopped back on to the sofa, wincing slightly when the movement jostled his stomach. Ethan groaned when he felt a sneeze coming, but he managed to stop it. He really didn't want to upset his stomach any further.
"There we go," Cal deposited the blue inhaler on the coffee table. "Please will you call me if you start to get really wheezy, Eth? I don't like the idea of you sitting here struggling on your own."
Ethan nodded. "I will. I don't think I'm coughing too badly yet, though. I might not even need my inhaler."
"I know you're not as bad as when you were little," Cal sighed. "Just make sure you use it if you need it."
"I will, Cal," Ethan said, looking him in the eye.
"Alright…" Cal sighed.
Ethan could see how reluctant his brother was to leave him on his own. "Caleb, I'm 29 years old-"
"Only just," Cal interrupted.
"Yes, well, even if I was still 28 years old, I would be perfectly capable of looking after myself, as I am now. So stop fussing and just go to work, you can come back at lunch if you feel you really need to." Ethan rubbed his forehead.
Cal felt distinctly guilty for having worsened Ethan's headache, his brother needed some peace and quiet so that he could rest, not Cal fussing around him all day. "Okay, I'm leaving…"
"Well, don't you look delightful," said Cal sarcastically, dumping his bag on the carpet.
"Mmmm," Ethan looked disapprovingly at the abandoned article, "I've been sick a lot, can't seem to keep anything down."
Cal sat down next to him, locating Ethan's knee under the blankets and resting his hand there. "I do hope you've swilled that bowl out," he gestured to the table.
"Haven't needed it yet," Ethan sighed, closing his eyes and holding a cushion to his chest. "I've managed to make it to the bathroom three times, thought I'd try and save myself the trouble of washing up for once."
Cal smiled. "Would it be a stupid question to ask if you were feeling any better?"
The younger dropped his head on to his brother's shoulder, nodding his head through a yawn.
Cal rested a hand on his forehead. "You're burning up, bud."
"Can't take anymore medicine until 8…" Ethan mumbled, closing his eyes.
"I'll go and fetch a damp cloth in a minute then." Cal patted his shoulder. "C'mon, don't fall asleep on me, Nibbles."
"Mmmm, how was work today?" Ethan squinted up at him, "I hope you weren't too short staffed."
"There's not a lot we can do about that in your current condition," Cal smiled. "There are a few others off, winter bugs and that, but it's not unbearable."
Ethan sighed. "I can't remember a winter where I haven't come down with something at least twice." He started coughing.
Cal rubbed his back. "I don't think there's ever been one. I'm ready and waiting for the tonsillitis that knocks you down for a week - You alright?"
Ethan nodded, sniffling. "Don't say that," he whispered, letting his eyes slip shut again. He rubbed his nose harshly on a tissue, trying to avert a sneeze. The younger felt Cal's hands stroking through his hair, "that's nice," he sniffed, leaning back into Cal's hands.
Cal carried on, feeling how soft Ethan's hair was without the presence of any gel. He snickered affectionately, "your fringe is all floppy."
The younger groaned, jolting forwards slightly and stifling a couple of sneezes into his tissue. Ethan wrapped an arm around his stomach, "can you get the bowl, Cal?" he breathed, turning away and muffling another sneeze into the tissue.
Ethan closed his eyes, feeling his stomach churn. He felt himself pitching forward slightly as his head gave a particularly strong protest of dizziness, but Cal's hands were steadying him almost immediately.
"Are you okay?" he said urgently. Ethan could picture the worried look on his face.
Squeezing his eyes shut tighter, the younger shook his head, strengthening his grip on Cal's forearms. Ethan swallowed audibly and, after a few deep breaths, he thought that he had gained at least a modicum of control back.
Of course, it was then that his stomach decided to flip again and Ethan was very, very glad that Cal had the bowl ready in front of him.
"Alright, buddy," the older attempted to sooth him, rubbing large circles up and down Ethan's back. "It's okay. You've just managed to catch yourself a really nasty flu bug, haven't you?"
Ethan's only response was a strangled gasp as he continued to empty his stomach into the bowl.
Cal gently patted his back. "Alright…" he whispered.
Eventually Ethan stopped retching. He grabbed a tissue and leant back against the sofa, closing his eyes as a tear snaked its way down his cheek.
Cal looked on sympathetically; vomiting had always taken a lot out of Ethan. The younger eyed Cal with sad, wet eyes, looking pale and drained. Cal wrapped an arm around his teary brother, balancing the bowl on his knee. Just in case. "It's okay, Nibbles."
Within seconds, Ethan bolted upright again, his hand flying to his mouth. "Bowl, Cal," he gulped.
Cal's hand nearly knocked the bucket to the floor in his haste to get it to Ethan. The younger swallowed hard and took a few shaky breaths through his nose before relaxing and feebly pushing the bowl away.
Cal offered him a glass of water. "You okay?" he asked warily.
Ethan nodded carefully, taking small sips from the glass so he didn't upset his delicate stomach.
"Hang on a sec, I'm going to go and wash this out" said Cal, jumping up from the sofa with the bowl in tow.
He came back in a few minutes later with a cold cloth as promised earlier.
"Thanks, Cal," Ethan whispered, leaning back into the sofa and closing his eyes as Cal lay the cloth over his forehead. "Where's the bowl?" he rasped.
"It's just on the drying rack, are you going to be OK without it for a few minutes?" Cal sat on the sofa beside his brother.
"I think so," the younger replied, letting his head slip on to Cal's shoulder.
"How's your chest?" Cal inquired.
Ethan screwed his eyes shut, fidgeting a bit to try and attain a more comfortable position. "No worse than when you came at lunch," he whispered.
"But still worse than this morning?"
Ethan nodded faintly, grabbing a tissue from the box beside him and wiping his nose. He quickly raised his other hand to his face when he felt something in his chest shift, and coughed painfully until his head had sunk into his knees. Ethan let out a small whine of discomfort, but left his head where it was as Cal rubbed his back.
"How about we call it quits for today, buddy?" Cal said softly. "You can come and kip in my bed if you like?"
Cal didn't think Ethan's frown of disapproval had been called for. The two of them had shared a room until Ethan was 16, after all.
The younger suddenly burst into the beginnings of another coughing fit, which was all it took to get him to agree to Cal's proposal.