Disclaimer: I do not own Cabin Pressure and am not making any profit by writing about it.
Warning: Possible spoilers for the whole series.
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Cabin Pressure:
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God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen, Part 4
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Updated today to celebrate the new season which starts tonight! Squee!
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Douglas stood leaning against the doorframe to his guestroom, watching Martin sleep. He was still white-faced and looked wretched, but he´d hopefully be feeling better soon. Seeing him so ill and dazed was scary, and Douglas wouldn´t have expected it to affect him so strongly.
Arthur had been even more distraught, but the doctor whom Douglas had called seemed to have reassured him. It had been an old pal from university, back in the days when Douglas had been a medical student. They had kept contact on a fairly regular basis, which had come in handy on this very day. Geoffrey had been there within half an hour, and it was as Douglas had guessed: Martin had the flu, a severe case, not simply a bad cold.
"The vomiting has very likely been stemming from his inner ear being affected by the infection," Geoffrey had explained to Douglas and an anxious Arthur, "which is causing vertigo, which in turn leads to nausea."
He had given Martin an injection for the nausea and written a prescription for antibiotics, antipyretics and cough drops. The rest was common knowledge: make sure he keeps warm, drinks a lot of liquids, eats something. Keep an eye on his temperature.
"Be careful that he doesn´t take the pills on an empty stomach. And if he isn´t getting any better within the next two days, call me again," Geoffrey said when he left. "Merry Christmas."
Arthur had offered to go and get the prescriptions as well as some stuff from the shops; Douglas hadn´t done the shopping yet when his ex-wife called him about his daugther, and he hadn´t bothered to afterwards. But now that he had a task, things were looking up. At least he wasn´t going to be alone, now that Helena had moved in with her Tai Chi teacher.
It was getting dark outside; Douglas went into the room and turned on the lamp on the nightstand, then he sat down on the edge of the bed. He wondered to which extent Martin would be terrified later on, embarrassed by a situation he hadn´t had any control over. Douglas hoped that his friend would be able to accept the whole matter as a friendly turn which had nothing to do with their professional relationship.
His thoughts turned to Jessie once more, and from her to Mary Ann, who had been his first wife; of course he had disappointed her numerous times, and he sort of understood why she kept her distance. But he didn´t see why she didn´t trust him to sufficiently care for his daughter; she had a cold, nothing as dire as Martin´s illness from what Mary Ann had told him.
Jessie was only supposed to have stayed for two bloody nights, he would certainly have managed. He missed her; usually, he was very good at hiding it, at suppressing the thought that his little girl was growing up without him being a daily presence in her life. On the days on which he didn´t manage too well, he barricaded himself behind an armour of sarcasm. It wasn´t good, but it was better than drinking his worries away. He never wanted to go back to that, since he knew that he would very likely never see Jessie again if he relapsed into alcoholism.
Sighing, he turned his attention back to Martin. A few strands of hair were plastered to his clammy forehead, and he occasionally coughed in his sleep. Apart from that, he lay still, his features tense and as ashen as before.
Douglas pulled the duvet up a little further and tucked it more thoroughly around his friend´s bony shoulders, then he got up and went to get a cloth and a bit of water; his mother had used to cool his forehead when he had been ill, and he still remembered how good it felt.
Arthur was standing in the queue at Sainsbury´s, surrounded by last-minute shoppers. He once more checked the list Douglas had given him, making sure he hadn´t forgotten anything.
He tried not to think about Martin, or at least not about how they had found him. Skip had looked so terribly sick, Arthur´s heart clenched at the notion that he had been alone like that and would still be, hadn´t he and Douglas interfered. And he was quite glad that Douglas had broken the window.
He flinched when his phone rang; it was his mother.
"We are back," she said, "It´s a quarter to six, where are you?"
"I´m at Sainsbury´s," Arthur replied, trying not to speak too loud so as not to disturb the people around him.
"What- today? Why didn´t you go yesterday, or on the day before, as you said?"
"I did! I got everything you wrote on the list, but something happened."
Carolyn hesitated only minutely: "Why, what do you mean?"
Arthur pushed the trolley a little further: "You know how I went shopping the other day? Well, there was a woman who was collecting money for the-"
Carolyn interrupted him: "Arthur dear, a few less details."
Arthur paused; he had been taught to begin at the beginning if he told someone something, and it was more difficult to cut down to the important bits if people didn´t know the circumstances.
But on the other hand, Mum knew Martin and where he lived and that he didn´t get paid- of course she knew that, so he really could make it short: "Douglas and I broke into Martin´s house because the sad dog reminded me of him- Skip, not Douglas- and he was alone and very ill. The doctor said if he doesn´t get better in the next two days, we might need to call him again."
"Er." Carolyn tried to make sense of it. "Martin is ill and Douglas is with him?"
"Yes."
"And you are out shopping for him?"
"For Douglas, yes, because he hasn´t done any shopping yet, because Jessie´s not coming. She´s ill as well, you see."
"Wait, wait. Why are you shopping for Douglas then?"
Arthur subdued a sigh; usually, his mum was very good at understanding him, but she didn´t seem to catch up. "Because Martin couldn´t stay alone and now he is at Douglas´ house and Douglas hasn´t done the shopping."
"Oh! I see."
"Mum, I really need to call off now, I´ll be at the till next."
"When are you coming home?"
"I don´t know, I´ll call you if it´s getting late."
"What, so you won´t be home for dinner tonight? On Christmas Eve?"
Arthur felt bad about it, but he was too worried about Martin: "I´m sorry, Mum, I know it´s tradition, but Martin´s really ill," he said, "he couldn´t even stand without help, and he was kind of... what´s the word with 'l' if someone´s slow and unresponsive?"
"Lethargic?"
"Yes, that. I´d rather stay with him, see if I can help."
Carolyn relented; it did sound serious enough after all. "All right. Call me if you need anything. And say hello to the other two, will you? Especially Martin."
"Thanks, I will- bye Mum!"
After she had rung off, Carolyn shook her head; who´d have thought. She hadn´t expected anything less from Arthur, but Douglas... who´d have thought indeed.
When Arthur arrived at Douglas´ house, Douglas was still sitting with Martin, who had been completely unresponsive even when his friend had applied the cold cloth to his forehead. Douglas was glad about Arthur´s presence; not that he wasn´t able to cope, but it was nice to have help.
Which speaks in favour of families, he thought, sadly. Not being alone in a situation like this does have quite the appeal, after all.
Arthur looked flustered. "How is he doing?" he asked, peering into the guestroom.
"Not terribly good," Douglas said quietly, getting to his feet. "Come on, I´ll show you to the kitchen."
Arthur carefully put the bags down on the counter:"My mum just called. She says hello."
"Oh, are they back?" Douglas kept his tone neutral, and Arthur being Arthur didn´t notice that he was biting his tongue not to say something unfriendly. Now that Herc seemed to be a rather inherent part in Carolyn´s – and therefore also Arthur´s – life, the first officer tried not to let it on that it nettled him. What exactly, he couldn´t say, it just did.
Silently, they took the groceries out of the bags and Douglas began to put them away. Arthur had indeed managed not to forget anything, which was a plus and a first.
"Martin needs to eat something, he can´t take the medicine on an empty stomach," Douglas murmured while he scanned the package inserts of the pills. "Okay, these first and those half an hour after each meal. I think for now we can make the exception not to wait that long."
"Do you think he´ll keep something down at all?" Arthur asked, still unusually subdued.
"I should hope so; he´s got a shot for it, after all."
Douglas mixed some Ginger Ale with water and opened a packet of lightly salted crackers which he put on a tray, together with the medication: "I´ll go and wake Martin. You look like you could do with some food as well, Arthur. What do you say I´ll whip us something up once I´m done here?"
"Yeah, I suppose that´d be good," Arthur consented, downcast.
"You can make yourself useful then and chop up some peppers and an onion. Cutting board's over there in the drawer, knife in the drawer above it."
"Yeah..."
Douglas had an inkling where this was coming from, but he postponed dealing with it till later; first, he had to take care of their patient.
Martin didn´t wake up easily; he was confused and needed a moment to find his bearings.
"You´re in my house," Douglas said, "a doctor saw you and confirmed that you have the flu."
Martin blinked: "A doctor?" His voice was very hoarse. Douglas regretted having had to wake him, but on the other hand, Martin would very likely go back to sleep in an instant, and his shirt was already slightly damp again, he´d be better off once he had ingested some food and the appropriate medicine.
"An old friend of mine," Douglas explained, "known him for thirty years."
"Thank you," Martin croaked, "I´ll pay you back for everything..."
"Stop worrying about that for now. You need to eat a little, so you can take something for the infection and the fever," Douglas said.
"Can´t eat," Martin groaned, because he was still feeling nauseous.
"Let´s just give it a try," Douglas said gently, "maybe you´re also nauseous because your stomach is empty."
Martin doubted that, but contradicting Douglas seemed too much effort, and he really was keen on taking whichever pills Douglas had for him if only they were going to make him better; the Ibuprofen didn´t seem to have helped. He just hoped that the other pills hadn´t been too expensive.
"Can you sit up?" Douglas asked.
Martin managed to push himself into a remotely upright position, but he was shaking all over. Douglas sat down next to him and handed him the glass; Martin took a few tentative sips at first, but then he drank the rest as well, realizing how thirsty he was. He ate a few crackers, and when after ten minutes his stomach hadn´t protested and the nausea had indeed lessened slightly, Douglas got up to get some more water, and handed him the pills.
Martin was utterly relieved to be able to lie down again afterwards.
Douglas stayed with him for a while longer, wanting to make sure that his friend was all right for the moment. If Martin minded, he didn´t let it on. His blood-shot eyes closed almost of their own account, and he didn´t react when Douglas dabbed at his forehead with the cold cloth once more.
Soon, his breathing evened out, only interrupted by the occasional cough.
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To Be Continued
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Author´s notes: I have made the names of Douglas´first wife and his daughter up. So far they haven't been mentioned in the series, but hey! Tonight's the night! I'm so excited!
Thank you all for reading and especially to those who dropped a few words. It's rather disappointing to see how many people read a story but don't comment on it, so every single review is very much appreciated.