Sick. Sick sick sick sick sick. Hal was sick. Gross sick. Fever and trembling and nausea that rolled up into a giant ball of eww.
Hal moaned like a dying man, shoved his face into his pillow, and blindly fumbled for his phone by his bedside table. There was a thud of something falling to the ground and hopefully not breaking before Hal's fingers wrapped around his highly advanced flip phone and yanked it beside his head.
The first thing he needed to do was not go to work. Face firmly planted in his pillow: right arm and both legs eagle spread over his covers, Hal used his left hand to speed dial Carol.
"Heeeeey. I can't come to work. 'M sick."
Carol sighed, and Hal could visualize her running a hand over his face. Sorry, boss.
"Are you sure?'
Hal almost laughed because Carol good and well knew that he would come to work even if he wasn't feeling well, so if he wasn't coming in now then of course he was feeling pretty awful.
"'M pretty sure, yeah."
"Fine. Let me know when you're feeling better."
"'M'kay."
Hal jabbed a thumb to turn off the device and accidentally turned on speaker phone before successfully ending the call.
Now what. Hal shivered, squirming under the covers despite having been burning up seconds ago. He probably had to go somewhere. He was low on food he could make right now, and if he got too bad he might be stuck relying on his ring to feed him and keep his fever down.
Which was possible, but rather looked-down-upon as it crossed into the moral gray area of using the ring for unnecessary life support.
Also, Hal just hated being alone when he was sick. His mind would wander like crazy, and it usually didn't go nice places.
Except when he remembered his dad. Hal grinned through the shaking, mind swept into being six years old, his father walking into his room with a wry grin on his face. The memory was doused in silver light; shades of white and grey.
Little Hal had the flu, and was actually bedridden for once. His father was here though, and he would make things better.
"Pretty sick, huh, bud?" Martin asked, pushing up Hal's bangs to lay a hand on Hal's forehead. Hal wondered how warm he felt to his dad, who clicked his tongue before pulling away.
Hal tried to sit up but ended up making himself sick, throwing up into the trash can by his bed. When he collapsed again, his dad ran a cold washcloth over his face to clean him off and everything was safe and good…
Hal frowned, starting to toss as his mind wandered to being 15 and sick again, but locked in his room because he shouldn't make the rest of the house sick and maybe if he was lucky John would bring soup to his room even though his mom wanted his little brother to stay away in case he 'caught anything' so he might just need to go downstairs and make something for himself but he was so cold and it was so far away and he just didn't want to…
Hal shook himself and his hand tightened around the phone. Focus.
He flipped the device open again, and tried to decide between his contacts. Barry would let him come for sure, but he didn't want to bother him again and besides… he and Carol were an item, right? She'd be happy to let him stay - or at least put up with him, anyway. They were working towards an 'in sickness and in health', right?
"Hello again, Hal?"
"Umm, can I crash at your place? Pretty please?"
"Hal are you crazy? You know I have a board meeting coming up soon: I can't afford to get sick now. Look, I'm working, you've got to stop calling me. Get well soon, honey."
The dial tone sounded much louder than it normally did and Hal's headache was probably the direct cause of the lump in his throat.
Barry it was.
Hal hit the speed dial again, biting his lip nervously as the ringing went to voicemail, as usual. Hal hung up and waited before, sure enough, a few seconds later, Barry's caller ID lit up the screen.
"Sorry about that Hal: I had an experiment running and didn't get to my phone in time."
"Oh. I was just calling to say that I was kinda sick and needed a place to crash, but you sound busy so that's okay-"
"Hal, don't be ridiculous. Of course I can come get you - I'll just make up the time later." Barry's voice lowed a little as he continued, "We're just hunting the Flash right now anyway. I don't mind getting away."
Hal hummed a little, relief pooling in his chest as his death grip on the phone got a little looser.
"I'll come to get you as soon as I can get away. Hang on, buddy."
Hal collapsed against the bed, smile stealing over his face. This was good.