Hiccup opened his eyes, comprehending that it was dark outside. When he'd fallen asleep, light had still shown through the curtains. A vague memory of his father closing the blinds hoping the lack of light would help as he slept. As his mind woke up, he realized that a slightly damp cloth laid against his face. It had fallen from his forehead while he'd turned over a number of times. He could feel himself still shaking uncontrollably, however he felt slightly better than he had earlier.
Glancing at the clock on the desk, it told him it was two in the morning. He'd slept at least eight hours. Shifting slightly under the blankets into a comfortable position again, he took in a deep breath. Honestly, he was surprised at how…uneventful he was feeling. Yes, he was shaking, and he was soaked in sweat. However, he felt as though he were holding onto the flu verses the more than likely Covid illness. Considering his father had horrible symptoms, Hiccup felt that his seemed somewhat mild in reality so far.
"Ah, you are awake." He hadn't realized his father was standing in the doorway, apparently watching him sleep.
"Yeah," he said, his voice breaking slightly. He sat up sluggishly, and his father met him at the bed, taking a seat across from him, and pushing a bottle of water into his hand.
"I figured you'd be waking soon," his father said quietly, reaching his hand up to Hiccup's damp forehead. Hiccup could see the worry on his father's face as he smoothed back the matted locks. "I've been monitoring, and I thought your fever was starting to break over an hour ago - "
Hiccup interrupted his father's thought with a deep sigh. "Dad, how many fevers came and broke for us with you?" Even though he was hopeful that perhaps this was it, he wanted to be realistic. He had watched his father's fevers break at least half a dozen times over a week's time. He didn't want his father holding onto false hope.
"Plenty." He watched his father shutter at the thought of the week prior. "Here, take these." More medication was placed into his hand, and shortly there-after, they confirmed his fever had broken, and was actually back below 101.
Hiccup felt - empty. His stomach was in a small knot, and it was then he realized he hadn't eaten anything solid. As the realization came, his stomach gurgled.
"Ah, hungry," his father said, and with that he left the room.
Hiccup was left with his thoughts, and he pulled a blanket around himself to keep the shaking at bay. After checking his phone, he saw the missed calls from Astrid that afternoon, and then the text message that she'd sent him just a few hours ago:
10:43 PM - FEEL BETTER, HICCUP. OXOX
Apparently, she knew, somehow. Perhaps his father had called her, or she called him when she wasn't able to talk to him. He felt his stomach give another jolt at the thought of disappointing her. Being sick was out of his control but he still felt bad. He wanted to see her, and hold her tightly and not let go.
His father returned with a single slice of buttered toast on a paper plate. Hiccup reached for it, and took a small bite. Chewing it quickly, he took another bite, and then another. Once the slice was gone he realized his father had been staring at him.
"Taste all right?" he asked Hiccup.
Hiccup nodded. "Tastes like toast."
After the last bite was gone, his father asked, "Care for another?"
Hiccup nodded, then started to push himself up out of bed. Seeing the look of worry on his father's face, he said, "I need to get up." He was weak on his crutch, that was for sure, and instead he slipped his arm through the second for better leverage. Even though his father hovered as he went to the bathroom, he chose to ignore him and finish his business. He chose to wash his face off in the sink, hoping that doing this would help rid him of the gross, sticky feeling he was covered in just slightly.
He then went to the kitchen, where he saw his father was placing jelly on this slice of toast. He felt his stomach sink slightly. He knew his father was trying to make sure he had his sense of taste. He could smell the burnt inside of the toaster as it wafted in the air.
"I can taste the strawberry just fine; don't be too concerned," he told his father following his first few bites.
It wasn't long later he chose to take a shower. The sticky feeling and the smell of salt lingering along his body was already unbearable. While his father changed out the sheets on his bed, he dressed in a pair of sweat pants, and decided to layer up with a t-shirt and a light zip up just in case. Then, he felt as though his strength had dive bombed instantly there after, and went back to bed, nearly falling asleep instantly.
…
Without purposely doing so, he had ignored Astrid's text messages into the previous day. Each time he heard his phone vibrate, he winced. Even though he knew he was going to have to break the news to her about their date they had been planning, he was holding off doing so.
Then, while he was sitting in bed finishing up his essay for Mr. Bryce, he heard his phone vibrate again on the nightstand, and this time he looked at it.
4:45 PM - HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO ASK YOU TO NOT SHUT ME OUT?
He had been, and he felt more guilt web over him. She had asked him not to, and here he was doing it as he had before. He resisted the urge just to turn off the phone, yet again, and shove it back into a drawer. Instead, he pushed the call button, and let the phone ring. Astrid picked up just as the second ring was ending.
"About time," she said, a hint of anger in her voice. He felt a small wave of calmness run over him, despite her sharpness
"I am sorry," he said.
He heard a giggle. "It's okay. I know you haven't been feeling well…" She went on immediately about how she had been helping her mother with the flower beds around the house, in an attempt to enjoy some fresh air but still be away from everyone. She was in such a chipper mood, and it was spreading through him. How could he have ignored her? Her voice and upbeat attitude was what he needed to hear right then.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"I could be way worse," he said, saving his essay and closing his laptop. "So far, it's a pretty mild case. Feels a lot like I have the flu."
"So, way better shape than your father's case, then?"
Hiccup nodded, and confirmed verbally, "Yes, so far."
"I called your dad last night apparently after you'd fallen asleep. He told me what was going on - and that his case had come back positive."
Hiccup sighed, and a slight ping of guilt and anger flashed through him. Guilt because he had not responded to her calls and texts, and anger because his father had done his dirty work for him.
"It's all right, Hiccup," Astrid said to him, pulling him out of his thoughts. "You can't control this."
"I know I shouldn't feel bad because of this, but I do."
Astrid let out a small sigh. "Hiccup, this too will pass. I know it's hard. Trust me, I'm going stir-crazy. Being in this house, just having the television, my phone, and my computer for company…But, I look forward to being free of this and being with you."
Hiccup gnawed on the inside of his cheek. "I feel like it's been a solid two months since life was normal."
A pause, and then, "That is pretty accurate. Try to stay positive, please. There will be daylight again. I promise."
Hiccup smiled a bit, and agreed. "Eventually, yes."
"You don't sound very convincing."
Hiccup rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry if I am being pessimistic about this. I'm just really tired of dealing with this whole pandemic. I'm tired of being around sickness, I am tired of this house - " Hiccup stopped his voice from growing louder with every word. He ran his hand over his face, then let out another deep sigh. "I need to finish this paper - "
"I need to go help my mom. She just called for me from downstairs."
Hiccup nodded. "When I talk to you later I'll try to be in a much better mood. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Astrid said. He heard her wince into the phone. "Mom's calling me again." Her voice sounded rushed.
"Go be with her and I will talk to you later on, okay? Love you."
"I love you." And with that, they hung up.
…
Stoick had thought Hiccup had gotten luckier than he had. The boy hadn't had a horrible time with the virus. At least, so it appeared to be earlier in the day. Night had come, and after dinner Hiccup became weak again.
"I feel like I was just hit by a truck out of no where," he indicated as Stoick assisted him back towards his room. After helping him back into bed, and checking in on him again an hour afterwards, his fever had shot up, and a cough had developed almost out of no where.
Stoick wanted Hiccup tested. Having the confirmation would help ease his mind. But, the testing was so backed up, and it was clear that the results would possibly come after the end of treatment and symptoms…or close to it. Up until the coughing started, they didn't see the need to ise the inhaler. However now that he was, Stoick insisted that Hiccup take advantage of it since it was available.
"Are you still sure you don't want to go to the drive up clinic?" Stoick asked his son again as he felt along his forehead and cheeks.
Hiccup nodded, and they waited for the thermometer to beep.
The phone on the side table vibrated, and Hiccup's eyes closed, and he winced.
"Easy there, lad," his father said to him.
Hiccup shook his head. "It's not that, Dad."
"Not, what?"
Hiccup cleared his throat a bit. "Astrid." He used his lips and tongue to readjust the thermometer, and Stoick had to hold back his tongue from telling Hiccup to stop. The boy was seventeen. He was old enough to know to not mess with it.
A moment later, it beeped, and before Hiccup could snatch it away Stoick took possession of it.
102.6. It was Stoick's turn to sigh. Was it accurate after Hiccup had messed with it? Either way, Stoick was confident that his son's fever was at the very minimum every bit that high. He glanced at the alarm clock. Hiccup couldn't take anymore medication for at least another two hours.
Stoick decided to try a different approach with Hiccup. "C'mon, let's go - "
"Dad - "
"C'mon, we are going to go to the clinic - "
"Dad, I'm fine." However, despite Hiccup's objection, he was still sitting up in his bed, and edging over the edge.
"You aren't horribly off right now, but put your old man's mind at ease, okay?" Surely, Hiccup couldn't be making this that easy. His stubborn son, although still sighing and groaning in objection, was slowly pulling on a warmer hoodie, and with Stoick's help, slipping into a nicer pair of sweat pants.
Ten minutes later, Hiccup was on his crutches and heading out towards the car. Stoick had called the clinic to confirm to them they were coming. The woman on the other end was very nice. They'd be cutting it close but promised that since they'd called that she would be sure to be there for them if they arrived a few minutes after they closed.
During the drive, Hiccup had his seat leaned back, his arm over his eyes to drown out the street lights. He mentioned his head was starting to pound. Stoick sighed, and hoped that they could get some answers.
Masking up, Stoick pulled up to the drive-up clinic, and the woman he'd spoken with was standing outside holding a clip board. After asking questions, explaining to her that he'd had bloodwork done while he'd been sick, and had gotten the confirmation, that they were concerned about Hiccup. She asked Stoick about some of Hiccup's medical history, asked how long he'd had the symptoms, and also when he'd gotten worse. Outside of the second wave of weakness and the fever, the only thing that had changed now was the coughing.
Hiccup confirmed to them that he'd had a test done weeks back, and confirmed that he'd been negative then for Covid. Then, it came time to mask down, and Hiccup tilted his head back and allowed them to test him again. Like last time, his nose bled slightly, and the sensation caused him to cough a little bit as well.
They then asked what prescriptions Hiccup was on currently, and after explaining to them that a doctor had prescribed what he had due to Hiccup's symptoms, they didn't prescribe or give him anything different than what he already had.
"If anything changes please give us a call. We will have the results back within the seven to ten days."
Hiccup glared at his father. "A lot of good that did." He was still holding the wadded up tissue paper to a section of his nose. "On the flip side at least we know that John prescribed the right stuff."
"Tone, Hiccup," Stoick found himself say. "On the flip side, you were able to get out of the house."
"I probably should have just stayed in bed…"
Stoick sighed, wondering if Hiccup was right about that one. However, he did feel better knowing that a test was pending, and at least if it was positive the doctor would be informed and it could be placed into Hiccup's medical history.
"I'm assuming you don't just want to go for a drive?" Stoick asked. "Since we are out, and we are just staying inside the car…Maybe some fresh air and a new scenery will - "
"Honestly, can we just go home?" Hiccup brought a stop to that.
"Of course," Mr. Vast said with a sigh. And he turned at the stop light to head towards the house.
Hiccup immediately headed to his room, and Stoick heard the door creek after he entered. Glancing down the hallways, he saw that the door was mostly closed, again. He'd go check on him in a while. He knew he needed to process a little bit, and have some space. It was the only thing he knew to do for him right then, other than to continue to encourage him to medicate and hydrate.
He text Katherine and let her know what was going on presently, then decided to busy himself with a file or two for a little while until it was time to go check on Hiccup again.
….
Hiccup couldn't sleep. He was absolutely exhausted, however, every fifteen or twenty minutes he'd wake up and feel the need to turn over, or reposition his pillows. Even though he was certain he was comfortable, he'd wake up with the urge to turn over. Then, it would take another ten or fifteen minutes to fall asleep again.
He felt hot, and cold, and hot all over again. He'd taken off his zip-up and eventually stripped down to just his boxers again. Coughing began rattling him, and the chills were becoming unbearable.
"I just want to sleep," he whispered to himself.
He'd drifted off again, but woke suddenly when he felt the bed sink. His father was beside him, leaning over his torso to check on him again.
"Easy, his father said, reaching a hand across him and feeling his sweaty cheek. His hand came to rest on Hiccup's forehead again. A sigh escaped, and then his father left the room again.
Another cool, damp cloth was pressed to his forehead, and he was encouraged to turn back over onto his back to better gauge his now raging fever more closely.
104.3.
Fever reducer was pushed, more water, and then a cold compress was pressed against his chest. It made him shutter but even in his now delirium he knew they needed to work fast on getting his fever down.
An hour later, and he dozing off a time or two, his father sighed once the thermometer beeped again.
"103," he said with a sigh, relief washing over him with the lower temperature.
"Good," Hiccup said, pushing himself to sit up. He could see his dad object, but he shook his head. "I can't rest. I am so uncomfortable."
"What can I do to help?" his father asked.
Hiccup shook his head. "I don't know."
"How about we try the couch or the chair?" his father suggested. "It's a little cooler out there."
After getting Hiccup settled on the couch, Mr. Vast then brought him a popsicle to hopefully continue to bring down the fever. He sat with Hiccup for a few minutes, feeling his nerves teetering between being calm and wanting to scream out of worry and frustration.
Hiccup pulled his thoughts away. "Am I a better patient than you?" He could see the knowing look on Hiccup's exhausted face, and Mr. Vast laughed.
"I admit, you are taking to being a patient better than I did."
"Lots and lots of practice," Hiccup said to him, lifting his leg up under the light sheet his father had placed over him.
Even then, Mr. Vast felt sorry for his son. The kid had always gotten sick as a child. No matter what they did he always ended up with the flu or some bug going around when he was a child. It had gotten better the older Hiccup had gotten. The accident Hiccup had just reinforced his need to be seen by some medical expert quite regularly.
An hour later, Hiccup seemed to relax more, and had curled himself up onto his side to rest. He was no longer thrashing to get comfortable, nor was he sweating so horribly. Mr. Vast placed his hand up to his forehead again, noting the fever did break again. He sighed, and debated. Eventually, he made up his mind, and decided to take residence up in the recliner while Hiccup slept, what appeared to be peacefully, on the living room couch.
…
Sorry for the lack up update. I cannot believe I started this story two years ago and I am still going with it. Seems like I started this, maybe, six months ago. Time does fly.
Hubs and I actually ended up with Covid at the end of January. I never get a fever, and I had one, and spent that night incredibly edgy with anxiety, and then going to bed just was not working out. Hiccup's symptoms in this chapter reflect the experience I had. My sister shared the same experience when she had Covid the week prior to myself. Aaron had what mimicked a sinus infection but tested positive longer than I did.
I do not wish Covid on anyone.
