Last chapter on this little story. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! Enjoy!

Chapter 5.

These too familiar smells, these too familiar noises.

It took Conrad a few seconds to realize that he had not just slipped into a quick nap on one of the callroom-cots, but was actually lying in a real bed. Worse: in a sickbed. The shutters where drawn, only dim light from the ajar door lit the too familiar environment, but from this position it looked odd. He had lain in a hospital bed before, but it was always an unpleasant and too vulnerable position for him, he preferred standing in front of the bed taking care of the person in it.

But here he was, soft regular beeping showing that he was hocked up to a heart monitor, a gentle pull on his right wrist explained an IV. Conrad breathed deep and let his head sink into the soft pillow. How did he end up in this condition?

"Hey, you´re awake." A soft voice from his right side let him turn his head.

"Nic," his eyes softened as he lifted them to her. She was wearing her full nurses clothing and was adjusting his IV.
"Why am I here?" She smiled.

"The medication left you pretty rattled. Devon said it would be best to just let you sleep it off."

"You drugged me?" Nic caressed his disheveled hair with her cool hand, her lips forming a crooked smile.
"For your own best." she mocked.

"That's illegal," he mumbled, only half surprised.
He felt better, but still so tired that he could fall asleep again in a minute. He heard Nic snorting through the nose.

"Sleep a little bit more, it's still very early."

Conrad's eyes jumped open again. He had not noticed he had closed them.
"What time is it?"
"5:30".
"In the morning? You did let me sleep all night?"
He tried to sit up in a weak attempt, it was easy for her to push him down.

"That`s what normal people do at night."

Realization dawned on him.
"You are on night shift."

She stroked his hair back. How he loved this gesture.
"Sleep, Conrad. Your fevers better, but you still have to rest."

She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and turned to walk to the door. A look back showed her two brown halflidded eyes, half in frustration, half in sleep, finally giving in to what he realized as an important lesson: you don´t have to manage everything on your own.

A few hours later Conrad was seated on the edge of his bed, still pale but fully dressed in pants and T-shirt, and obviously not willing to stay in this hospital bed for any minute longer than absolutely necessary. Nic was just putting away the cables of the heart-monitor,
("All this monitoring was ridiculously unnecessary.") while Conrad started fumbling on the plaster holding the IV-needle in place.

"I´m not going to say it again, Conrad. Leave it alone!" Nic snarled at him.
"I´m taking the neddle out like Devon said, but you cannot seriously mean to do it by yourself."

Conrads mouth went tight, but he let his hand sink and let his gaze wander towards the window next to the ajar door. His face grew dark.
"Oh no," Nic followed his gaze. "My dad."

Marshall Winthrop's face appeared in the doorway. He looked very worried as he let his eyes slip over his son.

"I just heard you are here," he adressed Conrad.
With a soft voice he added: "Are you alright?"

Conrad breathed out. "I´m fine, dad. It´s nothing serious."

Marshall locked eyes with Nic. She answered the unasked question
"Just a bad case of a flu. He´s going to be ok."

She turned to Conrads wrist and started peeling off the plaster.
"Hold still".

But as she started pulling the one-inch needle from the sensitive skin around his vene Conrad squinted and turned his head away, a wave of nausea and dizzyness flodding over him.

Suddenly Marshall was at his side, grabbing his shoulder.
"Son?" he asked.

"Conrad?" another voice joined them.
"What happened?" Devon.

He felt fingers on his wrist, others pressing a small bandage to the place where the needle had pierced his vene.

"You want to lie down?" Conrad shook his head, not wanting to loose it again, but also to shake of the fog surrounding his vision.
"I´m ok."

"I didn´t know you where bad with needles." Nic said.
"Not when they are sticking in other people." Conrad answered dry.

"Marshall, would you give me some space?" Marshall stepped aside as Devon pulled his stethoscope from his neck, unceremoniously lifted Conrads shirt to check his heart. Conrad was still too occupied with breathing and not swaying that he didn´t give a comment on "how unneccessary" this was again.

Only when Devon reached for the blood pressure cuff and slang it around his arm he rolled his eyes.

"80 to 60, this fever really did take a toll on you."

Conrad said nothing. Devon locked eyes with Nic, quietly asking for her opinion. She shook her head slightly and subtly gave a shrug.

"I have your papers here, but you have to promise to stay in bed for at least another day." Devon announced resolutly.
"The fever is still messing up your circulation, and I don´t want to see you in the ER after some paramedics picked you up from the gutter."

Conrad watched him, his face unreadable. But Devon wasn´t finished yet.
"Take the antibiotics for five days, and during that time Stay. At. Home."

Conrad watched, then nodded once in defeat.

"I know the drill. But can I please leave now? This place is making me sick."
He provoked with one eye to his father. They all smiled.

"I get you a wheelchair."

Conrads face fell. "You must be kidding me."

"It´s hospital-policy." Devon announced with a devilish smile.
"I thought you knew the drill."

Fin