Human
(Day 27: Friday Evening)
Ben brings a hand to his head, "Where am I?" before he sees Aziz sitting in a chair on the other side of the room.
"You're in the nurse's office."
"What?" Ben widens his eyes and sits up from the bed, "I— I can't be here." before he slides himself off from the bed. "You've got to get me out of here."
"Ben." Aziz tries to reason, "You're sick. You need help."
"So, you brought me here?" He steadies himself by keeping a hand on the bed, "That nurse doesn't know about me— she doesn't know how to treat me. If she sees my temperature, then she's going to send me to the ER and they're going to kill me."
"I don't care what you are," Aziz stresses. "No one is going to kill you."
Ben frowns, "I'm human."
"Then you shouldn't have any problems, then, should you?" he remarks, but then he watches as Ben shakes his head and struggles to walk forward. "Your fever has weakened you. You need to get back onto the bed."
He falls to his knees and rests his arm on the end of the bed, as he leans his head against the side of the soft leather, "I'm so dead."
Aziz hears the muffled crying and stands to his feet, before he goes over to grab his arm, help him up, and seat him back onto the bed. He watches as Ben tries to wipe the tears away, "No one is going to kill you. You're my friend. I won't let that happen."
Ben looks at him, "You can't let them take me."
Aziz notices the hurt in Ben's eyes, and he can't help but compare it to that of a helpless, wounded puppy, "Don't worry. I won't let that happen."
Their eye contact breaks when the brown haired nurse enters the room. "I see you're awake." She stands in front of him, "How are you feeling?"
Ben doesn't answer, only turning his head away in response, so Aziz answers for him. "He was a little disorientated at first, but he's better now."
"Okay, then." The nurse takes the thermometer off of the wall, "Now that you're awake, we can check your temperature." She places the stick in front of Ben.
He stares at it for a second, before he looks up at her, "My parents have a legal right to know what's going on. Have you called them yet?"
"We tried," Sarah answers, "but we were unable to reach them."
Ben reaches for his pockets, but he finds them to have been emptied, "Where's my phone. They'll pick up for me."
"It's right there," the nurse points to the counter where his books also lay. "You can call them, but first I need you to take this." Ben rolls his eyes before leaning forward and taking the thermometer into his mouth, and all he can do is watch as the number on the wall increases more and more. "A hundred and five point three." The nurse looks at him worriedly, "With a fever like that you should really be in the emergency room right now."
"No," Ben panics, and he blinks a few times as he tries to steady his breathing. "I don't need the ER. I jus'— I just need some ibuprofen, or Tylenol, or anything really. Just give me something. Do you have anything like that?" The nurse moves over to a drawer, takes out a bottle, and when she returns she hands him a blue, gel pill. Ben widens his eyes and stresses, "One isn't going to do anything. I need three."
Nurse Sarah sets the water on the table, "A single dose is one pill. You're not supposed to take more than one every four to six hours."
"I don't care what the label says," Ben yells. "I need three. I always have three."
"You're getting one," the nurse yells back, before she shuts her eyes and continues in a calmer tone. "Sorry. It's policy. I need to follow the instructions on the label, or else I and this school are both viable for anything that happens to you."
"And if your king dies from a simple fever," Ben complains, "how do you think people are going to react to that?"
"Well, if your parents would just pick up, then you'd probably be in the emergency room right now and then it wouldn't even be an issue."
"You're right," Ben nods, before he finally swallows the pill he'd been given. "It wouldn't even be an issue. So, hand me my phone and I'll call her."
When the nurse hands Ben his phone he calls his mom, and it's only after two rings that she picks up, "Hey, honey. What's going on?"
"I'm in the nurse's office."
"The nurse's office," she worries. "Wh— what are you doing in a nurse's office."
It takes a second for him to confess, "I may have forgotten to take my medicine this morning, and I passed out in class."
"Well, honey. You need to be more careful."
"I know."
She nearly cuts him off, "Are you alright?"
Ben almost starts with saying yes, but he finds himself unable to, "The nurse only gave me one ibuprofen, and I'm unable to leave. She's talking about some nonsense of me going to the ER."
"Well, she's not doing that," his mother contests.
"Would you like to talk some sense into her?" he asks, and when she says yes he hands the phone to the nurse. "She'd like to speak with you."
"Yes?" Nurse Sarah answers. There's a long silence. "That's what he said too, but my hands are tied. I can't do that." A second later she responds, "I suppose if he had his own, then I could say I didn't know about it." There's more silence. "Wait. A hundred and one, but that's still too high." She places a hand to her hip, "Look. His temperature is at a hundred and five. Any more and he's at risk for brain damage. As a professional in the medical field, I highly recommend for you to let us send him to the hospital." There's another pause, before she slowly says, "Right. Yeah. I'll take care of him."
When Ben is handed the phone back he hears his mother ask, "Ben?" and he acknowledges his presence. "If she gives you any more trouble, then call us. Okay?"
"Yeah," Ben says into the phone. "Don't worry. I will."
He can hear the smile in her voice, "I love you. Get well now, and call me later."
"Okay." Ben attempts to smile back, "Thank you." and when he hangs up he questions the nurse. "What all did she tell you?"
The nurse shakes her head, "To trust you when you say you need something, to let you go when your fever gets back to a hundred and one, and that under no circumstances should I allow you to be taken to the emergency room." Ben nods. "She said you had your own medicine?"
Ben nods before turning to Aziz, "I have a blue bin under my bed. Can you go to my dorm and get me two more ibuprofen and a packet of Alka-Seltzer?"
He stands from his seat, "Yeah. Of course." before he hurries out of the room.
"Are you sure you should be taking all of that?" Aziz questions, as Ben takes in the fizziness of the Alka-Seltzer drink.
Ben smiles, "There's no need to worry. I take this every time my fever gets this high. It's fine." and when the fizz starts to settle he uses the drink to swallow the pills. "You could never understand how much I appreciate this drink. It always feels as though it kicks in immediately."
"Does that mean you don't have a fever anymore?"
Ben laughs, "Let's give it fifteen minutes to do its job. We can check it again then."
Aziz nods, "Okay."
Ben continues, "And in any case…" He stares down at the white floor for a long moment, before he looks seriously up at Aziz. "When it comes to me, fever is a relative term."
He shakes his head, "I don't understand."
"It's not really something I'm supposed to be talking about," Ben starts, "but what you've had to help me with today… it's something I've had to deal with my entire life." He looks up and finds his friend's mouth slightly gaped open in shock. "As an infant and toddler I had many visits to the doctor, as a child my parents would come to school to check on me and provide medicine when needed, and when I grew older they entrusted the gym teacher— my coach for after school sports— to look after me."
"Coach Jenkins," Aziz responds with awe.
"He kept an eye on me, always made sure I was doing okay," Ben remembers, "but when things got more complicated I was told to just keep some medicine on me at all times for emergencies." He gestures, "That's what my tic-tacs are. They're actually Tylenal."
"Well, that certainly explains a lot," Aziz nearly laughs, "like why you were always so selfish in wanting to keep them all to yourself."
"You only say it's selfish, because I didn't give any to you."
"Maybe," Aziz admits with a smile, "but still."
"But still," Ben recalls, "somewhere out there there's a tic-tac container filled with headache pills, and I have no clue where I left it."
"You're worried someone will take them."
"No," Ben shakes his head. "I would hope the people at this school could tell what a tic-tac is not supposed to taste like. No." He quiets for a moment. "I'm afraid that when someone inevitably finds them that someone will either know it's mine or that the school will conduct a search to find out who they belonged to."
"A search just to find out who had headache pills?" Aziz asks skeptically.
"No," Ben answers. "A search to find out who had pharmaceuticals hidden in a mint's case."
"Oh… well, when you think of it like that—"
"It's bad," Ben finishes. "As far as they're going to be concerned, they're either going to have some junkie or idiot teenager on their hands."
"Just an idea," Aziz starts before Ben looks back up at him. "Maybe if you were more honest with people, then you wouldn't be in this situation— any of this situation."
Ben laughs, "Because it's just that easy." before taking a moment to uneasily think over the situation. "My parents have made it clear that I can't tell anyone. Ever since I was little they told me that if anyone found out that I… they used to call it an illness. They told me that if anyone knew, then they may see me as unfit to take the throne. Even Jenkins." Ben shakes his head, "Jenkins said that if anyone knew about me, then I'd be putting myself in danger."
"I fail to see how telling someone about your fevers would put you in danger."
"That's because it's not just the fever," he explains, before he shakes his head. "It's the fever, my quote 'natural athleticism', everything… He called it a condition, whatever that's supposed to mean." He hears Aziz laugh. "I'm glad you find my suffering so hilarious."
"No." Aziz shakes his head, "It's not that." and it takes him a minute to settle down enough to explain. "Earlier today, it's just that I'm pretty sure you tried to roar at me."
"Really?" Ben questions. "I don't remember that."
"Yeah." Aziz informs, "You also tried to push the teacher across the room when he mentioned the nurse, but you were so weak he didn't even budge."
"Did—" Ben glances at the floor for a second, "Did I scare you?"
"What, you mean with that sad roar of yours," he laughs. "No. If anything it was kind of cute. I mean, not at the time, obviously, with your life being in danger and all. But, yeah."
"Cute?" Ben questions.
"Yeah. Like, have you ever seen a tiger cub try to roar?"
"I can easily say that I haven't."
"Well, it was a lot like that," Aziz explains. "It was like you were just trying so hard to be powerful and fierce, but when you tried to roar it was nothing more than scratchy vocal cords."
"And that's cute?" Ben questions.
"Well. I am comparing you to a cat." Aziz shrugs, "It's something you'd have to see for yourself to understand. I could pull up a video if you'd like to see."
"No, thanks," he passes. "I'll just take your word for it."
Aziz observes him carefully, "You seem bothered."
Ben shakes his head, "I'm not a cat."
"I never said you were."
"I'm human," Ben reminds him.
"Yeah," Aziz slowly comments. "That's why you're able to toss someone across the room and sprint across the field without breaking a sweat."
"Those are— It's just conditioning," Ben reasons. "I'm human."
"If you're so human," Aziz asserts, "then why are you so insistent in telling me that you are?" Ben doesn't speak, but his mouth remains open as he readies an excuse. "Look. We've known each other for a long time, and I think I know you fairly well by now." Ben shuts his mouth and remains quiet, as Aziz continues, "If you do happen to be some kind of hybrid or anything, then I'd be okay with that."
"You would be?" Ben questions.
"I mean, yeah." Aziz smiles, "A person's species is something that tends to be a part of them their entire lives. If I liked you before knowing, then there's no reason for me not to like you after you admit to it."
Ben shifts his eyes, "There's nothing to admit to." before he examines his friend's expression. "You would think that if I were some hybrid, then my doctor would have told me— that my parents would have told me. I mean, it's their genes, right?" He shakes his head, "No. I'm completely human. I have to be."
- Seriously, though. I've been looking at videos of lion and tiger cubs a lot lately, and they are super cute. If they didn't grow up so fast— or at all— then I'd want to take one home with me. There's nothing like a feisty kitty.