Briggs woke up feeling like crap; worse than crap whatever that was. He wanted to rollover and sink back into oblivion, but nature called and after last night's screaming, he didn't want to tarnish his legend further by pissing the bed.
Struggling, he got to his feet and fumbled his way into the bathroom. After taking care of business he splashed some cold water on his face which did nothing to help his disheveled appearance. Stumbling back into the bedroom he scanned about for the rum bottle before remembering he had emptied it last night. Pawing around his bed table drawer he found a bottle of Aleve and dry-swallowed three of them hoping they would take a little edge off the pain. What he really wanted to do was drink himself back into oblivion but that would require him to go downstairs and find some sort of liquid aid. Grumbling, he pulled on a pair of shorts but forgo the shirt. Besides, he was really hot and he wondered for a moment if the AC in the house was on the fritz.
When he finally made it downstairs, he found it mercifully empty. Making a beeline for the cache of liquor bottles, he searched until he found a new bottle of rum. Staring at the label of Sailor Jerry's finest, he finally came to his senses and realized while he needed something to drink, alcohol was probably not his best choice. Sighing, he put the bottle down and headed for the fridge where he snagged Jakes' OJ without a second thought. He actually felt a little bit better as the sweet cool nectar slid down his parched throat. Taking another healthy swig, he stood in the cool draft of the fridge and surveyed the contents; he probably should eat too but nothing much appealed to him. Flipping the door shut, he glanced over at the cabinets, visualizing what was behind those closed doors. Again, nothing really jumped out at him so moved over to the sofa with the bottle of OJ. That little bit of activity wiped him out and he sunk wearily onto the couch. It was hot down here too he noted as he drank more OJ. He'd have to get Paige to take a look at the house's cooling system; she was very good with mechanical systems. Placing the nearly empty bottle on the floor next to him, Paul gingerly stretched out on the couch on his 'good' side, the one without the knife cut in the shoulder and thigh. He inched forward so his barnacle-abraded back did not touch the rear cushions and promptly fell asleep.
He was still in that position hours later when two of his housemates wandered in from 'work'. Charlie had taken Mike with her, figuring if Paul was out of commission, someone had to take over the kid's training and better her than Johnny. When they discovered the senior agent on the couch, they took it as a good sign that Briggs had made it out of bed and downstairs. Charlie brushed a light hand over him as she walked by and was surprised at the heat radiating off his skin. Deliberately placing a hand on his forehead, she was shocked at how hot he felt. Before she could say anything to Mike who was inquisitively watching her, the front door opened admitting Paige and Johnny. "How's our boy doing?" Paige asked strolling over to where Charlie stood by the prone Briggs.
"Hot. Like really hot."
"Boy, Briggs is going to be sorry he was not awake to hear you say that Charlie," Johnny joshed on his way to the kitchen.
"No joke," Charlie said annoyed at Johnny's flippancy.
"We should take his temperature. I'll go find the thermometer." Paige headed upstairs to root through their medical supplies.
Johnny just couldn't resist. "If she gets one that goes in the nether region, are we going to draw straws to see who gets to insert it?"
Mike grimaced at Johnny and Charlie started to verbally ream him out but was interrupted by the arrival of the last missing housemate. "Say something stupid again Johnny?" Jakes observed catching the tail end of the dress down. Seeing Briggs on the couch his focus shifted. "I see he made it downstairs and of course drank my OJ," Jakes noted nudging the empty bottle with his toe. "Why do I bother to label?"
"Jakes, I think he is running a high temperature," Charlie said interrupting his reverie.
Jakes reached over and felt Brigg's forehead for himself. "You are right. Hot, very hot."
"Again Briggs misses the comment," Johnny quipped.
Charlie started yelling at Johnny again and all the commotion around him caused Briggs to wake up. He blearily registered Jakes' hand on his forehead. "Are we having some sort of 'kumbaya' moment?"
"Got it," Paige announced reentering the family room with the thermometer. "Don't worry. It goes in the mouth," she said holding it out to Briggs.
"Is this really necessary?" Briggs glanced at his roommates clustered around him. Judging by their faces, he knew he had no choice; either do it gracefully himself or have it stuck in him by one of these determined people. "Fine." Taking the thermometer from Paige he sat up with a slow groan and stuck it under his tongue.
"Leave it there until it beeps," Paige instructed.
"I know that," he grumpily replied around the object in his mouth.
"And don't talk," Charlie added. He didn't say a word but glared his displeasure at her and the whole situation. When it beeped, Charlie pulled it out before Briggs could even reach for it. Looking at it, she quietly showed it to the rest of the folks who had gathered around her.
"What?" Briggs asked irritably.
"Temp of 104. That's pretty high Briggs," Jakes said seriously. "Probably means an infection. You really need to seek some professional medical help on this one buddy."
"Let's just wait it out," Paul countered
"That's pretty dangerous Paul. A fever of a 104 in adults for more than a few hours can have adverse effects. Jakes is right. You really should go see a Doctor," Mike concluded.
"You quoting from the FBI manual again Warren?" Briggs asked sarcastically. "How about I take a swim in the cold ocean. Better yet how about I throw you in the ocean."
"Dude, you wouldn't even make it down the stairs to the beach before falling flat on your face," Johnny pointed out to Briggs.
Jakes crossed his arms over his chest. "Look. If you have an infection, which you probably do based on how you got those wounds, you need an antibiotic to combat it. You maybe not be DEA but even you know that legal drugs need a prescription which again, may I point out, means visiting a Doctor."
"You are trying to tell me I live in a house with two damn DEA agents and I have to go to the Doctors to get some drugs?" Briggs demanded. Various expression of shock crossed the housemate's faces at Briggs' outburst. Mike, as usual, gave the text book answer. "It would be wrong."
Briggs closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "That was a joke Mike." Wearily, he got up and made his way towards the staircase. "I'm gonna go sleep this off." He disappeared up the stairs and a few seconds later they heard his bedroom door slam shut.
"You can't sleep off an infection," Jakes said to nobody in particular as he too made his way out of the family room.
Johnny grabbed Mike by the arm. "Come on dude. Let's go hit Hectors. I'm starving. We'll bring something back for him," he said gesturing with his chin towards the second floor. "It will make him feel better. My mother always said sweat out a fever. We'll bring him the hottest thing Hector has on the menu." The two guys departed leaving Charlie and Paige alone.
"He won't go to see a Doctor."
Paige stared curiously at Charlie. "Do you know why?"
"Nope," the dark hair girl replied plopping down in a chair. "You know how he gets."
"Zen master axe murder. Sometimes it scares me what must go on in that tortured head of his."
Charlie nodded in agreement. "So what do we do?"
Paige stood up decisively. "We get him an antibiotic without going to a Doctor. I'm DEA and your FBI. Surely we can pull this off. How is your makeup artistry at painting infected looking wounds?"