A/N: Had this chapter bumping around in my head. Did something somewhat stupid last night, so am exhausted today. Hopefully I caught all the stupid mistakes.
He spends most of his day engaged in one of three activities: dozing, dry heaving, and begging everyone from the doctor, to his father, to a candy-striper who comes into check if he needs a heated blanket, to give him something to drink for the love of god. No one seemed to love god, or him, enough to even bring him ice chips.
At least Nick has the good grace to leave the room before he eats or drinks something. His father alternates between hovering with his favorite pink basin, rubbing his back, and when he thinks his son is asleep, reading legal briefs on iPhone while drinking coffee.
He still feels the crap, but the cat naps he catches between nurses coming to draw his blood for lab and his body's constant need to get rid of something through one of two orifices.
Its around four o'clock when he wakes up to hear his father and Nick talking. He keeps his eyes closed and listens.
"… was scared" Nick says, quietly. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone throw up so much."
He would respond with snark to his roommate, advising him not to join a fraternity. His father is more understanding. "I was scared the first time it happened, too. When Bastian was little… when he first got sick … and we brought him to the hospital in the middle of the night, he threw up every time he moved out of bed."
His father pauses, no doubt to find the picture of his young son that he keeps on his phone.
"He didn't want to come," Nick says, quietly. "He was mad when I told him you called. He was lying on his bed, naked, half dead, and he was still mad that I called."
His father sighs. "Bastian doesn't want anyone to know that he's diabetic. He used to get teased at his old school… people calling him names and telling him what he could and couldn't do. A few of his teachers tried to confiscate him pump… the thing that gives him insulin and keeps him alive."
"I don't think he would have told me, if he didn't have to." Nick says, quietly.
"I'm glad he did," His father says. "I worry Bas is too independent, and he doesn't know when to ask for help. You're a good friend."
"If I was a good friend," Nick says, his voice quiet and serious, "I would have woken up last night and helped him sooner."
"You can't help someone who doesn't want it," His father says, in the same serious tone. "And, Sebastian doesn't want help. He wants people to think he's in control of his life, even when he's not."