Happy New year everybody!
It was just a head cold. Probably from one of the kids at Kate's recital. But it was sending both Alistair and Garrett off the deep end, and they were driving me crazy. I just needed to sleep it off. Not to have the pair of them flinch and jump to attention each time I coughed. It would be better if I could go back to sleep for a bit.
It was worse when they thought I was unconscious. Then the bickering started, Alistair needling my boyfriend far more than he deserved and Garrett trying not to engage him too much but unable to help a few low blows. It was exhausting listening to them. "Can we go for a walk?" I suggested. Sitting up made my head throb and both of them lurch as though I would fall.
"Are you really feeling up to it?" Garrett asked in a whisper, his arms snaking around my shoulders as he stood in front of me, blocking Al's view of me momentarily.
I nodded against him. "Yeah; I'm okay, Gar, try not to worry too much."
"I don't want to be cynical, but you've been passing out a whole lot recently. More than you were before." He pressed his lips to my temple, squeezing me again.
Alistair sighed loudly. "He's not a child; if he says he wants to go out, let's go out. Let him stand up, for god's sake."
"He'll faint if he stands too quickly," my boyfriend shot back.
"He's an adult; he knows his limits."
Despite visibly seething, Gar kept his mouth shut, settling for holding my hand as he stepped back enough for me to get my feet on the ground. It instantly made my back ache, the pounding in my forehead worse as the room disappeared behind stars again. At the same time as my hearing faded, Garrett lifted me back onto the bed. His palm settled across my forehead. "You okay? Can you hear me?"
"Y-yeah," I mumbled. I guess we weren't going anywhere today. Or at least, I wasn't.
His hand shifted, sifting through my hair to get it off my face. "Do you need the nurse to come back?"
"No, Gar, I'm alright; just give me a minute." It was hard to get enough air - the pressure in my chest was back.
"You moved too fast, huh?" He leaned down to pull me into a hug, slipping his arms underneath my torso and letting his lips brush my neck. "You're pale again."
"Mmm." I nodded. It was another few minutes before my heart rate finally regulated. Garrett still was anxious and hovering, Al's narrowed eyes on his back. We really needed to get out of this room before they killed each other. I had to move.
They simultaneously protested when I sat up again, preparing to physically restrain me the second I leapt off the bed. I wasn't about to make the same mistake twice, though, waiting until the spinning stopped before letting my feet touch the ground. The dizziness was still there. More manageable, though. Better again while Gar had his arm across my back.
The prospect of getting dressed was almost more tiring than listening to the two of them. Not that anything ever fit me anymore. The heat leached from my body the longer I stood there and thought about it, and I took a few wobbly steps toward my bag on the floor while they were consumed with their apparent hatred for each other. I just needed warmth.
Pain seared up my arms as I tugged the zipper, the effort burning through my biceps. I barely fucking shifted it, a jolt of adrenaline rushing through me as I failed at something so easy. "Gar," I mumbled, trying to swallow it away. I couldn't deal with him panicking right then.
Thankfully, he was distracted enough that he just yanked it open for me, brushing his knuckles down my spine as he spat another quip toward Alistair. He was on autopilot as he helped me get out what I wanted, throwing it onto the bed around me.
They were making me anxious - I would have been better off alone. If I could bloody do anything, that was. "You're not both staying; this isn't a strip tease," I interrupted, cutting off their squabbling. "Al, why don't you go and get a coffee or something?"
He was glaring at his shoes but ultimately relented. "I'll wait outside the door."
Garrett was silent as he watched me struggle out of the clothing, confused. "Why are you undressing?"
"Because I'm freezing, Gar," I reminded him.
He smiled, catching the hem of my sweatshirt to tug it down again. "Then keep your clothes on, baby."
"N-no, this is too thick for anything to go over top of, and I need to put that underneath…" I trailed off; he wasn't really listening to me, more putting up with me once he realised I was getting upset about it.
The layers didn't help as much as I'd hoped once they were around my torso. I wanted to fucking cry. Maybe it was the fever. He caught my hand as I turned toward the door, spinning me to face him again. The careful kiss he pressed to my lips did ratify me a little. "Everything alright?"
"Let's get coffee?" I suggested. My fingers were tingly again. Cold. And I couldn't breathe by the time I reached the exit of the ward. I'd kept a tight grip on Garrett's hand from the moment we left the room - there was no way I was risking another concussion if I fell; my head still hurt.
The cafeteria was too loud. The bright lights blurred my vision and I couldn't hear the argument between the pair of them over the sharp scraping of cutlery and the throbbing. "We should sit on the balcony," Gar suggested. His hand dropped from mine, sneaking around my shoulders to tug me into his side. Thank god - I couldn't see where we were going, and I barged my shoulder into something hard and dark despite his attempt to steer me free of it. This was a bad idea. It was far too loud.
"Are you dumb? He'll be hypothermic," Alistair snapped back.
"Yeah, but- Carlisle? Where do you want to sit?"
Between a rock and a hard place, if it were up to them. "Outside?" Anywhere but here.
"It's raining," he continued to grumble, I guessed at me now.
"There's shelter, Al. And it's awful in here." I didn't care anymore. Just needed to sit down again. And people were staring at me. At the tube. My fidgeting with the tape on my cheek not helping. Alistair batted my hand away from it anyway.
"You were just complaining that you were cold."
"I am cold, but I need to sit down." My whine was apparently enough to make him shut it, because he pulled me away from Garrett to usher me toward the outdoor seating. We'd be alone out there, at least - no one else was dumb enough to want to sit on the other side of the glass.
.
.
The cold air was easier to breathe. It was taking all my effort to suppress my shivering, though, and I wasn't winning that battle convincingly. My stubbornness to admit it and my choice to sit across the table from Al hadn't worked in my favour.
"Here." Garrett set a disposable cup in front of me once he'd made it out of the line at the cash register. He sat down next to me but kept his distance, wordlessly handing Alistair his drink.
"He can't eat anything - why do you think he's got that damn tube down his throat?"
"He was doing okay with fluids the other day, and…" Garrett trailed off as he got snapped at again, shuffling a little closer along the bench so that the outside of his thigh pressed against mine.
"Do you need to go back to Edwards for a nap, Al? Because you're being kind of a jerk this morning," I interrupted. He'd been staying there the last few nights, and I couldn't help but be glad that he hadn't taken up Garrett's offer to stay at our place - there would have been a homicide by now. "And you've both got to stop talking about me in the third person, I'm right here."
Gar mumbled an apology, kissing my cheek and slipping his arm behind me again. Alistair continued to mutter under his breath. I took a sip of my drink and fought back the urge to retch.
The cold was awful. It made my bones ache. My limbs like deadweight every time I lifted the mug to my lips. I wanted to go upstairs so badly, to lie down again but they were more tolerable out here. Alistair had finally shut up now that he had something in his stomach and my boyfriend had drawn me into him, having abandoned his own drink to hold me closer.
"We needed to bring a blanket down with us," he whispered to me, his lips at my temple. "You're shivering."
"We shouldn't have come out in the first place," Alistair put in.
"Stop, Al, I asked to sit here," I reminded him tiredly.
"Only because Garrett suggested it."
"I wouldn't have if you'd just back off," Garrett snapped. They continued to bicker, but I suddenly couldn't focus enough to hear them. To hear anything - the noise from the cafeteria had faded as well. It was too hard to hold my head up, too hard to pull away as I fell further into my partner, his hand slowly stroking my spine. Someone said my name, my body refusing to respond, everything blurred around me when I opened my eyes.
A shock of cold against my face jerked me back. "If you're not feeling well, we have to go back to your nurse," Alistair said. He was hovering now, having touched me before he'd pulled his hand back, Gar nodding. Of course they were in agreement now.
"I'm fine, Al, just tired." Getting up seemed like an impossible mission. Worse when Garrett was so warm and doing a good job at pretending I meant something to him.
"I should have ordered you coffee, huh?" he teased.
"Caffeine is going to make him sick, moron."
"You two bickering is going to make me sick," I grumbled at him. A wave of guilt washed over me as soon as I snapped, my hand drifting to find Garrett's in a silent apology - he was trying his best.
He covered my fingers, kissing my shoulder this time. "Maybe we should get you back upstairs; I don't want you to faint while we're down here. You'll miss your lunch soon anyway." He seemed to realise his mistake as soon as he'd said the words, but neither of us acknowledged it.
The decision had been made for me apparently. I untangled myself from him as he stood, fighting the spinning as he pulled me up. "Gar, slowly?" I pleaded. "I'm not eating today anyway."
Both of them were frowning now. "Carlisle-" my boyfriend started, Al opening his mouth to protest as well.
"I'm having formula through the tube; don't jump down my throat about it." In my annoyance, I'd pulled out of their reach, only to stumble until Garrett's hands were back on my waist. I couldn't breathe again, my lungs squeezing. It would only be so long before I fainted again.
"Wheelchair?" Alistair murmured, his voice barely audible through the white noise in my ears.
"I think so. Carlisle?" Garrett agreed.
My response wouldn't come out. My vision tunneled, my body tingling and uncooperative, the cafeteria gone.
.
.
I was back in bed. I was pretty sure, anyway. The surface was soft and the room was quiet, soft light filtering through the window. My chest didn't hurt so bad anymore. Not so tight. Maybe I was just going to need to lie down for the rest of my life - it seemed to fix everything.
"You scared the shit out of half the cafe, you know." Despite the comment, his voice was comforting and gentle, his hand moving from mine to graze my cheek. "Are you feeling better?" He turned my face slightly, his lips brushing mine.
"Y-yeah. Sorry, Gar." Nothing was overly painful as I slowly tested my limbs, waiting for something to stab or ache but finding nothing. "I didn't fall?"
"Not exactly," he said slowly. "You still passed out, but I, uh, caught you."
I blushed before I could help it, coughing to clear my throat. "Where's Al?"
"He went back to Edward's." There had been an argument. I could see it in his face, though he didn't mention it.
"How long was I out?" It felt like a long time. Like days had passed. Like I was floating and none of this was real. My palms were still tingling.
"A couple of minutes, but you haven't been able to speak to me until now; you haven't been coherent when you were awake."
"How many days ago?"
Garrett frowned at me, his hand tightening over mine. "Today, Carlisle. It's only been half an hour."
"Feels like longer."
"Barely long enough for your drink to get cold. Do you want me to get you another?" He moved it across the table towards me with his free hand, the other bringing my hand to his lips to gently kiss the backs of my fingers.
Just the mention of it brought on a wave of nausea. "It's fine. I don't think I can really…"
His hand wandered back to cup my face, his thumb brushing over the tape on my cheek covering the tube, forcing himself to look at it. His disgust was obvious. "The nurse was talking about trialing a feed though this soon, since you're so lightheaded."
I groaned. They'd been warning me it was going to happen as soon as the damn thing was placed, but that didn't stop me dreading it. Their promises that I couldn't vomit everything back up seemed hollow while my stomach was so intensely sensitive. "I don't want it anymore." I knew I was being difficult, childish, my suspicion only confirmed by Garrett's sigh.
"You can't afford to keep refusing, Carlisle. You're quiet literally starving yourself to death right now, and the doctors already think you have an eating disor-"
"I don't."
"Fine, but you've got to have something." He was upset with me again. "You agreed to let them shove that thing in you; you may as well let them use it." His hand twisted out of mine and he slouched back in his chair, the space between us a canyon now he'd broken the contact.
My heart was suddenly pounding in my chest. "Gar, please."
"Please, what?" he grumbled.
"Stay."
"While they feed you?"
"Yeah." I picked at my fingertips while he wouldn't hold my hand.
"I guess," he agreed noncommittally.
.
.
Garrett was quiet and pale. Watching the floor the whole time. Playing with his phone when that wasn't enough of a distraction. I wished he'd say something. Acknowledge what was happening. He hadn't so much as glanced in my direction since the tubing had been connected to the bag of formula. All I could hear was the throbbing of my pulse in my ears and the click of the pump as it pushed fluid into me. "I think I should, um, I'm going to head home. I'll see you later?" he mumbled. No eye contact; he still couldn't look at me. Instead, he awkwardly waved goodbye, avoided me, and bolted out the door.
I felt sick. Not because of the feed.
This was it.
I was finally too much.
"Are you feeling alright?" the nurse asked cautiously.
"Y-yeah." My heart leapt when the door opened again, thinking maybe he was going to hug me after all, but it was only the watch. He wouldn't look at me either, plodding over to sit in his chair, shoving it back against the wall from where Garrett had pulled it forward. "Do I really still need supervision? I'm not…I'm feeling better; I'm not going to do anything." It wasn't convincing. Especially not when I couldn't breathe, couldn't think straight around my boyfriend's rejection, my own stupid sensitivity to every fucking thing he did, and the pounding of my head.
She barely resisted rolling her eyes. "It's necessary, Carlisle. We can't have you hurting yourself on hospital property."
"I won't." The shaking was starting again. I couldn't breathe.
That was ignored. Instead, she pushed a small cup full of tablets toward me across the bedside table, setting a glass of water next to it. "Your medication is due, and I need to check your blood pressure."
I knew that fucking pill was in there. While she was distracted with strapping the cuff on my arm, I shook the cup gently, trying to disperse the tablets enough that I could pick which one it was. It was hopeless - they were all the same powdery white. "What are these?" I tried instead.
"The same medication you've been having the entire time you've been admitted," she grumbled. "You need to start tolerating oral meds, or you'll never be able to be discharged."
I was certain they weren't allowed to do this to me. They had to tell me what I was taking.
She glanced over in time to see my hesitance. "You need it."
I didn't reply. She wouldn't look away. Panicking, I tipped the cup into my mouth, tucking the tablets against my cheek as I faked a swallow of the water. The pills were horrendously bitter as they started to dissolve, losing their protective coating while she fussed around the room, burning into the wounds. As soon as she was gone, I spat them back into the cup of water, wrapping my hands around the plastic to hide it from the watch - not that he was looking at me anyway. My heart was about to hammer out of my chest.
I just wanted my boyfriend to come back.
.
.
I'd managed to stem the tears by the next time someone knocked on the door. I'd swallowed more of the medication than I'd intended when it had melted, the room spinning as I stared up at the roof tiles. The nausea was making me giddy, the shaking making it hard to walk to the restroom when I'd tried.
It wasn't Gar, though. Carmen instead. She hugged me, squeezing me so tightly my back ached. It felt good, comforting, soothing as she rubbed my shoulder. Her presence was still confusing. As much as I loved my partner's family, there was no reason for her to be here. She was thankfully polite enough not to comment on the state I'd gotten myself into.
We made small talk for nearly fifteen minutes before she circled around to her reason for coming. "We're having a get-together for Garrett's birthday tomorrow - not dinner, I know how both of you are with food. Eleazar and I thought it would be nice for you to be there too; I'd be happy to sign you out of the ward for the evening and pick you up? I know things are a little difficult for you right now." Her eyes flicked to the chair in the corner, where security had been sitting before he'd jumped at the chance to get away from me.
I swallowed, my throat tight. "I think he'd be happier if I wasn't there, Carmen," I admitted.
"What are you talking about? He'll only sulk the entire time - have you met the man?" She was chuckling, but it barely masked her concern. I shouldn't have said anything. It would be easier for everyone if I just did what I was told.
I shrugged.
"Did something happen?" she asked carefully. "It seemed like you two were getting better the other day."
I didn't know what to tell her.
Carmen sighed. "Eleazar told me what happened with Heidi at school," she broached carefully.
"Mmm." It made the lump in my throat worse.
"We've applied to move Kate to another elementary school, and we've pulled her out of her current one until she's allowed to start. We've also filed a formal complaint with the school board."
"I'm really sorry."
"For what?"
"All of this."
"You haven't done anything wrong, Carlisle."
It felt like I had. We both glanced at the door as it swung open, a hospital worker carrying in a tray, another meal I wouldn't be able to touch. Just the smell of it turned my stomach. She caught my nervous glance at the sick-bowls, though I'd tried not to do it.
"Are you still unable to eat?" She stood up to pass one to me, the chair squeaking as it grated on the floor.
I swallowed, having to wait until my abdomen stopped squeezing before I could reply. "Mostly." I'd already looked at the menu receipt on the tray, not needing to uncover the food to know that I couldn't handle it. It was going to make me vomit if I thought about it too hard.
She'd leaned forward to lift the lid on the tray, her hand freezing as she peeked inside and our eyes met. "Do you want me to…?"
I shook my head, swallowing again. "I can't have it, thanks." The nausea was making me sweat, my limbs cold as I tried not to let the need to gag get the better of me.
"They won't bring you anything more suitable?" The lid came back down and she lifted it away. She banished it outside the door, setting it in the corridor and taking the god-awful smell with it. She came back holding a bowl of jelly. "What about dessert? Have you tried this?"
"Y-yeah. Sometimes it's...sometimes it's okay." I was hungry. I was so fucking hungry. But nothing would ever stay down, and starving was preferable to vomiting.
Carmen was frowning, her hand resting on my arm. "There's a grocer down the street; I can get you something else if there's something you-"
"This is fine, thanks, Carmen. I'm okay." That was the last thing I wanted. For her to go out of her way. It was bad enough that she'd had to come this far for me. I took a spoonful of the jelly to prove my point, my throat tight as I forced it down. It didn't immediately rush back up, thank god.
"Are you sure?"
I nodded. "Sweet stuff is better sometimes - the nurse said I'll be less nauseous if I can keep my blood sugar steady." It didn't work well really - the high didn't last long before it crashed again; I needed to have something more substantial for it to do any good, but I couldn't tolerate anything solid.
"Will you come tomorrow night?" she asked after a long pause. "We'd all like to have you there."
Backed into a corner, I just agreed. It seemed like the least painful option.
.
.
Sleep wouldn't come. The aches were worse than usual, burning through my limbs if I tried to move, my lungs heavy with every breath. I'd dodged more pills, but couldn't stop whatever they fed through the IV, the pressure in my abdomen from the liquid they pushed down my tube making me queasy. Garrett texted me goodnight but otherwise ignored me. All of this sucked. I wished I could just sleep for a while.
The next afternoon rolled around far too soon. I slowly pulled on enough clothing that I hoped I wouldn't freeze, the effort of lifting my arms from my sides making the room wobble. Carmen tried to smile when she saw me, but something stopped her, replacing it with a worried frown. "Ready to go?" she asked me. "I've already spoken to your nurse; I have your medication for tonight."
I nodded. It didn't matter - I wasn't going to take it anyway. All of this was already exhausting. My ears rang the entire way down to her car. I hadn't realised she was speaking to me until I was sitting down, pressing my forehead against the glass to hold off the inevitable faint. The roads seemed unfamiliar while I was so dizzy.
It was getting worse. Standing in Carmen's kitchen, it barely registered that my boyfriend was holding me, his arms locked around my chest as he murmured to me, smiling like everything was fine. I couldn't hear him. Could barely see him. Could barely stand.
They were singing. Happy Birthday, if the occasion was anything to go by. My legs were wobbling under me. Garrett had pulled out a chair, pushing me back into it and sitting at the table next to me, frowning through the distraction of his family. His mouth moved but the words were gone behind white noise. I really couldn't breathe.
They were cutting the cake, a slice of it in front of everyone. Gar was gone. Sasha pushing mine toward me, handing me a fork. I was going to be sick. They were all staring at me. Waiting for me. The bite I swallowed grated the whole way down my throat. Sat like a rock in my stomach. The nausea intensifying with my next forkful. More stupid tears not far off.
It hurt to walk. My stomach cramped up and my body burned and I couldn't get enough air into my lungs. My vision was blurry and distorted, the walls spinning, my shoulder knocking into the plaster as I stumbled away from them. It was suffocating. And Gar was gone - I really needed him back. Had to find him.
I was having a heart attack. The pain in my chest wouldn't ease, twisting and grabbing, refusing to let air into my lungs, drilling through my shoulder and down my left arm the further I tried to walk. The words wouldn't come out while I stood next to Eleazar, stuck behind the lump in my throat.
The cake came up again ten minutes later. I barely made it to the bathroom, heaving up mouthfuls of bile until the spasms stopped. I was going to black out. I couldn't see.
I knew I wasn't supposed to. I slipped away from them while they were all distracted by Kate and Irina, tracing my way back through the kitchen to sneak out the back door. The cold air helped. Eased the tightness in my lungs. I sat on the porch steps, pleased that for once it had stopped raining. My stomach hurt less while I was leaning forward too. I folded my arms around my knees, resting my chin on them as I tried to make out their yard through the thick darkness. My hearing returned with a quiet pop.
"Hey- hey, you can't be out here." The intrusion of his voice was quickly followed by his hand on my shoulder, but his tone was gentle, if a little worried. "What are you doing by yourself?"
"Needed some air." I wished he would just leave me alone. Acid still stung my throat, my stomach doing another painful roll, another cramp in my chest.
He didn't. He sat on the step beside me with a quiet sigh, a few inches between us. "I'm really glad you came tonight, Carlisle."
"Happy birthday."
"Thanks." He shuffled a little closer, his bicep brushing mine before he slipped his arm around my shoulders, squeezing. "I love you. I know tonight has been hard on you; thank you for coming, I'm so glad you're here. If you're feeling up to it, do you want to come home again tomorrow? After I finish work?"
"I...I'm so tired, Garrett, I don't know if…" I stammered for an excuse. It felt like tomorrow wouldn't come. Like my body would have given out by then. Like I would have given out by then.
"Then I'll come and see you? I can bring dinner?"
"I can't eat," I reminded him.
"I just want to spend time with you, baby. I don't care what we do."
"I can't do anything." I wished he would just dump me. Get it over with. It was definitely coming.
He didn't say anything, turning slightly to put his arms around me properly, drawing me into him as he stroked my back through my jacket. It wasn't natural anymore. "You're...is it…Are you upset?"
I buried my face in his shirt, breathing in the smell of his aftershave as I briefly let him comfort me. "I'm alright."
"I love you," he repeated softly. He pressed his cheek against the top of my head as his arm slid against my waist.
I didn't think he was going to listen to me. I risked a glance up, wishing I could see his expression. "I'm not feeling well."
"Nauseous?" He didn't back off, continuing to hold me there.
"Kinda."
"You were sick before, huh? You were too polite to refuse the cake?"
"Mmm." Maybe everything didn't feel so bad while I could lean against him.
"I can take you home; we can spend the rest of the evening together," he offered.
I selfishly wanted to agree to that.
"We've been here long enough to be polite; we can go." There was a long pause where I didn't speak to avoid giving in, and he waited for me to respond. Eventually, he surrendered, lowering his voice. "I want that, Carlisle; if you want to leave too, then let's go."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, of course. Let's go home."
My stomach started churning again as he hugged his family goodbye. Saliva welled in my mouth, and I was suddenly burning hot, desperate to be outside again. I didn't wait for Garrett as I escaped to the front door, back out into the weather. The pain in my chest was worse. Crushing. I was going to die.
It was starting to spit again, but it didn't register until a weight dropped around my shoulders - my boyfriend's jacket, I realised as I glanced back to find him there. "You okay?" he asked. "You're as white as a sheet."
"I think I'm going to throw up in the car," I admitted shakily.
"I have a container; it's okay. Don't worry about it, Carlisle. Are you sure it's just your stomach that's bothering you?"
I just nodded.
.
.
I was going to die. We were in the elevator when I suddenly couldn't stand anymore. I tried to lean against the wall, to stop myself falling, but I was so lightheaded that I couldn't see, couldn't feel anything anymore. Garrett was talking to me again. His arms curled around me, holding me steady against him.
The pain was slightly better the next time I woke up. I expected to see the walls of the hospital when I opened my eyes, to have the drip attached to my arm again, but it wasn't. Our bedroom.
"You alright? That was too much, huh? Do you need an ambulance?"
"N-no, I'm not going back," I mumbled to him.
He lay down in front of me, drawing me against his chest, his arms protectively around me. "You have to, Carlisle, you're not well."
"Did I pass out? How long?"
"Only for a couple of minutes; you got dizzy in the elevator," he confirmed. The soft kiss he pressed to my forehead was sweet, soothing.
"Sorry."
"Why don't you sleep for a while? You're obviously exhausted."
Because I wouldn't wake up. "Okay." Selfish. I was so fucking selfish, to make him deal with the aftermath once the inevitable happened.
.
.