And we're onto day three of Sicktember, still going strong!
Techno wasn't hired to take care of sick people.
Then again, he wasn't exactly hired to be a babysitter either and he'd done plenty of that over the past few years. If he was the type of person who really cared about his job description and not being asked to do things outside of his established skill set, he would have put in a complaint a long time ago. But Techno didn't know what to expect when he started working for the Craft family, he hadn't even been looking for new employment.
All that really mattered was that Techno liked Phil enough not to want to see him be completely miserable.
"You should ask for your meeting to be rescheduled." Techno crossed his arms where he was leaning against the wall, watching Phil work. "You're sick."
"This isn't exactly the sort of thing I can postpone, mate." Phil brushed some hair out of his face. Apparently, they were both meant to ignore the fact it was sticking to his forehead due to Phil sweating an unusual amount. Probably a fever.
Techno opened his mouth to tell Phil that yes, actually it could be postponed, anything could be postponed if you simply didn't do it when you originally planned to do it, that's literally what postponing things meant, but then closed it again and sighed. Frankly, not only was it a useless endeavor with somebody as stubborn as Phil to try and change his mind, but Techno also understood Phil's job was a little out of the ordinary.
Any job that made you a target for assassinations would be.
Though then again, that might have more to do with the money. Phil was really just a contractor for the government, not part of the government itself. Go figure.
"How long?" he asked instead.
"Half an hour tops," Phil said. "And after that, you can get us back home so I'll lie down on the couch, promise." Phil smiled thinly at him. "You could take some time off, isn't that nice?"
"Would be a first," Techno answered.
Being a bodyguard of the sort Techno was didn't leave a lot of room for vacation days. Techno lived his job, basically. He followed Phil everywhere constantly, he had his own room in the Craft's mansion, and he sometimes felt more like a member of the family than an employee. They treated him as such, anyway, though Techno was a pro at keeping things professional.
Phil laughed at his remark. "Well, Kristin and the boys won't be back until Wednesday, so you won't need to worry about them. Maybe you can relax for once." The tone of his voice implied he suspected there was very little chance of that happening. He knew Techno better than anything.
"I'm not worried," Techno said truthfully. Compared to special ops, keeping Phil alive was child's play.
He waited for Phil to finish up the last of his preparations. Bodyguarding - as it turned out - was a lot of standing around waiting for nothing to happen. Of course, Techno needed to be there in case something did happen, but so far the only time anybody had gunned for Phil's life was the time Techno wasn't around yet (and subsequently the entire reason for his employment). Phil gathered up his papers to start putting them into a suitcase. At one point he had to stop so he could bend over in a coughing fit that lasted a solid thirty seconds.
Techno also knew Phil very well. That was why he didn't offer to take the chore out of his hands.
"Fuck, that hurts," Phil said, rubbing his chest.
"Anything else hurt?" Techno asked suspiciously, earning himself a glance from Phil, who shrugged and continued packing.
"Nah, I'm good."
Techno didn't comment. Frankly, he was developing his own headache at an alarming rate. The weather wasn't great, and his leg was acting up. So he'd be very glad to go home after this.
The ride to the building where Phil was supposed to have his meeting passed in relative silence, with Techno scrolling his phone and listening to Phil try to stifle more hacks into his fist. They sounded wet and unpleasant. Techno quietly ordered some medication to be delivered to the mansion later, and saved the number of a doctor who did home visits for good measure. He knew Phil didn't have a permanent physician. Techno couldn't judge, he didn't have one either.
During the meeting itself, he stayed outside the door, sitting in one of those overly plush little chairs a lot of government office waiting rooms had.
Honestly, the threat to Phil's life was negligent. The assassination attempt was a fluke from a madman with a very specific hatred of civic architecture and a thirst for old money. Phil's estate was worth millions because of his heritage and in a roundabout way, his death might profit a bunch of different people. But not enough so for others to want him gone. Techno was hired just to appease the kids' anxieties, and then he got to stick around because those kids got really attached to him and Tommy would probably throw a fit if they fired Techno. Funny how life could work out that way.
Despite the meeting room being designed to be more or less soundproof, Techno could hear Phil's coughing through the walls. He couldn't discern any actual talking, just the soft cadence of Phil's voice reverberating in muted tones. But the coughing definitely stood out. Techno cringed when it reached a higher pitch at one point.
He was going to hit Phil with one heck of an 'I told you so' later.
Techno waited another ten minutes until the meeting must be reaching its conclusion and he was certain Phil had a chance to get all the important stuff out of the way. Then Techno stood up, straightened the stupid little tie he had to wear as part of the job, and knocked on the door.
Nobody granted him permission to enter, or maybe Techno was already turning the knob by the time they did so. He kept his face very neutral as about ten businessmen turned their curious expressions towards him. Phil was standing at the front of the room, PowerPoint lit up behind him on the screen, looking pale and unsteady. Though he was making a commendable effort hiding it. Techno walked up to him, leaned in, and whispered against Phil's ear in a voice quiet enough not to be overheard.
"You're sick."
Phil made an attempt at a glare when Techno leaned away again, though the smirk on Techno's lips remained unchanged. With a sigh, Phil wiped his hand across his forehead and nodded. He turned towards the room, clearing his throat so he could talk without another coughing fit.
"Gentlemen, I'm afraid there has been an emergency. We'll have to cut this off prematurely but all additional information should be in the reports I've handed out so feel free to look that over and get back to me with any feedback you have on the proposal."
A wave of agreeable murmurs and nods met him. Techno loathed the corporate climate but he highly doubted anybody was going to question Phil on this even if they thought his behavior was unprofessional. Techno not-very-subtly looped his arm across the middle of Phil's back to lead him from the room. Somebody else could collect his stuff later.
"If it makes you feel better, we could lie and tell them all that you've been poisoned in another assassination attempt," Techno said once they were out in the hallway. Before Phil could answer, the man was already bending over with a new fit, wheezy inhales the only thing that assured Techno that he was still breathing at all. "They'll buy it," he added, squinting at Phil's pale and shivering form.
"I don't really care what they think," Phil said, straightening with Techno's help. He was definitely relying somewhat on Techno's support to keep upright. He should call that doctor. "Let's go home." Techno nodded, starting to help Phil get to the car.
He really hoped that uncomfortable, tight feeling in the back of his throat was just worry about the situation.
"You heard the doctor's verdict," Techno said as he walked into the room. "No working for at least a week and stay in bed as much as possible."
"I'm not old enough that I've gone deaf, mate." Phil exhaled around the words, trying to prevent them from turning into another coughing spree. He was only partly successful at it.
"Could have fooled me."
Techno wasn't hired to be a waiter or a personal chef either but there he was delivering Phil a tray of tea to the bedside table. The cup itself was balancing precariously. Techno didn't drink tea. He might have overfilled it in his attempt to be helpful. He also brought some sugar cubes, milk, and a simple sandwich in case Phil got hungry. Though he'd said earlier his appetite was all but gone.
"Thanks," Phil said, curling his hands around it as soon as Techno set it down. "I already called Kristin to tell her she can take the boys down to the beach or something. I don't want them catching this."
"Good idea." Techno did not want to be dealing with a sick child on top of this. Phil was already enough of a handful.
"You can take paid leave," Phil continued. He took a small sip of his tea, frowning at the bitter taste before dropping two sugar cubes into the cup. "I don't think you've taken a single day off since you started working here."
"I haven't," Techno said. "And I won't for this."
Phil frowned up at him, almost smiling. "And you dare call me a workaholic."
"Somebody has to be here to make sure you're taken care of," Techno said with a shrug. "Besides, what if somebody tries to murder you?"
"That's very unlikely."
"Statistically improbable," Techno agreed. "But not impossible."
Phil laughed. "Yeah, I guess not."
They probably both knew the truth was that Techno cared about Phil. More than a boss, Techno viewed Phil as a friend. You couldn't really become somebody's constant shadow without getting very close to them. All those boring long drives they spent talking, lunches at restaurants they had together since they were out for Phil's work, Techno snarking under his breath in some high-rise elevator to the top floor for another meeting making Phil chuckle. Techno liked Phil, so the idea of leaving him to fend for himself with pneumonia while his wife and kids were away wasn't something he felt comfortable with.
Phil picked up his sad, floppy little sandwich. "Go make yourself some lunch at least," he insisted. "Just because my nose is so clogged up I don't know what stuff tastes like anymore doesn't mean you need to suffer with me."
Techno made his voice sound as monotone as possible. "Got it, boss." Phil laughed again.
Down in the kitchen, Techno pulled open the fridge but then stopped. Almost anything he could possibly think of was in there, a perk of living with rich people. Kristin and Phil both enjoyed cooking, so they made sure they were well-stocked when it came to food.
None of it looked appealing to Techno though.
Eh, maybe he wasn't very hungry. Nothing wrong with that. He had some water - hoping that it would help against the scratchiness that had settled in his throat - then decided to go back up to Phil's room and keep him company.
Hopefully, in a couple of days time, this would all be behind them.
Kristin sent them pictures from the beach.
Techno was happy at least somebody seemed to be having a good time since he was getting more miserable by the day.
Caring for Phil was fine. He mainly brought Phil food and water and tea, or reminded him to take his medicine. Once or twice Techno caught Phil sneaking to his home office and Techno had to (almost literally) drag him back to bed, but that little problem had been solved by getting him a tray table he could use for his laptop. The doctor said no work, but Techno knew that'd be a longshot for somebody like Phil who would succumb to stir craziness in less than a day if he wasn't allowed to occupy himself. So letting Phil do a few easy tasks in between naps and reading was the compromise they came to.
The problem was that Techno might have caught Phil's illness.
After two days of making certain Phil was all set and running some errands for him, Techno couldn't deny his own symptoms any longer. His entire body ached and he'd been coughing a lot more than usual, the wet feeling that accompanied his hacking only another nail in the coffin.
"Techno?!" Phil raised his voice, wincing when that probably made his throat sting.
"Hm?" Techno looked up from his book.
"I've been talking to you for a whole minute, you didn't notice?"
Ah, Techno was too busy zoning out. He blinked a few times, trying to force his brain to keep up. He was exhausted, no matter how much sleep he got he seemed to wake up tired the past few days. "It's a really good book," he said.
Phil smiled, picking up three large envelopes from his bedside table. "Would you mind getting these posted for me?"
"Writing your will in case this pneumonia takes you down, old man?" Techno asked with a smirk, making Phil chortle.
"No, you little shit. Just some schematics that will save me time later if I get them out now." Techno stood up to come retrieve them. He reached out for the envelopes, only for Phil to pull them back with a frown. "You're pretty pale."
"Thanks," Techno drawled. "It's all the time I spent locked up with you in office buildings instead of frolicking around outside."
"As if you'd enjoy frolicking." But Phil still narrowed his eyes at him. "Are you feeling alright?"
"Peachy." Techno snatched the envelopes from him.
"Hm… You know, we could order in tonight. So you don't have to-"
"I'm fine, Phil," Techno cut in, knowing exactly what Phil was doing. "If you don't want to eat my cooking you can just say so."
Phil shook his head. "You know that's not it."
"Cool, I'll just post these then." He hurried away before Phil could scrutinize him properly and see that something was wrong.
But when he closed the door of Phil's bedroom behind him, Techno had to hunch over. His lungs hurt, the kind of tight contractions that made him short of breath. The back of his throat tasted vaguely of metal.
There was some irony in him getting sick right as Phil was getting better. Ugh. And the timing was downright terrible, as Phil would be going back to work soon and then Techno had to be sharp for the job. So he shouldn't let Phil notice. Phil might try to return the favor.
Well, if he took some meds before bed tonight that would all clear up in no time.
Meds and sleep had not magically solved Techno's issue.
When he woke up, he felt worse than before. He even slept straight through his alarm. Techno couldn't remember the last time that had happened. His eyes blinked open slowly when the sun started to shine on them from outside. The grainy texture behind his eyelids made Techno grunt. His vision was kind of blurry, making the ceiling seem out of focus.
He should get up and check on Phil.
Techno forced himself upright despite the protesting of his muscles. He rubbed the back of his hand over his face. His skin was clammy, though the room also felt unbearably hot. Did he forget to crack the window open last night?
Closer inspection showed it to be ajar, but Techno's shirt still stuck to his back with sweat.
He decided to just head downstairs. As soon as Techno opened the bedroom door, a sharp tangy smell hit him. Instinct kicked in immediately and Techno took the stairs down two at a time, assuming the house might be on fire or something.
Instead, what met him in the kitchen was Phil cursing at a pan full of eggs.
"How is that working out for you?" Techno asked, sitting down at the kitchen island with a deep sigh. Phil looked over his shoulder at him with a sheepish expression.
"I finally felt well enough to do something for myself again and instantly screwed it up, huh?" Phil laughed, light with self-deprecation.
"It's almost impressive," Techno said. And pretty out of character, considering how good at cooking Phil usually was.
"I got distracted by Kristin calling me, they're heading to the airport right now."
"That's good." Techno watched as Phil scraped the non-burned egg onto two plates, abandoning the rest to the sink. Phil put the plate in front of him and Techno merely frowned down at it.
"Are you not feeling well?" Phil asked, sitting down beside him.
"I'm fine. You're going back to work tomorrow, right?"
Phil did not answer his question, reaching out a hand to feel Techno's forehead. "Do you have a fever? You might have caught what I had."
"I'm fine," Techno said, pushing the plate away from himself and getting up.
"Techno..." Phil started. But after taking a step or so, Techno was already bending double again. He couldn't inhale properly. He started to cough. And he couldn't seem to stop.
It burned. Why did his insides burn?
"You're not fine, you're coughing up a lung," Phil said, at his side in an instant. "Let's get you back to bed, mate."
Techno wanted to protest, but Phil took his wrist and squeezed it, gently leading him out into the hallway.
"No buts," Phil said. "You took care of me for a whole week. Let me take care of you now."
He might have put up more of a fight if the notion of falling back into bed wasn't so damn appealing. Phil squeezed again, softly. Techno smiled. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to let Phil fuss over him, just a little bit. Techno could almost admit it was nice.
Hopefully, any assassins held off on murdering Phil for just another week.
