Tweak

InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I solemnly swear..."

Seamus Finnigan (openbottle) wrote in finnigans_rpg,
@ 2015-05-05 14:30:00

Entry tags:

character: dean thomas, character: dominic chambers, character: seamus finnigan

Assistance arrives
Who: Seamus, Dean, Dominic
What: Seamus is not feeling well...
Where: Finnigan's, Seamus's flat
When: Tuesday 5th May, Lunchtimeish?
Rating: SFW for now

For the first hour after he'd opened, Seamus had managed a sort of grim gritted-teeth smile as he greeted the few regulars who came in this early, usually looking for early lunch or late breakfast. As more and more painful minutes had dragged on, though, even that had become impossible and Seamus now looked as miserable as he felt. Pain flared and stabbed at his abdomen so badly that his gaze kept being drawn back to the floo fire, wondering whether he should just shut down and go to St Mungo's. Maybe he had appendicitis or some other massive internal injury. He stayed put, telling himself it wasn't likely, that the lack of sleep of the last few nights was making it impossible to think clearly.

"Are you alright, lad?" one of his customers asked. Seamus jumped. He hadn't seen the man coming, but he quickly strived to put the smile back on his face.

"I'm fine," he insisted. "Bit of a headache." He didn't even have the energy left to make some joke about drinking his own wares. Though the customer protested, Seamus insisted on refilling his glass - free of charge - and then sent him back to his chess board.

Seamus had known he would crash. He always did after his almost-manic attempts to keep everything together through Victis Honor day. Usually, he came down with a nasty cold immediately afterwards, too stressed and tired for his immune system to fight it. Other years, he'd just wanted to sleep for days. He'd really though it would hold off until after his chess match against Ron on Thursday, but apparently he'd been way off the mark.

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openbottle
2015-05-05 10:36 pm UTC (link)

Seamus managed a small smile when Dean felt his forehead. "I'm fine," he said - even though he wasn't at all sure that he was. "Or I will be." It was like having a bad stitch, that didn't go away whether he moved or not. Plus occasional moments of nausea that had convinced him to skip chef's generous offer of square sausage and egg for breakfast.

He didn't need to lean on Dean too much as they headed up the stairs - but he was grateful that the wards accepted them both without Seamus needing to adjust them, because he wasn't certain he could focus enough to perform any magic right now.

"Okay," he said, once they reached the door. "Upstairs: done." He winced, applying pressure that didn't really do anything to stop the pain. He made a pained, unhappy noise in his throat but then pushed the door open.

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artistdean
2015-05-05 11:44 pm UTC (link)

"You journalled me and two other people to come and take over immediately. That doesn't say fine to me," he said pointedly.

Dean's immediate concern was getting Seamus upstairs safely, and once that was done he relaxed fractionally. Nobody had fallen down the stairs. An excellent start.

He noticed that Seamus was clutching at his stomach, which was at least a good indication of where the pain was. He shuffled him through the door and aimed the pair of them at the sofa. "Okay, you're going to sit down," he said, steering him into the corner so he could sit propped up or lie down if he wanted. Then he noticed the owl sitting waiting, an owl he recognised. Apparently Seamus had sent a message to Adrian too. That could wait a minute.

"Right," he said, once Seamus was sitting. "Tell me about the pain."

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openbottle
2015-05-06 01:46 pm UTC (link)

Seamus sat down slowly, afraid that any sudden movement would just make whatever the hell was going on that much worse. "I didn't know who'd be free," he said, his voice sounding both a little pathetic and a little petulant. "You-" he raised an accusatory finger at Dean -"sometimes don't check your journal for hours. Bryn has another job and is trying to open his own business. And Dominic..." The pointed finger turned into a vague gesture somehow meant to indicate that Dominic was not the easiest man to track down. "I only needed one of you, really." Not that he wasn't grateful to have both. Otherwise he'd be up here alone right now, wondering whether he ought to floo to the hospital before it got worse.

He stretched his legs out on the couch, resting his cheek against the back of it and still pressing into his stomach. When he noticed the owl he almost got up again, then took a sharp breath. "Is that from Adrian?" he asked, hoping Dean wouldn't mind checking since he was already up. "I asked for some pain potion." The words focused him back on Dean's question and he gave a tiny shrug. "It hurts," he whined. "My stomach. I don't know why. Could just be hungry, I guess?" But hunger didn't usually feel like this.

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artistdean
2015-05-06 02:54 pm UTC (link)

"Yes, well you get past Victis Honor and collapse like a sack of pumpkins," he said, rolling his eyes, his worry making him sound more sarcastic than normal. "Forgive me for being a bit more vigilant than usual." He hovered as Seamus sat down, not quite sure what to do to help immediately, not wanting smother him. "I'm glad Dominic came too," he said softly. He knew that if he'd been stuck downstairs he'd have been frantic and have been deeply tempted to close up and take care of Seamus instead.

When Seamus noticed the owl he nodded. "Yeah, it's from Adrian, I recognise the owl," he said, eyeing Seamus' hand on his stomach as he moved over to retrieve the message and accompanying potion. He read the note and tried not to show his surprise and fear at what he read. If Adrian wasn't allowing any more potion without a note he'd obviously asked for something strong. "Wait for a note back?" he asked the owl, which hooted softly in reply. He crossed back to Seamus. "Okay, well if you've not eaten I don't know if you should be having all of this," he said, assessing the vial. It wasn't a generous dose, but if Seamus truly was hungry it wasn't going to do anything but mask the symptoms, plus some things weren't good on an empty stomach.

"Now, I'm no healer, but can I have a feel?" he asked. He could at least work out if there was actually any particular points of pain or it felt really hot or hard. Not exactly how or why he wanted to get his hands on Seamus, but that was pretty much as far from his mind as it could be right now.

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openbottle
2015-05-07 01:32 pm UTC (link)

Seamus felt irrational anger flash through him at Dean's words. They were completely true - which only made them hurt more than they would have if they'd been inaccurate. Despite the good front he'd been able to put on for most of the weekend, he'd still felt a sort of sick helplessness in the pit of his stomach the entire time. Did Battlescars really help anyone? Was there anything Seamus could do to make his friends lives any better after the tragedies they'd all suffered? It didn't seem like it some days, and the extra energy he expended on Victis Honor only made it worse, because he still couldn't do anything, even when he was bending all his will towards it.

He tried to get up, to prove he wasn't as useless as all that, but Dean was already getching the potion and Seamus was left half-sitting up and looking furious as well as pained. "I don't want to eat," he groused, trying to ease the pain-relief potion out of Dean's hands. The idea of solid food turned his stomach, even though he knew it might be helpful. He was still stewing over Dean's words, his anger as silent as Dean's was loud and explosive. For all that, he didn't actually push Dean away. He let his hand fall in grudging invitation. "It doesn't feel like anything."

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artistdean
2015-05-07 11:48 pm UTC (link)

Dean registered the fury on Seamus' face and winced. His worry had clearly ticked over too far into sarcasm and being biting. And the fact he was half-sitting up too was a horrible sign, especially since he'd seemed mildly less pained when lying down. "Look, don't get me wrong, what you do for everybody is amazing, but you run yourself ragged and end up getting ill, and I worry okay?" he said, slightly plaintive. Usually it was just a cold, and while no fun it wasn't actually all that alarming. Stomach pain though? Definitely alarming.

"I was thinking soup that's mostly stock, or at least a cup of tea," he said. He summoned a cup from the kitchen and poured about half the dose of pain killing potion into it and set it on the table, re-sealing the other half and putting it in his pocket. He knew from experience Adrian's vials wouldn't break, or hurt for a little carrying in his pocket for a while. If Seamus still needed it later he could have it. He wanted to check his stomach over first though, then he'd hand the potion over.

He debated internally for a few seconds and decided not to raise Seamus' shirt. He was sure Healers probably would, but Seamus was irritated enough right now. He began pressing firmly but carefully on Seamus' right side where his appendix would be and worked across. He was watching his face for any reaction. His stomach certainly didn't feel especially hard or warm. "You've not been sick? Or felt like you were about to be?"

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openbottle
2015-05-13 01:41 pm UTC (link)

There wasn't a lot of argument Seamus could make to Dean's words. He wasn't sure what he did qualified as 'amazing', but he wasn't in a mood to complain. Dean would only try to correct him and Seamus didn't want to seem like he was fishing for compliments. He couldn't even say he was fine - because he was still worried himself. For lack of anything better to do, he lowered himself back to the couch and watched as Dean portioned out the potion.

He made weak grabby hands for the cup, but the table was too far away for him to reach easily. He frowned and shook his head. "Soup will take too long." He'd prefer soup to tea right now, really, but he didn't have any of those muggle tins or packets that made soup fast, so Dean would either have to make it properly or else go out and buy it - either of which would take longer than Seamus was willing to wait for his pain potion.

When Dean started pressing at his stomach, Seamus firmly sealed his lips together to keep from grunting. The pressure didn't really make any difference to the amount of pain, which probably meant it was internal, or something. Seamus didn't know if that was good or bad and he couldn't help but wish Justin or Ernie were around. He didn't much like St Mungo's anymore, but either of them could have told him if there was anything seriously wrong. "Felt like, a bit," he answered. "When I move too fast."

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artistdean
2015-05-18 03:47 pm UTC (link)

"I've got frozen stock and some noodles at home, and I'll heat it with magic, it'll take five minutes at most," he said. It wouldn't have vast amounts of flavour, but it should help and give him time before he needed to try and feed Seamus anything else. Also, of course, it was relatively bland which meant it shouldn't be too harsh if Seamus actually had stomach problems. "I'll make tea first though."

As he watched Seamus' face he could tell that pressing did hurt him, but it didn't seem like it was necessarily hurting him any more than without Dean's hands pressing on him. Or at the very least there was no indication that it was his appendix. Not that he was sure exactly where that would be located but he managed to press enough that he was about ninety five percent sure that wasn't the problem. What he wouldn't have given for a little more knowledge or a person he could call on, but that wasn't possible right now. He nodded at Seamus' description of only feeling sick in those circumstances. He was feeling vaguely sick himself, but he knew that was only worry. "No moving fast then," he said firmly.

Once he was relatively satisfied that there was no massive problem as far as he could tell he took his hands away from Seamus' stomach and handed over the mug with the painkiller in it. "Here, I'm taking the fact you didn't try and flinch too much or lamp me as a good sign. You should take it," he said. He was hovering faintly, not really wanting to leave Seamus' side. That was certainly a common thought recently, but this was far more related to worry than his feelings, or maybe it was extra worry because of his feelings. It took him a little while to realise what he was doing and he coughed slightly before waving his wand to start the tea brewing.

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openbottle
2015-05-19 02:00 pm UTC (link)

Seamus opened his mouth to protest - then shut it again when he couldn't think of a legitimate reason to do so. He didn't want Dean to leave, but it would only take a few minutes and Seamus knew it was ridiculously needy to complain over such a small fragment of time. Nothing bad was going to happen while Dean was away.

"No moving," Seamus agreed, because now that he was settled on the couch he really didn't want to get up and go anywhere. He cupped the mug carefully in both hands as Dean handed it over, lifting it and draining it in one swallow. It tasted foul - which only reassured him of its strength. The weaker pain potions could be masked with sugary tastes, but the good stuff was always bitter and unpleasant. In direct disobedience with his own words, he handed the cup back to Dean (who was hovering conveniently close for such a task) and then slid down to lie properly on the couch, his toes butting against the armrest as he slowly, carefully, stretched out. Even though the potion would take a few minutes to kick in, lying was infinitely better than sitting and Seamus breathed easier.

Still trying to make himself comfortable, Seamus slipped the button of his jeans and tugged his t-shirt down to cover the slight gape. His waistband was far from tight on him, but even so the loosening seemed to ease the throb of the pain. He turned his head to look up at Dean, catching his wand movement out of the corner of his eye. "I haven't been sleeping," he said, somewhat sheepishly. He seemed to have swallowed his anger with the potion, and was left feeling emotionally numb. If that could spread to physically numb, he'd be too grateful to complain.

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artistdean
2015-05-19 10:04 pm UTC (link)

As soon as Seamus was settled he'd apparate back to his flat and grab the ingredients and a pan and come back here to do the actual cooking. He was worried enough he didn't want to leave really, but hopefully if he gave Seamus some of the pain potion he could relax enough to be gone for two minutes.

He watched as Seamus took his potion, taking the mug back when Seamus handed it to him. He could tell by his face that it tasted as awful as ever, but at least he looked as if he might be marginally less annoyed now and attempting to relax too. He banished the cup to the sink so that it wouldn't get confused with the tea, which was brewing. Dean looked at Seamus for a few seconds before wandering over to supervise it. It was easier to add the milk by hand anyway. Or would Seamus prefer honey and lemon?

He wandered back over to find Seamus adjusting his clothes and he fixed his eyes on his face instead of his undone jeans. The quiet admission made him sigh softly. He suspected something like that might have been going on. "Time of year?" he asked gently, more a confirmation than an actual question. "I think I've only managed because I'm on potions still." His sleep had still been a little disturbed but the sleeping potion at least meant he got a decent amount of sleep and his nightmares weren't hellish.

The soft clink let him know the tea was brewed and pouring into a mug a minute or two later. "You want honey and lemon or milk?" he asked. He might have offered ginger tea if he thought Seamus actually had any, what with the feeling faintly sick thing.

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openbottle
2015-05-21 07:44 pm UTC (link)

Seamus shrugged. "I guess so." It wasn't as if he thought the time of year didn't affect him, but nor did he have worse nightmares in the days around Victis Honor day than he did at any other time. This year, in particular, he just hadn't been able to sleep. His mind wasn't racing, he didn't feel tense or afraid, he'd just lain in bed, wanting to sleep but unable to make it happen. Last night it had gotten so bad he'd wanted to scream, or break something, just to break the cycle. He hadn't, and he'd managed to get an hour or so of sleep, but it hadn't made him feel any better.

He turned onto his side so he could continue to watch Dean as he puttered about with the tea. "No milk," he decided, partly because he wasnt't at all sure the milk he had was still good. It had been a while since he'd used it. "Honey, no lemon." He wanted the sweetness, and it wasn't as if the lemon was going to cure whatever was wrong. The potion, on the other hand, was starting to take effect. The horrible weight in Seamus's stomach seemed to be easing off and he felt like he could take a proper breath for the first time all day. "Pain's getting better," he said, forcing a slight smile.

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artistdean
2015-05-21 09:25 pm UTC (link)

Dean's breath huffed out of his body as he gave Seamus a sad smile, reaching automatically to run fingers through his hair a couple of times. This time of year tended to bring out he worst in some things. In Seamus' case it was an overzealous need to help everyone else before himself, whereas Dean just tended to get a fiercer round of nightmares.

Since Dean was also making tea for himself through force of habit he picked up the milk, and because he was used to Seamus' habits he smelt it before putting it anywhere near his tea. It was just past the point he really wanted to drink it. He put honey in both lots of tea and brought the mugs over to the sofa, offering one to Seamus and wandering around to stick his own on the table. "That's good," he said, eyes still running over Seamus a few times before he was satisfied that he did appear to be relaxing at least minutely.

"I'm gonna go get food, I'll be back by the time that's drinkable," he said, gesturing at his tea. "If I'm not back and you get worse go yell for Dominic," he added sternly. Not that it was all that stern, he was more worried than actually intimidating.

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openbottle
2015-05-26 08:19 am UTC (link)

Automatically, Seamus's eyes closed as Dean's fingers stroked comfortingly through his hair. The pain was dimming, and the relief of not-hurting felt heavenly. Seamus could almost have gone to sleep like this, but when he opened his eyes again there was still worry etched in the lines of Dean's face. He sat up a little, taking the tea and cupping the mug in both hands. For once, he didn't gulp it down and burn his tongue. Instead he sipped it slowly, the liquid warming and easing the stubborn knot in his stomach.

He tipped his head back against the cushions, holding the mug close to his stomach. "Not going to get worse," he said, stubborn as it was possible to be on no sleep. He still didn't want Dean to go, but it was easier to bear now he wasn't quite so worried anything internal was going to explode.

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artistdean
2015-05-26 02:09 pm UTC (link)

Dean resisted the sudden urge lean over and kiss the top of Seamus' head and smiled at him instead. "Glad to hear it," he said, pleased that Seamus was sounding far more belligerent than he was pained.

Giving a little wave he apparated straight back into his own flat and immediately headed for the freezer, digging unerringly through his frozen leftovers and other bits and pieces to find a bag of chicken stock he'd made some time ago. Sticking the bag in one of his own pans he pulled out a cake of noodles and added that too. He opened the fridge, pulled open the salad draw and grunted in disappointment. No spring onions. Closing up again he crossed and grabbed some chives from the window ledge instead. He knew Seamus could at least manage a knife and a wooden spoon. He had pans too, but his own doubled as a handy carrying device. He ran his eyes quickly around the room and couldn't spot anything else he wanted to take with him. He apparated back again, arriving in the kitchen this time and setting the pan on the ring but not prodding it on just yet.

"Back. Hopefully you're still awake," he said, crossing to the sofa. "I've got everything. Although maybe I should have brought my milk," he said, looking at his tea ruefully.

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openbottle
2015-05-26 03:56 pm UTC (link)

Now that the pain had ebbed, and probably because having Dean around to look after him was reassuring on a deep subconscious level, Seamus was starting to feel drowsy. He continued to hold the mug of tea against his stomach like a hot water bottle, his eyes closed and his breathing slowing.

He wasn't quite asleep when he heard the slight noise of Dean's return, but he didn't open his eyes either. Everything felt a little like a dream, fuzzy around the edges. It was almost pleasant. "Just about," he murmured in response to Dean's comment. He should stay up for food, and then he should sleep. He should, but the temptation to just stop holding on to the tenuous thread of awareness keeping him awake was significant. "There's milk downstairs," he pointed out. "There's al'ays milk downstairs. S'a fucking pub." He was slurring a little, his mouth not quite opening enough to let words out whole.

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artistdean
2015-05-26 06:40 pm UTC (link)

Dean couldn't help but be both charmed and reassured by the fact that Seamus was clearly half asleep. "True, but then I'd not manage to use mine before it goes off," he said softly. "Let's just take this before you end up actually burning your stomach," he said, plucking the mug off Seamus' stomach. If he was desperate for something warm Dean could charm him something that wasn't going to result in hot liquid everywhere.

"You nap," he said, smoothing Seamus' hair off his forehead. "I'll make soup for when you wake up." A sleeping Seamus was far easier than one awake and in pain or grumpy. Of course given the amount of sleep Seamus hadn't actually had in the last few days he'd probably need to wake him so he could eat, but that wasn't so much of a problem. Maybe if he managed that and Seamus was feeling better he could convince him to get in his bed. Which meant he might be wise to change the sheets. It always made him feel better after a bout of insomnia or restless sleep.

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