Richie Foley O1000 (gearedup) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-10-11 12:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | richie foley (gear), virgil hawkins (static) |
Who:Richie and Virgil
What:illness.
When: during the grounder plot
Where:Their place
Warnings:Bloood?
status:Complete!
Virgil had made it home late the night before after helping at Neal’s Ranch. He’d heard that there had been some kind of sickness going through the centre, and though he avoided going anywhere near those who had been infected, he had still decided to help do some extra cleaning before he left.
He’d decided to crash at Richie’s place for the night, since Richie lived slightly closer to the Ranch than Virgil did, and that way they could just head into work together the next day. The problem was, when he woke up the next morning, he felt awful. He didn’t know, when he got off Richie’s couch and made his way to the kitchen for breakfast, that he already had blood running from from his eyes.
“I feel like something real big and real ugly chewed me up and spat me out last night, Rich.”
Richie was already awake, making said breakfast. That was usually how it went. He’d always been an early riser unless it was a weekend, and then only wake him if you dared face Cuthulu in the morning. Currently though he’d woken on his own and was feeling pretty good, so waffles were on the menu. He was as quiet about waffle making as he could be with Virgil on the couch.
“Did I wake you?” He frowned as he closed the lid on said waffle iron before turning around to face his friend. “...Jesus christ, maybe someone did! You’re bleeding.” Richie had nearly dropped the bowl of batter he was carrying, he hurriedly instead managed to place it on the counter. The blond ushered Virgil into a chair near by, reaching for a clean cloth and running some warm water on it to soften it up a bit and make it easier on whatever the hell was going on with his friend.
“Hey, look at me. “ He said as he knelt down to examine where the blood was coming from to figure out where to place the cloth.
“Bleeding?” Virgil asked. That didn’t make any sense. Why would he be bleeding of all things? He touched his face, and startled himself when his fingers came away with the sticky wetness. More than a little shocked, he numbly let his friend move him to his chair. His face felt a little hot, feverish, and the wet cloth felt nice against his face. Had he caught whatever it was that was going around at the Ranch?
“Maybe you should get away from me, Rich. I really don’t feel so good.”
“Like that’s ever stopped me before. Here, stand up.” Richie stood, offering him some help. “Back to bed with you. I’m sure it’s just stress.” He said as calmly as he could now, Virgil would need a rock to lean on with whatever the hell this was and he’d be damned if he was going to leave when his best friend obviously needed him the most. He reached out to hold him steady as he walked him into his own room instead of the couch-this time he’d be taking it. Gingerly he helped him into his own bed, glad for once his room was actually still clean from only recently moving in. It would make things a lot easier dealing with a sick friend that way.
Virgil still wasn’t sure if he wanted Richie so close, but it was comforting having Richie’s arms around him. It didn’t hurt that he was pretty sure he actually couldn’t walk anymore without Richie’s assistance, and he leaned heavily on him, stumbling once in awhile. It had only been a few minutes since he’d stumbled into the kitchen in the first place, but he was sure that he couldn’t even manage that anymore. He flopped face first onto the bed, and then forced himself to roll over though that took almost more effort than he was able to muster. Against his better judgement, he reached for Richie. “Stay with me for a bit?” he asked. He was actually getting kind of frightened of whatever the hell this was.
Richie made sure Virgil didn’t fall. He would take over being the rock. They worked out well that way, whenever the other needed them it didn’t matter what was in the way-it would move to make sure they got what eachother needed. “Let me just get a few essentials and I’ll be right back.” He reassured pressing the back of his hand to Virgil’s forehead to test whether or not he had a fever too, stumbling like that made him worry that he did. He was pretty good at hiding his panic now externally, but internally he was flailing like a little girl when he left the room to go to the kitchen and get said items. It didn’t take long for him to return, he had a bowl of cool water, another rag and an ice pack with him. The blond crawled into bed beside his best friend, gently pulling him a little closer to reach any heated areas of flesh in attempts to cool him down a bit. Dabbing the cloth along the side of his face and neck gingerly. In another life he might have made a decent nurse or doctor. “I’m not goin anywhere V.” No matter how much he protested, this was the only place that mattered to him. “But damn your timing, it’s new comics day remember?” He teased lightly, trying to improve his friends mood and distract him from worrying about things..
“Damn,” Virgil said weakly. He hadn’t even thought about it being new comics day, and while he knew that Richie was only teasing, but it was still regrettable that they were missing out on their usual tradition. “We’ll have to do it when I get better.” Not if. Virgil never allowed himself to think about that sort of stuff, even though he knew hemorrhagic fevers, which he was sure he had now, could be deadly. But Virgil was too much of an optimist to think that this could be the end. But Richie’s ministrations were soothing, and despite himself, he felt his eyes clothes and felt himself begin to drift off.
Richie grinned a little. “There will be other runs. “ There had to be. No way in hell was he going to let Virgil possibly die of whatever this was, stress sickness maybe. If need be he’d call in a doctor if he didn’t start to improve by morning, but for now he’d just watch. He stayed up while Virgil got drowsy. “Sleep bro, you’ll feel better.” He hopped anyway, he was vigilant with whatever it looked like Virgil needed: water, ice, both-he kept his promise and didn’t leave. Every now and then pushing a dreadlock away from his face in hopes it helped his comfort level a bit. Nobody liked hair sticking to their face, sleep or not. He reached over to see whatever kind of entertainment Virgil had in the desk near by to keep himself occupied and alert.The last thing Virgil needed was to be alone right now. Not much for reading material, school books-but at least it was science. Maybe once Virgil got a little more comfortable he could find something else-but for now he’d make due.
Aside from a couple of times during the night when Virgil woke up to vomit what seemed like an unnerving amount of blood into a bucket and to have Richie pour water down his throat, Virgil slept through the night. When he woke up in morning, he was feeling a little better. It still felt like his veins were running with lead - it took a lot of effort for even the slightest movement, but at least he no longer felt like death warmed over. He was pretty sure he’d managed to come through the worst of it intact.
“Richie?” he asked, glancing around for his friend.
Richie hadn’t slept really at all. He worried about Virgil, wondered what the hell was going on, and if it would stop. He couldn’t lose his best friend. He also could barely stay awake any longer in the wee hours of the morning, he took the bucket he’d brought with the blood and various other fluids into the bathroom to throw into the toilet and went to get himself a cup of coffee. He used the instant stuff he found in the kitchen, his own vision blurring for a moment as he went to pour the contents in and wait. He chalked it up to exhaustion and stress. He sank down into a chair with the intention of only waiting a little while for the coffee then returning to Virgil’s room when he realized his eyes had closed s he leaned at the table waiting. A heavy drowsy feeling hung over him when the sound of Virgil’s voice instantly woke him. At least he hadn’t been that deep under. “Oi, you should be back in bed.” He said sternly to his friend as he got up and found he needed to lean on the chair slightly to do so. He again brushed it off, making his way toward him to usher him back to the bedroom. “Sorry, I needed coffee. You snore like a banshee.” He teased, a hand reaching up to feel his forehead again pawing there for fever or worse. Hopefully not worse, but who the hell knew. He’d never seen any kind of sickness that caused blood to pour out of his best friends eyes.
Virgil’s fever had finally broken at some point during the night, but Richie’s hand felt uncomfortably warm against his own skin. “I’m feeling better. Really,” Virgil assured his friend. Enough to stand. At some point during the night it had taken more than Virgil had had to lean over toward the bucket. He still felt queasy, like he was going to spew at any minute, but at least he could stand. “I think the worse of it is passed. You’re not looking so hot yourself there. You get any sleep last night?”
Richie frowned at him and motioned toward a chair. “At least rest. I’ll get you toast or something.” He knew Virgl probably wouldn’t be hungry for anything solid, but fluids and bread were sick day staples at least for him. He waved off the question with a hand as he went to go get the food once he was satisfied with Virgil sitting somewhere. “‘Not really, but M’fine.” He said off handedly as he placed the food down and sit beside him, only a bit of water where he’d been at remained-not feeling overly hungry himself. “Good, no more horror movie eyes?” He teased him half heartedly as he brushed a few blond bangs from his face, he was a little paler in the light under the table. Skin tinted slightly reddish.
Virgil was glad for the toast and water. He was parched, and while he wasn’t exactly hungry, he’d definitely heaved up enough of the contents of his stomach to know that he needed it. “God, I hope not,” he said, and took a drink of water. He looked closer at Richie. His vision was still a little blurry, and it was hard to focus, but Richie looked pale. Well, paler than usual. He felt a sinking in his stomach. He couldn’t have gotten Richie sick.
“Hey man. Maybe you ought to sit down with me. You’re not looking so hot.”
Richie didn’t fight him, he wasn’t sure he had the energy to all the sudden. “I probably just need to crash a bit. But..” He looked over at Virgil in concern, he didn’t want to sleep and leave him alone with whatever this illness was. The whole eye bleeding thing had freaked him out.
Virgil read Richie’s look and shot him a reassuring, if not wan, smile. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, bro. I’m already feeling better.” The statement was punctuated by a coughing fit that flecked his shielding hand with blood. He barely glanced at it though. After spending most of the night throwing the stuff up, just coughing it up was almost reassuring. Didn’t mean he was going to let Richie know. “”Sides, it’s not like I’m going far. If I need you, I’ll just wake you up.”
Richie had never felt a fever come on this fast or hard in his life, it was a bit dizzying. He was good at hiding things from most people, but it seemed that Virgil could still read him like a book. Concern remained in his eyes at Virgil’s coughing fit. “Jeeze what a pair we make…” Richie grinned a bit pathetically, his brow was starting to show a bit of sweat, body betraying him finally in his attempts to hide his condition. He used a fist to wipe it away as he finally caved in. “You’d better.” Richie went to stand when it happened, a wave of dizzyness causing him to plant his hands down flat on the table for stability, and his eyes to shut in attempt to force it to pass. When they finally opened, there was a red tint to his eyes, blood spilling down the corners of them.
“The two of us are a mess,” Virgil said, laughing a little. They probably did make quite a sight to anyone who’d walk in. A sight from a horror movie, but a sight nonetheless. Of course, when Richie had to stabilize himself and started bleeding from the eyes, Virgil really did panic. And feel incredibly guilty. How could he have gotten the most important person in his life sick? He should have left as soon as he felt himself coming down with something.
“A’ight, you’ve got to lie down now,” Virgil croaked sternly. He grabbed Richie’s arm and pulled him toward the bed. “You’re not in for a fun couple of hours.”
“‘M fine really. I can take the couch.” But he couldn’t put up much of a fight against Virgil’s insistence if he wanted to. The blonde made a slight sound of protest, but that was about it and let himself fall into bed. He was glad he’d gotten a new one recently. It was pretty comfy against his sore muscles. “I’m glad I’m over the sweater phase of life..it’s hot enough in here.” During high school his wardrobe mostly consisted of hoodies and baggy pants, at least now it had matured to t-shirts. He removed his glasses, wincing a bit more as things went fuzzy. It hurt a little extra thanks to already having shitty eyes, bleeding certainly wasn’t helping.
“In your own crib?” Virgil asked, taking the cloth that Richie had been using to gently wipe his friend’s face. “Not on my watch. You get some shut eye, bro. I’ll keep an eye on you.” At least, he’d try to. Chances were, Virgil wouldn’t be keeping his own eyes open for much longer.
Richie gave Virgil a ‘look’ or at least he tried to before countering it with an eyeroll instead. He wasn’t really in a position to complain at the moment, he was too damn tired to try. He submitted with a hint of annoyance, though it was more exasperated than anything else-and closed his eyes to the touch. It was nice. Soothing which was exactly what his eyes needed after the angry burn of blood stung them. He let himself drift off the best he could. When he got sick he tended to sleep poorly, but it was better than nothing.