J² Fic: Quarantine (6/?)
Title: Quarantine (6/?)
Characters: Jared/Jensen
Word Count: 2300/?
Warning: G. Unfortunately unbeta-ed.
A/N: Written for the lovely
mad_server and her awesome Again but with Colds comment-fic meme. It kinda started a life of its own now...
A/N2: I keep trying to get this done for you guys, but it's really hard. I think I can't promise more than an update per week. I'm really sorry, Bear with me guys! I try hard to make it worth it!
***
One month after H1N1 arrived on its shores, China puts up stringent quarantine measures to prevent a pandemic of the disease ... As so many other Americans Jensen and Jared get caught in one of the dragnets.
From the beginning
***
“I'm afraid they won’t let anybody close while he’s in quarantine." He only confirms Jared’s biggest fear.
“I can check with their lab tomorrow morning and get the results,” he offers his help. "We can work something out from there, okay?”
Every instinct in Jared tells him that No! this is not fucking okay. Not at all. But he finds his own body nodding in reply.
Jared’s determined, this swine flu thing is not going to happen to them. He won’t let it happen.
But all he can do at the moment is wait for the sun to set and rise on a new day.
***
Jensen stirs when he comes to. For a brief moment he’s considering whether to open his eyes or not. He’s pretty damn sure he’s in a hospital, but does he really want airtight confirmation?
Drifting back to sleep doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, when he thinks about how much his body aches.
In the end he decides to be brave, so he cracks one eye open, only to find himself in more darkness. A dim light, leaving some kind of moonshine glimmer on the foot of his bed, is the only source of illumination, besides a few burry control lamps.
His head’s throbbing and he’s still shivering badly, but his mind is a lot less foggy. Whatever they've given him seems to start showing some effects.
Memories wash back, and even though it feels like all this has just happened to a different person, like scenes of a movie playing out in his head, he’s hyperaware of the fact that this is happening to him; this is real. Jensen is freaking out.
An intuitive hand reaches out and screens the bedside table for his glasses, but his usual spot, level with his head, is empty. He leans over to his other side and gropes blindly in the dark, when a sharp pain stills him in his movements.
“Christ,” he hisses and rolls back to investigate the pain in his hand.
He feels it more than that he sees the IV line that is still taped to the back of his hand, though the butterfly needle is no longer puncturing his skin. Instead he notices a small wet sensation where the solution is dribbling down his arm now. With his free hand he feels along the small plastic tube until he reaches the flow regulator and closes the roller clamp.
Feeling a body check is in order to better evaluate the situation, he checks for more equipment attached to his body. Relief fills him when his hands confirm he’s catheter-free. Other than that, there’s only one more wire leading to his thorax area and the common nasal cannula providing him with pure oxygen.
All in all, these are pretty regular temporary measures. He’d expected worse.
“Jay?” he whispers into the darkness of the room, immediately feeling foolish when a pathetic version of his voice penetrates the silence.
Jared doesn’t answer him...well, if that's not enough to get his something's-up-here radar going, then what is?
Jensen has pulled a lot of shit in the past to simply know that Jared not pacing in front of the door or being cramped in one of the ridiculously tiny hospital chairs means trouble.
No longer attached to the IV drip he makes quick use of his newly attained freedom. He disconnects the heart monitor with a quick pull on the 3-wire adapter resting on his collarbone and takes one last breath of pure oxygen, before he heads for the slide door to find Jared and further investigate the situation that’s slowly unfolding itself in front of him.
His feet have barely touched the ground when he feels his knees give out.
One would think he would’ve learned that lesson by now... well, he’s Jensen. And Jensen doesn’t do weak. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself and see where it got him.
It’s mostly instinct and years of playing Dean Winchester that are the only reasons he is able to grasp for the side rail and lower himself to the ground in a swift motion and for that matter avoiding another close contact with the floor.
He leans his head against the cool metal of the bed’s undercarriage and breathes through the nausea. It’s more like panting and his heart is banging against the inside of his ribcage, but he can handle this. He just needs to close his eyes and breathe.
Seconds pass while he waits impatiently for his body to regain some strength. The incessant noise of the beeping monitor announcing cardiac arrest hurts Jensen's pounding head, and he wants it to stop. But it keeps going, never ceasing.
With the benefit of hindsight it was rather wishful thinking believing he could just wonder around the hospital looking for Jared without anybody noticing his disappearance. Speaking of the devil, he hears movement outside and soon after, the glass door slides open and light fills the room.
He wants to speak, to tell someone to shut off the blasted noise, but his voice fails him. He coughs, long and crackling, into his fist, and he’s reminded that he’s actually sick.
“Hey man, you with me?”
A guy appears in front of him and the next thing he knows, white light is piercing through his pupils burning black holes somewhere deep inside his brain. He’s still squinting even though the flashlight is long gone; the guy's focus lying on his carotid artery now.
“Alright, time to get you back to bed. I'm just gonna help you out a little here. And, up we go.” He announces his next action, before he skillfully manhandles the fully-grown man in front of him back onto his feet and into the hospital bed.
“Ok, let’s get you hooked up again, shall we?” The guy in scrubs gently pushes his chest down until he finally settles back into the pillow. The man gives him an approving look and his eyes crinkle around the corner, the face mask hiding his reassuring smile.
Jensen looks up at him with big eyes, but he relaxes a little when the other man continues talking.
“You gave me quiet a scare, when your alarm went off. Next time you can just use the buzzer to get my attention, you know. And who knows, you might not end up on the floor for a change,” the young man chuckles lightly, American accent prominent when he hisses the ‘s’.
“So let’s see what we had for dinner“ The preposition sounds a lot more like ‘fur’, than the required ‘for’. “Oh I see, sodium chloride. Good choice,” he smirks.
“You from Chicago?” Jensen croaks out, nodding towards him.
“Now that’s embarrassing. Is it that obvious?”
Jensen winces when a new needle punctures his skin a few inches above the old spot.
“But we are still in Singapore, aren’t we?” Jensen wonders.
“Correct, we’re at Changi General Hospital. You know what day it is?”
“Tuesday?” he guesses.
Checking his watch the younger man answers: “Well, technically it’s Wednesday. Sun will come up in a few hour or so.”
He connects the last wires to Jensen’s monitoring system, and then presses the nurse call buzzer into Jensen’s right hand. “Next time this should be your weapon of choice. I promise it will work just as well on me as giving me a heart attack by faking you own asystolia did.”
“I didn’t…” Jensen wants to explain himself, but he’s tired and words take a lot out of him, a lot he doesn’t have right now.
He focuses on the important things instead. “Where’s Jared?”
This puts a questioning look on the guy’s face. He checks again, like he didn’t quiet catch the name: “Who?”
“Jared. My… the guy, who was … Jared Padalecki. Tall, floppy brown hair. He’s kinda like a Great Dane in a human kind of way, if that makes any sense,” he stumbles through his thoughts.
“I know, I know. I haven’t seen him around though. Was he hospitalized with you?”
“No, he must’ve come in after the ambulance. He’s looking for me. He’s my emergency contact.”
There's no ‘I think...' or ‘he might...’. Jensen just knows Jared's looking for him, because he’d do the exact same thing.
“Well, this is a quarantine ward, they won’t let anybody up here unless they’re staff. I’ll tell you what, we’ll have your test results in a few hours, I’ll try to get a hold of him then."
When Jensen doesn't look reassured in any way, he continues, "Seriosuly man, there's nothing I can do at 3 o'clock in the morning. I'll notify him, when we know what's happening with you, alright? And you should try and get some more sleep till then. Need anything else?”
When Jensen shakes his head, the man in scrubs pats his knee and turns around with a wink, “And remember to use the buzzer, I can’t handle another escape attempt of yours!” This guy never seems to get tired of laughing heartedly.
When the doctor finally leaves the room, Jensen is torn between rolling his eyes in embarrassment, glaring after him for being way too cheerful - way too Jared - and giving in to the urge to close his burning eyes. So he chooses to do just that.
He's out like a light in no time.
***
When Jensen wakes again, the sun’s up already, lulling the room in a warm light. The arrangement of the cubicle is rather spartanic, but Jensen’s pretty sure this is the Ritz luxury version of a bed in a triage clinic. The network must’ve pulled some strings.
Like clockwork, the door slides open again and the black-haired American enters with a food container and puts it onto the over-bed table.
“Feeling any better, Mr. Ackles?” Gentle blue eyes watch him closely.
Jensen gives the young man a quick glance-over in the daylight. He can’t be that much younger than him. Maybe 2, maybe 3 years... Jared's age.
“It’s Jensen," he rasps.
“Ok, Jensen then. Miles.” He makes a self-presenting gesture with one hand, while he’s pushing buttons on Jensen’s heart monitor.
“How’s your head? Pain? Any nausea?” he asks meanwhile.
“Bit of a headache.” Jensen grumbles.
“I take it you have a jackhammer pounding in your head then?”
The fine lines of pain around Jensen’s eyes smooth for a moment and make way for a genuine little smile.
“How’s that cough of yours?”
“Sleep-depriving.”
Miles nods and pulls the stethoscope from around his neck. “Okay, let’s hear that.”
He listens to Jensen’s breathing for a minute, before he makes an acknowledging sound. “So whatever the test results say, we need to make sure that you don’t develop pneumonia, but your lungs are clear for now, so that’s good.”
He removes the electrodes from Jensen’s chest and puts a pulse oximeter onto Jensen’s finger instead.
“This will do the trick for now. You’re not planning on doing anything stupid again, right?” Miles inquires with a quirked-up eyebrow, before he turns his gaze back to the little monitor showing Jensen's vital signs. “Your temperature is up again, but that’s good news for once. Means, I can finally give you something for the pain.”
“Are you allergic to anything?” the black-haired man asks over his shoulder while he gets a vial out of the wall cabinet and draws the fluid up into the syringe. When Jensen shakes his head no, he unscrews the IV line from Jensen's port and pushes the drug straight into his bloodstream.
“This should kick in in like 5 minutes or so. It will help with the body aches and the migraine. I’m not giving you an antipyretic just yet. As long as you’re temperature stays pretty constant, your body can fight off whatever this is on its own. I’m also gonna leave you off the IV for a bit, but you need to stay hydrated, especially when you’re running a fever. Here.” He fills a glass of water and puts it in Jensen’s hands, who finishes it compliantly.
”Feeling up for some food?”
Slowly Jensen becomes aware of the dull ache in his stomach. He didn't pay it any attention earlier, it’s been a fairly constant feeling and he’s been able to ignore it. But for the first time he feels like he can actually stomach something without having to re-experience the remains of it shortly after.
Miles lifts the lid from the container and presents two pieces of toast, some cereal and a banana. Jensen eyes the items vaguely, before he grabs the banana, peels it, and takes a small bite, which earns him another facemask-hidden smile from his guardian.
The young doctor drops back in the only chair in the room and eyes him curiously. “So Jensen, what brings you to Singapore?” he asks like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to sit here and keep him company.
“Work,” Jensen mumbles around another cautious bite of the fruit.
Miles chuckles. “Yeah, I figured that much. I don’t live under a rock. Well, most of the time I don’t.”
“We were heading to Sydney, got some promotion work lined up. A few interviews, a photo shoot. They pulled me out at the airport.” He tries not to be too short of words, even though his throat hurts like the banana’s just been dipped in sulfuric acid.
“What ‘bout you?” he tries to get Miles to do the talking.
“I flew in with Doctors Without Borders about 2 weeks ago. They're looking desperately for medically trained personnel out here and I’ve been working in the centers of epidemics for the past 7 years. They call, I’ll jump on a plane.” His hand makes a ‘no big deal’ motion.
“Aren’t you ... worried?” Jensen gestures between the both of them.
“Oh you mean to catch something? Don’t worry, I’m invincible.” The wide smile he flashes this time actually pulls his mask from his nose. He pulls it down all the way like he's making his point, before he continues. “For what I know, you might not even have H1N1. I’ve been working the Infection ward for the past two weeks now and I’m as healthy as a horse.”
Jensen almost chokes on the last bit of banana, when Miles’ alarm suddenly goes off in his pocket and makes him jump like the guy’s just been electrocuted.
“Jeez, one day this thing’s gonna go off and give me a proper heart attack and then what?” he murmurs into his three-day-old stubble, while he waves into Jensen’s direction and leaves the room.
When the door slides open again minutes later, Miles is accompanied by a woman in a white lab coat. Her long black hair is tied up into a strict ponytail and she nods Jensen a quick ‘good morning’, before she draws her eyes back onto the chart in her hands.
“Well Mr. Ackles, I'm not gonna sugarcoat it. Your test came back positive for Type A influenza. We’re going to move you to a different station later in the morning, where we’ll do another test to make sure whether you've been exposed to H1N1 or if we're dealing with a different strain. Hopefully we'll have the final results by tomorrow afternoon, so we can start you on your treatment then.”
Jensen can feel his features slip at her words.
“Even though your system has been compromised due to the dehydration, chances are very good that you’ll fully respond to the medication without further complications.”
“Complications?” He swallows hard.
***
Part Seven
****
Thank you for reading.
I would be delighted, if you find the time to drop me a line.
Spread the sick!jensen love
Characters: Jared/Jensen
Word Count: 2300/?
Warning: G. Unfortunately unbeta-ed.
A/N: Written for the lovely
mad_server and her awesome Again but with Colds comment-fic meme. It kinda started a life of its own now...
A/N2: I keep trying to get this done for you guys, but it's really hard. I think I can't promise more than an update per week. I'm really sorry, Bear with me guys! I try hard to make it worth it!
***
One month after H1N1 arrived on its shores, China puts up stringent quarantine measures to prevent a pandemic of the disease ... As so many other Americans Jensen and Jared get caught in one of the dragnets.
From the beginning
***
“I'm afraid they won’t let anybody close while he’s in quarantine." He only confirms Jared’s biggest fear.
“I can check with their lab tomorrow morning and get the results,” he offers his help. "We can work something out from there, okay?”
Every instinct in Jared tells him that No! this is not fucking okay. Not at all. But he finds his own body nodding in reply.
Jared’s determined, this swine flu thing is not going to happen to them. He won’t let it happen.
But all he can do at the moment is wait for the sun to set and rise on a new day.
***
Jensen stirs when he comes to. For a brief moment he’s considering whether to open his eyes or not. He’s pretty damn sure he’s in a hospital, but does he really want airtight confirmation?
Drifting back to sleep doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, when he thinks about how much his body aches.
In the end he decides to be brave, so he cracks one eye open, only to find himself in more darkness. A dim light, leaving some kind of moonshine glimmer on the foot of his bed, is the only source of illumination, besides a few burry control lamps.
His head’s throbbing and he’s still shivering badly, but his mind is a lot less foggy. Whatever they've given him seems to start showing some effects.
Memories wash back, and even though it feels like all this has just happened to a different person, like scenes of a movie playing out in his head, he’s hyperaware of the fact that this is happening to him; this is real. Jensen is freaking out.
An intuitive hand reaches out and screens the bedside table for his glasses, but his usual spot, level with his head, is empty. He leans over to his other side and gropes blindly in the dark, when a sharp pain stills him in his movements.
“Christ,” he hisses and rolls back to investigate the pain in his hand.
He feels it more than that he sees the IV line that is still taped to the back of his hand, though the butterfly needle is no longer puncturing his skin. Instead he notices a small wet sensation where the solution is dribbling down his arm now. With his free hand he feels along the small plastic tube until he reaches the flow regulator and closes the roller clamp.
Feeling a body check is in order to better evaluate the situation, he checks for more equipment attached to his body. Relief fills him when his hands confirm he’s catheter-free. Other than that, there’s only one more wire leading to his thorax area and the common nasal cannula providing him with pure oxygen.
All in all, these are pretty regular temporary measures. He’d expected worse.
“Jay?” he whispers into the darkness of the room, immediately feeling foolish when a pathetic version of his voice penetrates the silence.
Jared doesn’t answer him...well, if that's not enough to get his something's-up-here radar going, then what is?
Jensen has pulled a lot of shit in the past to simply know that Jared not pacing in front of the door or being cramped in one of the ridiculously tiny hospital chairs means trouble.
No longer attached to the IV drip he makes quick use of his newly attained freedom. He disconnects the heart monitor with a quick pull on the 3-wire adapter resting on his collarbone and takes one last breath of pure oxygen, before he heads for the slide door to find Jared and further investigate the situation that’s slowly unfolding itself in front of him.
His feet have barely touched the ground when he feels his knees give out.
One would think he would’ve learned that lesson by now... well, he’s Jensen. And Jensen doesn’t do weak. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself and see where it got him.
It’s mostly instinct and years of playing Dean Winchester that are the only reasons he is able to grasp for the side rail and lower himself to the ground in a swift motion and for that matter avoiding another close contact with the floor.
He leans his head against the cool metal of the bed’s undercarriage and breathes through the nausea. It’s more like panting and his heart is banging against the inside of his ribcage, but he can handle this. He just needs to close his eyes and breathe.
Seconds pass while he waits impatiently for his body to regain some strength. The incessant noise of the beeping monitor announcing cardiac arrest hurts Jensen's pounding head, and he wants it to stop. But it keeps going, never ceasing.
With the benefit of hindsight it was rather wishful thinking believing he could just wonder around the hospital looking for Jared without anybody noticing his disappearance. Speaking of the devil, he hears movement outside and soon after, the glass door slides open and light fills the room.
He wants to speak, to tell someone to shut off the blasted noise, but his voice fails him. He coughs, long and crackling, into his fist, and he’s reminded that he’s actually sick.
“Hey man, you with me?”
A guy appears in front of him and the next thing he knows, white light is piercing through his pupils burning black holes somewhere deep inside his brain. He’s still squinting even though the flashlight is long gone; the guy's focus lying on his carotid artery now.
“Alright, time to get you back to bed. I'm just gonna help you out a little here. And, up we go.” He announces his next action, before he skillfully manhandles the fully-grown man in front of him back onto his feet and into the hospital bed.
“Ok, let’s get you hooked up again, shall we?” The guy in scrubs gently pushes his chest down until he finally settles back into the pillow. The man gives him an approving look and his eyes crinkle around the corner, the face mask hiding his reassuring smile.
Jensen looks up at him with big eyes, but he relaxes a little when the other man continues talking.
“You gave me quiet a scare, when your alarm went off. Next time you can just use the buzzer to get my attention, you know. And who knows, you might not end up on the floor for a change,” the young man chuckles lightly, American accent prominent when he hisses the ‘s’.
“So let’s see what we had for dinner“ The preposition sounds a lot more like ‘fur’, than the required ‘for’. “Oh I see, sodium chloride. Good choice,” he smirks.
“You from Chicago?” Jensen croaks out, nodding towards him.
“Now that’s embarrassing. Is it that obvious?”
Jensen winces when a new needle punctures his skin a few inches above the old spot.
“But we are still in Singapore, aren’t we?” Jensen wonders.
“Correct, we’re at Changi General Hospital. You know what day it is?”
“Tuesday?” he guesses.
Checking his watch the younger man answers: “Well, technically it’s Wednesday. Sun will come up in a few hour or so.”
He connects the last wires to Jensen’s monitoring system, and then presses the nurse call buzzer into Jensen’s right hand. “Next time this should be your weapon of choice. I promise it will work just as well on me as giving me a heart attack by faking you own asystolia did.”
“I didn’t…” Jensen wants to explain himself, but he’s tired and words take a lot out of him, a lot he doesn’t have right now.
He focuses on the important things instead. “Where’s Jared?”
This puts a questioning look on the guy’s face. He checks again, like he didn’t quiet catch the name: “Who?”
“Jared. My… the guy, who was … Jared Padalecki. Tall, floppy brown hair. He’s kinda like a Great Dane in a human kind of way, if that makes any sense,” he stumbles through his thoughts.
“I know, I know. I haven’t seen him around though. Was he hospitalized with you?”
“No, he must’ve come in after the ambulance. He’s looking for me. He’s my emergency contact.”
There's no ‘I think...' or ‘he might...’. Jensen just knows Jared's looking for him, because he’d do the exact same thing.
“Well, this is a quarantine ward, they won’t let anybody up here unless they’re staff. I’ll tell you what, we’ll have your test results in a few hours, I’ll try to get a hold of him then."
When Jensen doesn't look reassured in any way, he continues, "Seriosuly man, there's nothing I can do at 3 o'clock in the morning. I'll notify him, when we know what's happening with you, alright? And you should try and get some more sleep till then. Need anything else?”
When Jensen shakes his head, the man in scrubs pats his knee and turns around with a wink, “And remember to use the buzzer, I can’t handle another escape attempt of yours!” This guy never seems to get tired of laughing heartedly.
When the doctor finally leaves the room, Jensen is torn between rolling his eyes in embarrassment, glaring after him for being way too cheerful - way too Jared - and giving in to the urge to close his burning eyes. So he chooses to do just that.
He's out like a light in no time.
***
When Jensen wakes again, the sun’s up already, lulling the room in a warm light. The arrangement of the cubicle is rather spartanic, but Jensen’s pretty sure this is the Ritz luxury version of a bed in a triage clinic. The network must’ve pulled some strings.
Like clockwork, the door slides open again and the black-haired American enters with a food container and puts it onto the over-bed table.
“Feeling any better, Mr. Ackles?” Gentle blue eyes watch him closely.
Jensen gives the young man a quick glance-over in the daylight. He can’t be that much younger than him. Maybe 2, maybe 3 years... Jared's age.
“It’s Jensen," he rasps.
“Ok, Jensen then. Miles.” He makes a self-presenting gesture with one hand, while he’s pushing buttons on Jensen’s heart monitor.
“How’s your head? Pain? Any nausea?” he asks meanwhile.
“Bit of a headache.” Jensen grumbles.
“I take it you have a jackhammer pounding in your head then?”
The fine lines of pain around Jensen’s eyes smooth for a moment and make way for a genuine little smile.
“How’s that cough of yours?”
“Sleep-depriving.”
Miles nods and pulls the stethoscope from around his neck. “Okay, let’s hear that.”
He listens to Jensen’s breathing for a minute, before he makes an acknowledging sound. “So whatever the test results say, we need to make sure that you don’t develop pneumonia, but your lungs are clear for now, so that’s good.”
He removes the electrodes from Jensen’s chest and puts a pulse oximeter onto Jensen’s finger instead.
“This will do the trick for now. You’re not planning on doing anything stupid again, right?” Miles inquires with a quirked-up eyebrow, before he turns his gaze back to the little monitor showing Jensen's vital signs. “Your temperature is up again, but that’s good news for once. Means, I can finally give you something for the pain.”
“Are you allergic to anything?” the black-haired man asks over his shoulder while he gets a vial out of the wall cabinet and draws the fluid up into the syringe. When Jensen shakes his head no, he unscrews the IV line from Jensen's port and pushes the drug straight into his bloodstream.
“This should kick in in like 5 minutes or so. It will help with the body aches and the migraine. I’m not giving you an antipyretic just yet. As long as you’re temperature stays pretty constant, your body can fight off whatever this is on its own. I’m also gonna leave you off the IV for a bit, but you need to stay hydrated, especially when you’re running a fever. Here.” He fills a glass of water and puts it in Jensen’s hands, who finishes it compliantly.
”Feeling up for some food?”
Slowly Jensen becomes aware of the dull ache in his stomach. He didn't pay it any attention earlier, it’s been a fairly constant feeling and he’s been able to ignore it. But for the first time he feels like he can actually stomach something without having to re-experience the remains of it shortly after.
Miles lifts the lid from the container and presents two pieces of toast, some cereal and a banana. Jensen eyes the items vaguely, before he grabs the banana, peels it, and takes a small bite, which earns him another facemask-hidden smile from his guardian.
The young doctor drops back in the only chair in the room and eyes him curiously. “So Jensen, what brings you to Singapore?” he asks like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to sit here and keep him company.
“Work,” Jensen mumbles around another cautious bite of the fruit.
Miles chuckles. “Yeah, I figured that much. I don’t live under a rock. Well, most of the time I don’t.”
“We were heading to Sydney, got some promotion work lined up. A few interviews, a photo shoot. They pulled me out at the airport.” He tries not to be too short of words, even though his throat hurts like the banana’s just been dipped in sulfuric acid.
“What ‘bout you?” he tries to get Miles to do the talking.
“I flew in with Doctors Without Borders about 2 weeks ago. They're looking desperately for medically trained personnel out here and I’ve been working in the centers of epidemics for the past 7 years. They call, I’ll jump on a plane.” His hand makes a ‘no big deal’ motion.
“Aren’t you ... worried?” Jensen gestures between the both of them.
“Oh you mean to catch something? Don’t worry, I’m invincible.” The wide smile he flashes this time actually pulls his mask from his nose. He pulls it down all the way like he's making his point, before he continues. “For what I know, you might not even have H1N1. I’ve been working the Infection ward for the past two weeks now and I’m as healthy as a horse.”
Jensen almost chokes on the last bit of banana, when Miles’ alarm suddenly goes off in his pocket and makes him jump like the guy’s just been electrocuted.
“Jeez, one day this thing’s gonna go off and give me a proper heart attack and then what?” he murmurs into his three-day-old stubble, while he waves into Jensen’s direction and leaves the room.
When the door slides open again minutes later, Miles is accompanied by a woman in a white lab coat. Her long black hair is tied up into a strict ponytail and she nods Jensen a quick ‘good morning’, before she draws her eyes back onto the chart in her hands.
“Well Mr. Ackles, I'm not gonna sugarcoat it. Your test came back positive for Type A influenza. We’re going to move you to a different station later in the morning, where we’ll do another test to make sure whether you've been exposed to H1N1 or if we're dealing with a different strain. Hopefully we'll have the final results by tomorrow afternoon, so we can start you on your treatment then.”
Jensen can feel his features slip at her words.
“Even though your system has been compromised due to the dehydration, chances are very good that you’ll fully respond to the medication without further complications.”
“Complications?” He swallows hard.
***
Part Seven
****
Thank you for reading.
I would be delighted, if you find the time to drop me a line.
Spread the sick!jensen love