J² Fic: Quarantine (7/?)
Title: Quarantine (7/?)
Characters: Jared/Jensen
Word Count: 1300/?
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: Thanks to some lovely comments I'm finally finishing this! Yay, to the magic of comments! It's short, but it is a start :)
***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
***
“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.
***
Miles is the picture of calm. All casual, arms crossed, while he leans against the foot of the bed.
He throws a glance over his shoulder to check with his colleague. The woman clutches her clipboard even closer to her chest and shoots Miles a look, a mixture of confusion and curiosity on her face.
"Why don't you go ahead, I’ll catch up with you later," he breaks the silence.
A smile unfurls at the corners of her lips, but she slips out of the room without another word.
Miles turns back to Jensen and studies the medical file for a second.
“Jensen, listen,” he pauses to wet his lips, gathering what he’s going to say next. “This is not entirely bad news.”
He looks up, when Jensen stays silent. He takes in the painful look then that even the actor can't hide.
“Jensen," he tries softly.
The blond stops him in his motions, one hand held out almost defensively. He presses his fist against his mouth, struggling not to be sick.
"Breathe, Jensen. Come on, buddy,” Miles is practically sitting on the bed now, rubbing Jensen’s back.
Jensen stays hunched over for another minute or so, before the feeling subsides and he slumps back against the pillows.
"..I-I’m okay now," he utters, and rakes his fingers through his damp hair.
"Want something for the nausea?"Jensen shakes his head and Miles raises an eyebrow. “Fine, but I’ll put you back on the IV. We need to keep you hydrated.”
He looks up at Miles, his eyes red and glazed from fever. “Shit, man. How can you be so freaking calm about this? How is this not bad news?”
“Jensen,” the young doctor tries to reason, as he sets down the file.
“No. Please, do tell,” Jensen snarls.
“Type A is the most contagious type, but it’s also the most common one. Usually we’d just put you off work and sent you home with an anti-viral drug. This doesn’t mean anything,” he answers calmly.
“So what’s the ‘but’?”
“Well, with the whole bird flu disaster, the authorities are taking this swine flu outbreak pretty hard. There’s a pretty good chance that this is just the common flu.”
“Pretty good chance, huh?” Jensen's words are dripping with sarcasm.
Miles continues to hang the new IV bag on the stand and reaches out for his patient’s hand, but Jensen continues to frown at him. Miles huffs, his gaze drops and his shoulders slump a little. “Come on, give me your hand.”
“No. I’m sick of this,” Jensen says louder than intended.
Miles swallows. “Damn. And here I thought you might actually enjoy being pricked and prodded by me.” His tone is playful and he really can’t hide his smirk.
Jensen glares at him for another second, but then his eyes soften and he snorts. “I swear to god," he facepalms himself. "You’re unbelievable! I’m enjoying this way too much.”
“Well, how about we’ll get you all patched up now and then I’ll go and try to get a hold of Jared for you, okay?”
Jensen’s eyes light up at the mention of the name. “Can I talk to him?”
“If you let me do my job, you just might,” he nods towards the IV bag and waits for Jensen’s arm to connect the line to his port.
Jensen lowers his gaze and extends his hand. “I’m sorry, man. I know this is not your fault... or your problem. I’m acting like an ass. I just... I had to take it out on someone and I'm sorry it had to be you.”
“I don’t blame you,” Miles shrugs and opens the drip. Jensen opens his mouth to speak but is cut off, “Really, it’s cool. I get it.”
Miles grabs the little swivel chair from the corner and rolls closer. “Come on, the throat swab and we’re done.”
Jensen feels the sweat build up as he eyes the long cotton swab waiting for him on the metal tray. Miles puts on a new pair of gloves and spins around on the chair to face Jensen.
“Open up.” Jensen rolls his eyes and Miles takes the moment to get the q-tip down his throat, scraping off a sample quickly.
“Don’t be a drama queen,” Miles smiles to himself, as Jensen continues to cough and gag. He carefully puts the swab in a bag and throws his gloves into the near-by bin. “All done. How’s the headache?”
“Better,” Jensen croaks.
“Good, 'cause I need you to get some more sleep. We don’t want your fever getting worse.”
“I’m fine,” Jensen grumbles, and grabs for his own file. “Can you give me my glasses?”
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he blurts out.
“Yeah well...I mostly wear contacts. Glasses bother me and get in the way of things, but I had to take my contacts out on the plane.”
“Uhm, you didn’t have a lot on you when you were admitted...," he trails off and gets up to get the clothes out of one of the closets.
"Let's have a look!" He puts the bundle in Jensen’s lap and watches him rummaging, but he comes up empty handed.
“Fuck, I must’ve left them in my coat," Jensen sighs deeply, after checking all the pockets. "That's all, right?"
"I believe so." Miles takes clothes and files out of Jensen’s hands. “I’ll call Jared, maybe try to find some glasses for you. You rest. I’ll wake you in…,” he glances at his watch, “two hours.”
“Miles, wait…,” Jensen begins, awkwardly scratching his arm. ”Thanks for doing this.”
The young man smiles, gives him a curt nod and stands up to leave. “Sleep! Don’t make me sedate you, Jensen. You know I will,” he quips, as he dims the lights.
Jensen does glare a little, but lies back down. He closes his eyes, waiting for the exhaustion coursing through his body to pull him into sleep.
***
“Awww, look at you, all chipper,” the young woman says with a relish. "Would that have anything to do with your new favorite patient?"
Miles’ face closes over, but he says, "I'd claim I was insulted by the fact that apparently you seem to have forgotten that I am a professional but I have the feeling it might be pointless."
"You have good taste, Sullivan, I’ll give you that,” she concedes, completely ignoring his statement.
"I don't have time for this, Leah" Miles tells her off. “Are we gonna finish up here or not?” He strides down the hall, but walks slowly enough for her to catch up to him.
Leah jogs a few steps and falls in pace with him.
"So you do have a crush,” she insists, tossing Miles an amused look as they enter the lab.
"No, I don't,” he dismisses his co-worker’s teases, “I mean he's pretty and all, but, well, I don't really think he’s gay. Not for me anyway."
“What is that supposed to mean? You look like a male underwear model, Sullivan,” she bumps him in the side with her elbow and holds out a hot cup of java. Miles accepts her offering with an dramatic eye-roll and they sip in silence for a few minutes.
“Well, then he must be straight.” he finally concludes for her.
“… or blind,” she chirps.
The irony is not lost on him. “Yeah… do we have spare glasses?”
“I like the way you think, Sullivan,” she laughs and blows him a kiss from across the room before she focuses back on her sample under the microscope.
***
Chapter 8
***
Thank you for reading.
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