Fic: God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen
Thank you all so much for reading and giving feedback, I highly appreciate it!
Furthermore, I am still in denial about the ending of the last episode- let´s all press thumbs for season 5!
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Cabin Pressure:
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God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen, Part 6
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Martin´s rest lasted roughly half an hour, then the cough woke him again. It was painful because of his now very sore throat, and his chest hurt. He was not entirely lucid, but he did turn onto his side when Douglas suggested it, hoping it might bring a little relief.
When Arthur rang the doorbell the next morning, a little after eleven, he was greeted with the sight of a very dishevelled, tired looking First Officer.
"Merry Christmas!" Arthur said, a little worriedly, "I hope I didn't wake you up, Douglas?"
Douglas beckoned him in: "Merry Christmas. No,don´t worry, you didn't. Jessie did when she called me a few minutes ago."
"Oh, did she? Brilliant! How is she?"
"She certainly sounds like she´s got a clogged nose, but she says she´s doing much better already."
"That´s good! But Douglas- you look all ruffly!"
Douglas ran a hand through his hair:"Well, when I said I´m sure Martin´s going to sleep through the night I was sadly mistaken." He yawned. "Sorry. Anyway, neither of us has gotten much sleep."
"Oh, Douglas. I´m so sorry!" Arthur´s face fell.
"It´s okay," Douglas yawned again as he led the way to the kitchen, "he´s sleeping now, and I can take a nap later on."
"Yeah, yeah, you can!" Arthur perked up a little again, "I´m here now, I can take care of Martin. And Mum´s going to come over too!"
"What? Really?"
"Yes. She´s a bit worried, you see."
"I... see." If anyone would have told Douglas the same five years ago, he´d probably have laughed, but things had changed. Carolyn was more lenient towards Martin, it seemed, ever since she had found out about the way he lived. Or rather, the way he struggled, most of the time anyway.
"Want some coffee, Arthur?"
"No, thanks! I just had a ginormous breakfast! But can I go and see how Skip´s doing?"
"Sure," Douglas yawned again, "try not to wake him, though."
"I´ll be really quiet," Arthur promised, and sneaked out. Douglas looked at his retreating back and smiled.
Martin was still lying on his side when Arthur peeked into the room, barely visible from the door. Arthur tiptoed around the bed and paused; Skip looked awful, ashen-faced and haggard and very exhausted. The fever didn´t seem to be completely gone yet, the tell-tale red hues on his cheeks were still there.
He seemed to be sleeping soundly however, which had to be good, because Mum always said that sleep was the best medicine. He didn´t know why Martin hadn´t gotten much sleep during the night, but at least he was catching up on it now.
Douglas was making himself some scrambled eggs on toast when Arthur came back.
"I didn´t wake him," he said. "He looks worse than yesterday, though."
"Which is no surprise, really," Douglas murmured, sitting down, "considering what he´s been through." He told Arthur what had transpired during the night, leaving out some of the details.
Arthur sat with his chin in his hand, looking worried again: "So the shot didn´t work, then?"
Douglas shook his head: "I think it was a different kind of nausea." Cautiously, he explained what he meant, and Arthur finally nodded understandingly. "Poor Skip," he said, "one kind of nausea really is enough, if you ask me."
Carolyn stood in her kitchen, chopping up vegetables. Herc, who had been reading the newspaper, came in and looked over her shoulder: "What are you doing?"
Carolyn´s tone was clipped:"I´m making soup."
"Soup."
"Yes, soup! Broth, vegetables, tiny noodles in the shape of letters."
"Er- why are you making soup? We're going to Le Rouet later, if you remember."
"I know! It´s for Martin."
"Oh. Really? I see. Well, that´s- very nice of you." After a moment´s hesitation, he began to turn up his sleeves: "Need a hand?"
Carolyn turned round: "You want to help me cut the vegetables? Why?"
Herc sighed, a long-suffering expression on his face: "Because I´d like to. No hidden agenda."
"Fine." Carolyn nodded at the potatoes: "You can start peeling these."
"Aye, sir." Herc muttered under his breath, grinning as he received a shove against the shoulder.
Douglas had finished his breakfast and was sleepily listening to Arthur, who was excitedly telling him about the Christmas morning he´d had so far, and about the presents which had been exchanged.
"And Herc gave me a new hat- it´s much nicer than my old hat, because it looks like a proper one. I mean, I liked my old hat, but Mum always made fun of me because of it, and now she can´t because it´s from Herc. And Herc really liked the DVD Box set I gave him. It´s the complete first two seasons of 'Shaun the Sheep', you know? I wouldn´t even have known what to get him if Mum hadn´t tipped me off about it!"
Douglas, who vividly remembered Finn McCool the third, wisely didn´t comment on it. He got up instead: "Would you mind if I quickly went to have a shower?"
"No, not at all!" Arthur beamed at him: "Take your time, Douglas. If Martin needs anything, I´ll help him."
After Douglas had gone upstairs, Arthur sneaked back to Martin´s room. He had brought something for his friend which he now placed on top of the pillows. Then he stood silently for a moment.
After he had convinced himself that Martin did look as okay as possible in the circumstances, he slowly backed away again. Unfortunately, he wasn´t very familiar with the room yet, and therefore it came as a complete surprise when he collided with a chest of drawers.
The noise had Martin waking with a start. He was clearly disoriented at first, and pushed himself up on his arms: "What- Arthur?" he asked, his voice hoarse and very low.
"Yeah, it´s me, Skip, don´t you worry," Arthur hurriedly said, surreptitiously rubbing his back, "that was just me being clumsy, there are no burglars or anything."
Martin blinked: "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. I´ll probably have a bruise, but then I´ve had worse- just like that time when I fell off the donkey in the circus. Though coming to think of it- that wasn´t actually so bad."
"Where´s Douglas?" Martin asked feebly, unable to process Arthur´s story at that moment.
"Oh, he´s having a shower. I was just checking on you, I´m so sorry to wake you!"
"It´s all right," Martin muttered, easing himself back down because sitting up didn´t feel too good, and his arms were trembling even from this little exertion.
Arthur cocked his head: "I´m really sorry," he repeated, "is there anything I can do for you? Do you need anything?"
"No, thank you," Martin murmured, closing his eyes and coughing a few times. "Just... sleep."
Arthur nodded: "Okay," he whispered, "Mum always says sleep is the best medicine. Sleep well! Oh, and Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas," Martin murmured, already on the verge of dozing off again.
Arthur looked at him and for some reason was suddenly very glad that his mum was going to come over.
"You really shouldn´t have," Douglas said by way of thanking Arthur for his Christmas present, eyeing the pair of socks the younger man had gotten him: they were striped in two different shades of blue and had cheery little aeroplanes on them, which even had smiling faces.
"Oh, but they are brilliant," Arthur said, "I think that one looks a bit like Gerti!"
"If she had a face, maybe," Douglas agreed. He wasn´t in the mood to argue, and anyway, it was the thought which counted, a notion which applied to Arthur rather often.
They were sitting in the living room again, since Arthur had wanted to see the tree in the daylight and also put Douglas´ and Martin´s presents under it.
"Would you like me to put yours under the tree as well?" Douglas asked.
Arthur beamed: "Oh yes, that would be brilliant!"
"Would it now, then I´ll do it. Just wait a moment while I go and get it."
Arthur was humming carols under his breath when Douglas returned a moment later, and his eyes widened when he saw the rather large package.
"Can I open it now?" he asked.
"Of course, right after I´ve put it under the tree," Douglas said. "There. Enjoy."
Arthur practically fell onto his knees and tore the paper off the present within seconds: "Wow! Douglas! A Lego Space Shuttle! How did you know!"
Douglas grinned:"I saw you ogling it at the airport in Tokyo," he replied, "and there was a friend who owed me a favour."
"Douglas, it´s brilliant! Thank you so much!"
The doorbell rang while Arthur was still admiring the pictures on the box. Douglas opened the front door to find himself face to face with a large pot. "Merry Christmas," it said, with Carolyn´s voice.
"Merry Christmas," Douglas held the door open wide, "do come in. I believe your friends, Sergeant Spoon and Mrs Ladle, are already in the kitchen."
"Har har," Carolyn said, "I do forget that my pilots do not even stop being funny at Christmas." She turned round to Douglas: "How´s my other pilot doing, by the way?"
"He had a bit of a rough night," Douglas said, "he´s sleeping now. Should I take that?" He pointed at the pot.
Carolyn shook her head: "No, thank you. It´s still warm, which is a blessing considering how cold it is today. It took forever to get the car sufficiently heated up."
"Didn´t Herc want to come?" Douglas asked as they went to the kitchen.
"No, for some reason, he didn´t fancy a tête-a-tête with my First Officer."
"Too bad. I´m sure my tête would have won."
Carolyn ignored him:"What do you mean, rough night?" she asked, setting the pot down on the worktop.
"He spent a good deal of it in the bathroom, throwing up for a few hours," Douglas said, "followed by severe coughing well into the early morning. The fever´s not gone completely either. He´s rather worse for wear, really."
"Oh dear." Carolyn didn´t try to hide her concern. "Have you made him drink enough, Douglas?"
"Yes, I did. At least I tried. He couldn´t keep anything down at first."
"Did you apply VapoRub or poultices for the cough?"
"Er- I think Martin will be sufficiently appalled by all of this as it is, he most certainly wouldn´t appreciate it if I wrapped his chest in warm towels with questionable contents. And I´ve never heard of a cough poultice anyway."
"No, I expect not. Well, I´ll see about that."
"Carolyn- you´re not seriously going to suggest to Martin that he try poultices?"
"Why not?"
"The poor boy´s been through enough already."
"And he´ll be glad if the cough improves."
"He-" Douglas broke off. He knew Carolyn well enough by now to realize that she was pulling his leg.
"Shame on you, Carolyn Knapp-Shappey," he said, "joking at the expense of poor Martin."
But he grinned.
"Seriously, Douglas," Carolyn then said, "do you have anything to relieve the sore throat?"
"Well, I´ve got Strepsils, and chamomile tea," he said.
"Good, make some then, and put it in a thermos."
"Aye, Sir," Douglas muttered, putting the kettle on.
"Where is Martin?" Carolyn asked.
"I´ll show you." He led the way to the guestroom.
Carolyn was very quiet as she beheld Martin, who hadn´t moved much since Arthur had woken him, and looked dead to the world.
"We have to wake him up," she whispered eventually, "he needs to eat and drink something, so that he can take the medicine which the doctor´s prescribed him."
"You think so?" Douglas asked, doubtfully. "Shouldn´t we let him sleep?"
"I know I keep saying that sleep´s the best medicine. And he can sleep as long he wants afterwards," Carolyn argued, "but he needs to refuel a little. Look at him, he´s white as a sheet. He needs to get rid of the fever, Douglas, and take the antibiotics."
That was true, Douglas conceded. "But what if still can´t keep anything down? I don´t want to put him through another bout of... you know."
Carolyn chewed on her lip, lifting her chin determinedly: "If that should happen, we´ll call that doctor friend of yours. And you know what? I don´t give a damn whether it´s Christmas or not."
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To Be Continued
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Additional disclaimer and note: I neither own "Strepsils","VapoRub" nor Lego. There are two versions of the Lego Space Shuttle, and the one I had in mind for Arthur is the more adult version, called "Lego 10213 Shuttle Adventure" in case you want to google it (links don´t work here, sorry).