(Untitled)

[patrick_koster]

When he woke up in the middle of the night the temperature seemed to have dropped significantly and a violent shiver ran through him as he slowly sat up, his brow furrowing as he noticed the windows were wide open: that didn't seem quite right. It certainly didn't feel right. With some trouble he climbed out off bed, closing all the windows, still

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[stormybrendan]

He hurriedly shoved the untouched glass back on the nightstand and stood, helping Patrick to sit up, swinging his legs off the bed. "Put y' arms around m' neck," he told him, ready to lift him up.

[patrick_koster]

"Fucking up your night," Patrick murmured vaguely as he opened his eyes again and stared up at Brendan, his face pale, the flush deepening. "And for probably needing that bowl in a minute."

[stormybrendan]

"Yeah, I had such plans for it too," he replied drily, picking up the bowl and moving it to the floor next to the bed. "Though if you want my attention there are other ways of getting it y' know."

[patrick_koster]

"What plans?" Patrick blinked, feeling both confused and even more guilty now that he realized he was actually messing up Brendan's night.

[stormybrendan]

Brendan frowned a moment, looking at Patrick and wondering if he was joking, or a little deirious again. "Uh, you know, what I usually do at 3.30 in the morning... carry out indepth studies of the inside of m' eyelids."

[patrick_koster]

He wanted to apologize for ruining those plans, but just when he opened his mouth his stomach acted up again and he ended up coughing instead. The cough soon turning into gagging and he would've cursed but was a little occupied attempting to stop himself from throwing up again.

[stormybrendan]

Brendan was on his knees next to the bed with the bowl in his hand, the other pulling back the blankets a little and reaching around to help Patrick up.

[patrick_koster]

Patrick shuddered then shivered, Brendan holding him up just keeping him from doubling over when he gagged once again, dry heaves wracking his body.

[stormybrendan]

"Christ," Brendan muttered under his breath as Patrick's body tensed again. His own stomach was tightening, the sound of Patrick's laboured breathing making his chest ache too. After a sharp inhale, as if encouraging Patrick's own lungs to do the same, he gently squeezed the man's shoulders, leaning his forehead against Patrick's ear for a moment as if hoping beyond hope he could somehow just will the man better again. He lifted his head as he felt Patrick's body relax from the bout of retching, easing him back down under the blankets again.

"Think I might just see if I c'n ring a doc, find out what they reckon," he said quietly, smoothing a hand along the ridge in the blankets where Patrick's arm was. He ran through the symptoms Patrick had told him about in his head. "Anythin' else I should know, to tell 'em what's going on with you?" he asked.

[patrick_koster]

His muscles quivered with exhaustion, his breathing becoming more rapid and shallow and to keep his eyes open was somewhat of a struggle. When he met Brendan's eyes, Patrick's brow was furrowed with concentration and after a brief moment he managed a small shake of the head. "I'm not sure," he whispered without even thinking about objecting to Brendan calling the doctor. "I don't think so - "

[stormybrendan]

"Right, you just stay here," Brendan said, jaw set. "I'm just getting the phone." He walked quickly out to the kitchen, grabbing the cordless phone off it's charger and dragging the cupboard open where the phone books were stored. Finally finding it he pulled it out and flipped the pages open, looking up a 24 hr medical centre, flipping the pages until he finally finds the page. His finger runs down the page, eyes scanning quickly for something, anything that will tell him what to do. Instead he just sees a number, in large bold print, and his thumb is soon punching the numbers. He presses the 'dial' button and slams the books shut when the phone starts to ring.

Without putting the book back Brendan starts walking back into the bedroom, the phone still ringing on the other end. "C'mon, pick up!" he muttered as he re-entered the bedroom.

[patrick_koster]

He tried not to, blinking repeatedly to keep his eyes from falling closed, but even before Brendan had left the room, Patrick already fell asleep, his rasping breath slow, but regular.

[stormybrendan]

When he saw Patrick was asleep again Brendan walked into the bathroom, easing the door half closed and waited for the phone to answer. His eyes caught a glimpse of a pale, drawn face in the mirror, hair dishevelled from fingers running through it, just as they were now. He turned his back on the reflection and leaned against the vanity unit, huffing impatiently but straightening when the phone was suddenly answered. The voice on the other end asked him if it was an emergency and he quickly related the situation

[patrick_koster]

The relative quietness of Patrick's sleep interrupted every now and then by a soft groan when the slightest of movements sent flares of pain shooting down his back, his fingers clutching the sheets and his jaw tightening as his sleep continued to become more and more restless, the pain continuing to increase in both frequency and intensity.

[stormybrendan]

Brendan came back out of the bathroom as another groan sounded from the uneasy huddled bundle in the bed. He wondered whether to try and give Patrick some more asprin, or whether they had been the cause of the vomiting before. As he stood there trying to decide he looked down at the nightstand and picked up the thermometer strip, figuring it would be a good idea to see what Patrick's temp was doing. He placed it against the skin, feeling the heat coming off the man.

[patrick_koster]

In his sleep Patrick tried to move away from the touch; the soft noises that escaped his lips sounding almost distressed as his body curled in on itself even more.