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sortofanobsession · 3 months

Note

could you maybe write a fic where Jamie gets sick at an away game— whether it be anxiety, food poisoning, flu, etc. Maybe he sicks up in the middle of the night and Dani or Sam (I imagine they room together and are best friends) go get Roy and he’s very very sweet in his own Roy way to Jamie and then the next day on the bus Jamie still doesn’t feel good so he snuggles into Roy in the back of the bus?

I literally love your work so much and would absolutely die if you wrote this (plus my birthday is coming up (Jan 25th) so this would be so epic to read then))

Happy Early Birthday, Anon!

Here is worried Roy Kent, sick and confused Jamie, amused Keeley, #1 nurse Phoebe, and well, everyone else. Hope you like it.

A/N: I'm not a medical expert. I have asthma so I know a few things about raspatory issues. But this might not be the most accurate. And it's unbeta read, as usual.

Ted Lasso Masterlist

Ao3

Pairing: RoyJamie

word count: 4k+

Content warning: Illness, pneumonia, fever, coughing, vomiting (from coughing), panic, angst, sleep depravation, fear, swearing/cursing/cussing.

Fever in the Night

Roy Kent growls at the knock that would have woken him up if he had been asleep. He’d been reading and didn’t appreciate being interrupted.

“Better be fucking dying,” He grumbles as he opens the door. “What?” he snaps at Sam Obisanya.

“Sorry, Coach,” Sam nervously says. “But it’s Jamie.”

And that has Roy moving before his tired brain catches up. He almost forgets to grab his room key and phone, but he isn't a fucking idiot, so he grabs them. Sam relaxes a tiny bit that Roy didn't argue or even swear as much as Sam had expected for it being 1 a.m. Roy feels uneasy when he looks up to see Dani Rojas and Jeff Goodman in the hall, both in the open door of the room Sam and Jamie shared. The four players have adjoining rooms.

“What about Jamie?” Roy finally asks as he follows Sam.

“He's very sick,” a worried Dani Rojas says. Jeff nods.

“Okay,” Roy says. He was tempted to ask them why the fuck they woke him and not the team’s doctor, but it was about Jamie Tartt. He'd be pissed if they didn't. He cares about Jamie. And he shoves that thought aside because he really shouldn't think like that. And Roy forgets it completely when he gets one look at Jamie. Jamie’s pale. His stupid fucking hair is sweat drenched and sticking to his face.

“You two, out,” he says to Dani and Jeff by the door.

“But-” Dani starts, but Roy glares. Jeff was smart enough to be back in his own room already.

“You have a fucking match, with or without Tartt, so fucking sleep. He'll be fucking fine.”

The coach weighs his options before handing Sam his own room key. “You fucking too.”

“But coach-”

“Not going to fucking repeat it,” he snaps.

“What about you?”

“Don't fucking argue.”

“Sorry, coach,” Sam says, but he hasn't moved. The room key and his phone gripped right in his hands.

“I’ll call the physio team, now fucking go.”

Sam nods and silently leaves. Roy sighs once the doors are closed. As tired as he is, his fucking heart is pounding. Something is wrong with Jamie Tartt. And that twists something inside the gaffer. And despite the protest in his knee, he is kneeling down beside Jamie to get a good look at him. He should call the physio team. He needs the team’s doctor. Roy might know more than your average bloke when it comes to health, thanks to his sister, but he's no bloody expert. But he needs a bit more information first. He reaches up and carefully moves the hair out of Jamie's face.

“Fucking hell,” he says when just his fingertips can feel the heat of a fever. Just to be sure, he places his palm on Jamie's forehead. And he squashes down whatever feeling is stirred up by how the sick striker shivers at the contact but still leans into it.

“Fucking burning up,” Roy mutters to himself.

He winces at the pain in his knee as he stands up. He tucks Jamie's blankets tighter around him. The gaffer is scrolling through his contacts to find the one he needs. He flips the light on in the ensuite and talks to the team's doctor as he grabs a flannel and wets it. As he hangs up the phone, he sets the damp cloth on Jamie's forehead. That's when the player’s eyes snap open. Confusion, followed by panic, flashed across the striker’s face. Because in Jamie's mind, if Roy Kent is there, then Jamie is running late for something, and Roy is probably pissed at him. Jamie hates when Roy is pissed at him. Jamie doesn't like disappointing Roy.

“Easy, Tartt,” Roy says. “Fucking stay put.” Roy puts the fallen flannel back in place. “Try and relax.”

And as anxious as Jamie is, a command from Roy Kent is one that Jamie will follow.

“Roy?” Jamie manages to ask. And the coach hates how tired, weak, and utterly confused Jamie seems.

Before Roy can say anything else, a knock at the door makes Jamie flinch. Without thinking, Roy smoothes the younger man’s hair back in an attempt to calm him as he gets up. Roy’s always been better at physical gestures than words. And if that's what was needed to keep Tartt from panicking or hurting himself, well, then that was a no fucking brainer. He was going to fucking do it.

He lets the doctor into the room and silently hovers as the doctor deals with the striker.

“Any other player showing symptoms?” the doctor asks the gaffer.

“Fuck if I know, Obisanya, Rojas, and Goodman just seemed fucking worried. Are we going to have a fucking team tomorrow?”

“Guess we will see in the morning,” the doctor says. Roy gets a rundown on what needs to be done for Jamie. The coach leans his head against the cool wood of the door when he closes it behind the doctor.

“Where's Sam?” Jamie asks, finally realizing that his roommate’s gone. And that concerns Roy a bit. Jamie is one of his most observant players. On and off the pitch, he tends to keep track of who is around him and where his mates are. He likes knowing where the people he cares about are. He was just noticing Sam’s absence now, which wasn’t a good sign.

“Sent him off to get some fucking sleep,” Roy says. Several things had been dropped off at the room by either the physio team or hotel staff. Roy had been focused on the doctor and Jamie when it had happened. The gaffer hands the player a bottle of water. Jamie takes it without argument.

“Where?” Jamie glanced at Sam's empty bed. Roy rolls his eyes.

“My room,” Roy answers, and that seems to surprise Jamie. Before the player can comment on the decision, Roy adds, “Not like I'm fucking using it.” And Roy regrets saying it at the way Jamie gets a sad look on his face. “It's fucking fine, Tartt. My fucking choice.”

“But-”

“But someone needs to make sure you fucking rest.”

And Jamie hates that because he doesn't want to be a burden to anyone.

“You don't need to-”

“Already fucking decided,” Roy states. “Just try and fucking sleep.”

Roy is woken up by violent coughing, and he is out of bed without thinking. Helping raise Phoebe had him trained to be a light sleeper at times like these. Roy follows the sound to the loo. He knocks on the closed door. He didn't know if Jamie had coughed so hard he made himself vomit or vice versa. But from what he could hear, it was painfully obvious one of the two had occurred. The gaffer is glad to find the door unlocked and lets himself in. Jamie tries to argue and kick him out, but he is tired and shaking and can barely move. And that has something in Roy breaking.

“Not fucking going anywhere, Tartt,” Roy says. As he grabs some water and sits beside Jamie. Jamie accepts the glass if only to rinse his mouth out. Roy can hear the way Jamie's lungs struggle, and that has Roy struggling not to panic. But he manages. He gets Jamie calmed down, cleaned up, and back in bed. Roy ends up texting his sister, who calls him. She asks him if Jamie has been sick recently, but then he remembers what Jamie had told him during training. He'd nearly choked to death at Ola’s over a joke one of the other idiots had told him. And fuck, Jamie couldn't catch a break. His sister tells him it sounds like aspiration pneumonia to her. He should have the doctor double-check, but hopefully, Jamie being a fit footballer will mean he can fight it off without too much trouble. He would need to keep a close eye on him. Hopefully, he wouldn't need to be admitted to hospital. And that had Roy’s blood running cold. A cold and a fucking joke. He sent a message to the physio team and went back to Jamie.

The only good thing was that pneumonia wasn't inherently contagious. The cold Jamie had before it might be, but it was unlikely to take Sam, Dani, or Jeff out of the game. Jamie wouldn't be leaving the hotel the next morning. Roy really dreaded the idea, but he was already hitting the number on his phone. Keeley would have a lot to say about this at some point. She’d probably see right through him and know he cares more than he should for just being Jamie’s coach. But he needed help, and he knew Jamie trusted Keeley as much as Roy did.

“Better be good, Roy,” Keeley says. She was clearly annoyed and not a fan of being woken at nearly 4 in the morning.

“Fucking opposite, it's very fucking bad,” he says, and he sounds it. And she knows if Roy is that upset, it means one of three people was in a bad state. It must be Roy's sister, his niece, or Jamie Tartt. Roy and Jamie might both be her exes, but she knew them well enough to know that they were both idiots in love, just neither of them would admit it. And since it's an away match, it probably meant Jamie was the one having issues.

“What's wrong? What happened?” She says, all annoyance gone and completely awake. “Is Jamie all right?”

Roy tells her what has happened since Sam knocked on his door. She tells him to keep doing what he's doing. She’ll stay with Jamie during the match.

“Just let me text Rebecca, and I’ll be there,” Keeley tells him. Roy Kent doesn't argue.

Roy is an anxious fucking mess throughout the whole match. He does his job. The team does theirs, but everyone feels like there is a gaping hole in the lineup. Even if they physically have a full team, thanks to Roberts. But Isaac had told them to win it for Jamie, and the fucking lads did. That would at least make Jamie feel better about having missed it. Colin Hughes and Dani Rojas had Sky Sports doing replays of goals. And post-game interviews had been more about Tartt than one would think for a game he wasn't in. Roy was just glad he’d had Jamie give Georgie a heads-up that he was sick before he left for the match. The striker listened to his mum as an amused Keeley kicked Roy out of the room.

The team didn't even ask Roy if he was going out to celebrate the win. The gaffer hadn't even hung back for the bus. He didn't even change his clothes. He let Nathan Shelley to handle the press. He caught a ride back to the hotel, annoyed by the chatty driver, but he was cognizant enough to not verbally eviscerate the guy. He was just doing his job. Tipped the guy well. Not his fault Roy was a shit company.

“You weren't joking,” Keeley grinned when she opened the door for Roy. Her voice was quiet.

“Said I'd be back after the match,” he stated as he tossed his jacket over a chair in the room. His tone matches hers. “How is he?”

“Out cold. Whatever the new doctor gave him must be working.”

Roy hummed. The hotel’s concierge had arranged for a local doctor to treat Jamie so the physio team could focus on the match. And Roy didn't even mind the outrageous fee that was going to cost them. He'd throw all the money he had at it, even though he knew Rebecca Welton would cover it in a heartbeat. She cared deeply for her team these days. And Roy could respect that. He did respect that about his boss. He glanced at the muted TV as Sky Sports blathered on about the game. Roy was glad it was silent. He could ignore the bullshit commentary on his coaching. They won. That's all that fucking mattered.

“You need to leave?” Roy asked at the way Keeley's phone kept going off.

“Maybe to take a few calls. Seems the internet is not satisfied with the team's explanation of Jamie's absence.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Roy says as he moves to check on Jamie himself.

“You would say that,” Keeley grins. “But it's my job to answer it. I'm his publicist, after all.”

“Fair,” Roy states, but he doesn't look at her. His eyes are locked on Jamie. He doesn't see the knowing look on Keeley's face.

“Team should be here soon,” she tells him as she grabs her bag. “Text me if you need me.”

Roy grunts and nods. He finally looks up at her.

“Doctor said he’ll be back up in a few days,” she assures him. “Bus ride might suck, but we'll manage.”

After she leaves, Roy turns off the TV. He was glad he and Sam had switched rooms. He silently changes into more comfortable clothes and pulls a chair up next to the bed. He picks up the book he had been reading. He didn't get very far in his book. He was too distracted by the wheezing sound coming from Jamie. He knew the team was back as the noise level in the hall increased. He was about to go out and tell them all to shut the fuck up when someone beat him to it. There was a quiet knock on the door.

He opens it to find Nathan Shelley.

“How is he?” the assistant coach asks.

“Sleeping, but it's not fucking great,” he tells him.

“Think he’ll be able to travel?” Nate asks.

“Can't fucking leave him here,” Roy says.

“That's true, but it won't make him worse, will it?”

“Not much to fucking do about it.”

Roy had bought Keeley a ticket back so she could meet them when they got back. She complained, but he was ordering her around, but she didn't really mean it. They were both worried about Jamie. And if she could help ease his pain after a long trip, then she would.

Roy had triple-checked that he had everything packed up for both himself and Jamie. Dani and Jeff had taken their stuff down so Roy could focus on getting Jamie up and moving. No one says anything, but they watch curiously as Roy leads a pale Jamie to the far back of the bus. The players exchanged worried looks. It was going to be a long, tense ride back to Richmond.

The bus was quiet, as it usually is during these late-night trips, but this was an uneasy silence. The entire bus would go painfully tense every time Jamie coughed.

They were on the road for half an hour when Roy noticed Jamie was shaking. Roy couldn't imagine how shitty the striker must feel. Fever-induced chill on a fucking crowded bus.

Jamie's eyes snap to his when Roy feels the ill man’s forehead for what feels like the millionth time.

“You okay?” Roy asks quietly.

“Cold,” Jamie says. And Roy had already figured that out by the way Jamie not only avoided the cold glass of the window but also the way Jamie sort of chased the warmth of Roy's hand as he pulled away. How Jamie could be burning up but shivering cold had Roy thinking this was a terrible idea. He should have made better arrangements for Jamie. He should have extended their stay at the hotel, no matter the price, and sent the team back without them. Sure, there would be a lot of questions he didn't even want to answer to himself, let alone out loud, but he regrets not doing it. For Jamie's health and safety. Jamie was already wrapped in his usual blanket, a new one Keeley had given him, and Jamie's jacket. But it didn't seem to be enough.

Roy hummed.

Jamie's tired eyes watched as Roy dug through the bag he had with him. First, he makes Jamie take more meds. Jamie is vaguely aware of the quiet buzzing alarm on Roy’s phone. As he takes the meds, he sees Roy pull out a jumper from his bag. Roy kept it with him on trips like these in case a hotel or bus had a busted heater, and he needed extra layers. Jamie considers arguing, but he is just too exhausted to actually do it when Roy helps him out of his jacket and into the jumper. Instead of Jamie’s jacket, Roy's much thicker leather jacket, still warm from Roy wearing it, is wrapped around the striker. Jamie almost cries because it's warm and it smells like Roy, and it's overwhelmingly comforting to his fever-muddled mind. Roy must notice the glassy look in Jamie's already bloodshot eyes because without hesitation or protest, even at the odd looks from a few people around them, Roy shifts them both. Roy moves so he can lean against the window with Jamie's back to his chest. One foot on the floor to brace them both. And Jamie manages to get a bit more air than he had bundled up in the window seat. Roy was fucking warm, and Jamie just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep in his lap, but his lungs hurt, and he could barely breathe as is. Thankfully, the bench at the back of the bus they were on was a bit longer than the normal seats, and Roy could stretch his knee out. They still had nearly 5 hours on the bus. Jamie’s eyelids felt heavy when Roy pulled the blankets back around him. The violent chills finally eased a bit. Jamie didn't know if it was from the meds or how blissfully warm Roy fucking Kent was, but he felt just a tiny bit more human.

“Quit fighting it and fucking sleep, Tartt,” Roy said. Jamie chuckles, but it turns into a wheezing cough that earns concerned luck from the teammates who are sitting nearby. The striker doesn't see the way Roy silently waves them off, too distracted by the way Roy’s arm holds him tight, a hand on his chest to keep him from falling to the floor. Roy's other hand starts rubbing Jamie's back until he can pull an exhausted Jamie back against his chest.

“Just try and breathe, Jamie,” Roy's voice is in his ear, sending a shiver down Jamie’s spine. “Let the medicine work. Nothing else matters. Just fucking breathe.”

Jamie whines slightly because all he wants to do is tuck his face in Roy's next and probably cry.

Roy Kent’s heart fucking shattered at the weak noise that Jamie makes, and he can't take it. He wraps his arms as tight around Jamie as he dares with how much the striker is already struggling to breathe. And he plants a kiss on Jamie's temple.

“It's okay, Jamie,” the older man assures. “I've got you.” And that seems to do the trick because Jamie’s hands wrap around Roy's wrist. So the coach adds, “I'm not going anywhere.” And Roy starts quietly telling Jamie about his first time in Newcastle as a kid when he’d been training in Sunderland. His hushed words continue until Jamie is fast asleep against him.

About halfway through the trip, Coach Beard comes to check on them. He isn't surprised that Jamie is passed out. Nor is he shocked to find Roy Kent wide awake. The gaffer might be exhausted, and on night two, he has no sleep, but he is wide awake. Beard hands him a water bottle. One Roy accepts because he was sort of trapped where he is.

“You good?” Beard asks. Roy nods because as painfully asleep his leg might be, and as achy his bad knee is, he'd endure it if it meant Jamie slept. Jamie had spent much of the first hour of the trip trying to get comfortable. The fact he had slept long enough for Roy to get sore was good.

“Fucking fine,” Roy grumbles.

“You sure?” Nate asks when he appears over Beard’s shoulder. “We could help you-”

He is cut off by a low growl from Roy. “You fucking wake him, and you’ll be picking your teeth up out the aisle.”

“Right, yeah, got it,” Nate says before disappearing, presumably back to his seat. Beard just nods and hands him the book Roy had set aside.

Roy can feel the rattle in Jamie's lungs worsening as the meds wear off, and Jamie starts to wake up. Thankfully, they were only about 45 minutes out from the dog track now.

Roy gently shushes him as a bump in the road jostles everyone on board, earning a pained whine from the ill man. “It's okay, Jamie,” Roy tells him. “Nearly there, then we can go home and get you in bed.”

And it's like a knife in Roy's heart that Jamie is too tired and sick to make a snippy comeback or stupid innuendo. Like all the humor and joy was being drained from the player. And Roy hated it. As much as he acted annoyed or put out by Jamie, he fucking adored him. Wouldn't change the man Jamie had grown into for the fucking world.

On the contrary, he'd fucking fight anyone that doubted Jamie. Because Roy Kent was fucking gone on Jamie Tartt. The arrogant prick stole his heart at some point, and Roy hadn't even fucking noticed. His sister and Keeley were never going to let him live this down. And he'd endure it as long as Jamie was okay.

Jamie worried as he watched how Roy had to grip the seats as they exited the bus. Roy is slower than usual. Jamie might be sick, but he knew Roy. He could identify Roy while blindfolded by footsteps alone. The slight limp and the way Roy leans heavily on the railing with each step down makes Jamie’s brows furrow.

“Fucking stop it,” Roy says when his eyes meet Jamie's.

“Your knee-”

“Is fucking fantastic. You going to just fucking stand there or what?”

Keeley's laugh has Jamie looking behind him.

“You two are a sight,” she grins.

“Did you-”

“Course I did, Roy-o,” she smiles. “Let's get you home, babe,” she says to Jamie, and he is too tired and confused to argue. He nearly panics when he notices Will helping Roy along, but Keeley's warm hand pats Jamie’s chest. “He's okay, just a long ride,” Keeley tells him. “Telling either of you not to worry is a waste, but I can tell you, he doesn't regret it. Now, in you go.” She helps him into Roy’s G-Wagon with little argument. He is surprised when Roy gets in the back beside him, and Keeley gets behind the wheel. Roy doesn't often let others drive his car. But then again, this is Keeley.

“Jamie?” The striker's eyes snap up and he meets Keeley’s in the rearview mirror before Keeley looks away to meet Roy’s.

“Hmm?”

“She asked if you were fucking hungry,” Roy tells him, and the worried look on Roy's face has a familiar feeling in Jamie's gut returning.

“I'm knackered more than anything,” Jamie says.

“I get that,” Keeley says. “Be home soon.”

Jamie must fall asleep because the next thing he knows, he's waking up in his own bed, unsure how he got there. He tries to put the pieces together, but he comes up short.

“Good, you're awake.”

“Phoebe?” Jamie asks because Roy Kent’s niece is in the doorway to his bedroom.

“Hang on, I have to tell my mum.”

“Your mum?” Jamie mutters, but she is gone. So Phoebe and her mum were there. Jamie’s tired brain tries to remember what happened to cause this to happen.

“Well, your colour's better,” Roy's sister says as she walks in.

“You're in my house?”

She nearly laughs at his confused look. Phoebe giggles.

“Well, yeah,” Phoebe says like it's the most obvious fact in the universe. “Uncle Roy let us in.”

“Uncle Roy,” Jamie mutters.

“My brother begrudgingly went to training,” the doctor tells him. She uses a stethoscope to check his breathing. Jamie coughs as she does. “Rough,” she tells him. “But better than it was.”

“Uncle Roy said it was something like popcorn popping while rattling a jar of change, and when you pinch a balloon as it deflated.”

Jamie’s laughs turn into a wheezing coughing fit at the odd description. He startles slightly as a funny mask meets his face, but he looks over at the doctor as she turns on a machine.

“Yeah, she asked him, and that's how he explained it,” the amused mother said as she looked at her daughter. “Nebulizer,” she taps the machine. “Help get those lungs to open up faster. Make it easier to breathe.” She goes on to tell him how it works.

“So,” Jamie says despite the mask muffling his speech. “You…have…Babysitting…duty?”

He doesn't miss the worried look on Phoebe's face as he has to break between each word, but her mum just squeezes her knee, where she sits on the side of Jamie's bed. Phoebe's hands were too busy holding Jamie's hand. And that makes Jamie smile behind the mask. He was always happy to see Phoebe. Sure, this was a weird visit, but he was glad she was there. Being sick was awful. But it was easier when you had people that cared around you.

“My brother insisted Phoe was the best nurse for the job.” And the smile the girl gave them did wonders to heal Jamie's heart. She was a ball of sunshine. Jamie was still trying to figure out how they got there when he remembered that Keeley had driven Jamie and Roy to Jamie's flat. Roy must have stayed.

“His knee?” Jamie asks, sure that Roy's sister would know.

“Fine, after he iced it,” she tells him. “Or as fine as it ever is.” She shrugs. “Although if he doesn't start wearing the brace again on bad days, I'm going to kick him in it.”

“That's not very nice, mum,” Phoebe says.

“Neither is your uncle when his knee hurts, so seems fair,” her mum grins. Jamie chuckles. “Medication must be working. We got a laugh that didn't turn into a cough.”

“Yay!” Phoebe cheered, and Jamie smiled. The pair stayed, and Phoebe told him all about the match he had missed. As much as it hurt him to know he had let his team down, the colourful commentary from an 8-year-old made it easier to stomach.

Roy had let himself in with Jamie’s keys and followed his niece’s laugh to find them all in Jamie's room. His sister turned off the nebulizer. And the icy grip around the gaffer's heart eases slightly at the smile on Jamie's face as the mask was set aside.

“Uncle Roy's here!” Phoebe announced.

“How's the best medical team doing?” Roy asks.

“Great!” Phoebe grins.

“And the patient?” Roy adds. And Jamie is stunned at the strange dichotomy on the gaffer's face. He looks exhausted. He has bags under his eyes. At the same time, there is a spark in his eyes. A smile on his face as he leans against the door frame. And Jamie feels butterflies when Roy looks at him. It's not the first time he's felt it. He's always craved Roy's attention. Even when they were both playing for Richmond, Jamie would go out of his way to antagonize his captain. Getting to see Roy content with his family was something Jamie always considered special.

“Much better,” Phoebe answers. “He managed to laugh without coughing.”

“Oh really?” Roy asks with amusement.

“He had the nebulizer on at the time, but it means we're on the right track,” Roy's sister tells him. “That and his fever finally broke.”

Jamie hadn't even realized that he didn't feel feverish anymore.

“That's great,” Roy says. The gaffer feels himself relaxed. Jamie was getting better.

Roy watches as his sister gets up from the chair beside Jamie's bed. She reaches a hand out to Phoebe. “Come on, Phoe, soup-making time,” she says. Phoebe gives both Jamie and Roy a hug as she leaves. Roy can't help but grin at the dopey smile on Jamie's face.

“Wait, soup making? Do I even have the stuff for that?” Jamie asks, and Roy gets a bit uneasy again.

“You do now,” Roy says as he moves to take the seat his sister had been in.

“Since when?”

And Roy gives him an odd look.

“Since yesterday.”

“Did Keeley get them before we got back?”

“No,” Roy answers. “Jamie, you've been in and out of it for a couple of days since we got back.”

“What?” And he remembers that Roy's sister had said Roy was at training. They usually had the day off after long travel away matches like that.

“A couple days?”

“You okay?” Roy asks as Jamie coughs.

Jamie winces. He felt terrible thinking about how many nights of sleep he had ruined for Roy.

“You should go home,” Jamie says when he can finally speak again.

“Already here,” Roy states.

“I know, but…” Jamie starts. “You need sleep.”

“And you need to recover, so here we fucking are,” Roy tells him.

“I know, but-”

“I can fucking assure you that I will not sleep better in my own fucking bed. Probably worse because no one is here to look after your dumb arse.”

“But my fever broke, and I'm feeling-”

“You just had a coughing fit,” Roy says with a glare.

“But I didn't throw up or pass out, so I’m-”

“Fucking hell,” Roy says, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Fuck it.” A stunned Jamie watches as Roy climbs into bed beside him. “Now will you shut the fuck up and sleep.”

Jamie woke up feeling warmer than he had in a long time. He felt better too. His lungs still felt like crappy, but he didn't care as much.

#tw: illness #tw: pneumonia #tw: fever #tw: coughing #tw: vomiting #tw: panic #tw: fear #tw: sleep depravation #tw: swearing #tw: cussing #tw: cursing #royjamie #jamie x roy #roy x jamie #roy kent #jamie tartt #prompt fill #ted lasso fic #keeley jones

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anon911andbuddie · 1 year

Note

Hi I was wondering if you where still taking prompts if so I had an idea for a Eddie and Buck one where it’s after the lawsuit and Bucky is back working but everyone is avoiding him and when they get a call they leave him behind to clean. All the stress gets to him and one day while everyone is out on a call Bucky had another embolism. He calls 9-1-1 and another house saves him and the 118 comes back to blood on the floor and two fire fighters waiting to tell them what happened.

This one is long overdue. It has been started in my drafts for a long time. And I finally got to finish it. Hope you guys enjoy it.

-Scarlet 📕

Content warnings: Blood, coughing, struggling to breathe, panic, fear, passing out, intubation, pulmonary embolism, ambulances, hospitals, pain, guilt, anger.

Away Team

Buck looked around the empty station and felt the pain in his chest get worse. The call had the full crew out. As the pain persisted Buck realized it wasn't the usual ache that came with working these days. No, this was a different but familiar pain. It hurt, and he felt a cough in his throat, even deep in his chest. He reached up to where his radio should be and remembered he didn't have his radio on him. Why would he? It was just another way for them to yell at him. So he grabbed his phone, and as stupid as it made him feel, he dialed 911. Coughing as he did. He did his best to explain between choking coughs and gasping breaths. He somehow managed to get his location out as he dropped to his knees in the vacant truck bay. He looked down and frowned. He'd just cleaned that floor, and now it had blood on it. Bobby was going to be so pissed. Buck could hear the dispatcher's voice through his speaker, but he was no longer able to understand her. He blacked out.

His consciousness returned with a sudden jolt. The coughing made his chest burn, and something was in his throat. It all hurt. A firm hand stopped him from pulling at the tube in his throat.

"Easy, Buckley," an unfamiliar voice told him. "You're having a hard enough time already. No need to make it worse." How did they know his name? Where was he? Buck looked around and realized he was in an ambulance. He looked up to see a paramedic he didn't really know. The confusion must have been clear on his face because the paramedic sighed but smiled.

"You called 911, do you remember?" He thought about it, and he remembered what had happened. He nodded as much as he could.

"Okay, that's good," the paramedic smiled. "I'm Mel. I work with the 122."

Buck nodded again in acknowledgment.

"I have to ask, Buckley," Mel said. "Dispatch said you told her it was an embolism. You have one before?"

Buck nodded.

"You on blood thinners?"

He nodded again.

"You take your meds today?"

Buck tried to remember if he did. He half shrugged, an action that didn't help his sore and exhausted body.

"Okay," Mel nodded as she began to check his vitals again. "That is honestly more than I figured I'd get with the tube in. Just relax now, Buckley. We'll be at the hospital soon."

"You seeing this, Bobby?" Chim asked as they neared the station and saw a fire engine that didn't belong to their house in front of the bay's open doors.

"Yeah," Bobby said as he eyes the truck as they got closer.

"What the hell is the 122 doing here?" Eddie asked as they pulled in beside the engine.

"Let's find out," Bobby said as he got out and approached the pair of firefighters that were blocking them from pulling into the station.

"Captain Nash?" One of the men asked.

"That's me," Bobby looked between the men.

"Is that blood?" Eddie asked as he joined them. He looked around the empty bay. "Wait, where's-"

"Buckley will hopefully be at Good Samaritan by now," the second firefighter said.

"What happened?" Bobby asked, his heart rate picking up as he took it all in. There were discarded gloves and blood on the floor.

"We were going to ask you the same thing," the first said.

"Who are you?" Chim asked.

"Morris and Jameson from the 122." The one named Jameson said.

"What happened to Buck?" Bobby asked.

"He called 911," Morris said bluntly. "Never had a call to another station before. Our captain said it never really happens.

"Why? Is he alright?" Eddie asked.

"He was coughing up blood," Jameson answered, gesturing to the spots on the floor. “Heard something about an embolism.”

"That can't be right," Eddie said. "He is on blood thinners."

Morris eyed Eddie skeptically. "Diaz, is it? That's why we're here to talk to Captain Nash. Our captain has a few concerns."

"Where is your captain?" Chim asked.

"He decided it best to go with Buckley," Jameson told him. “Said the guy sued the department once already and that he wanted to make sure he didn't have any reason to do it again. Best care and all that."

"He dropped the suit," Hen said.

Jameson shrugged. "They said that, but we're still confused on how an embolism risk is not only on duty but alone. That seems a bit-"

"He isn't working calls. That is why he was here," Bobby said. "A sort of light duty."

"So you're a man down on calls?"

"For now," Bobby said.

"Riiight," Morris said. "Might be for a lot longer now."

"So he had another embolism?" Bobby tried to get the conversation back to how Buck is now.

"It was what dispatch said he managed to say," Jameson answered. "She wasn't sure because sounded like the guy was coughing up a lung, and from how we found him, I believe it. The guy was collapsed on the ground struggling to breathe and coughing up blood. So seemed right to the medics. They got a tube in, we loaded him up and got him out of here."

"Oh, Buckaroo," Hen said as she shook her head. She reached over and gave Eddie's shoulder a squeeze. He'd gone quiet and a bit pale as they listened to them talk.

"But honestly, we're a bit confused because Deluca used to talk about how close you guys are, but your own guy had to call for us? How does that even happen?"

"It is a long story," Bobby sighed.

"We got until the boss calls us out, and I'm sure the chief will want to hear." With that, Bobby took the two firefighters to his office.

"You okay?" Hen asked Eddie.

"He is on the blood thinners. How could this happen?" Eddie asked, his eyes glued to the blood splatters on the ground.

"Well, meds can fail," Hen said.

"But they usually don't-"

"He couldn't remember if he took them," they all looked up to see another member of the 122 come through the doors.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"Or at least that was what I could figure out with just yes and no questions in the rig," she said. "He might be on them, but he had to have missed more than just one dose for this to happen." She gestured to the mess on the ground.

"He was awake? Is he okay?" Eddie asked.

"He was conscious and as okay as someone can be with a tube shoved down his throat, though I guess his sister said he'd had a trach before, so I guess he has had worse."

"Maddie is there?" Chim said as he pulled out his phone.

"If that is his sister, then she was on her way last I heard from my captain."

"But is he-"

"As fun as this game of 20 questions is, where are Morris and Jameson?"

"In talking to our captain," Hen said.

"Can you take me to them?" The medic asked.

"Sure, he'll be glad to hear Buck was awake." Hen said as she leads her toward Bobby's office.

Chim pulled his phone from his ear. "Maddie's not answering."

Eddie rubbed at his face and looked down at the blood again. "Why wouldn't he call us?"

"You're seriously asking that?" Chim said, causing Eddie to look up at him.

"What the hell does that mean?" Eddie said.

"I mean, if you haven't noticed, this whole situation is a disaster. I thought that scene at the store was bad, but been more than a bit frosty around here since he came back."

"Don't you put this all on me. That’s-" Eddie said, a sharp edge to his tone.

"I'm not. I just-" Chimney started.

"This is on all of us," Bobby said as he approached them. "But mostly me. I should have been keeping a closer eye on him." They all watched as the 122 went back to their vehicles and left.

"Can we go see him?" Eddie asked.

"After we get this place cleaned up."

Buck woke up to the sound of harsh whispers.

"No, this is all your fault. You had one job, to keep your team safe, including my brother. You don't get to pick and choose who on your team you care about. You are their captain, his captain-"

"Mads," Buck managed to call out. His voice sounded off to his own ears, and his throat felt like someone sandpapered it. But at least the tube was out.

"Hey, take it easy. Your vocal cords took a bit of a beating," Maddie said as she rushed back to his side and held up a styrofoam cup with a straw. He took a drink, and it helped soothe his throat a bit, but not much. He looked up at the door and saw Bobby standing in it. Buck forced himself not to flinch but must have failed when he felt his sister squeeze his hand.

"This is what I didn't want to happen," Maddie glared at Bobby. "You-"

"I know this is my fault," Bobby said. "I know I failed Buck. I figured he'd be fine at the station, that he-"

"He is sitting right here," Buck grumbled.

"I know, and I am so sorry Buck," Bobby said. "This should never have happened I-"

"If the 122 hadn't read you the riot act, would you even be here?" Maddie asked.

"Of course, he is still a part of the team, still one of us." Bobby nodded.

"Got a funny way of showing it," Maddie huffed.

"Maddie," Buck cautioned.

"No, Evan," Maddie held his hand between hers. "They treated you terribly. You dropped the suit and did everything they asked, and they still let this happen."

"They didn't make me miss my meds," Buck admitted.

"About that, Buck, when did you stop taking them?" Bobby asked.

"I didn't intentionally do it. I just ran out and couldn't get to the pharmacy because I had to work."

"You should have told me. I would have-" Bobby started to say.

"Don't," Maddie cut him off. "Do not make him feel bad about this. You assigned his shifts. You assigned him every chore in the book. He could have died, and you guys would have come back and found him dead in the station. The one you are supposed to be in command of."

"I know, and that is something I have to live with,” the captain admitted, “Knowing how close we were to losing Buck, and it was absolutely preventable. If we had just paid more attention."

"Damn right you should have," Maddie said, glaring at him.

"I know, and you can't possibly know how sorry I am." Bobby turned to look at Buck and took a few steps closer. "If you want to transfer out, I would understand, we all would, and I know nothing can change what we did, but I promise if you come back things will be better."

"Why would I transfer? What house would want the guy that sued his boss and the department?" Buck said, his face reflecting his depressive state.

"Well, the 122 was quick to call us out. One of the old 118 crew had told them about us, and what they saw didn't mesh with that idea, and they had a lot of questions. You made quite an impression on them. I'm sure you could-"

"You promise if I come back that everyone won't hate me, and I will get to do more than grunt work, right?" Buck asked.

"I assure you most of the team has already changed their tune," Bobby said.

"I don't know,” Buck said, his doubts clear in his tone. “Eddie was so pissed before-"

"I'm sure if Eddie was still angry he wouldn't be out in the waiting room,” Bobby informed him, “the others too."

"Unless he came to yell at him some more," Maddie grumbled.

"If his reaction when we got back to the station was anything to go by,” Bobby said to try and assure them, “I doubt he'll do much yelling, but only Eddie can really answer that."

"So you are really sure they don't hate me?" Buck asked.

"We don't hate you, Buckaroo," Hen replied. They all looked up to see Hen, Chim, and Eddie at the door.

"Right," Buck said, not really believing her.

"Buck," Hen started but was stopped by Eddie.

"You might not believe us now, and that's on us," Eddie said as he moved closer to Buck's bed. "And if we have to earn that back, we will.”

Buck looked up at his sister. “Is this really happening? I’m not dead, right?”

“They’re lucky you aren’t dead, or your lawsuit would look trivial compared to the hell I would have raised,” Maddie admitted without hesitation. “And as tempting as doing it anyway seems and as much as I’d love to see these 3 sweat it, I won’t do that to you.” She squeezed her brother’s hand. “You’ve been through enough.”

“I just want to go back to normal,” Buck said.

“Evan…” Maddie started.

“We can’t go back, can’t change what is done,” Bobby admitted. “Believe me. I wish I could. But we can do better going forward.”

“And we will,” Eddie stated.

“All of us,” Hen added.

“Yeah, what they said,” Chim nodded.

Maddie shook her head but asked, “And you’ll make sure he gets back on his feet and stays that way?”

“Of course,” Bobby agreed.

“You swear you’ll actually have his back this time?” Maddie looked at Eddie.

“On my life,” Eddie answered.

“I will hold you to that, Diaz,” Maddie told him.

“Maddie, please, I just-” Buck started.

“I’m not going to be sorry about holding them accountable, Evan. You wouldn’t be here if they did their jobs. I’m not going to stand here and listen to them make empty promises. They don’t get to try and save their own asses just because another crew called them out.”

“We won't make the same mistake again,” Bobby assured her.

“I’ll make sure they don’t.” They turned to see Athena standing in the doorway.

"Good," Maddie says. She did still trust Athena.

"I just want to go back to work," Buck says.

"And you will after you're cleared for duty," Bobby says.

"But they will not be standing in your way this time," Athena says. “Their superiors have assured me.”

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that even I got a call from the fire chief and the captain of the 122. And they will be keeping an eye on things. And so will I."

Buck groans and drops back against the pillows.

"Evan," Maddie says. "It means they are taking this as seriously as it should be. This sort of thing should never have happened." She glares at her brother's team. "The chief probably just wants to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"And it won't,” Bobby insists. “We'll take whatever punishments the department sees fit. If that's having to put up with inspections and even an investigation, that's fine. We'll do it."

"Technically, I don't think we broke any written rules," Chim points out. Earning a glare from Maddie. "But it was still wrong," he adds. "Hen and I should have stepped in when you came back."

"We should have been checking in with you on how you were feeling and how the meds were going," Hen adds. "We're the medics on the team. Everyone's well-being is supposed to be even more important to us. And we botched that."

"We never wanted this to happen," Chim says. "No one wants you to suffer."

Buck huffs, but it turns into a cough.

Eddie is at his side before he can even get a breath in.

"Slow breaths, as deep as you can without it hurting," Eddie tells him. He goes to put a hand on Buck's back, but the younger man flinches. And Eddie pulls away like he was burned. Maddie rubs her brother's back instead.

"Thank you for the update, but Evan needs his rest," Maddie says sternly. Shutting down any further conversation. "Athena, you are welcome to stay, but I must ask the rest of you to leave."

"Understandable," Bobby acquiesces. "Let us know when you're feeling better, Buck. Then we can discuss your schedule." Buck nods. Bobby turns to the team. "Let's go." He can tell Eddie wants to fight him in this. "We can discuss this later."

Once back at the station, Eddie stares at the now clean spot that was the only hint that Buck had ever been in trouble.

"Eddie," Bobby starts. "You need to give him time. Maybe we both need to start by telling him why we've been so hard on him. I know you hate seeing him hurting as much as we all do, but Maddie is right. We owe him an explanation. We owe it to him to fix this. To be better. I'm going to go call the chief. We may be in for a tough few weeks, but it's…well, it's deserved. We made this mess. I made this mess. Now it's time to face the consequences." He gave Eddie a pat on the shoulder before heading to his office.

Bobby was right. They needed to fix it. And Eddie had a good idea of where to start. If Buck was still in the hospital in the morning, Eddie was going to bring Christopher to see him. If he was back home, then he and Christopher would bring him breakfast. Either way, starting tomorrow morning, Buck would have Christopher back. It may take Buck longer to let Eddie back in, but this would be a start. A peace offering. Yeah, that was a good plan. But first, he needed to call Carla and endure whatever lecture he was about to get. She has been Buck's friend longer than Eddie was. She would not be happy about what happened, but he was sure she would help him. She would help for Christopher's and Buck’s sake. She cares for them both. Eddie might have to work to get back in her good graces now too, but maybe a few added paid days off might help. Maybe. Either way, he had a plan.

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