Characters: Dee, Ryo, JJ, Girl.
Setting: Vol. 4, Act 13.
Summary: Dee never usually gets sick, but now he is.
Word Count: 700
Written For: My own prompt ‘FAKE, Dee/Ryo, Woe is me!,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
‘Woe is me!’ Dee thought to himself. Some days, his life sucked so much it was nigh on unbearable. Normally he wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity, but today he felt like he was more than entitled.
He’d started the day by showing up at work feeling uncharacteristically… well, not himself. He’d been shivery, weak, and headachey despite not having a hangover, which would’ve been impossible anyway since he hadn’t been out drinking the previous night. His brain clearly hadn’t been firing on all cylinders because despite the way he felt, and the sniffling and sneezing, he probably still wouldn’t have twigged what was wrong if Ryo hadn’t asked if he was sick.
Sick! He never got sick! It was horrible; the moment the realisation had hit him that he really was sick, he’d felt like he was dying, could practically feel himself wasting away from some unknown but horrific disease, until Ryo, being all pragmatic common sense, had told him it was probably just a cold. He’d also suggested that Dee take the day off and go see a doctor before heading home, promising to clear it with the Chief. Dee had appreciated that, but he couldn’t remember if he’d told Ryo so.
The next thing he recalled was JJ getting on his last nerve, and he may have yelled at the little guy, possibly grabbed him by the shirt and shaken him too, but he might have imagined that part. Hell, he HOPED he’d imagined that. JJ was annoying as all get out at the best of times, but that didn’t mean Dee wanted to physically injure him. Mostly.
All he’d wanted at that moment was to get home where he could suffer in relative comfort. No such luck. Before he’d gotten very far, he’d been accosted by a lost little girl; she couldn’t have been more than five or six, but with one tug at the bottom of his jacket she’d still managed to pull him over. After he’d picked himself up off the sidewalk, he’d spent hours taking care of her until finally managing to reunite her with her very grateful mother. Dee’s good deed for the day; he deserved a medal for going above and beyond the call of duty.
Feeling worse than ever, he’d staggered the rest of the way home, somehow making it up to his fourth floor apartment and getting the door unlocked, even shutting it behind him, before the last of his strength had deserted him. He must have passed out, because he was suddenly face down on the floor with no recollection of how he’d got there.
He wasn’t sure how long ago that had been, and he knew he should get up, because the floor was hard and cold, but he didn’t have the energy to do more than shift one arm so he could pillow his pounding head on it. He wished Ryo was there, and just thinking of his partner was making him all weepy.
‘Woe is me. Didn’t I think that already?’ What did it take to get some sympathy from Ryo? What did he have to do to get the guy to take him seriously? What would it take to win his love, and was that even possible? ‘God, I love him so damned much; I just want to be with him forever. I’m such a hopeless romantic.’
As if thinking about Ryo was enough to conjure him, suddenly there he was, standing there, looking down at Dee and asking why he was on the floor. Like it was intentional, a conscious choice, rather than the result of being unconscious for an unknown length of time. Still, if Dee wanted sympathy from his partner, which he did, he was at least finally getting it as Ryo helped him to the bed and told him he’d be back in a bit with medicine.
Dee got undressed and crawled under the covers, literally because his legs were too weak to support him without help, and the next time he opened his eyes, Ryo was right there, taking care of him. As horrible as he still felt, Dee started to believe that he might just survive after all.