Brotzly sickfic I wrote at like 4am last night
Todd knew Dirk well enough by now to recognize that his insistence that he was “perfectly fine” was a red flag on its own. Over the past few hours, Dirk had become progressively quieter, and slower. And (if Todd dared to admit it), decidedly pale. But each time Todd raised a brow or even outright asked if he was okay, Dirk would deflect with a wave of his hand and a big stupid smile. “Oh, please, Todd! I am perfectly functional! Even if I’m… slightly less dazzling than usual!”
By the time they’d gotten back to the apartment from the agency, Dirk was walking so heavily that Todd practically had to steer him toward the couch.
“Alright, that’s it.” Todd said, exasperated, as he watched Dirk slump into the cushions, the usual spark in his eyes dimming. “You’re sick, Dirk. Just admit it, okay? You’re not fooling anyone.”
Dirk raised his head as if to protest, but only managed a half-hearted cough. He blinked, looking betrayed by his own body. “I’m not sick, Todd! I’m simply… Recalibrating. Yes! Recalibrating my systems!”
“Oh, come on.” Todd muttered tiredly, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over Dirk’s shoulders. “You look half-dead.”
As much as Todd found Dirk fascinating and adored him, he could be such an idiot sometime.
Dirk huffed indigentaly, which quickly turned into a coughing fit. Todd could see his resolve crumbling as he leaned back, looking (for once) like he didn’t have a witty (witty isn’t exactly the right word, stupid fits better) comeback.
That was all the confirmation Todd needed.
He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table in front of Dirk. “Drink.” He instructed, tone brooking no argument. When Dirk reached for it weakly, Todd didn’t even comment about the way his hands were shaking, just watched to make sure he actually drank it.
Dirk took a sip, then scowled. “Todd, you don’t have to fuss over me. I’m actually quite capable of managing whatever minor cold I may have.”
“Minor cold?” Todd raised an eyebrow. “Dirk, you practically collapsed on the couch, That’s not a ‘minor cold.’ Just… Let me take care of you, okay?”
Dirk blinked, looking genuinely caught off guard. “You… want to take care of me?”
Todd rolled his eyes. “Yes, that’s what friends do, asshole. Now, stay put. I’ll find some medicine or something.”
Dirk grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, but he didn’t protest. Todd knew it was a rare thing for Dirk to admit weakness, even in the face of being visibly unwell, so he’d take the small victories as they came.
After a rummage through his medicine cabinet, he found some cold medicine and brought it back to Dirk, who wrinkled his nose at it like a child.
“Cold medicine is made with the singular purpose of tasting like… like an industrial-strength cleaner.” Dirk murmured.
“Yeah, But it’ll help, so suck it up.” Todd replied, shaking his head.
Dirk scrunched his nose but swallowed it down, grimacing as he did.
“Is this really necessary?”
“Absolutely.” Todd replied, fighting back a smile. Dirk’s usual bravado was tempered by an almost childlike reluctance in the face of the medicine, and Todd found himself strangely touched by it.
After a few minutes, Dirk’s head tipped back against the couch, eyes drooping. He looked oddly vulnerable, face flushed and hair slightly messy plastered against his forehead. Todd quietly grabbed a washcloth, dampened it, and placed it over Dirk’s burning forehead.
He didn’t protest this time, though his eyes fluttered open briefly, looking at Todd as if he was trying to understand this small kindness.
“Get some sleep, Dirk.” Todd said, his voice soft. “Just rest for a bit.”
Dirk seemed to relax at last, his body easing into the cushions. He opened his mouth, looking as though he wanted to say something, but the weight of exhaustion overtook him, and his eyes slipped shut. In the silence, his breathing evened out, and Todd felt a sense of relief settle over him. He settled in on the armchair next to the couch, ready to stay until he was needed again.
As the hours passed, Dirk would occasionally stir, murmuring snippets of half-formed sentences. Something about “Cosmic constellations” and “Harmonic patterns” that Todd didn’t bother to try and understand, he only chuckled, adjusting the blanket and keeping the washcloth cool when Dirk’s fever flared. In the soft, dim light of the room, Todd realized he didn’t mind taking on this role. Dirk had done plenty for him, saved him from his shitty life before. And now Todd was finally able to give him something back.
In the early hours of the morning, Dirk stirred again, eyes cracking open just enough to spot Todd half asleep on the armchair.
“Thank you, Todd.” He murmured, words barely audible but deniably heartfelt.
Todd woke up and gave him a dazed smile. “Don’t mention it, really.”
Dirk gave a faint nod, and his eyes closed again. Surrendering to sleep with a rare, unguarded ease. Todd stayed by his side, watching over him until he dozed off himself. Feeling, for once, that he was right where he needed to be.
