Breaking News - part ii
tw: vomiting, hospitals, major injury
Written with @lickstynine, as you all well know xx
What the fuck do you mean he’s puking blood?
Harrison tapped his phone against his bouncing knee, scowling down at the screen and willing Oliver to start typing. The kids had gone down easily, and now it was just him and a quiet house and nothing to distract him. After a minute that felt like an hour, he tried again.
Ollie, fucking call me I mean it
Busy, talk later came the short reply. Harrison scowled at his screen, swallowing an angry shout that surely would've woken his children. Instead, he heaved himself up out of his seat, pacing the room as he waited for an update. Out of all of his brothers, Harrison had always been the worst at waiting. In hockey, he'd never been as good as Daichi at waiting for an opportunity, always trying to force the play when it wasn't on. He'd had little patience for reading, skipping to the ends of books to find out what happened faster. Hell, he'd missed out on college because he couldn't wait for Shelley to get on birth control.
As he circled the room like a furious caged animal, Harrison found himself unreasonably angry that his children needed to be watched. That his wife wasn't there to watch them. That he had put himself into such a miserable position through years of stupid fucking decisions, and now he couldn't be there when his brother and best friend needed him most. Daichi was always there for him. Daichi had been the first person Harrison had told about Shelley being pregnant. He'd talked him down when he got cold feet the night before the wedding. When their marriage had last been on the rocks, Daichi had wordlessly handed him a voucher for a romantic getaway and then taken the kids while they were away for the weekend. And now he was what, bleeding internally? And Harrison was just sitting at home twiddling his thumbs.
He felt bad for the thoughts almost immediately. Whatever difficulties they had, he did still truly care for Shelley, and even if they hadn't been entirely on purpose, he loved his children more than anything. God, what an asshole he was. Getting so wrapped up in his own frustrations that he was blaming everyone around him. He just wished he didn't feel so powerless. If there was anything, even the most menial task, that he could do to help Daichi, it would've eased his guilt immensely.
He slumped back down on the sofa with a heavy sigh. If it was really bad, he reasoned, Oliver would call him, right?
Right?
***
Ellen, clearly a trainee nurse from her uncertainty and the colour of her scrubs, led Oliver to a small, seated area. He couldn't sit for long though, too much pent up fear coursing through his veins for him to stay in one place. Even when she told him that this could happen after jaw surgery and was usually fine, his doubts weren't assuaged, but he shot off a text to his brothers anyway.
Nurse thinks probably fine?
Was she right, though? His mind drifted through old history classes, centuries and millennia of people not understanding what was wrong or how to treat it. He imagined some mad medieval doctor offering to bleed Daichi, rambling about unbalanced humours. A filthy herbalist shoving a foul mixture of plants at the problem. So-called scientists providing tinctures of opium or mercury. Who was to say that today's doctors were that much better?
He was broken from his reverie when the older nurse came marching back with news. He didn't understand any of it - stupid, useless philosophy degree - but he did understand that he could go back in and sit with his brother.
“The doctor will be along shortly,” she said, not unkindly. “Try not to worry too much, or your brother may become distressed.”
Oliver muttered an insincere thanks, unable to keep from sulking as he hurried back to Daichi's room. He did school his face into a more neutral expression before stepping inside - Daichi didn't need the stress of seeing that he was angry.
“Ollie…”
At the sound of his name, he hurried to the side of the bed. Perching on the edge of the mattress, he squeezed Daichi's shoulder with a smile.
“I'm here, bud, you're good.”
“‘sssssooooo f’cked up,” Daichi groaned, his brow scrunching up in discomfort. “Wanna go home.”
Oliver reached out, wrapping an arm as gently as he could around Daichi. He remembered for a moment back when he had been bigger than Daichi, when his kid brother had come to him in moments of worry, before a big game or a major exam. He wished he could offer the same kind of comfort he had then.
“Home,” Daichi begged, tucking himself as neatly as possible against Oliver's body. “Don't…”
He broke off with a lost little sob. Oliver fought the urge to crumple atop him, instead stroking Daichi's hair as gently as he could. “Hey. Hey, it's gonna be okay. I've got you. You'll be okay.”
“‘s Mom?” Daichi asked, leaning into Oliver's touch.
“She'll be here as soon as she can,” Oliver promised, praying that his parents’ flight had departed on time. “Probably next time you wake up, even.”
“Stay here. Leas’ til mom gets here?” Daichi begged.
“I'm not going anywhere.”
***
Anxiety sat like a rock in Shiro's gut, and he tried to swallow the knot in his throat. He watched as the three dots rippled, rippled, rippled… and disappeared. His stomach lurched.
Maya sighed. “Call him before you puke. Stop looking at your phone.”
Shiro nodded meekly, pulling up Oliver's number and looking for the right button. Even that was enough to peak his nausea, and he knew he needed to turn the screen off as soon as Oliver picked up.
“What's going on?” He asked, all too aware of how high and whiny his voice had become. “Is he alright? Are they doing anything about it?”
“Woah, woah,” Oliver said. His tone was calming, but there was a tight edge of worry running underneath. “Take a breath, kid. He's totally stable right now, alright? There's no emergency, it's just kinda…gross. I'd let you talk to him, but…just one minute.”
There was a clatter, then the muted noises of Oliver and Daichi talking, then soft, miserable gagging. Shiro grimaced, a pallor taking over his own face. Maya didn't miss the way he gulped, and she hollered over her shoulder towards the speakerphone. “We're gonna call back later, Ollie. This one needs to take a break.”
“No, I…”
Shiro protested weakly but he handed over the phone when she reached back for it.
“Do you need me to find somewhere to stop?”
“Uhhh…” Shiro hesitated, wanting to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. Momo, on the other hand, seemed deeply unhappy, whining and nosing his side.
“I'll stop at the next gas station,” she decided, not bothering to wait for him to make up his mind. “You can get some air, I'll grab you a 7up. I need a coffee anyway.”
“Okay,” Shiro sighed, running a trembling hand through Momo's fur. “We have to hurry, though.”
“We have to be safe,” Maya replied, shrugging apologetically. “It's no help to anyone if I fall asleep behind the wheel and you puke your brains out.”
Shiro took a shaky breath, struggling to worry about himself when his mind was still on his brothers. The flurry of texts, the sounds on the phone, the lingering visual of Daichi slamming into the ice. He swallowed tightly, murmuring, “Ollie said he was throwing up blood.”
“That's scary,” she nodded, scanning the road signs for options. “But he's in a hospital right now, which is the safest place he could be.”
“I hate not being there yet,” Shiro mumbled. “I feel like the second I stop paying attention, something awful will happen.”
“Well, right now, that something is about to be you throwing up, so hang on until I find us a rest stop,” Maya said.
“Mmhmm…”
Shiro huddled back in his seat, hugging his arms around his middle. He really was starting to feel awful, his mouth hot and wet and numb as he swallowed back the nausea. He squeezed his eyes shut, shivering slightly as Momo's cold, wet nose brushed against his neck. She climbed onto his lap, lying across him like a weighted blanket, and he tried to focus on her warm steadiness instead of the whirlpool churning in his stomach. He felt no better when Maya pulled into the next stop, stumbling out of the car to slump miserably on the nearest bench.
Climbing onto the bench beside him, Momo pressed her body against Shiro, her fur blissfully warm against the chilly night air. Even her solid presence beside him seemed to wobble, leaving Shiro hunched over until his fringe was brushing his knees. His insides tilted and whirled like a cheap carnival ride, reckless and rapid and vaguely perilous. His stomach tensed, and he pursed his lips together in a tight line, forcing a slow, deep breath in and out his nose. He considered asking Maya how much longer they had to drive. He realized he didn't want to know.
Maya came back with a Sprite and a bag of chips and a packet of blue plastic sick bags. Shiro felt too rotten to be embarrassed. It wasn't like she'd never seen him puke before. Shaking like a baby deer, he made his way back to the car and crawled into the backseat. Momo climbed up beside him, nestling into the crook of his body. Still trembling, Shiro looped his arms around her neck with a queasy groan.
“I'll put the music on again,” Maya said quietly. “The Sprite is in your cupholder, okay? I cracked the seal so it shouldn't be too fizzy.”
“...kay,” Shiro mumbled, burying his face in Momo's soft fur. As Maya was just readying to take off, he spoke up again. “Wait… can you check my phone?”
“Yeah, I'll keep it in the front, okay?”
Shiro frowned, but he knew Maya was right. He sighed, finally giving a reluctant, “Okay.”
“Cool. I'll tell you if there's any update.”
It was even harder to focus on the road as they got further into the boonies. The less commonly traveled stretch of highway hadn't been re-paved in years, and the road curved with the land it traversed rather than cutting straight through. Every bump and turn elicited a whimpering groan from Shiro, bag clutched tight in his clammy hands as he struggled to swallow the foul taste rising in his throat. He kept thinking about Daichi, about the miserable sounds of him being sick through the phone. How, even at that distance, he had been about to hear how much pain his brother was in. How he should have been there.
It started as a sob. Shiro's chest tightened, and suddenly, his stomach lurched. A miserable cry trailed off into a choking heave, liquid crinkling against the plastic bag as he continued to retch. The plastic became full and warm and heavy, all his post-comp rehydration spilling out of him like water from a weir.
Maya cringed, glancing back at him over her shoulder. Momo met her gaze, sharing a knowing, worried look. “Try to breathe,” Maya murmured. “Say the word if you want me to stop.”
“S’okay,” Shiro croaked, burying his face in his arm as he struggled to control his breathing. “Next gas station maybe, so we can throw this out.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Maya agreed. “I'll keep an eye out.”
Shiro grunted in a way that sounded vaguely like thanks, fingers clutching at the fabric of the car seat as a tidal wave of vertigo slammed into him. Momo crooned softly beside him, pressing against his body to keep him steady. He thought about Daichi. He wished he were there already.
***
When Daichi woke up, he wasn't much in the mood for visitors. Even with medication, he had an absolutely pounding headache, and the barely-useful pain meds were making him vaguely nauseous. He couldn't even try to force a smile when he saw Shiro, only giving a feeble wave. Their parents had arrived by then as well, which should have been comforting, but he just felt stifled and self-conscious. It definitely didn't help that, only minutes after he woke, his girlfriend showed up.
“I can't believe I had to call your mother to find out you were in the hospital,” Brynnlee pouted, flashing the rest of his family an accusatory glare. “Why didn't you send me a message?”
“I wasn't really up to texting, Brynn,” he muttered.
“Well someone should have,” she insisted, letting her lower lip tremble as her voice wavered. “I watched the match, baby, I was so scared.”
“We all were,” Oliver said, not hostile but very stern. “Once things settled down, I was going to let you know. It was a rough night.”
“I ...okay,” Brynnlee conceded, perching on the mattress by Daichi's head. “Sorry. What did the doctors say?” She turned her attention to her boyfriend, wincing a little at the mottled, swollen sight of him. “How are you feeling, baby? Your mom said something about surgery? When are they letting you out?”
“I’unno yet,” Daichi sighed, even that simple movement making his face ache. “I barely know what's goin’ on. Woke up feelin’ like I got hit by a bus.”
Her face tensed. “Should I get a nurse? Do you need more medication? Are you still gonna be my date to that New Years Gala?”
Daichi blinked, clearly overwhelmed, while Shiro and Oliver shared a dubious glance. Groaning softly, Daichi rested a hand gingerly against his temple. “Uhhh… when is it?”
“New Year's Eve, dummy,” she giggled, stroking his hair and seeming to forget all her other, unanswered questions.
“That's just over a week, bud,” Oliver said gently. “You might be out of here by then, but you probably still won't be feeling good.”
“A week?” Daichi's face crinkled in confusion. “Of course I'll be fine in a week.”
Now the whole Jansen family exchanged glances of alarm. Daichi's brow furrowed further despite how it hurt.
“What? Why are you guys looking at me like that?”
“Dude…” Oliver looked up at his parents in a silent plea for help.
“It's going to take a bit longer than that to heal, sweetheart,” their mother said gently, patting Diachi’s leg. “The bruising won't even be gone by then.”
Brynnlee’s nose wrinkled. “Oh, yeah. You can't be my date, then. I need to figure out who's taking me.”
“Fucking hell,” Oliver groaned. “Kick a man while he's down, why don't you? Don't you want to spend New Year's Eve with your boyfriend?”
“Well, yes but…” She blinked, as if the thought hadn't even occurred to her. “I already bought a dress. You wouldn't want me to miss out, would you baby?”
What Daichi wanted was for everyone to stop talking. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as the pounding in his head intensified.
“Baby, I'm asking a question. Do you want me to miss a party where I already bought a pretty dress?”
“You should go,” he murmured, squeezing her hand. Anything to stop her talking. “Send me photos. Bet you'll look hot.”
“Of course I will,” she said, smiling broadly. “Hm… do you think I could borrow your brother for the party? Not these two, the handsome one.”
Shiro snorted.
“If you wanna fight his wife for him,” he said, giving her an incredulous look. “I wouldn't risk it.”
“I'm not trying to steal him,” Brynnlee huffed. “I just need arm candy for the night.”
“And so you chose the only married lbrother?” Oliver asked drily.
“I chose the only hot brother,” Brynnlee corrected, rolling her eyes. “Shiro is too young, and you are too….skinny.”
“Babe, be nice,” Daichi mumbled, “Ollie is nerdy hot. It's different.”
“Aaand that's the painkillers talking,” Shiro laughed, only to quickly add, “Not that you're not hot! Just that he wouldn't usually…”
“I know what you meant,” Oliver smirked. He squeezed Daichi's hand again, waiting for his brother to turn and look at him. “Is there anything I can get you? Water or something? You don't look comfortable."
Daichi nodded meekly, but when he looked at Oliver, his lips parted and his stare went blank. Whatever he had wanted had slipped from his mind like water through a sieve, a mixture of loss, alarm, and confusion shining in his eyes. “...I don't know.”
“That's alright,” Oliver nodded. “You want me to list some stuff? Or just tell me when it comes back to you.”
“Uh… you. You please.” Daichi stammered, still fighting his own brain to put words together.
“Okay,” Oliver said patiently. “I could get you water? A blanket? More pillows? I could go get your suitcase so you can have real pajamas.”
Daichi blinked desperately up at him, but none of the words jogged his memory at all. He knew that he wanted something - he felt far too awful not to do anything about the situation. “I don't know,” he repeated, panic rising in his voice.
“Well, figure it out,” Brynnlee told him. “He's trying to help you.”
It was at this point that Mrs. Jansen stepped in, barely a foot away from Brynnlee as she planted her hands firmly on her hips. “That's enough,” she said, her voice more severe than Oliver and Shiro had heard in years. “Daichi is still very hurt, and being interrogated isn't helping him recover.”
“Sorry Mom,” Oliver nodded, visibly chastened. “You just tell me when you're ready, okay bud? No need to play twenty questions.”
“Okay,” Daichi nodded, but stress still shone bright in his eyes. His vision was fuzzy, wobbling in and out of duplicity, and he wondered how much was his injury and how much might be a burgeoning headache. He blinked hard, trying to force his whole being back into focus. “Don't feel….good.”
“Try to rest, darling,” Mrs. Jansen murmured, ghosting a hand over his cheek. “We can leave you in peace. It's a lot to handle at once, you're probably overwhelmed.”
“Just wanna sleep,” he agreed.
His mother nodded, beginning to gather and shoo away the rest of their family. Brynnlee initially went to argue, but a sharp look from Mrs. Jansen was enough to shut her up and get her moving. Shiro was, though loathe to leave his brother, almost too exhausted to walk straight, giving his family tight hugs before turning to squeeze Daichi's hand. He was relieved to see Maya and Momo sitting in the nearest waiting room, and he knelt down to wrap his arms around the dog's neck, desperate for her warm, silent comfort.
“That bad?” Maya asked quietly.
Shiro only managed a tiny nod. If just seeing his brother like this was putting his family through the wringer, he couldn't imagine what poor Daichi must actually feel like. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.