Summary: “What do I do? Claire, she can’t breathe!” When a respiratory illness starts to get a little out of hand, Matt gets worried. But what is he supposed to do when you’re terrified of hospitals?
Author’s Note: This was written as a quick little thing for @mattmurdocksscars 2.5k Writer Challenge! I was almost too late, but I saw it just in time! (Also, this turned out barely fluffy…almost no fluff at all. But it has angst! So, that’s something!)
Warnings: Brief innuendos. Sickness (specifically respiratory, though a fever is implied). Angst. Fluff if you squint. Panic Attack? Fear of hospitals. (Because apparently your girl needs to offload every single one of her traumas onto the poor, unsuspecting reader characters she writes—yolo!). No use of y/n.
Word Count: 930 (short and somewhat sweet)
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“Open your mouth.”
“Geez, Murdock. You could at least buy me dinner first.”
Matt glared, thermometer paused in midair, clearly not amused by your attempt at humour, and the hacking cough shuddering through your lungs obviously agreed with his sentiment.
Chest convulsing, lungs constricting, you coughed until oxygen was a distant memory. Until you were bent over your knees, hacking and gasping. Until black spots floated merrily through your vision and copper tanged the back of your throat.
Finally, wheezing, you became aware of Matt’s hand on your back, rubbing circles between the arches of your shoulder blades. His jaw ticked, muscles working overtime to control the worry in his expression. But you could see it.
“I don’t like the way that sounds, sweetheart.”
“I’m fine.” It was hoarse, strangled…definitely not convincing in any sense of the word.
But dear God, you needed it to be true.
“It’s just a cold.”
Matt didn’t dignify that with a response.
Instead, he simply lifted the thermometer, waiting for you to catch your breath before instructing you again.
“Open your mouth.”
You hesitated.
“Matt…” There was a tremor in your voice that didn’t belong to sickness. Your fingers found the seam of the blanket draped around you, fiddling with it, rubbing the stitches between your fingertips.
His head tilted slightly, a crease of concern forming between his brows. “What is it, sweetheart?”
“It’s just…” You inhaled a shaky breath, eliciting yet another series of coughs.
When the fit was over, and the world returned to the light, you found yourself tucked against Matt’s chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. His own breaths felt laboured beneath his shirt, and you grasped the fabric in your hands.
“Matt, I’m scared.”
His inhale was sharp.
Warm lips met your hairline, one hand smoothing strands away from your face before his chin laid down to rest against the top of your head.
When he spoke, his voice was pained, the words barely a whisper. “What are you scared of?”
“I…Matt, I…” Your chest tightened, another cough rising, cresting the horizon. “Hospitals. Matt…” The coughs burst forth, lungs spasming as you struggled to take in enough oxygen.
The black spots returned. Spinning. Multiplying.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, Matt was calling you, something raw and desperate and pleading in his tone.
You followed the sound, let it lead you back to the light.
He was on the phone now, pacing across the room, hand coming up to muss his hair back away from his face.
“What do I do? Claire, she can’t breathe!” His steps were frenzied, jaw ticking, those beautiful hazel eyes roiling before he turned on his heels towards the bathroom. “Okay…okay, tell me what to do.”
He disappeared into the bathroom, and a wave of exhaustion barrelled over you. Your eyes flickered. Shuttered.
…Then closed entirely.
•••
“She should be in a hospital, Matt.”
“I know, Claire. I know. But what else was I supposed to do? You didn’t…” He hesitated, voice hitching, before dropping almost out of your hearing range. “You didn’t hear how terrified she was at the idea. Her heart…”
He didn’t elaborate, and Claire must’ve accepted the reply, because a bone-weary sigh echoed through the entryway.
“Lots of rest. Lots of fluids. Give her this medication, twice a day. And if she gets any worse, I want you to call a hospital immediately. No matter what she says.”
“Thank you, Claire.”
Fabric rustled faintly before the door opened, hinges creaking. Footsteps wandered out into the hallway, padded and quiet. Another series of creaks, the lock clicking back into place, then silence.
Silence. Living, breathing, permeating the walls of the apartment.
Matt must have followed Claire out. You must be alone.
Pushing yourself into a sitting position, your arms ached and lungs quivered. Tightness in your chest spiralled into a wave of dizziness, and you groaned.
The sound was barely out of your throat before Matt appeared before you, kneeling in front of your face, warm hands landing firmly on your shoulders.
“Easy. Easy, sweetheart.”
You winced, hoarse cough ricocheting in your ribcage, Matt’s strong grasp guiding you gently back against the pillow propped up on the arm of the couch.
His fingers moved to your hairline, discretely gauging your temperature, and sighed.
“Just rest, okay? I’ll go get you some of your medicine.”
“Matt?” Your fingers wrapped around his wrist. Weak, so pathetically weak, but he halted in his tracks. “Am I…I mean… No hospital?”
His expression flickered, something raw and unguarded warring behind his eyes, and a frown marred his features.
The battle waged for several seconds until a tense, guarded sentence came out. “For now.”
Tears trickled into your vision, watery gratitude raising a well in your throat.
“Thank you.”
Matt’s hands found their way to your hair, brushing it softly away from your face before cradling your jaw between his fingers.
His kiss was swift, chaste, the protest of his sharing your germs dying on your lips as you melted into the briefest of touches.
He was in the kitchen before you could even form the words to chastise him.
The clatter of a childproof cap untwisting grated through the apartment, the silverware drawer clanking obnoxiously before Matt returned, on his knees before you again, a spoonful of nasty white medicine in hand.
He smirked, ever so slightly, at the utter revulsion on your face, but worry still formed the baseline of his expression.
“Now,” he said, his words from earlier repeating like a broken record, thumb grazing your cheek softly, reverently. “Open your mouth.”
Skeledaycare group headcanons to this scenario: How would the teachers react to finding out that one of their students was diagnosed with an illness that could prove fatal? What happens if they eventually pass away? And how would they react if they end up pulling through in the end?
First, while the student is sick:
Papyrus and Blue likely spend a lot of time at the hospital, as well as cooking meals for the parents/guardians of the child. They want to do everything they possibly can to help. Sometimes they go a little far in trying to protect the child, restraining them from activities that they could probably do with little risk, but they have the best of intentions. Blue likes to bring in some of their old artwork and knicknacks from their desk to their hospital room for decoration, while Papyrus emails them lengthy updates on what’s happening at the school so they don’t miss a thing.
Sans, Alphys and Stretch visit the kid, but spend a lot of time working with the parent(s), researching alternate cures and trying to find a good path forward. They research as much as they can about the disease.
Red doesn’t say much about it, but no one spends more time at the hospital. Papyrus and Blue leave late and come early, but Red spends the night there more often than not, slumped in a chair. He’s not exactly a comforting bedside presence and he gets snarly if the parents start gushing over him, but he’s always there. He watches the doctors like a hawk to make sure there’s no chance of the kid getting hurt.
Edge pretends not to be too affected by it but while the kid is still at school he is EXTREMELY on his guard for any faltering in his health. If the other children so much as look at them funny for anything related to their health they will be on the receiving end of a lengthy lecture from the Edgelord. Once they move to the hospital full-time he’s in there a couple times a week, ostensibly to get Red back to work, but really just to make sure they’re okay. Also on the Child Protection Team is Undyne, who is giving them all the strength training they can reasonably handle “SO YOU CAN KICK THAT DISEASE’S A-….BUTT”
Rasp tries to take over the process as much as he can, regardless of how much knowledge he has of that particular area. He will yell at nurses, visitors, even the parents, just to feel in some control of what is an extremely chaotic situation for him. Still, he has a deep desire to help anyway he can. Anytime he’s left in charge of the kids turns into a hospital field trip.
Syrup’s at the hospital a lot too. Not as often as Red, but as often as he feels the school and Rasp can spare him. He gets as much information from the nurses as he can about what is and isn’t good for them, and occasionally brings in little treats. He talks to the kid, but mostly just listens. Especially when they need to vent.
I think obviously there would be a lot of devastation if the student died, but it would express itself in different forms.
Red and Edge basically shut down into themselves. Both are a little more aggressive towards the others but try to control it when it comes to the kids. Red spends a lot of time watching them, just staring with a blank expression. Edge seems distracted, and everytime he starts one of his lectures he seems to lose focus midway through his first sentence and ends up telling them to just run along.
Sans tries to keep up a strong face for the kids but spends a lot of time alone in his office. They never hear crying, but he always comes out looking exhausted.
Stretch disappears the day after the funeral. He shows up the next day and won’t talk about it. He does his best with the kids but he’s clearly cruising on autopilot. It takes weeks before he seems fully engaged again.
Papyrus, Blue, and Alphys are distraught and can barely make it through a class without bursting into tears. Sans and Syrup have them take a few days off. The sight of that empty seat is just too much for them at the moment.
Syrup is hurting badly but tries to bury it under his work.
Rasp has to take a few days off too, but for different reasons. His temper, always at a low boiling point, has become volcanic. He’s almost dangerous, even with the kids. Syrup for once puts his foot down and tells him to stay home until he gets it together. This is how he processes, but that’s no reason that the kids should have to deal with it.
Undyne pours her heart and soul into comforting the kids and the others, and if she’s occasionally found having a quick, private cry in the supply shed, even Edge is decent enough not to mention it
If they recover, though, its unequivocal relief. Hospital visits are a frequent event, and all of them engage as best they can in getting them back to health. Papyrus, Blue, and Undyne organize a party for when they return home. Long story short, the school almost burned down, but it was a sweet gesture.
Hearing Clarke say that it's worth the risk to send Bellamy to Mount Weather really hurt my shipper heart. But she also basically admitted that she loves Bellamy so that makes me really happy. I have a lot of mixed feelings after this episode.
