Hey y’all, hope ur having a good day <3 you might have seen me talking on Bee’s blog recently ( @behaviour-problem ) about how I’m currently in exposure therapy for emetophobia/OCD. Bee’s been posting a lot of sick fics recently and first and foremost, they are so well-written (as is everything they write) and the hurt/comfort in the fics/blurbs always makes me feel warm n fuzzy. Additionally, these fics act as exposures for me since they involve illness! Which is an added bonus.
The point is, I’ve been inspired by their fics, as well as my exposure therapy to write my own fic involving sickness. Not only do I love writing (and reading) hurt/comfort, but writing about sickness is a great exposure for me, yay 4 being brave! So please enjoy the following little fic (based off the story Katie told on the episode of Gayotic entitled ‘sometimes I do give it a blow’)
TW: head injury, mention of COVID, mention of blood, semi-graphic vomiting
It was 2020, only two months into the pandemic. Most things were at a standstill; restaurants were closed, musicians were cancelling all their concerts, and hospitals were overrun with patients and understaffed.
Katie was feeling stir-crazy. She had moved into a new house a few weeks ago, and had spent a lot of time cleaning, unpacking, and decorating. But now that she was settled in, she was bored. She missed playing shows, she missed being in the studio, she missed going to house parties or meeting up with friends for dinner. She had spent the last two days scrolling on her phone for way too long, and aimlessly pacing around her kitchen when she got sick of being on her phone. She felt stuck in a loop.
However, the week prior she had been planning out the garden in her backyard: researching, ordering tools and soil and seeds. There was a pile of packages in her backyard waiting to be opened, and spending the day gardening seemed like a good remedy to her growing irritation at being cooped up.
She put on comfy shorts and a tank top, ensuring to apply a layer of sunscreen to her freckled skin, laced up some sneakers, and stepped out into her backyard. The weather was warm but not too hot, and the sun was shining high in the Los Angeles sky. She breathed in the scent of fresh air and grass to try and ground herself.
First thing’s first, though, before she could start planting any seeds: she needed to get rid of the weed cloth underneath the dirt. It was a huge piece of plastic, almost like a tarp, that was underneath the soil in her backyard, put there by previous owners with the intention of stopping weeds from growing. But given that it was just plastic, it also prevented the soil from being healthy and enriched. It didn’t feel right, to have plastic in the dirt and underneath everything she was about to plant. She wanted to feel as connected to the earth as possible, and this weed cloth was getting in her way.
She felt like she was bordering just on the edge of slight mania, and had a brief thought that maybe she should wait until she could hire professionals or at least get someone to help her. But she felt a growing sense of determination, as well as impatience. When she got it in her head that she wanted to do something, she got tunnel vision and became so focused on doing that task that any sort of caution or sense of better judgment flew out the window.
So after doing a bit of digging, she grabbed onto the edge of the weed cloth, and started pulling. It was working, and she smiled to herself, feeling excited. She kept pulling, planting her feet down and using all her strength so that she was basically standing at a diagonal. A huge part of the weed cloth was starting to come out, so she yanked harder, fully intent on getting it all out, already imagining how much better her soil would be. She pulled again, even harder this time, and before she could try and stop herself, she lost her balance and shot backwards.
Her head smacked right into the concrete steps by her back door, and her vision blurred for a second as her head exploded with pain. Immediately, tears welled in her eyes and started to flow down her cheeks. She felt her bottom lip quivering as she began to cry, from both pain and fear. She had no idea if her head had split open or if there was blood pooling in her hair. If there was, she would have to go to the hospital, and her heart rate picked up at the thought of catching COVID there.
She fumbled for her phone that she had, thankfully, set on the ground next to the steps earlier. She squinted at her phone through her tears and the pounding in her head and went to her contacts. She clicked the call button next to Josette’s name and held the phone up to her ear.
“What’s wrong?” Jo asked, answering after the second ring. Katie was always asking Jo why they immediately assumed something was wrong when she called her, and Jo always insisted that it was because something usually was wrong when Katie called her out of the blue. This served as further evidence for Jo’s insistence, Katie briefly thought.
“I-I fell,” Katie sniffled. “Hit my head.”
“Shit. Okay, where are you? Home?” Jo asked. Naomi was on the couch next to them in their shared apartment, and looked up from their phone in alarm upon hearing Jo’s question.
“Yeah. Backyard. Sitting on the ground,” Katie sobbed, crying harder upon hearing her bandmate’s concerned voice.
“Okay, you’re okay. Take a deep breath, and don’t try to stand up,” Jo instructed, but Katie only let out another sob in response. “Are you bleeding?”
“I don’t know,” Katie cried, sounding full-on panicked now. “I’m-I’m too scared to check because then if I have to go to the hospital I’m gonna get COVID and die, or I have a concussion and I’m gonna die from that and-“
“Katie,” Jo said, cutting off her frantic rambling. “I promise you’re not gonna die. But you do need to check if you’re bleeding. Can you just reach back and super carefully touch your head?”
“No,” Katie insisted, taking a shuddering breath. “I’m scared.”
Jo sighed. “Okay. I’m coming over. You want Naomi to come too?”
“Yes please,” Katie said. “Hurry.”
“We’ll go as fast as we can,” Jo promised. “Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”
“No, it’s okay,” Katie answered with a sniffle. “Just be here soon.”
“We will. Call me if you need to in the meantime, okay?” Jo said, collecting their shoes as Naomi wordlessly did the same.
“Kay, love you,” Katie said, voice still thick with tears.
“Love you too,” Jo answered, before hanging up and running a hand through her hair.
“Dude, what the hell happened?” Naomi asked, eyes wide with concern as they threw on a pair of sneakers. They had caught enough of the conversation to know that Katie was hurt and they both needed to go make sure she was okay.
“She fell and hit her head in the backyard. I have no idea what she was doing, and she doesn’t know if she’s bleeding or not. She’s kinda freaking out,” Jo explained.
“Shit. That doesn’t sound good,” Naomi said. “Do we need to call 911? Does she need to go to the ER? What about COVID?”
“Okay, well now you’re freaking out,” Jo raised her eyebrows at them as she grabbed her keys and they headed out the front door. Jo climbed into the driver’s seat and Naomi into the passenger seat. “We’ll assess the situation when we get there.”
They drove as quickly as they safely could to Katie’s house, and let themselves in with the spare key she’d given them right after she moved in. They both made their way to the backyard, where they found Katie, sitting in front of the steps with her knees drawn into her chest. Her face was tear-streaked and a bit pale and she was trembling ever so slightly.
“Hi,” she said weakly, gazing up at them.
“Hi, baby,” Jo said, in an ultra-gentle voice that was usually only used exclusively for Katie, when she was sad. “Can I look at your head?”
“Yeah,” Katie replied, voice cracking. The comfort that her best friends brought her, and the tenderness Jo was showing caused a fresh wave of tears to spill over.
Naomi and Jo exchanged a worried glance, and Naomi sat criss-cross in front of Katie, wiping away the tears on her face with the sides of their pointer fingers, and then grabbed hold of her hand, trying to calm her down. Katie squeezed tightly, letting out another sob, and Naomi squeezed back, brushing their thumb along her knuckles.
“Don’t worry, Katie, Dr. Jo is on the case,” Naomi smiled. “We got you, you’re gonna be okay.”
Katie smiled back a little, but tears were still tracking steadily down her face, and she was still taking quivering little breaths.
“Katie, look at me,” Naomi said, voice firmer this time, cupping her cheek with their free hand. “Breathe with me. In and out.”
Katie nuzzled into Naomi’s hand and forced herself to match their breathing, an exercise they had all done for each other during panic attacks before shows and frustration in the studio and exhausted breakdowns on the tour bus.
After a few minutes, Katie’s breathing became closer to normal than it had been since she fell, and her eyes finally dried.
“Good,” Naomi nodded, brushing away the last of the sticky tears off Katie’s face.
“Okay, I’m gonna take a look now. I’ll be as gentle as I can,” Jo said, crouching down behind Katie.
She carefully parted her bandmate’s red hair, poking around with just the tips of her fingers, and apologizing when Katie sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth when she accidentally hit a tender spot.
“Good news, no blood,” Jo said once they’d finished their inspection. “You’re definitely getting a gnarly bump, but no blood or open wound at all.”
“Really?” Katie asked, still clutching Naomi’s hand.
“Really,” Jo answered. “Did you pass out at all when you hit your head?”
“No. My vision just went a little blurry, but I didn’t actually lose consciousness.”
“That’s good. Do you feel any confusion or disorientation?” Jo asked next.
“No,” Katie replied again. “Just hurts like hell.”
“I bet,” Jo winced in sympathy. “But I don’t think we need to go to the ER at all. You might have a concussion, but there really isn’t a treatment for a concussion besides a ton of rest and staying away from bright lights and screens. We’ll keep an eye on you, and if anything gets worse we’ll have to go to the ER. But I really think you’re okay.”
“Okay,” Katie said, letting out a breath of relief. “Thank you. And thank you for coming over so quickly.”
“Of course,” Jo answered easily. “Let’s get you inside and laying down. We’ll help you up slowly.”
Jo took Katie’s other hand, and her and Naomi eased her up gently. When Katie started to sway a little after she was standing, Naomi quickly grabbed her waist and Jo placed a hand on her back.
“You okay?” Naomi asked, trying their best to keep the worry out of their voice.
“Yeah, yeah, just got a little dizzy,” Katie confessed quietly.
Jo and Naomi watched as the color drained from Katie’s face. “Do you think you’re gonna pass out?” Jo asked, wrapping both arms around her now.
“No,” Katie said. “But I think I might throw up.”
Naomi’s eyes widened a little and they fought against the urge to take a step back. “Like, right now?”
“Um, maybe,” Katie admitted, closing her eyes and swallowing harshly.
“You think you can make it inside to the bathroom?” Jo asked, one arm still tightly wound around Katie’s shoulders, the other around her waist.
“No,” Katie said, the word coming out more like a whine.
Instinctively, Naomi moved behind Katie and grabbed her hair, holding it tightly away from her face; a dance they had done several times in their early 20s, during their days of college parties and going out drinking.
Jo stepped behind her too, not interested in being right next to her face while she vomited, but put both of her hands on either side of Katie’s hips to keep her steady.
Katie pitched forward suddenly, gagging harshly, and emptily. She coughed, the wind knocked out of her a little.
Naomi closed their eyes tightly and turned their head away, but placed a comforting hand on Katie’s back, the other one still holding her hair. “You’re alright, just let it out.”
Katie gagged again, this time a wave of vomit spilling from her mouth and into the grass. Before she had a chance to catch her breath, she gagged one more time, bending forward with the force of it, and expelled more vomit from her mouth. Jo and Naomi cringed at the sound of the gagging and the sound of the liquid splashing into the grass.
Katie stayed bent at the waist after she was done throwing up, spitting a few times and breathing heavily. She dragged a shaky hand across her mouth, and slowly straightened back up with a whimper.
“Ohhh Katie,” Jo cooed, frowning in sympathy and rubbing circles onto Katie’s back.
Naomi slowly let go of her hair, smoothing it back down gently with their palm.
“I think you definitely have a concussion,” Jo said softly.
Katie whimpered again.
“But it’s gonna be okay,” Jo reassured her, drawing her into their side. “You’ll just need to get a lot of rest the next few days, and stay off your phone and laptop as much as possible. Try not to watch too much TV either.”
“Can I sleep tonight?” Katie asked from where she was nestled into Jo’s side, head tucked into the crook of their shoulder. Exhaustion was settling heavily into her limbs and she wanted nothing more than to lay down in her bed with the black out curtains pulled shut.
“Definitely,” Jo nodded. “The whole ‘not allowed to sleep after a concussion’ thing is really outdated advice. We’re gonna have to set some alarms and wake you up a few times during the night to make sure nothing’s gotten worse, but then if you’re good you’ll be able to go right back to sleep.”
“You’re gonna stay tonight?” Katie asked, pulling back to look at Jo, eyes big and vulnerable.
“Yeah, of course,” Naomi answered. “You just fucking conked your head and then yarfed all over the place. We’re not gonna just leave you to suffer.”
Katie smiled a little. “Thanks. Love you guys.”
“Love you too,” Naomi and Jo answered at the same time.
“You wanna go lay down?” Jo asked.
Katie nodded. “And brush my teeth.”
“Thank god. Stinky,” Josette joked, pointing an accusatory finger at Katie, who let out a small giggle in response.
Naomi stayed with Katie in the bathroom while she brushed the acid taste out of her mouth, and Jo puttered around Katie’s house, gathering things to bring to the bedroom. She wrapped an ice pack in a towel, dragged a waste basket to the edge of the bed incase Katie got sick again, filled up a cup of water and mixed in a Liquid IV packet she found in a drawer and set it on the nightstand next to a bottle of Tylenol.
Naomi and Katie came into the bedroom where Jo was waiting, and Katie immediately sat on the bed, sighing.
“How are you feeling?” Jo asked.
“Like I have a concussion,” Katie deadpanned.
“So pretty good then?” Naomi said sarcastically, and Katie huffed out a dry laugh through her nose.
“Do you feel nauseous still?” Jo asked, and Katie said no. “How’s your head pain?”
“Mm, not great. But could be worse, I guess,” Katie shrugged.
“Alright, I’ll take it. If you’re still napping in an hour I’ll have to wake you up and make sure you still know your own name and stuff,” Jo explained, and Katie gave a weak thumbs up.
“You wanna get changed?” Naomi asked, taking in Katie’s clothes; her shirt was splattered with snot, tears, and vomit, and her shorts had streaks of dirt on them.
Katie nodded, so Naomi rummaged through her drawers and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a random T-shirt. When they unfolded it, they saw a familiar sight.
“Dude, what the fuck? Is this my T-shirt? I’ve been looking for this for months!” Naomi exclaimed, holding out the shirt.
“Oh, yeah. Accidentally stole it. I wanna wear it though, it’s comfy,” Katie said, and Naomi furrowed their brows a little. “Come on, I’m injured. You have to be nice to me,” Katie pouted.
Naomi rolled their eyes, but they weren’t actually mad. “Alright, alright. But I’m taking it back as soon as you’re not all fucked up.”
Naomi helped her change, Jo pulled the curtains closed and then coaxed her to take some Tylenol and drink some electrolytes. Katie snuggled under the covers after, lying on her side so she didn’t have to put pressure on the growing goose egg on the back of her head.
“You need anything else?” Jo asked after adjusting the ice pack so it was in the proper spot against Katie’s head.
“No,” Katie said, eyes already fluttering closed. “Just you guys.”
“You’ve got us,” Naomi smiled. “We aren’t going anywhere.”
“Kay,” Katie breathed.
Naomi bent down to press a kiss on Katie’s cheek, and Jo did the same. A smile formed on Katie’s lips, and then her breathing evened out and she was asleep.
Naomi and Jo plopped on the floor, leaning back against the mattress, sticking close by in case Katie needed anything.
When Katie woke up an hour later, blinking blearily, the first thing that came into her line of sight was her two best friends, and just their presence seemed to dull the pain in her head a little.
