22 & 23. Common Cold/Flu & Tepid Bath
These two fit so well together we couldn't help but do a combined little ficlet
@sicktember
Hars hadn't been feeling well for a while. After adding in a few too many late nights and even more bad decisions, it well and truly reared its head.
He'd been unable to settle overnight, tossing and turning, somehow both too hot and too cold.
Steve was worried about Harrison too. He could see him getting more and more run down, late nights and too much alcohol. He’d not long been part of the family, the adoption papers having only come through a couple of months ago.
When Monday rolled around, he got dressed as usual, intending to go to college. He struggled to actually dress, ending up with his shirt on backwards and two socks on the same foot. He didn't seem to notice, and headed downstairs for breakfast, apparently missing the fact it was almost lunchtime.
From his position on the sofa, Steve looked up from his laptop. Harrison looked a state, hair a mess, clothes all over the place, bags under his eyes.
“Where are you off to?” He asked, trying not to grin.
"College." He said simply, attempting to pack a lunch.
“What time is your first lesson?”
"Same as always." He grumbled. "You know that."
“Have you checked the time?”
"My alarm went off."
“And you’re wearing that?”
"It's clean."
“It’s inside out. And it’s nearly 1pm.”
"Is not." He wasn't entirely paying attention to Steve's conversation, and headed to the front door, still determined he was leaving.
“Go back to bed, Harrison.”
"I've got college." He said firmly, struggling with the door.
“You’ve already missed the entire morning. I called you in sick at 8.”
"Because I can't get out of the house!" He argued, frustrated. "What have you done to the door?"
“It’s locked, because you’re sick and you need to go back to bed.”
"I'm not sick! It's just a cold or something. I just need to go to college."
“Do you remember what happened last time you got sick and it was ignored?”
"Wasn't even sick then." He grumbled, though gave up with the door.
“Go back to bed, Harrison. I’ll bring you something to eat.”
"Just half an hour, that's all."
“Sure, if that’s what you want.”
"Yeah." He sniffed, his determination and energy gone.
“Go on, to bed with you. I’ll make you a hot chocolate.”
"Thank you." He gave a weak smile. Steve always knew how to make it better. Bed sounded great, and he dropped his backpack on the floor, slowly padding upstairs.
Steve shook his head fondly, going to the kitchen to make Harrison’s hot chocolate. He’d want it, and hopefully it would make him feel better. The last thing Steve wanted was him getting any worse - the admission the last time he’d been sick had been absolutely terrifying.
Harrison didn't bother changing out of his clothes, though shuffled out of his jeans. He wrapped himself up in his duvet and blankets, his little excursion downstairs having tired him out and made him cold to the bone.
Steve came up after a few minutes, knocking on the door before he pushed it open and headed inside. “Hot chocolate. Have you had any meds?”
Harrison was barely visible through his cocoon, but he shook his head. He’d had none in his room, and hadn't wanted to go downstairs or disturb Steve.
Steve tutted. “I’ll go and get some.”
"Do you have to?"
“It’ll make you feel better.”
"Okay." He said quietly, taking Steve's bribe of hot chocolate.
"I'll be right back." Steve promised, grabbing some paracetamol and a thermometer while he was there. A bottle of water wouldn't harm either, so he brought one up with him, knocking again before entering.
"Hars? Got you some meds and some water to take them with."
Harrison jumped slightly, having drifted with the silence. He reached for his chocolate again, swallowing the meds with a grimace. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Can I take your temperature? You look really flushed."
"Do you have to?"
"Yeah, I'm afraid so." Steve said gently, sitting on the side of the bed.
Harrison sighed heavily. "Okay."
Steve patted Harrison's leg, shooting him an encouraging smile. He was quick to check his temperature, frowning at the numbers.
"Let me check the other ear." He'd hoped it was a mistake, but he knew it wouldn't be much different.
Unfortunately, it was even higher than the first, and he sighed heavily. They really didn't need him being this sick again.
"That bad?" There was a flash of panic across Harrison's face.
"You've just got a fever, kid. Just means your body is fighting off what it needs to do. But, it does mean you can't be swamped by your duvets. I can get you a sheet instead?" He offered.
Fear settled in his features. "No. I need the duvet. I need my blankets."
"Hey, it's okay. It's just to keep your temperature down. Just like taking a cool shower or bath, it just makes sure you're not going to overheat." Steve kept it simple, aware Harrison wasn't entirely firing on all cylinders. "Tell you what, eh? You can keep your duvet but you need to keep it at your feet or by your side. You're not allowed to wrap yourself up in it, okay?"
Harrison hesitated. Steve had just told him he wasn't allowed it, he hadn't dragged it from his grip, hurt him to try and get them away. He took a deep breath, and slowly pushed it to his feet.
"There you go. Thank you, Harrison. I know it's not nice to take it off when you feel rubbish. I'll let you get some more sleep, okay?"
"'kay." Harrison nodded, snuggling under the blanket he'd been allowed. "Thank you."
Steve left Harrison to sleep, hoping that just being under the thin blanket would be enough to stop him getting hotter. He really was worried about the kid, all too aware how it had ended before. His chest seemed okay, at least, just the fever that was concerning. Surely the sleep would help, as would the meds and the water. It was just a waiting game, hoping his body would fight off whatever he’d picked up. Didn’t help that he’d been so run down, the alcohol certainly not helping him.
A few hours later, Steve returned. Harrison had been quiet, hopefully sleeping, and he knocked on the door again before he stepped inside.
“Harrison?” He asked gently.
He stirred slightly, squinting at Steve. He didn’t quite understand why he was so insistent on pestering him.
“Can I check your temp again?”
"No."
“Please?”
"No." He whined. "I wanna sleep."
“It’ll take two seconds, and then you can sleep again.”
He groaned, pulling the sheet over his head. "No."
“Come on, Harrison.”
"Steve, please."
“I just want to check it’s come down.”
"It has."
“I don’t know unless I check.”
"Fine." Harrison was always more agreeable when Steve was around, and he couldn’t help but try and do what he wanted.
“Thank you.” Steve said gently, pulling the blanket back.
The lack of blanket made it so much colder, the small pocket of warmth quickly dissipated. He whined despite himself, burying his face in his pillow as he curled up tighter.
“I know.” Steve soothed. “Just check your temp, won’t take long.” He said as he did it.
"It's better?"
“Afraid not.” Steve said. It was worse, but he wasn’t about to tell Harrison that, he didn’t want to panic the poor kid.
"Oh. Okay. More sleep, then."
“How are you feeling?”
"Cold."
He hummed. “Your temperature is pretty high.”
"That's okay."
“No, it’s not.”
"I'll fix it."
“Oh?”
"Yeah." He settled back down. "It's all fixed now."
“Not sure I share your confidence.”
"That's a shame."
“Here, let me check again.”
"You just checked."
“I need to double check.”
"No you don't."
“I do.”
"I'm asleep."
“Funny, talking whilst you’re asleep.”
"You can check it later."
“If you’re asleep I could just do it now.”
"No."
Steve huffed. “You’re not well.”
He couldn't help the tears that started falling. "I'm sorry."
“Hey, don’t cry.”
"'m cold and you won't let me sleep an' you keep taking my blankets."
“Alright, I know. But you’re far too warm.”
"I'm not."
“You really are.”
Harrison shivered as if to prove his point, managing to push himself up and into Steve's side.
Steve wrapped his arm around him. “I know you feel miserable.”
"A lot."
“Yeah. You’ve got a bad temp.”
"I'm cold." He murmured, snuggling in properly.
Steve sighed, patting him on the shoulder. “Alright. Get some sleep. I’ll pop back later.”
"No." He said quickly. "Don't go."
Steve softened. “Oh. I’ll stay.”
Harrison gave a quiet, happy noise. "Thank you."
Steve settled down to sit with him, still worried but glad Harrison wanted his comfort.
Harrison slept for a while, only growing increasingly warm by Steve's side. At first, it was quiet, but soon enough the nightmares leached into his dreams. He struggled against the sheets, whimpering and crying quietly. Nothing changed, and his nightmares only grew worse, the fever only adding more power to them. He woke with a shout, trying to make himself smaller, to keep himself safe.
Steve hated Harrison’s nightmares. He felt so powerless to do anything about them, unable to wake him and worried as he got hotter and hotter. He managed to get the blanket off of him, hoping that would at least help, but he doubted it would make much of a difference.
“Harrison?” He said gently, once he’d shouted himself awake. “It’s alright, you’re okay.”
He fought against Steve, torn between trying to get away and trying to disappear into the bed. His cries and pleads didn't make sense, talking to people that weren't there.
He was much, much worse than before. Steve’s stomach twisted with nerves and he sighed. “Alright. We really ought to get you cooled down.”
Harrison pushed at Steve's hands, uncoordinated and weak. He was already cold, and couldn't understand how Steve didn't get it. He was supposed to be smart.
Harrison’s skin was so hot it almost burned. Steve didn’t have much of a choice, he needed to cool him down, else he was going to end up in hospital again. Harrison was too agitated for him to bother with trying to take another temperature, and instead he just scooped him up in his arms and carried him to the bathroom.
His heart almost stopped as Steve carried him onto the bathroom, suddenly gaining strength. He writhed and fought against Steve's arms, begging him to stop. After everything, Steve was going to kill him.
Luckily Steve was stronger than Harrison, still skinny and weak. He kept him close to his chest, his heart breaking as the teenager fought him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m gonna help, I swear.”
Harrison gripped tightly onto Steve's shirt, tears streaming down his face. He'd turned to begging, trying anything to stop it.
Steve hated it, apologising constantly as he turned the tap on and waited for it to warm up a little before he set Harrison in the tub. Clearly he was upset, and ordinarily he’d never push him this hard to do something that was this upsetting, but it needed doing. He let the water run over his legs, cupping his hands to trail it over his back. “It’s okay, I promise you’re going to be okay.”
Harrison screamed as the water touched him, trying his best to arch away from it, his hands clawing at Steve's chest. He couldn’t breathe, and each drop of water burned his skin.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please." He begged, his words split by sobs. "Dad, please, I'm sorry. I'll be good. Please."
Steve’s throat tightened, and he tried his best to keep Harrison’s face from getting wet. He knew he’d fucked up, he’d hit a trigger or something, clearly that he knew nothing about. It must have been his old family, his biological family, and Steve hadn’t had any information. But Harrison needed this, else he was going to get much, much sicker. After a while he stopped the running water, just leaving the teenager sat in the tub. He did his best to keep the water moving over him, where he could avoid clawed hands and kicking legs. Steve himself was soaked, his T-shirt clinging to him, but he pushed on. He needed to get Harrison’s temperature down. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re okay, you’ve not done anything wrong. Cooling you down, kid. Cooling you down.”
His words didn't register with Harrison, still fueled by adrenaline and terror. He continued to try his best to scramble out, grabbing at Steve where he could. Steve kept putting water on him, kept him trapped in the bath. He was obviously just dragging it out, making sure Harrison knew how much trouble he'd caused, how much he deserved the punishment.
Steve hated it, the way Harrison grabbed a t him and tried to free himself. It seemed to be working, though, the boy’s skin wasn’t so warm to touch, he seemed slightly more with it.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to hurt you, I’m not gonna do anything to hurt you. I just want to help you. I promise I’m helping you.”
Eventually, his strength died down. He didn't have the energy to fight any more, and slowly resigned himself to whatever was coming.
When he stopped, he expected punishment, to be pushed under and held there, but it didn't come.
The hands on him no longer burned, and he slowly realised they weren't pushing him down but keeping him up, out of the water. They were slow and gentle, each move careful and considered. Gradually, his sobbing stopped, though his breath continued to catch in his throat. He couldn't help himself as he collapsed into Steve, unable to hold himself up any longer.
“Well done, that’s it. You’re alright, I’m not trying to hurt you. Just helping you cool down, yeah?” He said gently, stroking through his hair. “I’m sorry. You’re going to be okay, Harrison I’ve got you. Just breathe. It’s okay.”
