Hatchetfield Stories

Gasoline

I'm sick and tired and projecting onto the murderous robot double of my comfort character.

TRIGGER WARNINGS:
-Sickness

A really light fic that isn't meant to be taken too seriously :) Also don't drink gasoline

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When Paul woke up, he expected Emma to have left for her opening shift at Beanies already, or at least getting ready to head out.

What he didn't expect was to find her next to him, curled up and shivering slightly.

"Em?" he asked, sitting up. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

His lover turned around, her face pale and her eyes barely focusing on him. "Paul, I don't feel good."

She'd never gotten sick before. Hell, after what she told him on their wedding day he thought she couldn't even get sick. She was wearing her blouse, but most of the buttons weren't closed, as if she had tried to get dressed but gave up halfway.

"I already texted Nora," she said, rubbing her eyes. "God, I hate this."

"Can I get you anything? Water, medicine?"

Emma groaned. "About that... though food can fuel my body, human medicine doesn't work."

"What do you need?"

Emma mumbled something.

"What did you say, honey?"

"Gasoline."

Paul nodded, grabbing his suit from their closet. Despite it being summer, he always wore long sleeves to cover the '23' on his arm. He hoped he could get the tattoo removed one day, but until then, covering it would have to do.

"I'll go to the gas station around the corner, do you want anything else?" he asked as he tied his tie.

Emma groaned softly. "Nah, I don't know if I can keep anything down." She coughed, her body shaking.

"Okay, you stay here and try to hang on, I'll be back as soon as I can."

Emma nodded. "Thank you, Paul."

*** *** ***

When Paul came home, Emma was in the kitchen, slumped down in one of the chairs. He carried the three jerrycans filled with gasoline inside. "Geez, Matthews, one would've been enough."

"Well, I didn't know how much you'd need. You've never been sick before, at least not when we lived together."

"Do you drink three jerrycans of cough syrup when you're sick?"

"No, but I figured we could just use the rest for our car." He watched as she poured herself a cup and closed her eyes. When Emma gulped down the gasoline, she looked like almost wished her creators hadn't given her actual taste buds. That shit must be disgusting.

Paul chuckled at her expression. "Does it taste good?" he asked teasingly.

Emma glanced at him. "What does it look like, dumbass?"

"I'll take that as a no." Paul chuckled, taking the cup from her shaking hands. "Get some rest, okay? Is there anything else I can do?"

"We could watch a movie?"

Paul nodded, opening Netflix after he got Emma situated on the couch.

"What do you want to watch?" he asked, turning back to her, but she was asleep already, snoring softly.

He smiled, turning off the TV and sitting down next to her, stroking her hair. She stirred, but didn't wake up.

He would take care of her until the day he died.