Chapter 30

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   Arthur sat up abruptly, inhaling deeply as he threw himself off his bed. He ran down the hall to the bathroom at an alarming speed and promptly vomited into the toilet before he knew what was happening. "f-fuck..." He muttered, his breath catching before he vomited again. Good god, how much had he eaten? He couldn't stop vomiting, the nausea threatening to make him faint.  


 After a while, he heard soft footsteps behind him. Arthur shakily turned his head to find you standing there. You were in your pajamas with a sleepy expression on your face, which quickly turned wide awake and full of concern as you realized the situation. "G-Go back to bed, (y/n). I'm f-" Arthur said before once again vomiting into the toilet. You silently turned around and vanished down the hall, your footsteps growing quieter until nothing was heard. Arthur continued to vomit and swear until his throat burned with every word.


  As he finally began to dry heave, you appeared in the doorway of the small bathroom. In one hand was some assorted pills and in the other was a glass of water. "Y-You don't need to do this..." Arthur stammered out, smiling weakly. You set the medicine and the water on the bathroom counter and checked your phone. "What time do you have to be to work?" You asked quietly. "Nine." Arthur replied as he took the medicine you brought. After he finished the glass, you put a gentle had on his forehead and quickly drew it back before opening the cupboard behind the bathroom mirror. You took out a thermometer and handed it carefully to him. "I swear i'm f-fine, but if you insist..." Arthur muttered, putting the device in his mouth as he flushed the toilet he had heaved in.


  After a few minutes the thermometer beeped loudly. You gently took it from Arthur and examined it, your eyes widening a little. "Are you going to let me go to work?" Arthur frowned. "No. It's 103." You stated. "Shit." Arthur sighed, rubbing his throat with his hand. "It's 7:30, so you should call if you aren't going to work pretty soon." You said. Arthur nodded and shakily stood up, using the wall to support him as he staggered back to his room. You followed and watched him climb back into his bed and reach for his phone before you went downstairs.



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Alfred's phone rang as he got out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist (I'm giving you a great mental picture right now huh) and smiled when he saw it was his brother calling. "Hey Iggs, what's up?" He asked as he put the phone up to his ear. "I can't come into work today..." a voice croaked over the phone. "Woah, why not? Are you okay?" Alfred asked, his concern growing. "I have a fever so (y/n) won't let me come." Arthur said, his weak voice sounding irritated. The American laughed. "(y/n) won't let you? You know she's like a foot shorter than you, right?" He said, leaning against the wall with a smirk on his face.


 "You should be nicer to someone who just spent the last 30 minutes aggressively vomiting, jerk." Arthur said irritably. "Well damn, I wouldn't let you go anywhere either. Anywho, I gotta finish getting ready now, so feel better you dork. I'll tell the boss you're sick." Alfred said, hanging up after Arthur gave an annoyed goodbye.


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  You were pulling some blankets out of the closet when Arthur stumbled down the stairs. As he approached you, you turned around and sternly pointed to the couch. "Get comfy." You ordered, and he smiled, "Yes m'am." as he ambled over and lied down where you pointed. You marched over and draped a soft blanket over him and handed the T.V. remote over. "I'll be right back. You aren't allowed to move unless it's to hurl." You said as you put on your shoes and grabbed your purse. "Wait, where are-" Arthur began, but you were already out the door.


 You jogged down the stairs of the apartment complex, gripping your purse tightly. There was a drug store down the street that you had your sights set on as you ran down the sidewalk. The rushing crowd of people on their way to work was daunting, but you paid no mind as you pushed aside anyone in your way. You needed to get to the store for Arthur. The chilly morning air stung your nose and your sneakers smacked against the pavement past the strangers that had become invisible. For Arthur.


 When you finally reached the automatic glass doors, you speed-walked toward the medicine aisle before you were stopped by a rough voice. "'ey, kid. Bags at the counter." The tall man at the registered stated. You obeyed, taking your wallet out and handing him your purse. Once you had your back to him, you irritably rolled your eyes. That rule sucked. You returned to the medicine aisle and grabbed some Pepto and anti-nausea medicine, then went to the next aisle over and grabbed a few packages of instant ramen and a six pack of Ginger Ale on your way to the register. The man at the counter raised an eyebrow at your purchases. "I 'eard a flu bug was going around." He said as he rang up the items. "Yeah. My dad's sick." You said quietly, opening your wallet. 


  "Shame." He said as he took your cash. The man handed you the bag of items along with your purse. "'Ave a nice day." He said as you walked to the door.


"You too, sir."


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 Arthur was watching the morning news as you walked through the front door, panting from the run back. "Where did you go?" He asked weakly. "The store down the street. We needed more medicine." You said as you set the plastic bag on the counter and took out a can of Ginger Ale, opening it. "Sip this, please." You ordered, handing him the open can. He took it and examined it before sitting up and taking a drink. "Thank you..." Arthur mumbled. You smiled and got another blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders. "Let me know if you get hungry. I got some ramen for you because it's easy to eat."


"that's unhealthy though..."


"You're unhealthy." You shot back as you raced up the stairs.


   Arthur's bed was unmade, with his blankets crumpled up and the pillows at the foot of the bed. You sighed and began the job of removing the cases from the pillows and stripping the sheets and blankets from the bed. Once done, you held the pile of sheets and blankets away from you and returned down the stairs to put them in the washing machine. Arthur looked up from the T.V. as you walked by with his bedding. "You don't have to do that..." He muttered. You ignored his protests.


  After the washer was started, you washed your hands for good measure and grabbed the disinfectant along with a washcloth on your way up the stairs. You began wiping down every surface in the bathroom with the cleaning supplies. Once done, you did all the doorknobs for good measure too. You were wiping the last surface Arthur could have touched when a weak voice came from downstairs. 


"(y-y/n)?" Arthur croaked, "Are there any more blankets? I've got the chills.."


 "Be right there, Dad." You smiled.


Hey guys! I survived my first week of school, and i thought you guys deserved an extra long chapter! Just to clarify, Arthur does indeed have the flu. He might have it for another chapter/day just for good measure, but i really don't know. I do what i want yo. You know i love you guys, and don't forget to comment and vote! Asta la Pasta~





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