Rat Race

Part 4

Ant spent most of the next couple of hours Googling Dec's symptoms and asking various medical sites why someone would get sick twice in such a short period of time. Like most medical things searched up online, the results were either that it was probably nothing, just coincidence or being rundown, or that it was so serious and unpronounceable that Dec was probably going to expire any second. There was no middle ground, and as nagging as the worry in Ant's belly was, he certainly didn't look like he was about to die. In fact, he was sleeping soundly, breathing deep and even. He didn't flinch when Ant laid a hand on his forehead to gauge his temperature - definitely warming up, but not to egg-frying standards.

Realising that he hadn't finished his soup, thanks to Dec's impromptu vomiting session, and that it was now getting on into the night, Ant decided that it was safe to go to the kitchen to rustle something up to alleviate his growing peckishness. He left Dec curled up under the duvet and headed for the fridge, opting for a some simple pasta and sauce to fill the hole.

He was gone from the guest room - Dec's room, really, they called it - for no more than half an hour, just enough time to cook his dinner, eat it, message Lisa briefly to let her know Dec was staying over again, and then load the dishwasher.

When he went back to Dec's room, all was not as peaceful as he'd left it. The covers were flung back from the bed, and the water on the bedside table had been knocked over in Dec's haste to get to the en-suite, leaving a damp patch on the carpet. There were no sounds from the shower room, but it was fairly obvious that was where Dec had fled to, and Ant wasted no time in entering the dark room after him, concerned for his friend. He found Dec huddled next to the toilet, shivering violently enough that even without any light he could see the tremors from the doorway, the smaller man looking pale and sweaty. The sour smell of sick wafted through the air and Ant was glad that he'd always had a strong, unsympathetic stomach himself, as he knelt down next to his friend and reached out to cup his cheek. "Oh, Declan," he murmured quietly, smiling sadly at the stricken man.

Dec looked at him with dull, glassy eyes. "Ant?" He sounded very shaky and weak, sparking even more concern in Ant's stomach. 

"Yeah, mate, I'm here. Not feeling too clever, are we?"

Dec frowned. "Threw up," he said unhappily, pointing at the toilet with trembling fingers.

"Yeah, I see that," Ant replied, shifting his hand up Dec's cheek to rest the backs of his fingers on his brow. "Woah," he commented. "You are burning up."

Dec's temperature had clearly soared in the thirty minutes he'd been away, the dry heat of his skin almost unbelievable. No wonder he was shivering so violently, even in perfectly warm layers. "Cold," Dec complained.

"Yeah, son, I bet you are. Come on, let's get you a bit more comfortable." Ant reached down to help Dec stand, wrapping an arm around his back to support him and rising slowly to try and prevent any dizziness. Dec seemed in no danger of passing out, but he did lean against him heavily, his body a furnace against Ant's torso. 

He guided him back towards the bed and sat him down on the edge of it, nabbing the wastepaper bin just in case Dec needed a receptacle at short notice. He grabbed the duvet and wrapped it around Dec's shoulders to try and alleviate the shivering, knowing that Dec was already hot but unable to watch him suffer the chills with his teeth chattering so badly. 

The room was only lit by the bedside lamps, and Ant moved to turn the room light on so that he could evaluate Dec more easily. As soon as he flicked the switch, however, Dec let out a pained yelp, his hands clutching the sides of his head as he clenched his eyes shut.

"Woah, woah, easy!" Ant cried out, immediately turning the light back off and heading over to kneel in front of Dec, reaching out to pull his hands down. "Dec, it's okay, it's off, you can open your eyes."