That's What Friends Are For

Alan’s POV
“Alan. You’re drunk.”
“Huh?”
my head hurt and felt as if it were stuffed with cotton, my thoughts and vision blurry, my head too heavy to lift from its place on what I assumed was the floor. Wherever I was lying it was cold and I was grateful for that, but I could do without the nauseating odor in the air around me. Was it the smell or was I actually nauseous? I suppose it was both because I promptly began to throw up onto the cold floor.
“Jesus, Alan, the toilet it is right beside you. You’ve already puked in it; you couldn’t bring yourself to puke there again?”
I Squeezed my eyes shut. Austin’s voice was harsh in tone, but even harsher against my ears intensifying the dull ache in my head and sending a ringing sound echoing through my ear canals and into my brain.
“Aus, shut up.”
His voice softened as he asked “Do you even know where you are?”
“N- no.” I replied as a shiver shook my body and the cold floor didn’t feel so nice anymore.
I felt Austin lift me up off of the floor and into his arms bridal style, the motion jostling me and making me feel worse.
“You fucking idiot.” He mumbled as he carried me out of the bathroom and into a louder area, music playing in the background, the voices of other people grating against my ears. “You’re in a bar miles from your apartment. How did you even get here?”
“Don’ member.” I slurred.
“Of course you don’t.” came Austin’s muttered response.
He carried me a bit further and then pressed his back against the door and pushed it open, carrying me out of the bar and into the cold mid-October night.

Austin’s POV
Once I had carried Alan out to the parking lot and over to my car I let him down so I could open the car door and help him in, but before I could even touch the door handle he fell to his knees on the pavement and produced more puke before lolling backwards against my legs and wrapping his arms around my calves. I just opened the door, scooped my best friend up off the ground and set him on the seat before fastening his seat belt for him.
I ended up just driving Alan to my apartment since it was closer and Alan was too drunk to take care of himself anyway. He shivered occasionally and coughed in his half-conscious state. God only knows why he was so drunk and out this late so far into Autumn. It certainly isn’t party season and it isn’t like Alan to drink until he’s nearly poisoned himself on alcohol.
Once I had parked and carried Alan up the stairs and into my apartment, I gently laid him down on the couch, where he finally passed out. I went to the hall closet and pulled out a blanket and pillow. I lifted his head to stuff the pillow under it and tossed the blanket over him before heading off to bed myself.

Alan’s POV
The dull ache in my head slowly became a migraine as I cracked my eyes open the next morning. The light streaming in through the window was doing nothing to help it either so I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I was asleep in my own bed. But sleep never came, my throbbing headache keeping me awake, and I wasn’t in my own bed.
Where was I anyway?
After preparing myself for the worst I opened my eyes again to take in my surroundings. It hurt to look at anything, but I forced myself to anyway. I was lying on a couch in the living room of a somewhat messy apartment. From where I was I could see into the small kitchen, where my very tall best friend was preparing to cook something on the stove.
So I must be in Austin’s apartment.
“Aus…” I rasped out.
He moved the pan he was using off the stove and onto a pot holder on the countertop and turned around.
“It lives.” He mocked as he made his way into the living room and sat down in an arm chair that was angled toward the couch. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.” I replied with a cough that made my head pound.
“You hungry?” Austin asked.
The thought off food was almost enough to make me retch. “No.” I snapped.
“Gee, sorry, Alan. I just thought a little food would help you get over your hangover.”
“I feel a little worse than hungover.” I admitted sheepishly, burying my face in the pillow and turning to face the back of the couch, feeling guilty about snapping at Austin when he was only trying to help.
It didn’t seem to faze him though. Austin put a hand on my shoulder and pulled me back around so that I was lying on my back, then he laid his palm against my forehead.
“Jesus…” he whispered “you are worse than hungover. You’re burning up. Let me go get some Tylenol, maybe it’ll bring your fever down.” He finished worriedly.
Austin’s always been a worrier. It’s in his nature. He’s the most caring guy I know. He cares about friends, family, even random strangers, so I guess taking care of others just comes naturally to him.

Austin’s POV
“Aus…” Alan’s raspy voice pierced the silence of my apartment.
I was just about to get some eggs out of the fridge to make for a late breakfast, hoping Alan would get through his hangover if he ate something, but now that he’s woken up I needed to go check on him. I moved the hot pan off the stove without ever having cooked anything in it and made my way into the living room.
“It lives.” I mocked as I sat down across from my tired looking best friend. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.” He replied with a cough.
“You hungry?” I asked, thinking Alan would probably just eat and head back to his own apartment to sleep off the headache he surely had.
To my surprise, however, he snapped out a quick “No.”
“Gee, sorry, Alan.” I replied. “I just thought a little food would help you get over your hangover.”
“I feel a little worse than hungover.” He said, then buried his face in the pillow and turned to face the back of the couch.
A little worse than hungover? What could that mean?
I put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him around so he was lying on his back again, then pressed my palm to his forehead. Hot to the touch. It was then that I started to really look at my best friend. His face was flushed, save for his cheeks which were slightly pink. His eyes looking vaguely at me, a little glazed over. He had to be more than hungover to be looking this poorly.
“Jesus… You are more than hungover.” I said, a little shocked. “You’re burning up. Let me go get some Tylenol, maybe it’ll bring your fever down.”
And that’s just what I did. I got up and quickly headed for the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and looked through it for the Tylenol, pushing aside eye drops, nail clippers, old prescriptions, and cotton swabs. I finally found the bottle and took that along with a thermometer into the kitchen, where I took a bottle of water out of the fridge, then headed back to the living room where I dumped the sick supplies on the end table next to the couch.
“Alright, open up.” I said as I took the plastic case off the thermometer and sat back down in the arm chair.
“Austin, I’m not gonna suck your dick.” Alan joked, giggling weakly then coughing.
“My dick is way bigger than this wimpy little thermometer, Ashby. You wouldn’t be able to handle it.” I said with a chuckle, but Alan had moved on from his joking mood and just looked at me with an empty expression.
So now he’s ill and he’s moody. Great.
I brushed some hair out of his face and let him grab the thermometer and stick it in his own mouth. I know how he gets when he’s moody. One minute he’s independent, but the next he can’t do anything by himself, and when he’s ill the moodiness eventually fades into solid codependence, which will ultimately leave me taking care of him. I guess I don’t really mind it though. I care too much about him to just send him home and let him take care of himself.
When the thermometer beeped Alan just handed it to me without even looking at it. “Well, Aus, how sick am I?” he asked. Here comes the codependence.
I looked at the thermometer and frowned. I had seen Alan hungover before and he would sometimes develop a slight fever, but this was no slight fever. This could be potentially serious.
“103. You’re pretty sick.”

Alan’s POV
Austin frowned as he looked at the thermometer, his frown making the wrinkles in his forehead stand out.
“103. You’re pretty sick.” He said.
Then, without warning, he scooped me up off the couch and carried me into his bedroom where he deposited me as gently as he could on his bed. He drew the curtains on the windows so the light wouldn’t worsen my headache and I rasped out a weak “Thanks” before he left the room and returned with the Tylenol he had gone to get earlier and a bottle of water. He sat on the edge of the bed and uncapped the water bottle before setting it on the nightstand. He shook two Tylenol into his hand and handed them to me along with the bottle of water. I swallowed the pills along with a few sips of water.
“Not too much or you’ll make yourself sick.” Austin warned gently.
I handed the bottle back to him and asked “Why did you move me into your bedroom?” I coughed a bit then continued “I was fine on the couch.”
“I just thought you would be more comfortable in a bed instead of on the couch.” He replied as he adjusted the pillows on the bed and helped me lean back into them.
He covered me with just two sheets and then smoothed my sweaty bangs off of my forehead. I’m used to Austin being affectionate with me when I’m ill or upset. He’s my best friend so I welcomed the affection and comfort he offered and leaned into his touch. I had never been very sick around Austin before, just a few rough days from time to time and a few hangovers. I usually didn’t tell him when I was very sick in fear that he would drop by my apartment and smother me with too much comfort, but Austin seemed to be handling the current situation quite professionally with equal amounts of seriousness and comforting affection.
I shivered. “C- can I have another b- blanket?” I asked as I rubbed my hands along my arms. My T-shirt and boxers weren’t doing much to keep me warm.
Austin just gave me a sad look. “No, Alan.” He said. “I know you feel cold, but your fever won’t go down if you keep covered up.”
It made sense, but I was still cold. I just frowned a little and turned onto my side before snuggling into the pillows. I could feel a fit of coughing coming on and reached blindly for the nightstand. I ended up knocking the box of tissues that I was reaching for to the floor. Austin quickly picked it up, pulled a few tissues out, and handed them to me before placing the box back on the nightstand. I coughed into the tissues repeatedly as Austin rubbed soothing circles on my back. After about a minute of coughing I let out a weak moan of pain. My throat and diaphragm ached from the coughing and my head felt heavy. I dropped the tissues to the floor and reached to clutch my aching head.
“You alright Alan?” Austin asked gently.
“I’m okay, I think.” I felt so tired. All the coughing couldn’t have made me so tired could it?
Austin looked at me worriedly and just kept rubbing circles on my back. “Get some rest.” He said softly. And with that I slipped into sleep.

Austin’s POV
“You alright Alan?” I asked, trying to keep my tone as gentle as possible.
“I’m okay, I think.” He replied weakly as he reached up to clutch his head. Alan looked so tired out. He was slowly fading into unconsciousness.
“Get some rest.” I whispered, and before I could say much else Alan was out like a light.
There was nothing to do now, but let him rest so I threw away the tissues on the floor and then went to the kitchen and put away the frying pan from earlier.
When I returned to the bedroom Alan was shivering in his sleep and clutching at the sheets. His cheeks were bright red and his hair was matted to his head. His shirt was soaked through with sweat. Weak coughs and moans escaped his lips. I hurried over and sat on the edge of the bed, and pressed my palm to his forehead. Alan’s fever had gone up. I had to act fast. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a cloth, soaked it in cold water from the sink, and hurried back to Alan’s side. I pressed the cloth to his forehead and he gasped a little in his sleep before leaning into my touch. His eyes slid open and he glanced up at me.
“A- Aus” he coughed out. “F- feel sick.”
I pulled Alan gently out of bed, leaving the cold cloth on the nightstand, and as soon as his feet hit the floor he stumbled toward the bathroom. He retched violently into the toilet, his body heaving painfully. I knelt on the floor beside him, holding his hair out of his face and rubbing soothing circles into his back. Once what was left in his stomach had come back up Alan began to dry heave. He fell over onto his side, heaving and clutching at his stomach and chest. I quickly flushed the toilet, hoping that if Alan couldn’t smell the vomit it would ease his nausea, then knelt on the floor beside him as his body lurched and he spluttered helplessly on the cold tile.
“Don’t fight it.” I said soothingly. “It’ll pass.”
And sure enough Alan’s violent heaves became rough coughs and he rolled onto his back, one hand on his stomach, the other on his chest. As his coughing subsided I reached over to him and smoothed his damp hair off of his forehead, which was still hot. If his temperature was going up then he would have to sweat the fever out. It wouldn’t be fun, but forcing his fever down would be less fun and probably a waste of time.

Alan’s POV
Austin picked me up off the bathroom floor and carried me back to the bed where he helped me take a few sips of water before nestling me into the pillows. “Thanks Aus.” I whispered weakly.
“No problem Alan.” He replied before holding up the thermometer. I felt too weak to grab it from him myself so I just opened my mouth. Austin slid the thermometer under my tongue and we proceeded to wait for it to beep. Once it did Austin took it and looked at the read out. He frowned so deeply the wrinkles in his forehead showed again.
“How high?” I asked.
“104.” Austin sighed. “It looks like you’re going to have to sweat the fever out.”
I knew sweating out my fever would involve lying in my own sweat until my body decided enough was enough and finally reset back to a normal temperature, and when that happened I would probably be sweating buckets. I wasn’t looking forward to the fever dreams or delusions either. I know I’ve made a fool of myself in front of Austin before, but fever dreams are a whole other level of foolishness.
Austin got up and went to the hall closet, returning with extra blankets that he proceeded to cover me with. At first I welcomed it since I was feeling rather cold, but then a wave of heat rolled through my body.
“N- no.” I protested, but Austin just covered me with the last blanket and sat back down on the edge of the bed.
As soon as it was there the heat wave was gone again. A moment later it was back and it went on like this. Heat would roll through my body in waves and as soon as I thought I was starting to cool off it would happen again. Sweat would poor off of me and Austin would hold a cool cloth to my forehead to ease some of the discomfort.
“You should try to sleep.” He said gently.
“C- can’t.” I whimpered. “Too h- hot.”
“Please, Alan, just try.” Austin begged. “You need the rest, and you can’t notice your symptoms if you’re asleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”
I was feeling worn out. Maybe if I just closed my eyes for a little bit I would fall asleep and feel better like Austin said. “Okay.” I whispered and let my eyes fall closed, begging sleep to take me. Soon I began to slip away from the conscious world, hoping I really would feel better when I woke up, but knowing my fever had to break before I would feel better at all.

Austin’s POV
Alan slept fitfully for a few hours. He would toss and turn and whimper, all the while his fever slowly rising until it spiked at 105. He shivered violently and sweat profusely, whimpering all the while.
“A- aus…” He mumbled deliriously. “H- hot.” His eyes opened only to slide closed again.
“I know it’s hot.” I said. “That means your fever is going to break soon.”
“Th- that’s good, r- right?”
“Yes, that’s very good.”
“Very… good…” he repeated, his voice slurred.
He was slipping between brief bouts of consciousness, prolonged spells of delirium, and short stints of fitful sleep, and he was about to become delirious again. He reached out blindly for something that wasn’t there.
“D- do you see th- that girl? Do you s- see ‘er, Aus?”
He slurred and coughed, but he seemed determined to tell me this. Alan’s eyes were only half open, but he seemed to be intently focused on the ceiling. His arms dropped back to the bed from sheer exhaustion, but his gaze remained focused on my empty ceiling.
“I don’t see her. What does she look like?” I asked, figuring I should at least entertain this crazy hallucination of his. He probably wouldn’t remember it anyway.
“She h- has brown hair…” he coughed for what seemed like almost a full minute before continuing. “… and these g- gorgeous eyes… Wh- what are you d- doing on Austin’s ce- ceiling, pretty lady?”
Alan’s eyes slipped closed as sleep took him again, but the delusion wouldn’t release its grasp on his fevered mind. In my opinion the fever dream would be much worse than the hallucination. I had been with Alan on one of his rougher days when he’d called me in need of a friend. I had suggested he take a nap to relieve some stress, but he ended up having the world’s worst nightmare and crying in my lap like a two year old. If a little stress could give him a nightmare like that then there was no telling what this high fever would do to him in his unconscious state.
It started with incoherent mumbling, which I didn’t think was so bad, but it grew into actual words that began to increase in volume.
“N- no!” he coughed out. “Don’t!”
Alan thrashed on the bed, throwing off two blankets in the process. I quickly grabbed them from the floor and threw one back over my best friend and held the other, waiting for the moment I knew would come.
“Nooo!” Alan screeched out a kind of muted shout. His throat was too sore from coughing for him to be very loud, but that outburst would still cost him in soreness later.
As his voice was fading he shot up into a sitting position, reaching blindly in front of him. That was the moment I was waiting for. I took the other blanket and wrapped it around Alan’s shaking shoulders. In his delirious state he tried to fight me off and nearly toppled off of the bed, but he was too weak to shake my hands from his shoulders.
He slumped back into the pillows, the fever dream seeming to have ended. I brushed his sweat soaked hair out of his face, pushing aside strands that were stuck to his cheeks and forehead. He was drenched. His fever was breaking. I pressed my palm to his forehead one last time and was relieved to find that the signs of fever were fading.
Alan’s eyes fluttered open and he looked up at me. “Aus?” he asked. “Is it over?”
“The worst is over.” I assured him. “You’ll be back to your normal body temp in a little while.”
He smiled up at me and coughed weaker than before, his head lolling to the side. I could tell he was tired and he would pass out again any second. I lifted him up out of the bed and carried him to the couch in the living room. When I set him down he had already succumbed to sleep so I just covered him with a blanket and went to change the sheets on the bed so he could sleep more comfortably.

Alan’s POV
Austin scooped me up into his arms and began to carry me back out into the living room. I was too tired to ask why he was taking me there, but I’m pretty sure I was going to end up back on the couch. Unconsciousness overtook me before I could find out, but I accepted it gladly.
When I woke I was back in Austin’s bed tucked into fresh sheets that smelled of generic laundry detergent. It was the best thing I had smelled all day. It was dark outside. The clock on the nightstand read out 11:23pm so I figured I should probably get up and go home before I overstayed my welcome even though I was still feeling a little poorly and, though my coughing had ceased, my throat was still very sore.
I sat up in bed, preparing to swing my legs over the edge, but Austin’s voice cut through the air of the room.
“You don’t have to go.” He said from the doorway. “You can stay the night.”
I really wanted to accept the offer, but Austin had taken care of me all day and he deserved to sleep in his own bed instead of on his couch.
“Nah.” I replied. “It was just a twenty-four hour thing. I’m fine.”
“It was a pretty rough twenty-four hour thing.” Austin said as he came over and sat on the edge of the bed. “And it hasn’t exactly been twenty-four hours yet. Besides, you obviously didn’t drive yourself here last night so you can’t get to your apartment without me driving you.”
Shit. I forgot about that.
“You need a good night’s rest before you do anything.” Austin continued.
“Well at least let me take the couch so you can have your bed back.” I said.
Austin didn’t argue with that. He just put an arm around my shoulders and helped me walk to the living room. My blanket and pillow from that morning were still on the couch so I curled up with my back against the back of the couch and pulled the blanket over me. Austin walked back to his bedroom and I thought he had gone to bed, but he came back a minute later with an extra blanket for me. He tucked the edges of the blanket around me and headed back off toward his bedroom.
“Goodnight my little ginger princess.” He said jokingly.
I laughed a little and replied “Night Aus. Thanks for taking care of me.”
“No problem.” He said. “That’s what friends are for.”