Y/n pov
The feeling of clocking out after a long shift and heading home is usually the best part of the day. But today, home wasn’t my destination. I was heading straight to my boyfriend, John B’s, place – the iconic Chateau.
“John B! I’m here!” I called out as I walked into the familiar, slightly chaotic, living space.
“Hey Y/n,” JJ greeted me, his mouth already full of chips.
“Hey J,” I chuckled, watching him. “Where’s John B? And shouldn’t you be at work?” I raised an eyebrow, noticing JJ’s relaxed posture.
He nodded, pausing his chip consumption to point a finger at me. “Yes,” he mumbled around the food. “But I called out sick today. Killer hangover. And your boyfriend,” he gestured vaguely towards the hallway, “is in the bathroom, currently losing his lunch.” He immediately went back to the chips.
Dropping my bag on the table, a wave of concern washed over me, and I quickly headed towards the bathroom. “Babe?” I asked, knocking lightly on the door. I cringed as I heard the unmistakable sound of retching from inside. “I’m coming in,” I announced, gently pushing the door open.
The sight that greeted me was less than ideal. John B was hunched over the toilet, his t-shirt discarded on the sink. I knelt beside him on the cool tile floor, rubbing his back in comforting circles as he finished being sick.
“Hi,” he croaked out, weakly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Hey baby,” I replied, my voice filled with sympathy. “What’s going on?” I asked, genuinely confused. John B had been fine this morning.
He sighed, clutching his stomach. “Woke up, went to work feeling okay, got back to the Chateau and then bam, felt like crap. Now, this.” He leaned heavily against me, seeking support.
I racked my brain, trying to figure out what could have caused this sudden illness. “Is one of the Cameron’s sick?” I asked, thinking of Rafe’s unpredictable temper and possible germs.
“No,” he mumbled softly.
“Okay, what did you eat today?” I pressed, trying to piece together the puzzle.
He paused, thinking for a moment. “Didn’t have breakfast… grabbed a sandwich from that place downtown for lunch,” he shrugged, as if that explained everything.
“Downtown?” I repeated, a little worried. That place wasn’t exactly known for its pristine food safety. “Maybe you got food poisoning?” I suggested, the pieces starting to fall into place. “What else do you feel like? Besides, you know…” I gestured towards the toilet.
“Shivering,” he admitted, “but I’m also burning up. That’s why the shirt came off.” He suddenly lurched forward again, another wave of nausea hitting him.
“That’s it, we’re going to the hospital. This sounds like food poisoning, John B, and we can’t just wait this out at home,” I declared firmly. I waited for him to finish, then helped him clean up a bit, my mind already racing with plans.
“JJ, we’re going to the hospital,” I announced, re-entering the living room where JJ was still engrossed in the TV. “You gonna be okay here?”
“Yeah, why the hospital?” he asked, finally looking up, a flicker of concern in his eyes.
“Think he’s got food poisoning,” I explained, as John B leaned heavily on me, exhaustion etched on his face. “We’ll be back later,” I said, gently guiding John B towards the van.
“Well, you were right. Food poisoning, it is,” the doctor confirmed, his tone calm and professional. We were sitting in a sterile hospital room, John B already tucked into a bed, albeit currently asleep. The doctor, who introduced himself as Dr. Zeller, had just returned with the test results.
“Okay, so what now?” I asked, feeling a knot of worry in my stomach. John B had been waiting for these results for hours, and seeing him so weak was unsettling.
“We’re going to keep him under observation, monitor him overnight. We’ll give him some medication to help with the symptoms, but ultimately, it just needs to run its course. He should start feeling better soon,” Dr. Zeller explained reassuringly.
“Can I… can I stay the night with him?” I asked, my concern for John B outweighing everything else.
“Well,” the doctor hesitated slightly, “does he have any parents we can contact? We do need to inform his guardians.”
“Um, right,” I stammered, caught off guard. The reality of John B’s situation, or lack thereof, suddenly felt very heavy. “Let me… let me make some calls. They’re, uh, always busy, so I’m not sure if they’ll answer.” I offered lamely, trying to deflect from the fact that John B didn’t really have parents to call anymore.
“Alright, well, let one of the nurses know when you get a hold of them,” he said, accepting my flimsy excuse for now, and turned to leave.
Panic started to set in. I needed a plan, and fast. Kiara? No, she’d lecture me about lying. JJ’s dad was definitely out of the question. Pope’s parents… that was a thought. Desperate times, desperate measures. I quickly dialed Pope’s number, praying he’d pick up.
“Hey, Y/n,” Pope answered cheerfully.
“Hey, uh, Pope, I need to ask you something,” I said nervously, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Oh, okay, what’s up? Something wrong?” he asked, his tone shifting to concern.
“John B’s in the hospital. Food poisoning. He’ll be okay, and you guys can visit tomorrow, but… they want to talk to his parents. And I don’t know what to do,” I blurted out, anxiety creeping into my voice.
“And you called me?” he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.
“Well, I was hoping… maybe your parents could just say they’re his parents?” I suggested, the desperation clear in my voice.
There was a pause. “They definitely would not do that,” Pope said slowly. “But… I could maybe pretend to be his older brother or something?” he offered hesitantly.
“Really? Yes! Oh my gosh, yes, please!” Relief washed over me in a wave.
“Okay, okay, listen. Just… keep your phone on you, okay? If they want me to call you, I need you to answer,” I instructed quickly, already formulating a plan.
“Yeah, okay. I’m free all day tomorrow, so I’ll be around,” he confirmed.
“Pope, you’re the best, thank you!” I cheered, a genuine smile finally breaking through my worry.
Just then, John B stirred in the hospital bed, his eyes fluttering open, likely disturbed by my loud voice. “Oh, he’s waking up, gotta go, bye Pope!” I said quickly, hanging up the phone.
“Hi baby,” I whispered, turning my attention to John B. He looked so pale and exhausted. I reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He was still clearly out of it.
“Am I sick?” he mumbled, then coughed weakly.
I handed him the water cup from the bedside table, hoping to rehydrate him a little. “You’ve got food poisoning,” I said softly. I brushed a stray strand of hair from his forehead, my heart aching for him.
“Am I gonna have to stay the night?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded. “Yeah, just for tonight, so they can keep an eye on you,” I reassured him.
“Will you stay with me?” he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his usually carefree eyes.
“Of course, I will,” I chuckled softly, touched by his rare display of softness. “Now, get some rest,” I urged, gently stroking his hair. He nodded slowly, his eyelids already drooping closed again. Soon, his breathing deepened, and he drifted back into sleep.
“Y/n.” A voice startled me. “Miss.” I heard again, slightly louder this time. I jolted awake in the uncomfortable plastic chair, my neck stiff. I blinked, disoriented for a moment, before realizing I was still in John B’s hospital room. He was still asleep, thankfully. The doctor, Dr. Zeller, was standing in front of me, a gentle smile on his face.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, sitting up straighter, trying to shake off the sleepiness.
“It’s alright,” he chuckled. “I’m glad you managed to get some rest, even if it’s not the most comfortable place.” He paused, then continued, “I was just wondering if you managed to get a hold of his parents?”
“Oh, yeah, I did,” I said, quickly grabbing my phone, Pope’s contact already pulled up. “Do you want me to call them now?” I offered, trying to sound as responsible as possible.
“If you don’t mind. Just, since he’s a minor, we need to make sure his parents are aware of his condition and whereabouts,” he explained.
“Oh, completely understand,” I replied, nodding seriously, and pressed the call button. Pope answered almost immediately. “Hi, Mr. Routledge,” I said, trying to deepen my voice slightly, attempting a terrible impression of a worried relative. “The doctors wanted to have a quick word with you, is that alright?” I handed the phone to Dr. Zeller with a reassuring smile, hoping Pope had caught on to the impromptu role-playing.
“Hi, Mr. Routledge, Dr. Zeller here. Just calling to update you on your son’s condition,” the doctor began, taking the phone. I strained to hear Pope’s side of the conversation, but could only catch snippets of Dr. Zeller’s end. “Oh, good, I’m glad to hear that’s convenient for you. Will you be able to come in today…?” He paused, listening. “No, okay, oh no, that’s perfectly fine, I just wanted to make sure you were informed.” He finished the call quickly, exchanged a few more polite goodbyes, and handed my phone back.
“I assume you knew they wouldn’t be able to come up to stay with him?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“Yeah, they mentioned they were tied up with work,” I said, giving a knowing nod, trying to play it cool.
“Alright then. I’ll be back later to check on him. Again, if you need anything at all, just push that button,” he said, pointing to the call button on John B’s bed.
“Okay,” I mumbled, relieved that the parental interrogation was over, and watched him leave the room.
“So, who was playing my dad?” a groggy voice asked. I turned back to the bed to see John B awake and looking much more alert. I let out a small laugh.
“Pope was. Said your dad was currently ‘on the mainland’ and ‘unable to make it back’ at the moment,” I joked, winking at him, going along with Pope’s improvised backstory.
John B chuckled weakly. “Thank you for doing that. Didn’t want DCS on my ass again,” he sighed, a hint of weariness in his voice.
“Hey, don’t worry about that right now, okay? Just focus on getting better. I’ve got everything under control,” I reassured him, giving him a confident smile.
“Thank you, baby,” he murmured, reaching for my hand again.
“You’re welcome,” I smiled, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
