Y/n pov
The relief of clocking out from work and heading home is unmatched. Except today, “home” meant John B’s place, the Chateau. “John B, I’m back!” I announced as I walked into the familiar, slightly chaotic house.
“Hey Y/n,” JJ mumbled, face buried in a bag 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 state.
He nodded, pausing his chip consumption to point a greasy finger at me. “Yeah, work. Called out sick. Killer hangover. And your boyfriend?” He gestured vaguely towards the back of the house. “Bathroom. Puking his guts out.” He immediately returned to the chips.
Dropping my bag on the nearest table, concern washed over me. I hurried towards the bathroom. “Babe?” I called, knocking lightly on the door. A retching sound answered, making me wince in sympathy. “Coming in,” I said, pushing the door open.
The scene confirmed JJ’s description. John B was kneeling in front of the toilet, looking miserable. His t-shirt lay discarded by the sink. I knelt beside him, gently rubbing his back as he finished being sick.
“Hi,” he croaked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Hey baby,” I said, my voice full of sympathy. “What’s going on?” I asked, confused. He’d seemed fine this morning.
He sighed heavily, clutching his stomach. “Woke up, felt okay for work. Got back here, bam. Felt like crap. Now, this.” He leaned heavily against me.
I racked my brain, trying to figure out what could have caused this sudden illness. “Anyone at the Cameron’s place sick?” I asked, thinking of potential exposure at his workplace.
“Nope,” he mumbled.
“Okay… what did you eat today?” I pressed. He thought for a moment. “Didn’t have breakfast. Grabbed a sandwich downtown for lunch though,” he shrugged weakly.
“Food poisoning, maybe?” I suggested. “What else feels wrong?”
“Shivering,” he said, his teeth chattering slightly, “but I’m burning up. That’s why the shirt’s off.” He hunched over the toilet again, anticipating another wave of nausea.
“That’s it,” I declared, concern overriding everything else. “We’re going to the hospital. Food poisoning isn’t something to mess with at home.” I helped him up, got him cleaned up as best as possible, and steadied him.
“JJ, we’re heading to the hospital. You gonna be alright here?” I asked, finding him still engrossed in the TV.
“Yeah, hospital? What for?” He looked up, finally noticing John B’s pale face.
“Think it’s food poisoning,” I explained, feeling John B sway against me, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. “We’ll be back later,” I said, guiding John B towards the van.
“Well, you were right. Food poisoning,” the doctor confirmed, his name tag reading Dr. Zeller. We were sitting in a sterile hospital room, John B already asleep in the bed. “So, what now?” I asked, anxious after hours of waiting for test results.
“We’ll keep him under observation overnight, monitor him. Medication to help with the symptoms, but mostly it just needs to run its course. He’ll feel better soon,” Dr. Zeller reassured me.
“Okay, can I stay with him? At least tonight?” I asked, worried about leaving him alone.
“Does he have parents we can contact? We need to inform his guardians,” the doctor said, his tone shifting to a more official note.
“Um, right.” I hesitated, unsure how to navigate this. “Let me make some calls. They’re… always busy. Not sure if they’ll pick up,” I said, trying to downplay the reality of John B’s situation.
“Alright, well, let a nurse know when you get in touch with them,” he said, and left the room, giving me a moment to figure things out. Calling Kiara to pretend to be a parent flashed through my mind, but I immediately dismissed it. Honesty was Kiara’s mantra, and lying definitely wasn’t on her agenda. JJ’s dad? Absolutely not. Pope’s parents? Maybe.
I dialed Pope’s number quickly, my heart pounding slightly. He answered on the second ring. “Hey Y/n,” Pope’s cheerful voice came through the phone.
“Hey uh, Pope, got a favor to ask,” I said nervously.
“Oh? What’s up?” He asked, sensing my unease.
“John B’s in the hospital. Food poisoning. He’s going to be okay, you guys can visit tomorrow, but… the hospital wants to talk to his parents. And… well, you know,” I trailed off, anxiety creeping into my voice.
“And you called me?” He asked, a hint of confusion in his tone.
“Well, I was thinking… maybe your parents could just say they’re his parents?” I said, the hope evident in my voice.
“Definitely not,” Pope said immediately. “But… I could maybe pretend to be his dad or something?” He offered hesitantly.
“Really? Oh my gosh, yes, please!” Relief washed over me in a wave.
“Okay, okay, just… keep your phone on you, alright? If they need to call me, you gotta answer,” he instructed.
“Yeah, okay, definitely. You’re the best, Pope, thank you!” I cheered, a little too loudly. John B stirred in the bed, his eyes fluttering open. “Oh, he’s waking up, gotta go, bye Pope!” I said quickly, hanging up.
“Hi baby,” I whispered, turning my attention to John B. He looked so drained and unwell. I reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He was still so pale and weak. “Am I sick?” he mumbled, then coughed, his throat clearly still irritated.
I handed him his water cup. “Food poisoning,” I said softly. I gently brushed some stray hairs from his forehead. “Gotta stay the night?” he asked, his voice laced with a childlike vulnerability.
I nodded. “Yeah, probably a couple of days.”
“Will you stay with me?” he asked, hope flickering in his tired eyes.
“Of course, I will,” I chuckled softly, his vulnerable side always melting my heart. “Now, get some rest,” I said, gently running my fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes again, and soon his breathing evened out, and he drifted back to sleep.
“Y/n.” A voice startled me. “Miss,” the voice repeated. I jolted awake in the uncomfortable chair. Looking around, John B was still asleep, and Dr. Zeller was standing beside me.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, sitting up straighter.
“It’s alright,” he smiled kindly. “Glad you got some sleep. Not exactly comfortable here, is it?” He chuckled lightly. “Did you manage to get ahold of his parents?” he asked, getting back to the matter at hand.
“Oh, yeah, I did,” I said, grabbing my phone. “Want me to call them now?” I offered, already dialing Pope’s number.
“If you wouldn’t mind. Just protocol, since he’s a minor, we need to ensure his guardians are aware of his condition and whereabouts,” he explained.
“Of course, totally understand,” I said, handing him the phone as Pope answered. “Hi, Mr. Routledge, the doctors wanted to have a quick word, if that’s alright?” I said, trying to sound as official as possible. I saw realization dawn on Pope’s end as he quickly grasped the situation. “Oh, right, okay,” he said quickly.
I gave the phone to Dr. Zeller with a reassuring smile. “Hi Mr. Routledge, just wanted to make sure you’re aware of your son’s condition,” Dr. Zeller began. I couldn’t hear Pope’s responses, but Dr. Zeller’s side of the conversation seemed to be going smoothly. “Oh, good, glad to hear it. Will you be coming in today…?” the doctor asked. “No… okay, oh no, perfectly fine, just wanted to make sure,” he finished with a smile, handing me back the phone after a brief goodbye.
“I assume you knew they wouldn’t be able to come up to stay with him?” he asked, a knowing look in his eyes.
“Yeah, they mentioned it earlier,” I said, nodding.
“Alright then. I’ll check back in later. Anything you need, just push that button,” he said, pointing to the nurse call button by John B’s bed, and left the room.
“So, who was playing my dad?” I heard John B’s voice, now awake and more alert. I turned to him, letting out a small laugh. “Pope was. Said your dad’s ‘on the mainland’ and ‘won’t be able to make it back anytime soon’,” I joked, playing along with Pope’s improvised cover story.
John B chuckled weakly. “Thanks for doing that. Didn’t want DCS on my back again,” he sighed, referencing past troubles.
“Hey, don’t worry about any of that right now, okay? Just focus on getting better. I’ve got everything under control,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile.
“Thank you, baby,” he said, reaching for my hand again.
“You’re welcome,” I smiled, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
