Work Text:
John groaned weakly, entire body throbbing and aching as he dragged his eyes open and gazed blearily around the room, unsure of where he was or what was happening.
“Oh good. Glad your brain didn’t cook inside your skull.”
John grunted, turning towards the door to see Chas stepping into the room with a tray that he placed on the bedside table.
“Good to see you too, mate,” John muttered.
“Once you’re feeling better, I’m absolutely going to yell at you,” Chas promised as he helped John sit up and passed him a water bottle that John gratefully chugged down.
“Looking forward to it,” John drawled. “Hope you’ll at least have the decency to tell me what I’ve done to deserve it.”
“Oh you know,” Chas drawled. “You were stupid.”
“Lovely.”
“You got sick.” Chas shifted to let John see Zed standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest though she came closer when John spotted her. “Didn’t bother telling Chas and I you were sick, went out on a case where you almost drowned, got thrown into a wall, and then almost hit by a car. So, you got sick.”
“Dunno what you’re on about, luv,” John drawled, because he feels uncomfortable with the worry he can read from both of them and he needs to brush it off by being with an asshole or doing anything he can to make them go away. “I’m fine.,”
He throws off the blanket and swings his legs over the side of the bed, starting to stand, but Zed yells at him and Chas clamps a hand down on his shoulder to hold him in place.
“Don’t you dare,” the psychic warned as she stalked closer. “Your fever peaked at 104 last night, there is absolutely no way you’re leaving this bed.”
“You’re overreacting, luv.”
“104 is bad John,” Chas told him, as though John was a stupid little baby whoj didn’t know that already. “You could have started seizing or worse.”
“Alright daddy ,” John drawled, rolling his eyes even though, yeah, he’s starting to be able to feel that lingering feeling and sure, maybe they have a point, but John gets uncomfortable, maybe even upset, when people take care of him because he hasn’t had anyone to take care of him or even care since he was ten, so he really hates it when people do now.
“Look, I can tell you don’t feel well,” Zed began. “And we all know you don’t like being coddled. But can you just…” she sighed. “Just this once? Please, John, can you just this once let it go? It was really scary to see you that sick. You didn’t know where you were or who we were and…” she sucked in a breath. “And yeah , okay, you said some things I’m sure you’d wish you hadn’t if you could remember. Just...please just let us take care of you.”
John went tense when she said he mentioned things he shouldn’t have and a thousand different sins come to mind before he actually processes the rest of what she said and...and he’s still really uncomfortable with the ida of them caring, still really really hates the idea of being helpless and needing someone to take care of him, but should he really be looking this gift horse in the mouth?
For some reason, Chas and Zed are still here. Not just in the room, but in John’s life. For some reason, they're still friends with him. For some reason he hasn’t gotten them permanently killed or pushed them too far or made them realize that he’s not worth saving.
For some reason, they want to care.
John doesn’t know why and he knows there’s no point in even trying to figure it out because he knows he never will. He doesn’t think the same way they do which means whatever their train of thought is that’s making them stay, he has no hope of catching it.
So he shifts and climbs back into bed, lets Chas tuck him in and tries very hard not to shove his friend away or insist he can do it himself. Tries not to feel too upset or unhappy with being taken care of.
Chas tells him what’s to eat - soup, goody - and orders him to eat as much as he can before he turns and leaves and oh nice, now it’s just John and Zed.
John chooses to eat to avoid conversation but she doesn't leave and while he can admit to himself that he is sort of enjoying her company, part of him doesn’t really want her there, so he swallows his mouthful, clears his throat and says,
“For what it’s worth, luv, I didn’t mean to worry you.” He tries not to scowl on the outside, but that really wasn’t what he’d meant or wanted to say. He tried again. “Didn’t even know it was that bad.”
Again, not what he meant to say but apparently what Zed needed to hear, if the way her shoulders slump is any indicator.
“I know,” she tells him. “Thank you, John.”
“I refuse to promise it won’t happen again,” John tells her firmly because apparently he’s still sick which means he just keeps saying things he didn’t mean, which is just absolutely not fun. “Sometimes the job is more important.”
“I know.” And she does. Zed of all people should know that sometimes there are things in their lives that are far more important than their health.
It’s not good, it’s really not, but it’s just the way their lives work and honestly, at this point in his life, a few months away from thirty-five years old, John isn’t sure if he’d even try to do anything to change it.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” John began after a few moments of talking. “Sod off.”
Zed laughs but agrees and if John is smiling to himself as she goes, then that’s their business.
