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English
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Published:
2015-06-20
Completed:
2015-06-21
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2,746
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2/2
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Snarling Sick

Summary:

Fill for the prompt:
Just anything with sick!Max please!!
Would be great if the wives, Furiosa
and Nux tried to care for him.
Maybe him being a little irritated/ confused /scared by it.
I would be forever grateful!

Max picks up something nasty in the desert but is too embarrassed to let the girls treat him. Leave it to everyone's favorite cuddly toy to save the day.

Notes:

So the disease I gave Max is TB. It's a disease that can go dormant after strong treatment with antibiotics (my mom has it). It's contagious but hard to catch for people with decent immune systems. I just wanted to explain in case anyone is worried about realism?

Busted: sick
Fog: minor illness like flu
Hide-up: hiding spot
Banger: big dude
Deric: homeless person
Bone box: mouth
Sort of semi-based on some real slang, but altered.

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

One of the War Boys is the one that found him.

They're not War Boys in the old way. Furiosa is smart, though, knows she can't take the fight away from them. They'll revolt. So she gives them a new job. Make war to make peace. Scour the emptiness. Raiders and Buzzards, clean them up. And in the meantime war councils on taking Gas Town and the Bullet Farm.

So it's one of the war parties that finds Max, alone and sick, delirious, in the desert.

They'd given him a car and supplies when he'd left. Gone now, probably stolen by the Buzzards. He found a hide-up in a totalled and stripped old car; the War Boys had found him when they'd pulled over to check for anything useful.

They'd recognised him, heard the stories whispered of the bloodbag that'd helped overthrow Immortan Joe.

At the Citadel, laying in a bed, coughing weakly, Max frowns and growls and snarls, keeps his nurses at bay.

"Just a fog, some nasty cold," Dag sniffs from the doorway. She pulls her sleeve down over her hand and chews on the frayed hem. "Big stupid deric runnin' 'round like a dog. Shoulda stayed here."

Capable frowns, bites the inside of her cheek. She's worried. Max won't let anyone close, wholly uncomfortable with care and worried about contagion. He's coughing bad and hard, coughing blood, unable to catch his gasping breath. Once when he'd passed out she'd been able to check his temperature, felt his skin boiling under the dirt and endless sweat. "He's bad sick," she murmurs, thinking. Trying to remember the lessons about diseases Miss Giddy taught them. "We gotta tell Furiosa."

Their chilly imperator, their leader, hides her own worry better than the younger women. She has a head for calm reasoning. She also has Joe's hoard of medical supplies, including antibiotics.

Toast selects the pills, their History Woman in training, but when Capable tries to go in Max's room, he's delirious, shouts himself hoarse. When she goes near him, he struggles to get out of bed, and she flees angrily.

Everyone refuses to go in after that.

Except Nux.

Their pet, their cuddly toy, their precious boy. And Furiosa's personally chosen driver. Trainer of future drivers. Talented behind the wheel and under the hood, a true black thumb. But, to his mates, the wives, he's their baby boy.

Nux, all lanky limbs and goofy grin, shoves the bags of pills into his pockets and peeks into the room.

Max is panting, shivering, half asleep. Hopefully a little calmer.

Closing the door whisper quiet behind him, barefoot, Nux sneaks up to the bed. The covered pitcher of water by his bed is old, but at least it's still clean. He keeps refusing food, no appetite.

Groggy, Max slowly shakes his head back and forth on the pillow, jaw slack as he struggles for air. Realising what woke him up, he turns bleary eyes on the former War Boy and snarls like a feral dog.

"Stop," Nux whispers. A little worried about biting, but he still reaches out and puts his cool palm across the filthy man's forehead.

Max blinks rapidly, confused. "Capable? Dag?" he rasps.

"Just me."

Max fusses a little more but quiets, sinking back down. Nux has to hide his smile by turning away, now that he realises Max is painful shy around the girls.

Abruptly the man surges up into a sitting position, coughing bad. Blood spatters his arm as he tries to cover his mouth. Surprised despite being warned of this symptom, Nux whines and rushes closer, grabbing the corner of his own shirt to wipe at the man's mouth.

Max glares at him and weakly pushes him away. "Contagious," he growls. "Caught it from a Buzzard."

Nux hesitates but just shrugs. "You just take care of me when you're better then." Without thinking, he runs his bony fingers through Max's hair, trying to soothe him. Max stiffens, glowering, but after a minute his eyes drift half shut from the comfort of it. "Lay back," Nux says, quiet, and Max actually listens.

Once he's settled back into his bed, panting but quiet, Nux pulls the pills out and sets them by the water.

"Thirsty?"

"No."

Nux sucks his bottom lip, at a loss. He's never cared for the busted before, doesn't know what to do. And his patient isn't exactly cooperative.

"Okay, well you gotta take these meds." He takes one of each pill out, sets them down on the small table. "Can you keep 'em down?"

Max squirms until he's seated more upright, wheezing with the effort. When Nux hands him the pills, though, they slip through his weak fingers and Nux had to scramble on the floor to find them. When he stands, Max is grinding his teeth in anger.

"Just... Just open up," Nux whispers. Max's odd shyness is contagious. Closing his eyes tight as if it'll help bear the humiliation, Max opens his mouth. One by one Nux places the pills on his tongue, blushing. He grabs the pitcher and presses the edge to the man's bottom lip. "Into the bone box."

Max opens his eyes and stares dog mad at Nux as he drinks. He's thirsty, keeps swallowing, an endless dry well, and Nux feels his blush spreading.

Finally Max pulls his head back, signalling he's done and wants to lay down again.

Nux licks his lips, looks around the bare room. "What do you need? What can I do?"

This time it's Max's turn to burn red, embarrassed. He wants something but doesn't want to ask.

Nux puts a knee on the bed to be closer, leaning down over the man, feeling the heat of his fever radiate off of him. He bends at the waist, bringing himself closer still so Max can whisper what he needs.

"Mm," Max grunts, his eyes sliding away to stare at the wall. "I can't walk, too weak... Bathroom..."

"Oh!" Nux smiles, relieved. Easy peasy, he's helped drunk or hurt War Boys to piss before. He hunkers down and burrows under Max's arm, ignoring the stink of sweat, wrapping his own arms around the banger's chest. "Okay, Maxy, no worries."

At the nickname, Max hisses through his teeth, but he keeps quiet otherwise.

Together, Max weakly pushing as Nux hoists him up, they get him on his feet, leaning almost his entire weight on the boy. They shuffle awkwardly towards the makeshift chamber pot in the corner on a low stool.

Fumbling, Max manages to yank his loose pants down and pull himself out, but he starts coughing again and Nux has to brace himself to hold him up. When it subsides, Max gags and spits out a bloody gob into the chamber pot, turning Nux's stomach a little.

Nux looks away when Max takes himself in hand, eyes widening and heart revving when he hears the piss hit the pot. Somehow this is a lot more embarrassing than ever before with anyone else.

Together they stumble to the bed and Nux helps Max tuck his legs up onto the mattress and under the blanket. Without thinking, feeling paternal, familial, warm from caring for his friend, he pushes Max until he scoots over so he can lay out next to him.

Thankfully, Max is too tired and weak to protest much beyond his usual guttural growls.

Nux is taller and, wrapping a leg around the other's leg, tucks a foot up under Max's so it's resting on his. Propping his head up on his arm, Nux is comfortable and content.

The nasty bastard look in Max's eyes suggests he's not, but the way his body practically melts suggests otherwise. He's tired, in pain, and despite himself it feels good to be cared for.

Quiet, Nux hums a song he barely remembers from babyhood, back when he had a mum. He doesn't remember much, but he patches it together as best he can. "Roll over," he murmurs when he runs out of song.

Now Max is without complaint, he simply does as he's told. It gives Nux a feeling of victory.

When Max is laying on his stomach comfortably, Nux pulls the man's shirt up and starts rubbing his burning fevered back. Slow airy strokes in lazy circles, raising goosebumps in their wake.

He starts humming again, and Max presses a little closer against him.

When Capable finally opens the door, curiosity driving her mad, she sees the two curled up together like kittens, and is relieved when she notices how much easier Max seems to be breathing.

She sneaks out, closing the door silently, and stands guard.

Chapter 2

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The antibiotics are doing their job, Max is clearly improving, but he still refuses to have anyone come near him other than Nux. The man is bad shy when he feels weak.

About a week into the treatment, Nux is bringing Max his dinner to his bed when he's stopped by Dag.

"Your doggy reeks!" she hisses at him. "You're box clever, figure out how to make him stop stinkin' the hall up. You get your feral out of the room, I'll get a War Boy to clean it up while he's gone."

Something to consider. As he nears the room, sure enough it smells like a sickroom, all foulness and sweat and piss and sickness. Probably not a healthy miasma for his grouchy patient to be resting in.

As Max eats, a slow and tedious process as he constantly has to stop to gasp for air, his body still weak enough that he can't use utensils, Nux sits and thinks.

A couple of floors up there's a big clean-up room with sunken spots in the floor to pool water up for baths. It was Immortan Joe and his sons' but they're dead and rotten now. No one uses it, the women are repulsed by it even after it was scoured. And no one else is allowed this high up in the Citadel after a couple of attempts on Furiosa's life.

He makes plans with his mates.

Capable will clear the hallways, staying far ahead so Max doesn't know. If he sees anyone while being helped to the baths he might refuse to go. While he's gone, Dag will send a couple of War Boys to strip the sheets and scour the room. Cheedo promises to stock it with soap and fill a bath with hot hot water. As grumpy nasty as Max can be, they still love him and want to help.

Breaking the news to Max is deceptively simple.

"You stink, Maxy."

The nicknames grates on Max's nerves but he can't bring himself to say anything about it. He doesn't even complain about the bath idea, he can smell himself just fine.

Nux helps him get to his feet with plenty of breaks for just breathing. Together, Max leaning heavily on the boy, they stumble their way down the hall to the stairs.

Only two flights of stairs but they're hard. By the end Max is coughing blood up and has to sit down. Nux just rubs his back and sits with him, patient.

The washing up room is huge, palatial, with a large opening overlooking the desert. They're high up, near to the top, and the view is dizzying.

Sure enough, one indent is filled to the brim with steaming hot water, and different soaps and fluffy puffy towels ring it.

Max scowls at the set up, at the luxury of it, but can't deny he's looking forward to it.

He leans against the wall for Nux to undress him, too exhausted to do it himself.

A little nervous, Nux tugs the hem of Max's shirt up, pulling it over the banger's head. His thick hair ends up dishevelled, sticking up worse than usual, and it's surprisingly charming. Nux's cheeks flush and he ducks his head to hide it. He tucks his fingers into the waistband of Max's pants but stops, the blush spreading until it feels like his ears are on fire. He yanks the pants down and stands, turning away. But not before getting a glimpse of Max's equally red face.

"Let's get you cooking," Nux announces with false merriment, grabbing Max's arm and slinging it over his shoulders. After this little awkward break, Max is a little stronger, doesn't lean so heavily on the War Boy.

He steps into the water and winces at the heat, baring his teeth. After a minute he's able to get in further, but has to wait again. After an eternity of Nux struggling to help Max lower into the water without losing his balance, the man is finally laying back, fully submerged.

Nux crouches by the side of the bath, studying Max's face. He has his head resting on the edge, eyes closed. Relaxing. Perfect opportunity to take a better look. He's definitely worse for wear, new scars, new worry lines. Tanned like a nut.

Handsome still.

Nux bites his lip and ignores that thought. Instead, he rolls up the legs of his pants then dunks his hands to get them wet, startling Max back to wakefulness; he then grabs a bar of soap and lathers his hands up.

"Gonna wash your hair," Nux explains. He gets behind Max and dips his legs into the water on either side of Max, resting them on his shoulders and chest. Max grumbles but lets it be.

Nux works his hands through the wet oily hair. The soap doesn't lather, in fact seems to deflate, and he knows he's going to have to wash the hair a couple more times.

"Rinse," Nux murmurs, and Max is able to slide down enough for Nux to cup water in his hands to pour over his hair.

This time Nux uses the soap directly, rubbing it over Max's head before he tries to work his fingers through it. It's already a lot better. As he washes, Max leans back into the touch, his struggles to breathe less pronounced.

They rinse again, and once more Nux applies soap. This time he gets lots of nice big bubbles and the hair actually feels clean. Rinse again, and now Max is puffing a little. He leans his head back and rests it on Nux's thigh without thinking, soaking his pant leg.

Nux is shocked into stillness.

After a while, he starts to feel groggy. The room is warm and quiet and smells so nice, steam everywhere. He shifts subtly until he's able to lay back, a towel as a pillow as he dozes.

When he finally stirs, the steam has abated some but it's still roasty toasty in here. He yawns, stretches a little, feels a hand on his leg. He'd forgotten about Max.

"Get in," Max murmurs.

Nux's eyebrows shoot up and he licks his lips. "Not much room...?"

"I can smell you now that I don't stink," Max grumbles. "You're just as bad."

The water does feel so nice on his legs...

Standing, Nux shucks his pants then realises he'll have to get into the big tub, fully naked, in front of the other man. Taking a breath, Nux steels himself, straightens his back, before walking around and stepping in.

Thankfully, Max has closed his eyes again.

The water isn't too hot anymore, so Nux is able to sink in right away. His legs brush and end up tangling with Max's, but neither bother to move.

Grabbing soap, Nux furiously scrubs himself, enjoying the luxury of a bath. An exotic pleasure for a War Boy.

Once he's cleaned and the soap washed away, he leans back the way Max did, resting his head on another towel, utterly content.

It's Max that wakes him up once again.

"We should go, water's cooling."

Evening is falling and Nux realises as he scrubs the sleep from his eyes that he's starving. Without putting too much thought into it, he hoists himself out of the water and quickly wraps a towel around his waist even before trying to dry off. He'd never been this modest before, but apparently modesty can rub off from others.

Nux helps drag Max out of the water and ruffles his hair with a towel as he dries himself off. Thankfully there's two pairs of clothes and Nux marvels at Cheedo, wondering how she could have known he'd need some.

Warm, loose-limbed, tired, they make their way back to the thoroughly cleaned room for a drowsy dinner and another nap.

Notes:

The ladies all totally know where this all will lead and secretly ship it.