Chapter Text
It had been a long few days. Fred, Morse and Jakes had been run ragged all week.
"My head's bloody killing me," grumbled Fred, as he frowned over the latest wad of papers that Morse had placed on his desk, for him to sign.
"Why don't you go home, Sir? Jakes and I can finish up here," suggested Morse.
"Because, if you've forgotten, you're giving me a lift home... you know, like you always do."
"I could still drive you home now, then come back."
"It's four o'clock, that's only one more hour. I think I can last that long, if you and Jakes can keep your chattering to a minimum."
"Yes, Sir. I'll let him know."
"Thank you," Fred smiled and Morse left his office, closing the door quietly behind him.
Jakes looked up from his desk, as Morse walked over.
"All good?"
"The Inspector's got a headache, so we need to keep our voices down," Morse answered quietly.
"Is he alright?"
"Yes, I think so. I offered to drive him home now, but he said he'd wait."
"So you could get off an hour early?" Jakes chuckled.
"No! I was going to come back."
"I know, I was just teasing," replied Jakes, upon seeing Morse's hurt look.
Five o'clock soon rolled round and Morse stood up and went to Fred's office. He gently knocked on the door, but there was no reply. He couldn't peer in through the windows, as Fred had closed the blinds, to keep the bright lights of the main office out.
Morse slowly opened the door, to see Fred, spark out at his desk, snoring gently. He had his arms crossed on the table in front of him and his head resting on his arms.
Morse frowned. In all the time he'd worked with Fred, this was the first time he'd ever seen his boss fall asleep at work. He really must be feeling rotten.
"Sir." he said quietly, not wanting to startle him.
When there was no response, other than another snore, Morse tried again, this time, putting a hand on the D.I.'s shoulder as he spoke.
"Sir?"
"What? Morse? What's the matter?" asked Fred, with some confusion.
"It's five o'clock, Sir."
"Already? Blimey. I must have dropped off."
"Mmmm. How's your headache?"
"Stubborn. I'll take a couple of tablets when I get home and have a lie down. I'll feel better for that."
"Ok... Shall we go then?" asked Morse, as Fred had made no move to stand up.
"Yes, right. I'll get my hat and coat. You ready, lad?"
"Yes, Sir," replied Morse, holding up the car keys.
Fred followed Morse out to the jag, but he was frowning the whole way.
"Would you like me to drive you to a doctor?" asked Morse.
"Don't be so daft. I'm not wasting a doctor's time, it's just a headache and I'm bloody tired. Nothing a nap won't sort."
Morse frowned as Fred got in the car. He looked pale.
"Stop frowning at me and fussing. I know you mean well, but just concentrate on driving me home, alright?" said Fred, leaning back in his seat.
"Yes, Sir."
Morse drove them both to Fred's house.
"Would you like me to come in with you, Sir?"
"No, I'll be fine. You get on home."
"I thought you said that Mrs Thursday had gone away for a few days, and taken Miss Thursday with her?" asked Morse.
"Yes, that's right. Renee broke her leg last week, slipped off a step ladder of all things. She's been struggling, so Win and Joan have gone up there to help her out for a bit. They're coming back on Sunday evening.
"What about Sam?"
"What about him?"
"Is he at home this evening?"
"Why? I don't need babysitting!"
When Morse just sat there waiting, Fred spoke up again.
"No, Sam's not at home this evening. He's gone away with a friend of his and their family. He's back on Sunday night too."
"So you'll be on your own then?"
"Nothing gets past you does it?"
Morse rolled his eyes, and Fred added,
"...Yes, lad... I'll be on my own and I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, so get going and I'll see you on Monday morning, alright?"
Morse frowned, but answered,
"Yes, Sir."
"Good lad."
Fred got out of the car and walked up the path to his front door. Morse waited and watched. At least wanting to know Fred had got safely into his house. When he reached his front door, he leaned against the frame with his left hand, as he reached into his pocket with his right, to get his house keys out.
He lifted them to the door, but after fumbling for a few seconds, dropped them on the ground. He bent down and retrieved them, before trying again. This time, successfully letting himself into the house. He switched on the hall light, and as he turned to close the door, he caught sight of the jag, still in place, with Morse watching on.
Fred made a 'shooing' gesture to him, encouraging him to leave, before closing the front door and disappearing from view.
Morse sat there for another moment or two, before starting the engine and driving away.
Morse didn't feel comfortable leaving his boss like that. He was clearly feeling ill. Morse wondered what he'd got in the house in the way of medicine. He imagined Mrs Thursday would have a selection of things in, having had to look after a family of four for so long.
He made his way back to the station, parking up the jag and taking the keys into Fred's office, to put them away. As he was leaving, D.S. Staple from the late shift, called out,
"Your D.I. ok, is he?"
"Mmmm, bit of a headache. Why?"
"Oh, he was in the gents, throwing his guts up, earlier."
Morse frowned at his colleague's graphic comment.
"He'll be fine after a good night's sleep."
"Let's hope so. He looked very peaky when I saw him."
Morse nodded to the D.S. before making his way out of the office.
So Fred hadn't just got a headache, he'd been sick as well. He hadn't told Morse that. He must have not wanted him to worry. Well, now he was worried.
Morse knew that he was the world's worst for accepting any kind of help when he was feeling ill, so he could hardly blame Fred for not being totally honest with him as to how he was feeling. That didn't change the fact that Morse wanted to make sure Fred was ok. So he made his way to the bus stop, but not the one towards his flat... the one towards Fred's house. He only had to wait five minutes before it arrived, and he was on his way.
Morse got off the bus and walked the last few hundred yards to the Thursday house. As he walked up the path, he could see the hall light was still on. He rang the bell and waited for a few moments. He'd dropped Fred off, what... about half an hour ago? Maybe he'd already gone to bed?
Morse wasn't sure if he should ring the bell again? He wanted to see Fred, but he didn't want to wake him up, if he was already sleeping.
Morse took a couple of steps back from the front door, while he tried to decide what to do. It was then that the door opened and Fred stood there looking at him, bemused.
"Morse? Has something happened? What are you doing back here? And where's the jag?" he reeled off all his questions in one go.
"Erm, that jag's at the station. I got the bus here, Sir," replied Morse.
Fred began to sway a bit and was gripping the door frame.
"Can I come in, Sir?"
"Well, if you need to. I was just about to go to bed, though."
Morse stepped through the front door, taking Fred gently by the arm and ushering him back into the hall, before closing the door behind him.
"You were sick at work," he said.
Fred frowned at his bagman.
"Something I ate, probably."
"You ate sandwiches."
"Morse, why are you here? To reprimand me for being sick?"
"No! I was worried about you. You're ill and I didn't like the thought of you being ill while you were all alone."
"Says he who always runs straight round here to be looked after the moment he gets a temperature," said Fred, sarcastically with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, I'm not used to being fussed over. I find it hard to deal with," said Morse.
"I know, lad. I'm sorry, I wasn't having a go. I just want to go to sleep."
"Alright. I'll help you up the stairs."
"Morse, stop it. I appreciate you coming round. It's very kind of you. But I'm perfectly capable of climbing my own stairs, and getting into my own bed and falling asleep."
"But what if you wake up feeling really ill in the night?"
"I'll be alright, lad."
Fred went wide eyed then, before putting his hand over his mouth and making a dash for the stairs, clambering up them as fast as he could, in his current state. He lumbered into the bathroom and Morse followed a few steps behind and stood just outside the bathroom door, in time to hear Fred being sick again. He gave his boss a bit of privacy and waited on the landing. He heard the toilet flush, followed by the tap running and the sound of Fred having a drink of water.
When Fred emerged from the bathroom a good two minutes later, he looked at Morse with surprise.
"You still here?" he asked.
"Of course I'm still here. You needn't think I'm leaving you like this!"
Fred raised both eyebrows at that, clearly under the impression that Morse would have taken the opportunity to leave, when Fred made a dash upstairs.
"Sir, I know I'm not very good at accepting help when I'm ill..."
"You don't say," interrupted Fred.
Morse gave him a look, before continuing,
"...but it doesn't mean I mind helping other people who are sick."
"That's very kind of you, lad. But I'm not rightly sure what you can do to help."
"Well, I could make you something to eat."
Fred looked positively pale at the thought of food.
"I'm not sure I could stomach anything right now."
"Alright, let me help you get into bed then."
"You gonna tuck me in and read to me as well?" Fred raised another eyebrow.
"If you want me too," replied Morse, with a smile.
"Lad, I appreciate you caring, I really do, but I can get myself undressed. You go home and put on one of your records, or something."
"I'm not going home."
"Oh?"
"No. I'm staying here. I'll sleep on your settee, if you could tell me where your spare blankets are."
"You're not sleeping on the settee!"
"I'm not leaving you here on your own like this, Sir!"
Fred held his hands up,
"Alright lad... what I meant was, if you're going to insist on staying, then you're not sleeping on the settee. You can sleep in Sam's room. He won't mind."
"Oh. Thank you."
Fred nodded and turned towards his and Win's room. As he did so, a small bout of nausea came over him and he ended up taking a couple of steps sideways, before finding himself being supported by Morse, putting an arm around him and steadying him.
"Thank you. I went a bit giddy then, for a moment."
"I think I should call a doctor to come and check you over."
"Well, stop thinking! I'm going to bed."
Fred shrugged himself out of Morse's arm and managed to walk the last few paces into his bedroom, before closing the door behind him.
Morse let out a sigh. It seemed Fred might just be as stubborn as he was, when it came to being looked after.