Work Text:
The mound of paperwork scattered across his desk was quickly developing into a headache. Fingers pressed into his temples in a futile attempt to lessen the pain. Convincing the hospital’s purse holders that his experimental procedure was worth the risk seemed like an impossible task most days. Old men that hadn’t touched a scalpel in decades and perpetually adverse to change.
Next to him his phone lit up as it sent gentle vibrations through the desk top.
A welcomed distraction.
Kira closed the folder in front of him and picked up his phone instead. The phone vibrated with a second message before he could get the messenger app open. The red 2 was next to Nagisa’s name.
>>I think I am dying
The second message was an attached image. Nagisa was lying on his stomach, his head mostly buried in his pillow. His face was red and swollen, a listless look in his eyes. He had the hood of his sweatshirt up over his messy hair.
Kira frowned.
<<Proclamations of death shouldn’t be exaggerated
>>I’m not
<<Fever?
>>39
Kira felt his frown deepen.
<<You should rest.
>>Can you come over?
<<Are you asking me to make a house call?
>>Are you going to charge me?
Kira chuckled, at least his sense of humor was intact. He certainly wasn’t going to die.
<<Of course not. I will finish up here and head over.
Kira put his phone in his pocket and picked up the pile of reports, returning them to his locked drawer. Nagisa was lucky Kira didn’t have clinicals today and only came in to work on his proposal. He locked his desk and was out the door in minutes.
*
When he made it to Nagisa’s he was pleasantly surprised to find the door unlocked. He toed off his boots and made his way up the stairs. It was always a little jarring that Nagisa lived alone in such a big home most of the time. It had to be hard on him to not have his parents around. Especially being as sick as he was.
Kira knocked on the bedroom door before entering. He was greeted by a groan as Nagisa rolled over in bed to face him. Kira offered him a sympathetic smile.
“You look like crap.”
“Feel like it, too,” Nagisa said before a raspy coughing fit rattled his frame. Nagisa let out another groan as he curled into a ball. “Everything hurts.”
“You probably have influenza,” Kira surmised, “high fever, respiratory distress, body aches, general rather-be-dead of it all.”
Kira looked at the bedside table to find the thermometer. “When was the last time you checked your temp?”
“A couple hours ago, why?”
Kira picked up the thermometer, poking it against Nagisa’s lip until he opened his mouth, letting the device settle underneath his tongue without protest. Kira watched the digital numbers climb, it hit 38C too quickly; his stomach dipped in worry as he knew it wasn’t going to stop. It read 39.6C and beeped.
“You should go to the hospital,” Kira stated in his matter-of-fact doctor tone. All Nagisa did was shake his head in protest.
“Your fever is getting borderline dangerous. It needs to be addressed.”
“It’s not 40 yet,” Nagisa argued, his arms wrapping tightly around his torso. He was probably freezing.
“I could stick this up your ass if you want a magic number to make you go,” Kira shot back as he poked Nagisa in the forehead with the thermometer.
“You have a horrible bedside manner.”
“Why do you think I’m a surgeon?” Kira asked. He was impressed Nagisa could even meet his dry humor punch for punch feeling as bad as he did. Maybe it was the delirium. “I don’t do feelings.”
“Yes you do.”
“Do what?”
“Feelings.”
“Shut up.”
Nagisa chuckled before another hacking fit shook him.
“No hospital. My doctor is here.”
Kira rolled his eyes, “we have to get your fever down then. Did you take anything to help like a NSAID?”
Nagisa shook his head, “I don’t think I have any.”
Kira pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt his headache return.
“How about a cold bath?”
“I’m already cold,” Nagisa pointed out.
“Not the same,” Kira said as he held out his hand to his friend, “come on.”
Nagisa took his hand without further protest. Despite his argumentative teenage proclivities, he seemed to trust Kira fully. Perhaps it was because of his title, but part of Kira hoped it was more than his medical background that made his friend turn to him in his time of need.
With directions from Nagisa, Kira led the pair down the hall. He shouldn’t have been surprised that the huge, lonely house also had a huge bathroom, too. Space for a separate shower and bathtub. Kira went to the tub to start the water, letting it run cold as possible.
Nagisa wobbled on his feet as Kira reached out to still him. “Dizzy?”
“A little,” Nagisa admitted as he leaned into Kira’s arms. Kira guided him to sit on the edge of the tub. “Thanks.”
Kira made the mental note to make sure Nagisa rehydrated himself as he shut off the water. “Can you manage?”
“Maybe. Probably.” Nagisa sounded exhausted as he went to pull his sweater over his head. He aborted his movements halfway through as his arms fell back down.
Kira knelt down in front of Nagisa, “you faint on me and I’m personally dragging you to the hospital.”
Nagisa shook his head, “‘s not gonna happen. Just tired.”
“OK, I trust you,” Kira said with a squeeze of Nagisa’s knee, “do you want help?”
“Please,” he sounded so small and lost.
Just a kid. All alone.
No one should be alone when they were this sick, and to think Nagisa had been alone until twenty minutes ago. It broke Kira’s heart to see his friend in such a bad way.
“Raise your arms,” Kira instructed, and Nagisa did as he was told. Kira undressed him in a clinical manner. His clothes were sweat soaked, he would need new ones after the bath. He took both of Nagisa’s hands in his, guiding him slowly into the waiting water.
Once submerged Nagisa let his eyes slide shut as a shaky sigh escaped. Kira could have sworn he saw glassy eyes and hidden tears, but he wasn’t going to mention it.
“Is this OK?”
Nagisa nodded, “‘s nice.”
“Good.”
Kira dipped a washcloth in the cool water before setting it on Nagisa’s forehead. He was still burning up.
Nagisa pillowed his arms on the lip of the tub and let his eyes close again. He looked like he could fall asleep like that. At least he wouldn’t slip under in that position.
Kira began to rifle around the bathroom, knowing any parent would have some sort of fever reducer in the home. He eventually found one under the sink. He returned to the tub with the pills and a glass of water.
“Good news, I found some medicine,” Kira said as he offered it to his friend. Nagisa took the pills and returned to his resting perch.
In the silence the pair sat for some time. The only sound Kira could focus on was the even breathing, only to be intermittently interrupted by fits of coughing. Kira allowed the bath to go on for another half an hour, knowing the medicine would kick in after that to do the heavy lifting in reducing the high fever.
“Probably should get out now,” Kira suggested as he grabbed a towel from the shelf. Nagisa made a noncommittal noise. Kira rolled his eyes and reached into the tub, pulling the plug allowing the water to swiftly flow down the drain.
He helped Nagisa dry off before wrapping him in a second, dry towel around him. They returned to Nagisa’s room where Kira found a clean set of pajamas for Nagisa.
Nagisa changed and instead of heading to bed went to the sofa, looking at Kira like he expected him to follow. There was more color in Nagisa’s face now, so Kira acquiesced, and sat down next to his friend on the sofa.
Nagisa had put some sort of movie on, but Kira wasn’t interested. He was too focused on his friend’s health. The strength that Kira knew so well was slowly returning to his friend’s face. Tried and true procedures proving just as effective as ever to treat illness. He certainly wasn’t expecting to spend his entire day taking care of something as common as the flu. Kira chuckled at the thought.
“What?” Nagisa inquired as he shifted on the couch. He threw a pillow against Kira’s lap and laid down next to him.
“It’s nothing,” Kira said, absentmindedly moving the wet bangs out of Nagisa’s face and settling them behind his ear.
It was curious how domestic Nagisa could turn him. A calculation, a diagnosis and treatment. Yet, at the end of the day he was sitting here watching the television like it wasn’t a house call at all.
Just a friend.