#fred's sheila is showing tbh

[faofinn]

9. Home Remedy

@sicktember

Fao hated being ill. He'd picked this up from God knows where, probably big lectures, long days and cold, exhausting rugby training in the rain. Regardless of where this illness had come from, it was horrid. Pounding headache, cold sweats, a cough that Fao couldn't shift. He sounded awful, his voice on its way out too, and he didn't have the energy for much other than staying curled under his duvet sleeping. He'd even missed lectures, which he never did, but he couldn't summon the energy to walk to campus. He could barely summon the energy to get up to make tea. 

He was woken from his doze by his phone ringing on the table beside him. Groaning, he reached for it to see who was calling him. Sheila. She’d been fussing since she’d found out he was ill. 

“Mum?” He rasped, his voice really suffering now. 

“Oh, Fao. You sound dreadful, sweetheart.” Sheila said softly.

“Mm. Feel it too.” He replied.

“Did you have lectures today?”

“Yeah. Didn’t go in.”

“It’s for the best. Do you want us to come up? Fred can get time off.”

“No, no. ‘m ‘kay.”

“Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“I’ll probably go back to uni tomorrow.” He mumbled. “Don’t want you wasting your time.”

"Don't be silly. It's not a waste of time." She sighed. "I wish you were down here."

“I’m fine.”

"You sound it." She winced as he started coughing again. "Why don't you get some rest? Call me later?"

“Yeah. I will. Love you.” He said roughly. 

Sheila hung up after a few more insistences for him to rest up and look after himself. He really sounded awful, and as soon as Fred got in, told him so. Sheila worried about everything and everyone, it was just who she was, but Fred's phonecall to Fao later in the day made him worry.

He made his mind up quickly enough, putting in leave at the University and sending the homework out instead. The trains were simple enough, and he was on his way to Fao's by teatime.

He hailed a taxi from the station, aware Fao would be asleep, and wanting to let him rest as long as he could. Only outside the door did he knock, and, on second thoughts, rang his mobile.

Fao had finally managed to sleep after tossing and turning for hours, when his phone rang. Again. No doubt it was Sheila fussing, Fred having told her he sounded bad. Of course he sounded bad, he was sick. He’d get better with rest. So long as they stopped fucking calling him.  

Rolling over, he saw it was Fred calling, and groaned. 

“Yeah?” He asked, coughing as he rolled back onto his back. “M tryin’ to sleep.”

"Can you come unlock the front door?"

Fao frowned. “Why?”

"Because it's bloody cold out here."

“What?”

"Just come let me in, will you?"

Confused, Fao forced himself out of bed and to the front door, dragging a hand through his hair. He opened the door, frowning at the figure that greeted him on the other side. 

“Fred?”

"Sorry it's so late. It was the first train I could get."

“But? Why are you…? Is everyone okay?”

"Everyone except you." He said. "You sounded so rough on the phone earlier.'

“I’ve got a cold. I’m fine.”

He hummed. "Still, I'm here now. Are you going back to bed?"

“Mm. It’s the middle of the night.” Fao grumbled. “Are you stayin’?”

"Not quite the middle. I can get a hotel room."

“Feels like it.” He said, shivering. “You can stay ‘ere.”

"Come on, back to bed." He murmured, shepherding him through. "You need your rest."

“I was tryin’ to rest.” He protested. 

"I know, I'm sorry."

Fao paused, and then turned to face his adoptive father. He wrapped his arms around him, sighing. “Thank you.”

Fred squeezed him back. "You're welcome, kiddo."

“You gonna stay here?” He asked, his voice muffled.

"Yeah, someone's gotta look after you."

“Mm. ‘m an adult. Can look after myself.” He grumbled, but it held no heat. He finally let go and slunk off to bed, curling up under the duvet again. 

Fred let him go, heading to the kitchen. He figured he might as well get a start on the cooking, so Fao would have something for the next day.

When Fao woke the next morning, he still felt awful. As soon as he sat up he was wracked by a coughing fit that he couldn’t stop, and with a frustrated grumble he managed to force down some water. He wanted a cigarette, but he’d never manage with the way his chest was, and instead he padded into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. 

Determined, Fred had been up a few hours before Fao stirred, finishing off the day's food and packing plenty more for the freezer. He glanced up as Fao walked in, giving him a small smile.

"Morning."

Fao cleared his throat. “Mornin’.” He said, his voice close to a hoarse whisper. 

"Kettle hasn't long boiled."

Fao hummed, reaching for his favourite mug. “Mum send you?” 

"No, she wanted to come up though."

“‘kay.”

"Couldn't get time off with Finn, and you know what he's like."

Fao shrugged, trying to save his voice as he made his tea. 

"I'll make you breakfast, go sit down."

“Not hungry.” He rasped, turning away to cough again, gripping the kitchen counter. 

"You need something."

Fao didn’t have the energy to argue, and he certainly didn’t have the voice to either. Instead he shuffled to the sofa, curling up under a blanket with his tea. 

Fred watched him go, shaking his head. He returned to the stove, and started on Fao's breakfast, some scrambled eggs and orange juice. Once finished, he headed through to the living room, passing Fao's breakfast before sitting next to him - the soup was pretty much finished. 

Fao took it, though he still wasn't really hungry. He picked at it, finishing the orange juice, and then curled into Fred with a sniff and a sigh. 

"Oh, son. You just feel rotten, eh?" He wrapped his arm around Fao. "I've made lunch and tea, and I've frozen a few weeks worth for you, too. Just some soup for today, an old recipe my mum used to make. Meant to fix anything, she said. Hopefully it helps with your cold."

Everyone knew Fred's soup was the best, and Fao hummed happily. “Thank you.” He rasped, his voice cracking. 

"You're welcome, kid. We'll sort you out."

He dozed off against Fred, content and still exhausted. It was easy to feel safe with him around. 

They stayed like that for a while, comfortable and relaxed, until Fao stirred just after lunch time. His voice had completely crapped out on him by then, a scratchy whispery mess, but Fred didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he offered Fao another cup of tea, with honey and lemon, and a steaming bowl of chicken soup.

It was perfect. Warm and filling and so so soothing. It eased Fao’s sore throat, stopped his cough just for a while. Fred’s mum clearly had been right - it could fix everything. Alongside a couple of cold meds, Fao was feeling better by late afternoon, though his voice was still gone. At least his head wasn’t pounding so much, he wasn’t constantly coughing and making his chest sore. He might be a medical student, but there was nothing like a home remedy to make you feel better. 

It was more than just the soup, too. The fact that Fred had travelled up to see him, spend time with him, cooked him a family recipe just to make him feel better. Fao knew he was lucky to have such a good adoptive family, but even then he sometimes doubted his place with them. 

There was no denying that he was part of the family today. 

He curled up back on the sofa with Fred’s arm around him, and the TV on playing some daft old movie that Fred decided was the best film ever made. Fao didn’t mind, it was easy enough to fall asleep to. He was just enjoying feeling loved. 

#sicktember 2022 #sicktember day 9 #whump prompt #whump writing #whump #Home remedy #faolan blackwood #fred daniels #sheila daniels #cold #lost voice #sickfic #coughing #faos insecure about his family as per #fred being a soft shite #fred's sheila is showing tbh #i love this damn family