Work Text:
The shivers start in his fingers. He can feel them twitch and he has to ball his hand into a fist to make it stop. Joshua doesn’t notice the small gesture and Alec doesn’t worry. He takes the Tryptophan when he gets home and that’s that.
The next time he’s at Logan’s for a briefing on an Eyes Only mission. Balling his hands into fists isn’t enough and then his arms start to shake too. Logan’s oblivious, but Max - damn her superior DNA - notices immediately.
“Seizures?”
Alec shrugs it off nonchalantly.
“Nah, just the shivers.”
Logan trains his eyes on him and Alec can almost feel him trying to read his mind.
“You got enough Tryp?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Not exactly an answer, but it’ll have to do. It’s none of Logan’s business if Alec has the shakes or not and if he has enough pills to get him through. Max looks worried though and Alec knows he can expect a visit later.
He takes the medicine with a shot of whiskey when he comes home and it’s less than ten minutes when the shaking stops. Max drops by about an hour later, tossing a pill bottle at him. It rattles as he catches it.
“This should get you through the next week or so.”
Alec huffs and throws the pills back at her.
“It’s not seizures, Max, just the shivers. I don’t need this.”
Max scoffs.
“Yeah, yeah, just take it, okay? Ungrateful bastard.”
She leaves, but not before dropping the pill bottle on the couch with a meaningful glare at Alec. He rolls his eyes at her, but puts the bottle next to the almost empty one in his bathroom anyway. No need to throw away perfectly good meds.
The third time happens when they’re at Crash. He’s beating Sketchy at pool - again - and he’s bent over the table lining up a shot. It starts in his hands, travels up his arms and settles low in his back. At first he thinks he can ignore it, but then a heavy shock goes through his body like a current and the cue falls from his spasming fingers. He backs away from the pool table as if he’s burned himself and grabs his coat and backpack in the same movement. He can hear Sketchy and Max and Logan calling after him, but he ignores them. He needs to get out of here, now.
The shaking doesn’t let up all the way home. It doesn’t spread out more, but it is enough to make him sweat a little and his stomach knots with nerves. He usually doesn’t get the shakes, certainly not seizures, but he can’t exactly ignore the way he fumbles with his keys and how his whole body feels wobbly and unstable by the time he flops down on his couch. He knows he should be taking the Tryptophan, but he doesn’t have the energy to pull himself off the couch and to his bathroom. Instead, he sits and waits for the trembling and shaking to stop. As soon as they die down, he’ll get up and take the meds.
“Alec? Alec, come on, man, wake up.”
Something stings along his cheek and with a startle he realizes he’s been slapped across the face. He struggles to get his eyes open to glare at whoever dared to interrupt his afternoon nap.
“Logan?”
If Alec didn’t know any better, he’d say Logan looked worried. Maybe even a little scared.
“Why’d you hit me, man?”
Alec pulls himself upright, noticing the cricks in his neck and back from lying on his couch too long.
“What time is it?”
“5am.”
Huh.
He glances at the clock and then back at Logan, who is still looking like Alec might die on him any second. He pastes on his best smile - even he can tell it’s falling short - and pats Logan’s knee patronizingly.
“I’m flattered, but I don’t swing that way, Logan. No more midnight booty calls, okay?”
Logan sighs and for a second an angry frown appears on his face.
“Shut up Alec. I’m here - I had to break down your door by the way - because you stormed out of Crash like something was chasing you and you weren’t picking up your phone or answering your door. We were all worried.”
Alec snorts.
“Right. Everyone.”
Logan snorts right back.
“Never knew you had such low self esteem.”
Alec scowls at Logan and makes a move to get up from the couch. His legs don’t really cooperate though and he stumbles and falls to his knees on the floor. Logan’s hands are on him instantly, holding him up so he doesn’t face-plant into the dirty carpet.
“Hey, careful.”
Alec shrugs Logan off and lets himself fall to the side so he’s sitting on his ass, back against the couch.
“I’m fine.”
“Sure you are. That’s why you can’t get up.”
Alec sighs. He doesn’t have enough patience or energy to deal with this. Sure, he’s not up to his usual, super-human self, but it’s really nothing to worry about. Just because he slept for... 14 hours straight?
Okay, so there might be something not completely okay with him. That doesn’t give Logan the right to break into his house and go all nurse Ratched on him.
“Just go, Logan, okay? Go back to whatever you were doing and let me sit here in peace. I don’t need your help.”
Logan stares at him for what seems like ages, an unreadable expression on his face. Alec comes this close to just admitting defeat and have Logan ply him with Tryp, but he takes strength from the fact he’s not shaking now and convinces himself it’ll stay like that. Finally Logan seems satisfied, or maybe he just gives up, because he leaves without another word, the sounds of his exoskeleton fading with every step.
******
Alec will never admit it, but right now, he wishes Logan had stayed.
He’s not sure what time it is or how long he’s been lying here, but the light outside, filtering in through the blinds, is bright and blinding. At least a few hours then. His entire body is shaking, sweat is dripping along his body and pain shooting through him like lightning. His teeth chatter and he can’t seem to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head. He doesn’t remember when it all took a turn for the worst, but it did and here he is. Miles away from the Tryptophan and all alone.
He manages to lift an arm and grab hold of the couch pillow. A searing hot pain shoots through his arm when he tries to pull himself up a little and he lets himself fall back with a groan. The shaking in his arms gets a little worse from exertion, a numb pain settling in them. The throbbing in his head intensifies and he has to grit his teeth to stop himself from crying out in pain.
He needs the Tryp. Now.
He manages to get his legs under him to lever his upper body up and to the side a little so he can rest one arm on the couch and grab the edge with his other hand. His fingers twitch and cramp, the pain almost too much, but he’s only got one thing on his mind now; get the Tryptophan and make it stop. He claws his way up the couch pillows until he’s sitting upright on his knees; he’s got one hand gripping the couch’s backrest, his upper body half on the couch and his face almost squashed against the armrest, but he’s up. His other hand is blindly searching for purchase, but there’s nothing beside the couch but a small rickety table with an empty glass on it. Both tip over and the glass shatters to the ground when his shaking hand hits them and Alec curses softly. He lets himself slump forward onto the couch and hopes for a quick passing-out. A violent spasm runs through him and he can feel his legs give way under the pressure and pain. His whole world tips sideways slowly, but he’s too weak and exhausted to even try and grab hold of something. He’ll crash backwards, hit his head and bleed out on his living room floor all alone. Stupid seizures.
But then, right as he’s about to tilt over and split his head open on his coffee table, cold, sure hands grip his arms and pull him upright. He can hear a voice - female - but he can’t make out any words through the thundering in his ears. He can feel himself being lifted and moved around and then he’s lying down. The position makes the shakes worse and he convulses violently until the hands are back, pulling him into a sitting position. The voice is still there, still far away and unintelligible, but comforting nonetheless. He’s not alone anymore.
Something cold and wet settles on his forehead and Alec sighs with relief at the cold seeping through. It feels heavenly against his overheated, sweaty skin and he relaxes into the feeling with a soft groan. A second cool, wet cloth is rubbed along his arms and hands before someone’s pulling off his shirt and jeans and running the cloth over the rest of his body. He’d protest about molestation, but it feels too good to complain.
“Relax, Alec, I got you.”
******
Alec drifts in and out of consciousness for what seems like forever and yet only an hour. The seizures are a constant, his body convulsing and shaking uncontrollably, hot zings of pain shooting through his body every now and then. Whenever he’s awake, he wishes to be out cold again.
Another constant in his waking world is the cold washcloth. Sometimes he’s being rubbed down with it, other times a few of them are resting on his limbs and head to cool him down. As soon as he shows signs of waking, a glass of water is pressed against his lips and he swallows the pills and the cool water greedily. His throat is dry and sore, as if he’s been yelling for hours. The cold water feels like heaven.
The next few hours are one long agonizing torture of seizures, cramps, shakes and hot flashes. His entire body throbs with pain and he’s still shaking and sweating and every time he slips back into oblivion, he wants to smile.
******
The first thing he feels when he wakes, are strong arms around him holding him still. He shifts a little and the arms tighten a little.
“Shhh, you’re okay, I got you.”
The words trigger something in his mind and he pries his eyes open. The light in the room is dimmed, but the light still stings his eyes and he moans softly. The arms around him tighten slightly again.
“It’s okay, you’re gonna be fine.”
One arm unwraps from around him and the next second the glass is pressed against his lips again accompanied by pills. He swallows them obediently and gulps down the water as best as he can. The glass is pulled away and the arm returns around his torso. He closes his eyes again and lets himself be held for a few moments, while he checks himself.
He’s still shaking, but it’s more of a shiver than a seizure. His body is clammy with sweat, but it’s not dripping from him anymore. He has a massive headache, but it’s not throbbing or threatening to burst anymore. His body is weak and wobbly, but he manages to lift his head and turn it to see whose shoulder he was resting it on.
“Max?”
Max lets out a sigh that sounds suspiciously like relief and her arms loosen around him. She doesn’t say anything for a long time and Alec wonders what she’s thinking or doing. He’s not strong enough to move himself so he can look at her properly so he tries with words.
“Max? What happened? Is everything okay?”
He guesses it triggers something in Max, because the next minute she’s off the couch - careful to not jostle him too much and make sure he lays down properly before she steps away - and in his face.
“If you ever act this stupid again, I will let you die, you hear me? I brought you a full bottle of pills but you didn’t take any of them! Everyone was worried sick about you and then Logan tells me you kicked him out? Have you lost your mind? I know you’re mister tough guy and you’re “always fine”, but come on man, I’ve had the shakes, I know what it’s like! Do you have any idea what I thought when I found you here? Seizing and almost cracking your skull on the table? Shit Alec, you are one stubborn bastard, you know that! Would it really have killed you to just admit you were having seizures and you needed the Tryp, huh?”
Alec watches her rant and pace the living room in silence. She’s got so many things wrong, but he’s not about to correct her. Not when she’s like this. She wouldn’t listen anyway. He did take the Tryptophan, he did admit he was having seizures - just not out loud. And yeah he kicked Logan out, but Logan has no business being in his business anyway. Instead, he waits for her to come to a halt before smiling at her softly.
“You took care of me.”
Max snorts and looks away.
“Well someone needed to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself too much. Eyes Only needs you.”
Alec grins teasingly.
“Just Eyes Only?”
Max scowls at him.
“Shut up. How are you feeling anyway?”
“Better. The shaking’s almost gone.”
“I gave you two pills every fifteen minutes or so.”
“How long have I been out?”
Max sits down on the edge of the couch and looks at Alec closely.
“Well, Logan called me around 5am to tell me you told him to leave and I went by to check up on you around ten.”
She runs a hand through her hair and Alec realizes she looks guilty.
“If I had come by ten seconds later, you would have hit your head and you could have been dead. Jesus, Alec!”
Alec doesn’t respond to the outburst, he’s trying to add up the hours in his head. 5am to 10 is 5 hours.
“What happened after you got here?”
“You started seizing as soon as I laid you down and I had to call OC to come by and help me get you under control and cooled down. She had to go back to work though, but I’ve been sitting here with you since then.”
Alec glances at the clock. Eleven.
“Am or pm?”
“Pm. You’ve been seizing for 13 hours, you stupid, stubborn ass.”
He figures he’s not heard the last of that for a long, long time.
A silence falls between them and Alec takes the time to study Max. She looks tired and drained, but still angry too. It warms him a little to know Max does really care about him despite her harsh behavior towards him. And she did look after him the entire day.
“Oh Max, you love me.”
Max huffs and gets up. Without looking at him, she pulls on her leather gloves and heads for the door.
“I’m going for a ride. You okay here?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
“Hey, Max?”
He waits for her to turn around and look at him.
“Thank you.”
Her face softens and she smiles a little.
“You’re welcome.”
As she turns around, he can hear her mutter something about “asses” and “stubborn”, but he decides to let it go. After all, deep down she really loves him.