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Thorn was sweating as he sat in his office. Stone had been kind enough to switch patrol rotations with him, so he was in here instead of wandering around the senate. He had felt increasingly worse since he'd woken up yesterday and he was starting to think whatever he had might be more serious than he thought.
“Commander?” someone knocked on his door.
“Door’s open.”
Slip ducked into the room holding a pad. “Sir, I have the medbay report ready for you.”
“Thank you,” Thorn slipped it into his to-be read pile. “How has Hazard been?”
“He isn’t on watch anymore, which is good,” Slip replied. “Everyone has tried to pull him out and about to socialise, but he prefers sticking with me or being by himself right now.”
Thorn hummed. The loss of their entire medical team, save one, was devastating and one of the biggest blows to the Guard in months. They were down to only one medic and all of their requests for more were denied. That was reason why Slip had been transferred to the medbay to learn from Hazard.
“It’s good to hear he’s starting to recover,” Thorn said. “What about you? Has the transition been difficult?”
Slip made a face before he could stop himself. “I have a lot of learning to do but I don't regret it. I think Hazard likes my company, and he needs an ori’vod to be there for him. I just wish that there was another medic or two here to guide him.”
“Me too,” Thorn admitted.
At seven standard, Hazard was younger than a lot of the Guard. There were a handful of other troopers around his age however, and they were likely to get younger shinies as the war went on. Notably, Thire and Hound were eight standard and part of the command staff.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to the medbay,” Thorn shook himself out of his reverie.
Slip nodded. “Sir.” He lingered by the door a moment before turning around. “If you happen to be sick then I’m sure Hazard would want you to stop by.”
“Noted.”
Thorn sat there for a moment. Guess he looked as bad as he felt. No wonder Stone had swapped shifts with him so easily.
-
Fox eyed the chrono impatiently. Thorn was meant to be here ten minutes ago. It was unusual, considering he always warned people if he was behind schedule or had something come up.
“What took you so long?” Fox asked when his office door was opened.
He shut his mouth when Thorn came shuffling in. Stone had given him a heads up about the other commander being sick, but he was expecting a head cold or something not whatever this was. “Force, Thorn. You look terrible.”
Thorn grumbled, looking pale as he sat in the chair Fox had pulled out for him. “I think I picked up a weird stomach bug from the senate again.”
Fox grimaced. “Have you seen a medic – I mean, Hazard.”
“Like you would have?” Thorn replied pointedly.
“We’re talking about you, not me.”
Thorn rolled his eyes. “If he’s not busy at the end of the day then I might.”
“Right,” Fox fiddled with his pad, subtly eyeing the sweat beading on Thorn’s face. “I can do most of the flimsiwork if you want to take a nap.”
The relief on Thorn’s face was telling, even as he put up a token protest. Fox tossed him the lumpy pillow he kept under his desk and told him to shut up.
It was a quiet afternoon. Thorn talked a bit in his sleep and drooled but it didn’t bother Fox. He looked over at Thorn every so often to check on him. He was still sweating, despite the fan in the room turned on high, and his face was drawn in discomfort.
The white noise was good for concentration, and he found himself fully absorbed in the multitudes of forms that needed to be reviewed and signed.
“Fox,” Thorn suddenly croaked from his corner a few hours later.
Fox felt his stomach drop. He looked over to Thorn. “Yeah?”
“I don’t feel so good.”
That was an understatement if he'd ever heard one. Whatever illness Thorn had; it had definitely grown worse judging by the sickly tint to Thorn's skin.
“Medbay?” Fox asked, already getting out of his seat.
“Mhm,” Thorn replied miserably.
He let Fox help him to his feet, gingerly cradling his right side with one hand. Slowly, they shuffled down the hallways at a slow pace.
Slip looked up from another patient as they entered, mouth dropping when he saw Thorn’s face. “Uh- Hazard! Commander, you did not look this bad when I saw you.”
He waved them over to a spare gurney and set to work taking off Thorn’s armour. Fox helped take off the kama when it looked like he was struggling.
“The clips open like this,” Fox showed him. He stood back to make room for the CMO when he appeared.
“Sirs,” Hazard greeted, setting a pad at the end of the bed. “What’s the problem?”
Thorn lay miserably on the gurney. “Fever won’t go away and my stomach hurts.”
Hazard avoided looking at Fox. “How long’s this been going on?”
“A few days?” Thorn said unsurely. “It only got bad today.”
The medic gently pressed on Thorn’s chest, moving down and across his torso. “Tell me when it hurts.”
Thorn yelped when he went lower, hissing a select few curses. “There.”
Hazard’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is it only there?”
“Yeah. Hurts more when you put pressure,” Thorn unclenched his jaw.
From the look on Hazard's face, Fox knew it wasn’t good.
“When did the pain get worse?” Hazard asked. “Slip, can you get me an IV kit and a bag of ABs please.”
“He said it got worse ten minutes ago,” Fox answered for Thorn. “Why?”
Hazard darted a glance at him. “All the symptoms point to appendicitis,” he replied nervously. “I’ll need to get him into surgery quickly.”
“Surgery?” Thorn repeated weakly.
“If your appendix hasn’t burst already, it’s about to,” Hazard told them. He turned to Slip when he was done. “Set the IV up and then prep him for surgery. I’ll get the OR ready.”
Slip nodded. “Okay.”
Fox fiddled with one of his vambraces as Thorn was quickly dressed in one of the flimsy paper gowns and prodded with needles. Plasma would have chased him out by now, but Hazard either didn’t care or wasn’t confident enough to tell him to leave. The new CMO had performed a handful of surgeries now, both under Plasma’s guidance and alone. Fox still worried when Slip wheeled the gurney away, Thorn giving him a small wave goodbye as they passed.
“Commander Thorn will be fine sir,” Slip assured. “Hazard's good at his job."
“Right,” Fox agreed. “Comm me when the surgery’s over.”
“Yessir.”
-
Thorn looked at him with foggy eyes when Fox pulled the curtains open. “Hey.”
“How are you feeling?” Fox asked. Hazard had called him afterwards, sounding tired as he let him know the surgery went well and that he could see Thorn.
Thorn shrugged. “Tired. They gave me some of the good stuff, so I don’t feel like osik yet.”
“Good,” Fox replied.
A comfortable silence settled between them.
“Sorry if I scared you,” Thorn said. “And Stone. I really did think it was one of those stupid stomach bugs again.”
“Stone said he’s going to kick common sense into both of us,” Fox reported. “I was told to tell you that you’re an idiot and I’m also an enabling idiot.”
Thorn snorted softly. “Sounds about right.”
“He said he’ll drop by in the morning at some point.”
“You’re taking advantage of our poor shiny CMO,” Thorn grinned.
Fox shrugged. “Perhaps. Hopefully he’ll toughen up a bit with you in here.”
“You'll regret saying that later,” Thorn shook his head. He petted the empty space next to him. “Want to see if he’ll let us sleep together? Should be fine if you avoid the stitches.”
“Now you’re taking advantage of him,” Fox accused.
Still, he peeled off his armour and carefully climibed onto the gurney.
“You love it,” Thorn replied, yawning at the end of his sentence.
Fox avoided his look. “Go to sleep.”
“Just saying-“
“I will leave Thorn.”
Thorn quietened. “Alright, sheesh.”
Fox was carefully not to press against Thorn too much as he settled. He shut his eyes, breathing in and out evenly. It didn't take long for him to drift off into sleep.