ways_infirmary | (no subject)

(no subject)

In one of the beds near the bathroom door is Guppy looking... well far from great really. A temperature chart he's been doing on himself is on the end of the bed, along with a red sign (Infectious). He looks pale, but is sitting up.
In fact he has a large pile of paper and a couple of books on the bed, which he is going through and making notes on.

Yeah, he really shouldn't be doing that.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sam pokes a ruffled black head round the door.

"Guppy, if you've got that bloody flu and you're working, I'm going to- surprise, surprise."

Guppy looks up, then winces slightly as his head catches up.

"It's a matter of life and death. I don't have time to spend a week in bed doing nothing."

He coughs.

Sam sighs. "Oh well, at least you're not throwing up. Mind giving me a warning if you are going to, please?"

Guppy shoots a brief glance to the bucket.

"Okay. I'm not currently throwing up." he adds, as if that makes it all okay. He coughs.

"How are you?"

"A damn sight better than you, apparently," Sam says drily. "Has anyone ever told you that Milliways does have other doctors and healer-types?"

A hand wave.

"I know that, I work with them. I'm fine, really, look here's my temperature chart and I'm writing down when I've had ivuprofen." Another bout of bad coughing.

"As for my patient, well I promised I'd keep trying, even if I did get sick. She's talking to anyone else she can find and I put an advert up in here days ago."

"...It was a rhetorical question, Guppy."

This is Sam's 'severely sceptical' face.

He sighs. "Well, since clearly nothing I can do or say is going to make you stop overworking, is there anything you want from Bar or whatever?"

"How should I know? I can't even tell normally, let alone when I'm running a temperature above a hundred and one."

Guppy considers. He's not managed to keep anything down in the last twenty four hours.

"I might be able to manage some vegetable soup please, if you wouldn't mind. Preferably a thick one."

Sam merely gives him a Look. The look which says 'if I was entirely convinced you were in your right mind and that you were not incredibly headachy, you would be thwapped with my strike placards right now'.

"Wouldn't be asking if I minded," he informs him simply before disappearing Bar-wards.

Guppy attempts to interpret the Look, and gives up.

He glances down at the book, and at this point suddenly spots something important.

"Oh fucking nematodes on a trapese." he mutters to himself, grabbing a pen and making a note of the vital sentence.

Sam re-enters at this point.

"Language, Guppy," he says reprovingly. The sudden flash of a grin, however, completely ruins his tone.

He looks up, making his head spin again.

"Ow." he moans. Then looks back down at the book. "Sorry, but this is bad. The stupid book says that selyn has a psychic component. How the hell am I supposed to make it now?"

"Ask a psychic?" Sam suggests. "Don't tell me the bar hasn't got anyone who fits the description. What does it mean, a psychic component, anyway?"

"I don't know what it means.... and I can't think of any." he adds with a note of panic.

"All right." Sam thinks about this. "It's for someone in particular, isn't it? Have you tried asking them what it could mean?"

"I only found out fifteen seconds ago Sam."

"Well, don't start panicking yet, then." Sam says dryly. "I can take a note if you want?"

He nods, then again wishes he hadn't.

"Yes please. ~~But could you please millitime it to today, the mun just mentioned a lack of note in a later thread?~~"

He gets a piece of paper and scribbles a quick note.

'Suzi,
A text from a later version of your world says that selyn has a psychic componant. You need to find yourself a magic user. The charmed sisters Prue, Piper, Paige and Phoebe may be able to help, or Asar-Suti. I am stuck in the infirmary with flu.'

He pauses for a moment. This is hard to do.

'Sorry I can't be of more help, but I don't have the knowledge or technology to produce it. There isn't anything else I can do for you. I wish there was.
Good luck.

Guppy.'

"Who do I say it's for?"

Sam takes the note, frowning slightly as he folds it neatly and puts it in his pocket for later.

Then (said really quite mildly, considering, but there's a hint of censure that Guppy forgot), "Well, I suppose I could be classed as a psychic, of sorts. Depending on the definition the book's going on, anyway."

"Suzi... I don't know her last name but I think there's just one."

He sighs and rubs his forehead. "Sam, can you make selyn?"

"I don't know. Seeing as I don't know what it is."

"Exactly."

Another sigh. "I wasn't meaning to offend your abilities, and if you want to put your name on the list go ahead. But you'll have to do it because if I have to make my eyes focus on any more text then consider it your official vomit warning."

Sam shrugs cheerfully. "Nah. Just pointing it out. Don't mind me, 's just my over-inflated sense of importance having a breakout."

You forgot, though. Shit, I sound like a hormonal teenager. But-

"Sides, I'll pass on the vomit." Guppy -at least in his current state- really does not want to know why Sam has such an aversion to the stuff. The mun is not totally sure she wants to know either.

Guppy sighs.

"Sam I have a temperature over a hundred and two, I can't even remember my middle name, let alone your exact capabilites. Test me when I'm able to think okay?"

Sam shrugs. "I said it was all right. Can we drop it, now, please?"

"Okay."

He leans his head back with the faintest of expressions of 'I'm sick, why are you having a go at me?'

Because Guppy wouldn't Drop The Damn Subject quick enough. Not that he really deserved Sam being grumpy over it.

And consequently Sam immediately feels thoroughly guilty.

Quietly, "...Sorry. Didn't mean to snap."

His head feels hot but the rest of him is shivering. Pain like burning through the back of his eyes.

"'s okay." he says softly.

Sam eyes him. "...Are you okay? For a given value of okay, granted."

He can't shake his head right now.

"No, everything hurts."

Oh, Guppy. Now he feels really guilty. But that doesn't matter much right now.

Softly, "Want me to get one of the other doctors?"

A pause.

"Hank's not here. Don't want to infect Kevin. No idea where to find Simon or Janet or the other one... I'll be okay. But thanks."

Curling up. "I can't work any more, my head will burst. Should have stopped ages ago but I didn't want to let her down... Sleep might help."

Sam makes a sudden movement with his arm as if to put a hand on Guppy's shoulder, then thinks better of it.

"You sure?" Voice still soft.

Hesitation.

"Yeah. Thanks."

The hand there would have been quite good right now.

Beat.

Still quietly: "Want me to vanish?"

He's asleep.

Totally. Exhausted.

The books slide off the bed.

Magic catches them before they can hit the floor and risk waking Guppy up. Sam picks them from the air and piles them neatly on the floor at the foot of the bed, where they can be easily found and are unlikely to be stumbled over.

"Idiot," Sam says affectionately, lightly touching Guppy's shoulder as he stands up. He wanders silently out of the Infirmary and back into the bar, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only