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Chapter Text

Upon weaseling his way into Charlie’s group of friends, film nights had quickly become one of Nick’s favorite activities. He had always loved a good movie and had to admit, Tao’s commentary on the cinematography and technical aspects of the films he picked out for the group to view was entertaining. Nick almost felt like he was learning a thing or two– like the fact that they had to sit and watch the entire end credits sequence of the films they watched. “You have to give your respect to the people who made the film, man,” Tao had explained, and everyone else in the room just rolled their eyes, having already accepted Tao’s movie snobbery.

That particular night they were all hanging out in Tao’s room with the movie I Lost My Body playing up on the tv. Darcy was laughing at something on the screen. Elle was tossing popcorn into Issac’s mouth. And Tao was aggressively trying to get Tara to pay attention to the movie (she had been busy painting her toenails). Nick smiled fondly at all of them. He really did enjoy being a part of their little group.

Nick turned his head to look at Charlie. They were squished together on a twin mattress on Tao’s floor, pillows propping them up. Nick expected to see Charlie looking just as content as the rest of their friends. They had had a relatively good week at school after all, and now it was time for the weekend. No reason for any distress. Except that Charlie did look quite distressed. His brow was furrowed and he was slightly hunched over, with his arms wrapped around his stomach as if it were hurting. Now, a stomach ache wasn’t that uncommon for Charlie, unfortunately. They were usually brought on by stress, especially the stress of eating. Tao had ordered a pizza not too long ago, so maybe tonight Charlie was just feeling extra anxious about that. Pizza was usually a safe food but Nick never knew what to expect sometimes.

“You okay?” he whispered to Charlie, moving to wrap an arm around the younger boy. Charlie was still for a moment before he gave a nod. He shifted and was soon leaning against Nick, head laying on the rugby captain’s shoulder. Nick smiled at first, happy to cuddle Charlie. However, he quickly noticed that the other boy felt quite a bit warmer than usual. Seeing as Charlie was constantly complaining of being cold, that worried Nick. Pursing his lips, Nick reached out with his free arm and placed the back of his hand on Charlie’s forehead, then his cheek.

“Everything okay there?” Tara asked, noticing Nick checking Charlie’s temperature. She leaned over from her spot on the floor and examined Charlie. “He looks poorly.”

“I’m okay- just tired,” Charlie attempted to protest.

“No, you feel feverish, Char,” Nick said with a frown. He removed his hand from Charlie’s cheek and began to rub Charlie’s back comfortingly instead.

Before Charlie could react, both Tao and Elle, (and Darcy shortly after) were also reaching over to feel his forehead. Nick would have laughed because it was quite the scene. Charlie batted away his doting friend’s hands, unamused by their fussing.

“Want me to get my mum?” Tao asked, to which Charlie shook his head.

“No…I think I’ll go home early. Maybe I just need some rest,” Charlie said.

“Aren’t your parents out of town? Will you be alright?” Elle asked. Nick frowned at that, not fond of the idea of his boyfriend being ill and not having his parents there to take care of him.

“Tori is home. And anyway, it’s only a little fever. I just need sleep.” Charlie smiled at his friends, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The curly-haired boy moved to stand, and Nick quickly got up with him.

“I’m walking you home,” he said, not giving Charlie any room for argument. “Tao, let me know how the film ends. We’ll see you all later!” Nick smiled as everyone said their goodbyes, then slipped his hand into Charlie’s and walked downstairs with him. Once they were outside, Nick gave Charlie another once over and frowned. “Are you sure you’re alright? You keep wincing- is your stomach hurting that bad?”

Charlie was quiet for a bit, before he mumbled, “No. It’s getting better now that I’m moving. I think I was just cramped up.”

“Okay…well let’s get you home and to bed. I’m sure that once you get some sleep you’ll be right as rain.”

The walk to Charlie’s house was slow and silent, which was a testament to how crummy Charlie was feeling. Nick dropped Charlie off at the front door, handing the feverish teen off to Tori. Nick had offered to stay, wanting to comfort Charlie, but Tori said it wasn’t necessary. She pointed out that it wouldn’t do them any good if he got ill as well from being near Charlie while he was likely contagious. So, Nick went home, showered, hung out with his mum, and then went to bed.

Nick texted Charlie throughout Saturday. His poor boyfriend definitely had a stomach bug because he had apparently begun throwing up that morning, and his fever had gone up as well. Charlie insisted Nick not come over though, saying he’d hate to get him ill and that Tori had been taking great care of him. Charlie’s texts slowed down later in the afternoon, but Nick figured he was just sleeping or not feeling well enough to be on his phone. Charlie sent a text around seven saying he was fine but had been throwing up again. Nick sent Charlie some pictures of Nellie to cheer him up. He sent a few more well wishes, and a text saying goodnight but never got one in response. It didn’t worry him though.

What did worry Nick, was getting a call from Tori Spring of all people at 3:32 in the morning. Bleary-eyed, Nick answered his phone and held it to his ear. “What..? Tori?” he asked, still half asleep.

“Nick. I need your help.” That woke Nick up right away.

“What’s wrong? Did Charlie hurt himself?” Sadly, that was where his mind first went. It was where everyone’s minds first went when it came to Charlie, really.

“No- I- he’s so ill. I don’t know what to do,” she said, sounding upset. That was unusual for Tori; she seldom showed emotions, unlike Charlie who wore his heart on his sleeve.

Nick sat up, much more alert. He turned on his bedside lamp and began to scramble around for some clothes. “What’s wrong with him? What can I do?” He didn’t really know what he could do, honestly. Tori was more equipped to take care of Charlie–she had been doing it her whole life. That was why he hadn’t felt guilty for leaving Charlie in the first place.

“He won’t stop throwing up. He can't keep water down. And his fever won’t go down, it’s getting worse. I keep calling our parents but they aren’t picking up the stupid phone,” she said, while the sound of vomiting could be heard from poor Charlie in the background. There was some rustling around and static on the phone before Tori was back. “Sorry- shit, he’s so weak he can hardly sit himself up right now.”

“Let me wake up my mum- she’ll know what to do,” Nick said, now fully dressed and rushing down the hall to his mother’s room. He burst inside without knocking and shook her awake.

“Mum-” he said, pulling his phone away from his ear and holding it to his chest. “Charlie- he’s really ill. Tori said he won’t stop throwing up and his fever is high- she- we don’t know what to do because their parents are out of town-” he explained, voice rushed. Sarah was fully awake by now, worried by what she had just heard.

“Okay, deep breath sweetie. Is that Tori on the phone?” Sarah asked, gesturing to Nick’s phone. “May I speak to her?” Nick wasted no time handing over his phone.

“Yes that is quite high….has he kept anything down?...can he walk?” Nick listened anxiously as his mum spoke, trying to figure out what was going on. “Okay, get him bundled up and keep him awake until we get there. Should be about fifteen minutes.”
Nick looked at his mum. “We’re going to Charlie’s?” he asked, already standing up. His mum nodded, going over to her closet to grab a cardigan to throw over her sweats and t-shirt.

“He sounds really ill, hon, we’re going to go and help get him to A&E,” Sarah responded. That made Nick feel a little nervous; it had to be bad if Charlie needed the hospital.

He followed his mum downstairs and out to the car but remained quiet for most of the ride to Charlie’s house. He was too tense to talk. Once they pulled into the Spring’s driveway, Nick was darting out of the car within seconds. He needed to see Charlie and make sure he was okay. Luckily, Nick knew the garage code and was able to get him and his mum in quickly.

Upstairs, Tori had gotten her brother dressed as best as she could. His shoes were tied and she had wrestled one of Nick’s hoodies over Charlie’s head. But he was still too weak and nauseous and hurting to move from his spot on the bathroom floor, so Tori had opted to stay there with him until Nick and Sarah arrived. She was incredibly grateful when she heard the door slam open downstairs followed by Nick’s loud footsteps (and Sarah’s quieter ones). Nick was soon standing in the bathroom doorway.

“How is he?” Nick asked, immediately crouching down to look at Charlie. He reached out and rested his hand on Charlie’s cheek, frowning at the heat. Sarah stepped into the doorway of the bathroom as well, observing the scene before her. Charlie truly looked awful, pale with red splotches high on his cheeks. He was curled up and clutching his stomach, slumped against his sister for support. “Oh, love. You look terrible.” Nick cooed over his boyfriend and rubbed Charlie’s arm in sympathy. Charlie barely gave Nick a response.

Sarah took another step into the room. “Nick- I think it’s best you carry him down to the car. We should probably get him to the hospital as quick as we can,” she said. Nick couldn’t argue with that, so he stood up and carefully bent over to pick up Charlie. The brunette let out a cry of pain when his position was changed. Nick grimaced at the sound of his boyfriend in pain. He then placed a kiss on Charlie’s forehead and brought him downstairs.

The car ride to A&E was just as quiet and tense as the ride to Charlie’s house. Nick and Tori were both smushed in the back with Charlie, who had become clingy and wanted both his boyfriend and his big sister by his side. The sickly teen had sat in the middle and switched between leaning against Nick and Tori during the ride, wincing in pain every time the car hit a bump in the road. He seemed to let out a sigh of relief when they finally reached the hospital.

Sarah tried to park as close as she could, then sent Nick to grab a wheelchair by the entrance doors for Charlie to use. After a bit of maneuvering, Charlie was being wheeled into the A&E doors by Sarah, with Tori and Nick at her side. Sarah rolled Charlie up to the front desk and explained the situation at hand. Charlie’s symptoms must have been concerning enough for the nurses because they had Charlie taken back right away.

In what felt like just a few minutes, Charlie was settled on an exam table in a hospital gown with an IV in his arm delivering pain medication and fluids. Nick hated seeing Charlie like this; he always looked so tiny in hospital beds and the gowns always hung off his slight frame. The IV was just another reminder that something was wrong with Charlie and Nick had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from panicking.

Breathe, he told himself. He’s just ill. Normal ill. The doctors can fix this. This isn’t permanent.

However, Nick barely had time to collect himself before another doctor was in the room with an abdominal ultrasound wand to use to get a look inside his stomach. Nick knew Charlie was really out of it because he didn’t even protest when his gown was lifted up for the imaging. Nick tried to decipher what was shown on the screen but had no clue what any of it meant. The doctor did not seem to like what she was seeing, though.

“Well, that settles it. A textbook case of appendicitis. And it looks like you got him here in time, it is just ready to burst,” she said, turning off the ultrasound wand and gently wiping the gel off of Charlie’s stomach before moving his gown back down. “We’ll need to prep him for surgery right away…when was the last time he ate?” She looked to Sarah, assuming she was the mother, but Tori spoke up.

“He hasn't had anything since maybe 10 am yesterday," she said.

“Well that’s good news for us, means he can go up for surgery right away,” the doctor said with a smile.”I’m going to go get some things ready and the nurses will be in soon to get Charles prepped.” With that, the doctor stepped out of the room.

Charlie let out a pitiful noise, and Nick remembered that he was still awake. Just clearly feeling too rotten to chat.

“Don’t worry, Char, they just gotta take out that nasty appendix and then you’ll be right as rain,” he joked. He went to hold Charlie’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Charlie weakly squeezed it back.

“I’m going to ring our parents again- see if I can actually get in touch with one of them,” Tori said, appearing more relaxed now that they were in the hospital and had doctors taking care of her brother. She was still a little worried but felt better knowing she was no longer responsible for Charlie’s wellbeing.
“Alright, dear, I’m going to keep trying on my end as well,” Sarah said. “I’ll stay in here with Charlie, he’ll be okay.”

With Tori gone and Sarah busy trying to contact the hotel Jane and Julian were staying at, Nick was able to put all of his attention on Charlie. Charlie was pretty out of it from the painkillers, so this mostly consisted of Nick running his fingers through Charlie’s hair and pressing kisses to the back of Charlie’s hand. Little things to make him feel better.

When the nurses had taken Charlie off, Sarah reported that she had finally gotten in contact with Jane Spring and that she and her husband were on their way to the hospital. Which meant Sarah and Nick were free to go.

Nick didn’t want to leave. He wanted to be there when Charlie was back from surgery. He couldn’t just go home while Charlie was lying there alone on some operating table. But both Sarah and Tori had convinced Nick that it was fine to leave. The surgery would take at least an hour, and then he would be in recovery and they probably wouldn’t even let family in until he was moved out of the ICU and into a regular room. And so, Nick reluctantly trekked out of the hospital at 5:31 in the morning, got into his mum’s car, and promptly fell asleep as soon as she began driving them home.

Nick held his head high as he walked in through the hospital doors, the midday sun shining high. In his hands, he held a get-well card signed by all of their friends, one of his sweatshirts, and a small stuffed frog. After finding out which room Charlie was in, Nick set off for his boyfriend.

Charlie’s surgery had been successful. They got to his appendix before it ruptured. He had continued to run a fever and had been sick a few times since waking up from the surgery, but the doctors assured him and his parents that his body was just still recovering and that he would be back to normal in a few days.
Nick found Charlie’s room easily and stepped in through the open door. The room was quiet, meaning Charlie’s parents and sister had likely stepped out. But there was Charlie, curled up in the middle of the bed, eyes shut. He was still dressed in a too-big hospital gown. He still had an IV attached to his hand. But he looked peaceful. Nick smiled and crept over, unable to resist the urge to bend down and give Charlie a kiss on the forehead.

“Hi.”

Nick startled and shot up. Charlie was looking right at him, a big grin on his face. The little shit.

“Hey- you scared me!” Nick frowned, then chuckled a bit. Charlie giggled as well, but it led to a wince. “Okay, okay, no laughing yet. But how about…this.” Nick held out his sweatshirt. “I know you can’t wear it yet, but I figured you could snuggle with it. Oh- and this card is from everyone. And this frog is from Darcy.”
Charlie read over the card and held his new frog. “This was really nice- tell everyone thank you from me,” he said. His voice was a bit smaller than usual, a bit softer. Nick found it adorable.

“Well, c’mon,” Charlie said. Nick blinked.

“What?”

“Aren’t you gonna lay down with me?”

“Charlie- you literally just had surgery. I don’t want to hurt you,” Nick exclaimed.

“You won’t, I promise. Here-” He carefully scooted himself over, only wincing in pain for a few seconds. Nick hesitated, but eventually gave in and sat down beside his boyfriend. He wrapped one arm around Charlie’s shoulders so that he could hold Charlie close.

“Thank you for last night. Tori told me what happened,” Charlie mumbled. He had shut his eyes, relaxing in Nick’s warm embrace.

“I didn’t really do anything. My mum is the only one who got you to the hospital and all,” Nick said with a shrug.

“According to Tori, you carried me like a princess. You were my knight in shining armor,” Charlie insisted. Nick laughed and kissed the top of Charlie’s head.

“Dork,” he said.

“Your dork,” Charlie corrected.

Chapter Text

Sometimes, Nick hated being a primary school teacher. Yes, most things about his job were great. He loved the hugs he got from his tiny students on a daily basis, and the pictures they drew him, and the silly questions they asked (Mr. Nelson, will I ever be a baby again?). He adored getting to watch them form friendships, learn problem-solving skills, and just grow and develop during the school year in general. It may have only been his first year as a proper teacher, but he was sure this job was right for him. 

Except for the fact that year-one students are absolutely disgusting. Nick already knew this before going into teaching but figured a hefty stock of hand sanitizer would ward off whatever germs his students brought into the classroom.

Turns out hand sanitizer is ineffective when a 5-year-old sneezes directly into your mouth. 

Two days after, Nick was laid up in bed with a cold, feeling very sorry for himself. He’d woken up with a sore throat and a runny nose and a low fever, meaning he had to call off work which made him sad. He already missed his little students.

The only good thing about being sick was that meant he got to stay home with Charlie. While the younger boy had had a few classes that morning, he had been free in the afternoon and took it upon himself to take care of Nick. He’d brought Nick cough drops and tea and soup and was now holding the blonde against his chest as they watched Black Panther on the tv in the living room. 

“How are you feeling, love?” Charlie asked, looking down at his poorly boyfriend and pressing a kiss to his forehead. Nick’s fever had gone down since that morning, and overall he didn’t seem too ill, thank goodness. He was mostly just tired and annoyed. 

“I’m alright. Happy to be with you,” he said, smiling up at Charlie. He turned away to sneeze, doing his best to not get any of his germs on Charlie. 
 Charlie handed Nick a tissue, and threw it away for Nick after he had blown his nose. Charlie then went back to holding Nick close, pressing little kisses all over Nick’s hair. It was nice, Nick thought. Not being sick, but being held and cuddled and taken care of. The two of them had been so busy lately, what with Nick being a first-year teacher and trying to keep up with his new job, and Charlie being in his senior year of university, working rigorously on his thesis for his English Lit degree. Having an afternoon where the two of them could just chill on the couch and watch movies and sip on tea was nice, even if one of them had to be ill for it to happen.

“You should go to bed early tonight,” Charlie told Nick. “Hopefully over the weekend your cold will go away and you’ll be back at work by Monday.” He smiled at Nick, knowing the blonde felt guilty for leaving his students. He really loved them and Charlie found it so endearing. While he also liked kids, he found a whole classroom full of them to be far too overstimulating. That was why he was aspiring to teach secondary school students rather than the little ones. 

“I bet I will, what with you here taking care of me,” Nick grinned, leaning up to kiss Charlie. He stopped himself just in time though. He didn’t want to get Charlie ill as well. “Sorry- have to hold off on kisses for a little while longer.”

Charlie pouted but didn’t look upset. “I’ll try and survive,” he joked. “You owe me big time once you’re well.” 

Nick sniffled and held out his pinky. “I promise I will.” Charlie giggled and wrapped his own pinky around Nick’s, securing his promise. 

That evening, Charlie warmed up some soup for Nick, gave him a dose of cold medicine, and tucked them both into bed by 8 pm. They usually weren’t in bed until well past eleven, but Nick didn’t mind. It meant more time with Charlie in his eyes. He slept soundly that night, with Charlie’s arms wrapped around him, feeling snug and secure. 

Over the following two days, Nick’s health improved. He spent the weekend lounging in bed and on the couch, sneezing and sniffling and blowing his nose until he was all better. Sunday evening had him lesson planning for the week and preparing to get back to his students. He was seated on the couch, his laptop balanced on his thighs as he worked. Charlie was lying on the couch beside Nick, watching a documentary on the tv about an English poet. The younger boy had been incredibly sweet and caring all weekend long, doting over Nick and giving him lots of attention. Now, however, the brunette was quiet and subdued, having not spoken in quite a while. Nick was just about to look away from his lesson plans to see if Charlie had fallen asleep when he heard a sneeze. 

Nick turned his head to glance at Charlie as the younger boy sniffled.

“You alright?” he asked, frowning. Charlie nodded before sneezing again. “You’ve caught my cold, haven’t you?” Nick closed his laptop and placed it on the coffee table, then scooted over to be closer to his boyfriend. 

“I’mb find, honey,” Charlie said. But his voice was a bit croaky and congested and Nick knew he was lying. 

The former rugby star reached over and rested his hand on Charlie’s forehead. “You feel warm,” he said matter-of-factly. “Alright, then, off to bed with you. I’m going to make you some tea.” Charlie rolled his eyes but relented and got up, making his way to their bedroom. 

Nick made Charlie tea with lots of honey and gathered up what was left of the cold medicine. He’d have to go to the shops tomorrow. By the time he made it to their bedroom, however, Charlie was already fast asleep, curled up under the covers. Nick didn’t have the heart to wake him, so he drank the tea himself before getting ready for bed. This time, Nick wrapped his arms around Charlie, offering as much comfort as he could. It was the least he could do to make up for giving Charlie his cold, after all. 

Nick felt guilty the next morning when he had to get himself up and ready for work. He didn’t want to leave Charlie all alone, especially after Charlie had done nothing but take care of him all weekend. But he really needed to go to work- he only had so many sick days and figured he needed to save them. He was bound to catch something else from those germy five-year-olds again. So Nick quietly showered and got dressed while Charlie snored stuffily from his spot on the bed. Nick then gently stuck a thermometer into Charlie’s ear, checking his boyfriend’s temperature. Satisfied that it wasn’t too high, Nick left for work (but not after leaving a glass of water, cold medicine, cough drops, and a handwritten note on Charlie’s bedside table).

Nick’s students were excited to have him back, and Nick embraced their high energy. After having such a lazy weekend, it was nice to get going again. Of course, Nick spent pretty much every minute he didn’t have his students texting Charlie. He wanted to make sure his boyfriend was drinking water and eating. While Charlie definitely didn’t struggle as much with food as he had in high school or the first years of college, eating still became a battle whenever he was ill. 

Nick spent his evening after work taking care of Charlie, offering the younger boy cuddles and more tea with honey. Their routine carried on in a similar fashion for the next few days; Nick went off to work, texted Charlie all day nagging him to eat and drink, then got home and doted over his sniffly, sneezy boyfriend. 

On day three of Charlie’s cold, Nick expected him to be feeling better. By day three Nick had been pretty much symptom-free and had most of his energy back. However, day three for Charlie brought around an even higher temperature and a chesty cough. Nick was not fond of that whatsoever. 

“39.3…that’s kinda high, Char, maybe I should stay home with you today,” Nick said, reading the thermometer. He was sitting on the edge of their bed, dressed in his work clothes, but ready to get out of them at a moment’s notice. 

“No, your kids need you,” Charlie said before he broke off into a cough. He turned his head away from Nick, coughing loudly into his elbow. “‘M just gon’da sleep all anyway.” He cleared his throat, then rubbed at his tired eyes. Nick had to admit that Charlie looked exhausted. It was probably because he had been up half the night either sniffling or coughing, his cold not letting him get proper rest. It was probably true that Charlie would sleep most of the day away. 

“Okay…” Nick said, still feeling unsure about leaving Charlie alone. “But if you need me, you can call and I’ll come right home. Or you could call Elle or Tara, they should both be around today. And make sure you keep drinking water, please?” Nick knew he was acting like a bit of a mother hen but he couldn’t help it. 

“I will, I promise. Now get going or you’ll be late,” Charlie said, smiling weakly up at his boyfriend. Nick let out a sigh, paused, then nodded and stood up. 

“Fine. You get some sleep,” he ordered in return. “Don’t get any more ill while I’m gone.”

Apparently, Charlie did not listen to Nick because his cold continued to wreak havoc on his body. By Friday afternoon he was feeling a thousand times worse. It was as if a baby elephant was sat on his chest. He was constantly coughing, bringing up globs of slimy gunk, and had a fever that just wouldn’t go down. He had been having a very difficult time sleeping as every time he laid down the gunk shifted in his chest and caused him to cough and cough and cough and cough. He was starting to wish he had asked Nick to stay home that day, and almost cried tears of joy when Nick entered their small apartment. 

“Hi, love,” Nick said softly, seeing Charlie curled up on the couch under a pile of blankets. He hung up his jacket and work bag, slipped off his shoes, then headed over to check on his boyfriend. Charlie coughed, making no move to get up. Nick knelt down next to Charlie and hummed, smoothing back the hair from his sweaty forehead. “Still feeling crummy, huh?” he asked. Charlie just nodded, too tired to talk. Plus his voice was shot from all the coughing. 

“Alright- I’m going to put the kettle on and then we can cuddle and watch a show, how’s that sound?” Nick said, hoping to cheer up his pitiful boyfriend. After getting a nod, Nick stood up and headed into the kitchen. 

Nick prepared tea and a mug of chicken broth, hoping Charlie would drink some of it. He had hardly eaten anything in the past two days. Whilst he was in the kitchen, Nick could hear Charlie coughing and wheezing. It seemed like not even ten seconds could go by without Charlie needing to let out a cough. They all sounded very wet as well, and Nick knew it couldn’t be comfortable. It was probably time to drag Charlie to the doctor’s, Nick mused. Charlie’s cold seemed to be a whole lot more severe than Nick’s had been. 

Nick returned to the living room with the mugs in his hands and set them on the coffee table. He then sat beside Charlie and looked down at the poor boy. His eyes were bloodshot and a few stray tears were leaking down his rosy cheeks. His lips were dry and chapped, parted slightly as he breathed, each inhale and exhale whistling slightly. Charlie closed his eyes and coughed again, more tears sliding down his cheeks.

“My poor baby,” Nick cooed, moving to pull Charlie into his arms. He got his boyfriend into a more comfortable position, keeping him elevated in hopes it helped with the cough. “I’m sorry you feel so bad. I wish you hadn’t caught this.” He pressed a kiss to Charlie’s too-hot forehead and sighed. 

“'s’okay,” Charlie said quietly. It wasn’t, but Nick let it slide. He turned on the tv, putting on one of Charlie’s favorite shows. Neither of them paid much attention to it, though. Charlie was too busy coughing every ten seconds, and Nick was too busy trying to coat Charlie to sip the tea and broth in between coughing fits. Charlie barely made it until six before he retired to bed, feeling extremely fatigued. Nick stayed up a bit longer, doing some light house cleaning and lesson planning for the following week. It was hard to get much done when all he could focus on was Charlie coughing from the other room, however. Eventually, Nick gave up on getting any work done and went to bed as well, hoping Charlie would wake up in the morning feeling better. 

Nick had just managed to doze off when one of Charlie’s coughing fits woke him up. Charlie slept through it but looked miserable. Just as Nick was dozing off again, Charlie was coughing, again. This time he woke up slightly but was out of it for the most part. Nick rubbed his boyfriend’s arm, wishing there was some way he could help. 

By midnight, it was clear neither of them was getting any sleep. Charlie’s cough would not quit, waking him up every time he managed to drift off. Nothing seemed to help. Nick had offered Charlie more tea, fed him cough syrup, rubbed vapor rub all over his chest, and propped him up against pillows. But Charlie was still coughing up a storm. 

“Do you want to go to A&E, love?” Nick asked, grimacing as Charlie coughed for the thousandth time. “You look absolutely wrecked and neither of us is getting any sleep at this rate,” he reasoned. But Charlie shook his head, determined to ride the night out. Nick had already said they were going to the doctor in the morning; he could hang on until then.

Nick sighed but nodded. “Alright. I’m gonna get you some more water, I’ll be right back.” Nick pressed a kiss to Charlie’s forehead and then got up, heading down the hall and to the kitchen. He made a face when Charlie coughed again, feeling awful for the poor thing. If he could go back in time he would have never let Charlie take care of him in the first place. 

As Nick was filling up Charlie’s glass, he heard Charlie’s coughs became more intense, this time accompanied by the sound of gagging. Alarm bells went off in Nick’s head, and he quickly rushed back to their bedroom where he found Charlie, hunched over and coughing and gagging violently into his hands. He gagged once more as Nick entered the room, this time bringing up the broth and tea he had consumed earlier, soiling both the comforter and his pajamas. 

“Oh, love,” Nick said, coming over and sitting down beside Charlie, who was still coughing but not quite as harshly now. His hands and face and shirt were a mess, but Nick still gathered the sick boy in his arms and hugged him. “Charlie, we’re going to A&E. This cannot just be a cold- a cold doesn’t make you cough so much you vomit,” he said, doing his best to hide how worried he was. 

Charlie didn’t protest the hospital this time, scared that talking would set off another coughing fit. He felt so awful all he wanted to do was cry, but he couldn’t even breathe well enough to do that. So he settled for sitting there while Nick mopped up his face and hands, removed the soiled comforter, changed his shirt, put on his shoes, and ushered him out of the apartment and down to the car.  

Five hours and three breathing treatments later, they were back home and snuggled up under the covers. All Charlie had had to do at A&E was start coughing and immediately the nurses were bringing him back to be seen, letting him bypass a few other patients. He had quickly been diagnosed with bronchitis and was given nebulized steroids along with some oxygen therapy to get him feeling better. It had taken a little longer than the doctors wanted for Charlie’s oxygen levels to come back up, and they had been close to admitting him. But the last breathing treatment seemed to do the trick and the two were sent home with a prescription for more steroids and a box containing a nebulizer for them to keep at home. 

By the time they had gotten the prescription filled and were home, it was nearing six in the morning and the sun was already out. Charlie was dead on his feet, barely managing to keep himself upright as he navigated his way into the apartment. Nick chuckled fondly, one hand on Charlie’s back in an attempt to help guide him. “Just a few more steps, once we’re at the bed you can pass the fuck out,” Nick assured his boyfriend. And that he did, sprawling out on the bed as soon as it was in sight. 

Nick looked around, considering cleaning things up a bit before deciding he’d rather lay with his boyfriend and attempt to get a little sleep as well. He set an alarm for four hours later, so he could wake and administer another breathing treatment to Charlie. He would have to do that continuously for a few days, the doctor had said, as Charlie’s airways had been extremely inflamed. But for now, sleep was calling his name. 

That weekend, Nick finally got to care for Charlie properly. They settled into a routine of sleeping, snuggling, and waking up every four hours for more inhaled steroids. Nick got Charlie to take a warm bubble bath and washed his hair for him, happy to pamper the younger boy. Charlie's cough was still quite severe, but it was much more controlled now, and he was at least able to sleep a little better. 

On Sunday evening, they were back on the couch. Nick had his laptop out, finishing up his lesson plans for the week. Charlie was sitting beside him, holding the nebulizer mouthpiece in place and waiting for the breathing treatment to be done. Another documentary was playing on the tv, this one about some American author. Nick glanced over at Charlie, looking him over. The curly-haired boy finally had some color back on his face and he was actually watching the tv, not just staring absently at the screen. That was progress, Nick thought. The doctors had said it could be another two weeks before the bronchitis completely cleared up, but Nick was happy to see that Charlie was already doing a little better.

Nick watched Charlie for another moment before he shut his laptop and set it aside. “I’m staying home tomorrow,” he declared. 

Charlie blinked, then took the nebulizer out of his mouth and looked at Nick. “What? You don’t have to-” he said, before letting out a little cough. Nick all but shoved the mouthpiece back between Charlie’s lips. 

“No, but I want to. You spent all week alone last week, and now you’re still ill and about to be alone again for another week. Let me take a day off for you. It’s the least I can do to make up for getting you this ill in the first place,” he reasoned. 

Charlie let out a sigh; he didn’t really have the energy to argue. Plus, he had to admit, he did kind of want his boyfriend around. “Okay, you win,” he relented.

Nick grinned in victory, then shoved the nebulizer back into Charlie’s mouth once again. When the breathing treatment was finished, Nick flicked off the machine and put it away on the coffee table. As he settled back beside Charlie, he stopped and gently took hold of Charlie’s chin, leaning in to kiss him on the lips.

“I did promise you a kiss, huh?” he said, smiling fondly down at Charlie. He then smacked his lips together. “Ew- those steroids taste weird.”
 

Charlie let out a laugh and gave Nick a playful shove. “Well don’t go kissing me right after I’ve had them then,” he snickered. Nick just gazed at Charlie with a fond expression, so happy to finally see the other boy smiling. For so many days Charlie had been putting on fake smiles to push through the pain of his illness. Seeing a genuine smile made Nick feel a sense of relief. He never wanted to get Charlie sick again. 

Of course, when Nick returned to work on Tuesday, five-year-old Veronica vomited all over his shoes. Here we go again, he thought. 

Chapter Text

Charlie was an excellent big brother if he did say so himself. Despite being eight when Oliver was born and having previously been the baby of the family for his entire life, Charlie was absolutely smitten with his brother right from the start. Oliver was adorable; the happiest baby ever that turned into the happiest kid ever. Seeing as they came from such a miserable family, Charlie had no idea where all that happiness came from. Nonetheless, Olly was a delight to be around and had Charlie wrapped around his little finger.

And so, when seven-year-old Oliver came down with chickenpox the first week of summer vacation, Charlie just couldn’t say no to those pitiful puppy dog eyes asking to play Mario Kart with him. Charlie had just gotten back from his trip to Paris not too long ago, while Olly had been cooped up in his room ever since school ended. So Charlie felt pretty bad for him. He wasn’t even too ill either, just itchy and bored and sad because it was summer and he couldn’t play with his friends. So it was practically Charlie’s duty as an older brother to do whatever Olly needed to make him feel better, which in this case, was to let him win at Mario Kart.

There was no harm to it, really. Charlie had had chickenpox as a baby alongside Tori, and it was kind of nice to relax at home. Paris had been exhausting. He was fine with laying low with his kid brother for a week.

A week later when Olly’s pox finally blistered over, Charlie was freed of his Mario Kart duties. Charlie was back at Nick’s place for the evening. He was cuddled up in his boyfriend’s bed while a movie played on Nick’s laptop. Well, they were trying to cuddle. Scratch that, Charlie was trying to cuddle. Nick kept fidgeting and moving around, occasionally lifting off Charlie’s arm or leg and placing it somewhere else. Charlie let out a whine the third time his arm was moved.

“Nick,” he said, pouting. “I was trying to hug you.”

“Sorry, Char- I love you, it’s just so hot. It’s, what, over 30 degrees outside,” Nick said, offering Charlie a smile. Charlie just frowned.

“It’s not that hot in here- it’s kinda cold, actually,” Charlie said. Nick gave him a look and the next thing he knew, Nick’s hand was on his forehead. “Wha-what?”

“Are you ill? Because I know you say you’re cold but you don’t feel it,” Nick said, moving to cup Charlie’s cheek. Nick pursed his lips and stared at Charlie, studying his face for a long moment before he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Charlie’s forehead. “Yup, definitely feverish. Let me grab a thermometer, you stay put.” Nick pushed down on Charlie’s shoulders, forcing the smaller boy to lay down while Nick got up and stepped out of the room. He returned just a few minutes later and instructed Charlie to put the thermometer into his mouth.

“My mum said she’ll ring yours to come and pick you up,” Nick said, scooting over to sit next to Charlie so he could engulf him in a hug. Charlie leaned into the embrace, sitting against Nick until the thermometer beeped.

“38.5,” Charlie read off the thermometer. “That’s not even that high.”

“But it is a fever, you’re going home. Your body is probably run down and needs some extra rest- school just ended and then Paris was a lot.” That much was true, especially for Charlie, for reasons he did not particularly want to discuss. But it made sense. Stress on top of stress on top of stress was not good for the immune system. He was about due for a cold, he guessed.

“Ugh, no fair,” Charlie whined, shifting to bury his face into Nick’s neck. Nick made a face in discomfort.

“Charlie, I love you, but get off,” he laughed, gently pushing Charlie away. “C’mon- let’s get you an iced water while we wait for your mum to arrive.”

Charlie’s mum arrived about ten minutes later and took him home. She gave him a dose of paracetamol and told him to take it easy for the rest of the evening. Tori and Michael were downstairs watching a movie, and Oliver was making a mess of his toys in the living room, so Charlie retreated to his bedroom, where he promptly fell asleep without even texting Nick goodnight.

The next morning, Charlie still had a fever with a sore throat to boot. Yup, it looked like a cold. His mum had already left for work, so Tori gave Charlie some more medicine and forced him to drink a mug of tea. He spent most of the day in bed, alternating between sleeping and texting with Nick and the rest of his friends. Nick was even sweet enough to stop by in the evening so they could still watch a movie together, even if Charlie fell asleep not even 30 minutes into it. All in all, it wasn’t a terrible day.

The following day he was considerably worse, though. His fever had spiked up sometime during the night and was nearing 39.5 degrees. He felt awful on top of it, horribly fatigued and aching everywhere imaginable. His mum found him curled up in the fetal position and gave him another dose of meds and told Tori to stick around the house to keep an eye on him during the day. Charlie kept off his phone, his head aching quite a lot and not wanting the light to make it worse. He did not account for the fact that Nick had been not-so-patiently awaiting a good morning text from Charlie. So it really shouldn’t have been a surprise when Nick showed up in Charlie’s doorway that afternoon.

“Hi,” Nick greeted the younger boy, smiling sheepishly. “You weren’t answering my texts and I was worried- Tori said you were feeling worse today?” Nick kept his voice low and gentle as he walked into the room. “Would a cuddle help?”

Charlie looked up at Nick and nodded, smiling weakly as Nick made a beeline for Charlie’s bed and laid down next to him. Soon, Nick’s arms were wrapped around the smaller boy, holding his feverish body close. Charlie shifted and threw one arm across Nick’s chest. He then melted into his boyfriend’s embrace, shutting his eyes as Nick played with his (very messy) hair.

“Hey…you said you already had chickenpox, right…?”

Charlie opened his eyes and looked up at Nick. “Um, yeah, that’s what my mum said. Why?” he asked, furrowing his brow. Nick was quiet for a moment, then lifted Charlie’s arm and turned it around so Charlie could see. About four or so red bumps resembling bug bites resided on his inner forearm. Charlie looked at them, then poked them a few times. His arm had been itching a bit but he hadn’t thought much about it. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Can you even get chickenpox twice?” Nick asked, examining the rest of Charlie’s arm and finding a few more spots, as well as some on his other arm and neck.

“I don’t think so,” Charlie said, panicking ever so slightly as he saw all the spots. “Maybe they’re bug bites?” he said. Nick just gave him a look, and then shouted,

“TORI!”

“Well,” Tori said, after having called their mum who was now on her way home from work. “Charlie, it turns out you did not have chickenpox as a baby.”

“What? But mum said so,” Charlie pouted from his spot in bed. He was curled up in Nick’s arms (who had actually had chickenpox before and was safe) with a cold, damp cloth on his forehead.

“She said I had them, and she swore you were there too but then she remembered that no, she had been very pregnant with you while I had them," Tori said, leaning against Charlie's doorway.

"I can't believe she told me I had them when I didn't," Charlie said with a small pout.

"Mum does always say the first three years of our lives were a blur.” Tori shrugged apathetically. “Guess that’s what happens when you have two babies only a year apart. Fucks you up.”

“It must’ve been a lot- almost like twins,” Nick mused, rubbing Charlie’s back. “And my mum complained about the age gap between me and my brother.”

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure I was an accident. And I was born, like, three months early. We weren’t supposed to be this close together,” Charlie said with a slight giggle. It was pretty lackluster compared to his usual laugh, though.

“The result is a mum who was so traumatized with us she waited a whole eight years before trying again,” Tori said.

“Hm.” Nick pursed his lips. “Makes sense. You two have always been the difficult ones, huh?” He joked around as he mussed up Charlie’s hair. Charlie just pouted again.

Nick stayed with Charlie up until Jane Spring arrived home. He then saw himself out (after giving Charlie’s forehead another tender kiss), while Charlie was looked over by his mum. She seemed pretty guilty about not remembering that he had not had chickenpox before, and for letting him be exposed to Oliver.

“Oh, honey- I’m so sorry you're sick. I would have never let you be near Oliver if I had known,” she said, feeling his flushed cheek.

“It’s okay, mum. It’s just chickenpox- little kids get ‘em all the time. Oliver was fine,” he said, looking up at his mum and Tori through glassy eyes.

“Yes, Oliver’s case was quite mild. We’ll just hope that yours isn’t much worse,” his mum said, giving Charlie a reassuring smile.

Oliver’s case had indeed been pretty mild, with him only having a low-grade fever for a day and a half before most of his usual self was back. Aside from the spots and itchiness, he had been the same old Oliver.

Charlie’s case was not looking mild. Charlie’s energy was completely wiped, and his fever remained high all afternoon. He hardly even had the energy to text Nick, their conversation mostly one-sided with Charlie using ample emojis as they required less thought than words. The following day he was just as ill, with the same ever-present high fever and even more spots (on his face, on his arms, on his stomach, on his back, everywhere). Charlie was even more lethargic, refused to eat anything, and was only on his phone a handful of times throughout the day. Nick had wanted to come over, but Charlie had said not to. He didn’t want his boyfriend to witness him like this.

Day five was definitely the worst. His fever reached 40 degrees and decided to stay there, not budging. He had spots everywhere imaginable; even on his hands and feet and inside of his ears and mouth. Walking hurt, moving hurt, breathing hurt. Tori was the one to wake him up that morning, with a cup of juice their mother was hoping the eldest Spring child could convince Charlie to drink. He’d been surviving off of Pedialyte, applesauce, and lukewarm tea for the past few days now. His disordered eating was bad enough as it was, but having blisters inside his mouth was causing him to have a complete oral aversion. His parents had had to threaten to take him to A&E to get an IV to get him to finish a cup of Pedialyte the previous evening.

“Charlie, you awake?” Tori asked quietly, entering her brother’s room. She approached the mound of covers and gently pulled them back, revealing Charlie. She expected him to be asleep, or only just waking up. Instead, he was crying softly, curled up into a tight ball with his hands wound up in the sleeves of his sweatshirt.

Tori wasted no time sitting next to her brother, hesitantly reaching out to pet his unruly hair. “Oh, Char…what is it? Why are you crying?” Charlie’s cries suddenly grew a lot louder at the question until he was full on sobbing. Soon, Julio was poking his head into the room.

“Mijo, what’s wrong?” Julio asked. Charlie continued to cry as Julio entered the room, calling for Jane as he did so. The parents checked over Charlie for a few minutes, both unable to get him to really calm down. Even after he had worn himself out from crying, he continued whimpering and grunting in pain. Eventually, Julio called up the pediatrician and took Charlie in for a check-up to ensure it was just chickenpox.

It was, which meant there was not much that could be done about Charlie’s pain aside from paracetamol (which hadn’t helped much in the past few days, so Charlie doubted it would do much now). Unfortunately for Charlie, the doctor informed him that chickenpox can be a lot more severe in teenagers and adults. He would likely be feeling just as bad for several more days before he was on the mend. This news did not help with his already unpleasant mood. He spent the remainder of the day in bed, tended to by his parents or Tori. They tried their best, but between the itching and aching and fever and headache, Charlie was a mess.

Tori took it upon herself to call Nick around six that evening, fed up with her brother’s misery.

“Nick. You need to come over and visit your boyfriend. He’s insufferable and ill.” Tori spoke as soon as Nick picked up, getting right to the point.

“Tori? Hey- wait, what’s going on? He wants me to come over? He told me yesterday your parents didn’t want me over until he was feeling better,” Nick said. He had been a bit saddened by that message but understood that Charlie’s parents likely just wanted him to properly rest and recover.

“He’s a liar, our parents never said that. He’s probably just embarrassed for you to see him.”

“He’s ill, he doesn’t have to be embarrassed about that,” Nick said, chuckling a bit. How very Charlie. “So what’s going on now then? How is he?”

“Pretty awful. He has spots everywhere- on his fingers, around his mouth, inside of his ears. His fever is super high. He’s crying a lot. Nothing is helping. As much as I love Charlie, I am already quite close to strangling him to death over the amount of whimpering I have heard come out of his mouth today alone.”

That was all that Nick needed to hear to drop his afternoon plans with Sai to go and visit Charlie.

When Nick arrived, Charlie was huddled under his covers, itching roughly at his arm. He was itching so intensely he hadn’t noticed his door open, or his boyfriend sitting on the boyfriend beside him. He stopped itching when Nick’s large hand covered his own smaller one, gently pulling it away from the irritated skin. Charlie let out a pathetic whine, looking up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes.

“Sorry- I know you’re itchy but I don’t want you to make the spots bleed,” Nick said. His voice the most soothing thing Charlie had ever heard. “We could put some more calamine lotion on- but you already look like you’ve got that taken care of.”

It wasn’t noticeable due to his fever, but Charlie blushed in embarrassment. He already looked weird enough with all the spots covering him, and he knew the pink lotion smeared all over his body was not flattering whatsoever. Charlie whimpered and buried his face in his hands.

“Hey- Char, what’s wrong?” Nick asked, gently prying Charlie’s hands away from his face. “C’mon, look at me. Why are you hiding?” That wasn’t like Charlie- he usually wanted a hug or kiss as soon as he caught sight of his boyfriend, especially when he wasn’t feeling the greatest.

“I look so gross,” Charlie mumbled.

If his boyfriend hadn't looked (and clearly felt) so awful, Nick would have laughed.

“Well, you’re ill, love. That’s kinda what happens.” Nick looked down at Charlie, then kissed the tip of his nose. “I still think you look beautiful. Even if you do bear a slight resemblance to a lobster right now.” Nick gave his boyfriend a goofy grin to let him know it was a joke. “Now, how does a film and a cuddle sound? We never finished the film on Tuesday.”

The next thing Nick knew, his arms were full of Charlie. A sobbing Charlie.

“Hey- Woah- Charlie, it’s okay, I’m here-” Nick stuttered, caught off-guard by the tears. “What’s going on?”

“I- I don’t f-feel well,” Charlie choked out in-between sobs.

Nick relaxed a bit, glad the tears were over something physical, something he could help with. “I reckon you don’t,” Nick said. He kissed Charlie’s hot, sweaty, calamine-covered forehead and smiled. “How can I help?”

“Just…” Charlie paused, sagging against Nick’s chest. “Just hold me?”

Nick couldn’t say no to that. He had practically come over specifically for that reason. “Of course.”

The pair settled comfortably on Charlie’s bed. Nick leaned back against Charlie’s pillows while acting as a human pillow for Charlie. Nick’s arms were wrapped protectively around the smaller boy, and Nick spent the rest of the movie (and into the next one they chose) rubbing soothing circles on Charlie’s arms and back and chest. Not enough to scratch his spots, but enough to be soothing. It seemed to do the trick, as Charlie had settled down and was no longer trying to scratch his skin off.

The rest of the day consisted of a lot less misery on Charlie’s end. Fewer tears, less whimpering, less agonizing groans. The fever was still there, the spots were still so bad that Charlie had to ask Nick to carry him to the bathroom at one point as even the bottoms of his feet were covered in blisters, and he still couldn’t manage more than some yogurt and Pedialyte. But the pain was duller, more manageable. And Nick was there. Holding him. With no signs of ever letting go.

Chapter Text

There was once a time when Charlie hadn’t believed he would make it to adulthood. By the age of thirteen, he had planned his own death. Instead of thinking about friends and crushes and homework, Charlie was considering different suicide methods. He'd tried a few of them.

But he kept going- because he met Nick. Nick, who reminded him of why life was beautiful and precious. Nick, who reminded Charlie that his life was worth something and that he had the right to be happy. Nick, who stayed by Charlie’s side through the long and painful process of recovery and never left his side once. 

Charlie was surprised when he made it to eighteen, twenty, twenty-four, twenty-six. But the next thing he knew those years of pain and depression were in the past. He had finished university, got a job as an editor, married Nick. They bought a house, Charlie published several books, they had even started a family of their own. The pair had gotten licensed to foster the previous year and had taken in several children of various ages before a two-day-old girl was placed with them. Maeve remained in Nick and Charlie’s care for six months before her birth mother gave up parental rights, and Nick and Charlie pursued adoption. Things went smoothly and soon Maeve was officially, legally theirs. While they never intended to adopt when they went into foster care, Maeve had stolen their hearts from day one. They were glad they could assure her mum that she would grow up in a stable environment (while still keeping an open relationship with her mother, as long as it was possible). Life seemed perfect. 

Despite everything seeming perfect, Charlie was in the middle of a major relapse. He had been for nearly a long time now, he realized. It had started around the time they began the adoption process with Maeve. It just so coincided with a major deadline at work. His love of literature had led to him writing several books sharing queer stories. His first two books, a series of memoirs and a book of poems, had been quite successful. At the time he had also been working on a young adult novel written in verse.

The stress of the adoption as well as things getting busier at work caused Charlie to have a harder and harder time eating. It started as just him working through lunch so that he could finish his work quicker and not miss any time at home with Maeve and Nick. Then it was skipping breakfast, which was easy as Nick always left for work first while Charlie spent the mornings getting Maeve up and ready for daycare. He would feed the one-year-old breakfast while sitting beside her, the table in front of him empty. Part of him realized he needed to cut out any unhealthy eating habits in front of his daughter, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Sometimes, when Nick worked late, he would skip dinner, too. He often only ate a small amount of food at dinner, always claiming that he preferred to have a bigger lunch at work. Weekends were tricker to keep up with his disordered habits, and he’d taken to hiding food in napkins when Nick was distracted by Maeve. He had gone as far as to stuff cheese-filled ravioli into his sweatshirt pocket just to keep from having to eat it. It wasn’t about body image at first, he swore it wasn’t. But like always, once he began to drop weight, he became addicted to the scale. He watched the numbers drop every week. Before he knew it, his collar bones were sticking out, his ribs were visible, and he weighed even less than he had at age sixteen (which was in no way sustainable for his grown, twenty-six-year-old body). And he loved it. 

While packing up the diaper bag one particular morning in September, Charlie thought about ways he could get arouund eating while he and Nick took Maeve to the zoo to attend a birthday party for a baby she went to daycare with. Luckily, with all the babies and toddlers crawling and running around, Charlie figured he’d be able to avoid it. It was bound to be chaotic and Nick tended to be a kid magnet, meaning he would surely be busy during the party. And then after, he could claim he had grabbed a few slices of pizza or whatever other kid-friendly food was being served to get out of eating dinner. It was all going to be fine, he assured himself. 

“Who’s ready for their first time at the zoo?” Nick asked, cooing as he entered the room with Maeve in his arms. The eighteen-month-old babbled and shook a toy phone in her hand, making Charlie smile. 

“Looks like our little girl is,” Charlie grinned, zipping up the diaper bag before putting it on his back. “And I for one am excited to see some cute animals.” He walked over to the pair and first kissed Maeve on her (bald) head, and then one on Nick’s lips. 

“Well, shall we head out then?” Nick asked, motioning to the front door. “Don’t wanna be late.” 

Charlie nodded and followed his family out the front door. Things would be fine. 

For September, it was quite hot out. Everyone else was donned in t-shirts and shorts, but Charlie was sporting a sweater and skinny jeans. His comfort clothes. The party was held in the play zoo, a separate section of the zoo built specifically for toddlers and young children. Inside were animal-themed toys and a soft play area, while outside there was a sandbox, a garden, and a water table. All the while zookeepers were coming around with animals for the children to interact with. Maeve was having a blast, toddling around and chasing after her buddies from daycare. She especially enjoyed being outside and playing with the sand and water table. Luckily, Nick had packed her a hat and sunscreen so Charlie wasn’t worried about her being out in the heat. 

The heat was not doing Charlie any favors, however. He had tried to stay out of the sun but it was pretty much impossible. He did his best to remain chipper when talking with the other parents, but mid-way through the party he could feel what little energy he had left waning. He had a headache as well. He knew he needed something to eat, something to drink, but he couldn’t bring himself to so much as glance at the table holding refreshments. When had he eaten last? He’d yet to eat at all that day…and dinner the previous day due to Nick working late. And he never ate breakfast or lunch, so it had been at least a day and a half. He’d had some water at work yesterday, but that was about it. His mouth was so dry. But the little voices in his head were back, telling him he couldn’t drink water, that something bad would happen if he did, that he would get fat, that he was already fat. 

Charlie turned away and looked around the zoo for Nick, spotting him holding Maeve while chatting with a few of the dads. Charlie made his way in their direction, wondering if maybe he pretended to just be tired, they could leave early. His limbs felt heavy and every step was taking far too much effort. Charlie was aware that he probably wouldn’t last much longer like this. 

“There you are, Charlie!” Genevieve, the mom of a friend Maeve often had playdates with, approached Charlie. “I was looking for you. Next week I was thinking we could–hey, are you alright?” She stopped talking suddenly, studying his complexion. “You do not look so good, want me to go get Nick?”

Charlie blinked sluggishly, trying to focus on Genevieve. He felt dizzy and for some reason his vision was blurry. “Um- I-” he smacked his lips a few times, feeling confused. Black spots floated around the corners of his vision. He could hear Genevieve calling for Nick, but her voice sounded like it was underwater. He was vaguely aware of a hand on his shoulder and another on his cheek before his vision went dark. 

Charlie thought he was only out for thirty or so seconds. When he came to, Nick was hovering over him, Maeve a few feet away from being held by one of the dads Nick had been chatting with. There luckily wasn’t a crowd around him, most of the adults having ushered the kids away so they wouldn’t make a scene. 

“Char? Honey?” Nick asked softly, caressing Charlie’s face. “Are you back with me?”

Charlie blinked groggily up at his husband, the world still spinning around him. “W..” his voice cracked and he couldn’t get himself to really form words. He tried to push himself up but found that he was still lightheaded and couldn’t get himself to stop shaking. 

“Hey, no- stay down, it’s okay,” Nick said softly. “You were out for a while, baby, about seven minutes…an ambulance is on its way, you’re going to be fine.”

Seven minutes? That couldn’t be right. Charlie tried to ask what happened but his mouth wasn’t cooperating. Charlie blinked once, long and slow, and the next thing he knew Nick was gone and he was looking up into the eyes of a concerned paramedic. 

“Hi, Charlie, my name is Dorothy. We're gonna get you up on a gurney and off to the hospital, alright?” she said, speaking slowly and clearly. Charlie tried to say yes, but the word came out all slurred. He felt hands underneath him, maneuvering his body onto a stiff board and the next thing he knew they were loading him into an ambulance. 

Charlie tried to move his head around without making himself dizzier. Where was Maeve? Where was Nick? He could feel panic setting in when someone took hold of his left hand. 

“I’m here, Charlie,” Nick said, giving his husband’s hand a firm squeeze. “Martin is going to keep an eye on Maeve and my mum is on her way right now to pick her up.” He looked down at the younger man, trying to hide the worry and fear in his eyes. Around then, the paramedics began checking Charlie’s vitals. 

“He’s got a bradycardiarhoythm,” said one. 

“BP is low, too– 80/60.” called out another. 

“Definitely dehydrated, I can’t get an IV in.”

“Let me try one in the saphenous vein,” the last paramedic said. Charlie had no idea what was going on, but Nick watched the paramedics work, taking in every monitor and tube that was attached to his husband. Charlie’s complexion was scarily pale, and now that his sweater had been lifted so that the paramedics could attach heart monitor leads to his chest, his emaciated frame was visible for all to see. 

Nick couldn’t help but stare. That couldn’t be, how could Nick have missed that? Charlie wasn't that...that thin. No, skeletal. To be fair, it had been a long time since they’d been intimate, what with Maeve and their busy jobs. When they had had the time to have sex lately, it was usually late and dim and still, Nick felt like he should have noticed. 

When they arrived at the hospital, Charlie was taken back right away due to his concerning vitals, leaving Nick all alone in the waiting room. The only thing he could do was break down and cry. 

About an hour later, Nick was allowed back to see Charlie. Charlie was propped up in a bed, IV now secured in his arm and many different wires coming out from under a hospital gown. He had a blood pressure cuff on his arm and every so often the machines next to his bed beeped. Nick had no idea if the beeps were a good thing or not. 

Nick cautiously entered the room and took a seat in the chair beside Charlie’s bed. The younger man was avoiding eye contact. He fiddled absently with his hospital bracelet. 

“Charlie,” Nick started, voice low. “You really scared me today.”

Charlie didn’t know what to say. There was a somber tone to Nick’s voice, and Charlie knew he knew. It took all of Charlie’s strength to keep from crying. 

“The doctors said you’re underweight, Charlie. Malnourished.” Nick was staring at his husband, staring at the way the gown hung off of his emaciated frame. How long had this been going on? How had he not noticed? “You- The doctors are worried about your heart. They said that you’re showing signs of heart failure.”

Charlie blinked. Heart failure? That surely couldn't be right. Nick continued. 

“Your blood pressure is too low and your electrolytes are unbalanced. You- Charlie, how did this happen?” Nick asked, even though he knew. 

Charlie slowly lifted his head up, looking over at Nick. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. 

“No- no, don’t be sorry. I just- I didn’t notice you were struggling. And now- Charlie, you’re seriously ill.” Nick couldn’t hide his worry anymore, and Charlie couldn’t help but felt incredibly guilty. 

“I- it’s not that bad, Nick. I’ll call up my therapist and schedule a new appointment and get back on track-” he started, before Nick shook his head. 

“No...Char. The doctors said you need to stay in hospital for a while.”

Charlie’s eyes widened. No way was that happening. He would get so behind on work and Maeve. She wouldn’t understand where he was, why she had a third parent suddenly disappearing from her life. “No- Nick- Nick, I can’t-” he said. 

“Charlie.” Nick’s voice was firm. Serious. “You have no choice. Your BMI is dangerously low. They said if you don’t go along with admission, they said they’ll have to file for you to be sectioned under the Mental Health Act.” 

Charlie quieted, taking in just how serious the situation at hand was. Was he really that ill?

“You aren’t a teenager anymore- your body can’t handle being in constant starvation mode like it used to,” Nick continued softly, brushing the hair out of Charlie’s eyes. “I discussed things with your doctor. And I think it’s best that once you’re medically stabilized, you try a residential treatment program.” Charlie shook his head, tears in his eyes. 

“No- N-no, I don’t- I’ll be away from you and Maeve and- what kind of father does that make me?” he said, voice cracking. 

“Maeve won’t have you as a father if you don’t get help,” Nick said, shaking his head. “Don’t you see? You’re dying right now, Charlie. Dying. Your heart is failing, and you’re at risk of re-feeding syndrome and more organ damage. I can’t- you need serious help right now, honey. I love you- I want to be with you for the rest of our life.” Nick reached out and wiped a stray tear off of his cheek. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Charlie could hear the pain in Nick’s voice. He knew he was hurting his husband, would hurt his daughter if he went on like this. He could feel his heart breaking. 

“I don’t want to be like this,” Charlie whispered. He looked away from Nick, scared. He would admit it now, he was terrified. This disease had taken control of him and he didn’t know if he was strong enough to fight it off. 

“You don’t have to be,” Nick assured Charlie, holding one of Charlie’s hands in both of his own. “You can get better. You’ve done it before and you’ll do it again. But first, you have to accept help.” 

Charlie looked back up at Nick and slowly nodded. Tears welled up in his eyes as relief washed over Nick’s face and the older man bent down to hug him. “We’re going to get through this,” Nick whispered into Charlie’s hair. “Together.”

Chapter Text

The morning Charlie and his friends were meant to depart for New York City, Charlie woke up with a sore throat. 

He rolled over in bed and swallowed, hiding a wince when he did so. That didn’t feel great, he thought. He tested his throat by swallowing again, and then let out a dejected sigh. Of all days to have a sore throat, he grumbled. He reluctantly sat up in bed after checking the time on his phone. Nick was already up, packing and scurrying around their tiny shared apartment. Charlie had lived in the dorms during his first year of uni, but he moved in with Nick during his second year and the two had been cohabitating ever since. 

“Morning, Charlie,” Nick said, giving his boyfriend a smile before he returned to haphazardly throwing shorts into a suitcase. Charlie laughed. 

“Are you seriously still packing? We have to leave for the airport in, like, an hour,” he said, still sounding like himself despite the sore throat. Charlie was grateful for that; he didn’t want to ruin Nick’s (or anybody else’s) fun during the trip. 

Charlie got out of bed and slowly made his way through his morning routine (which included swallowing all his pills and supplements, ouch, followed by a breakfast of toast and eggs Nick had whipped up, also ouch). Soon, the two were walking out of their apartment and making their way toward the taxi they had called to take them to the airport.

“You alright?” Nick asked once they were buckled in the backseat. “You’ve been kinda quiet all morning.”

“Oh, yeah- I’m fine,” Charlie said. “Just anxious for the long flight, I guess.” Nick reached over to hold his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Don’t worry- I’ll be with you the whole time,” Nick said sweetly, before leaning over to give Charlie a peck on the cheek.

Things went by in a flurry once they arrived at the airport; they met up with Tao and Elle (who were still together) and Darcy and Tara (who were no longer together but still best friends) and Issac. The group bustled through security, got themselves drinks and snacks for the flight, and then found their gate. In what felt like no time at all, they were already being called to line up for boarding. Charlie was ever so grateful when they finally made it to their seats; it was only noon and he already felt beyond tired. 

Nick wrapped an arm around Charlie as the rest of the passengers continued boarding the plane. “You alright?” he asked. “You haven’t eaten much today- I got you a few snacks when I was grabbing myself crisps. I don’t know what they’ll be serving for dinner so I wanted to make sure you had something you would like.” Charlie smiled at Nick but internally felt bad. He wanted to reassure Nick that his not eating was not due to eating-disorder thoughts sneaking back into his head, but he didn’t want to give away that he was feeling less than 100%. 

“Thanks, Nick- that was thoughtful of you,” he said instead. 

The following eight hours weren’t great. The dry air on the plane was not doing any good for Charlie’s throat. He had been trying to spend the hours sleeping or listening to music to distract himself, but it wasn’t working very well. The others were all chatting, switching seats occasionally, but Charlie did not feel up to it and struggled to maintain a happy facade. Nick didn’t seem to notice, thankfully. Or he wasn’t commenting on it, at least. 

When the gang finally arrived at their tiny Airbnb in New York, it was 6pm (but technically midnight with the time difference) and all Charlie could do was crash down onto the nearest bed, face first. 

“Gee, who knew sitting for 8 hours could be so exhausting,” Tao teased, throwing a pillow at Charlie. Charlie grumbled but did eventually get up to change into PJs and brush his teeth. While everyone else was still running on adrenaline and excited to be in a new city, Charlie was too exhausted to keep his eyes open. Once he was back in bed, sleep overtook him within minutes. 

Charlie woke up the following morning to Darcy smacking him with a flip flop. 

“C’mon, Charlie, you’ve gotten the most sleep out of all of us, get your ass out of bed!” she called. Nick gave Darcy a look, not exactly fond of her smacking his boyfriend. Charlie just groaned. 

His throat was still sore, and he felt run-down in general. A tiny part of him wanted to tell Nick he wasn’t feeling well so he could go back to sleep. But he knew that if he admitted to feeling ill, Nick would want to stay back with him and would miss out on all the fun. Charlie was still determined not to ruin the trip, at least for everyone else’s sake. 

So he dragged himself out of bed and got dressed, taking even longer to get through his morning routine than he had the previous day. He managed to choke down a protein bar for a quick breakfast (as he had apparently slept through the gang’s morning donut run) and was out the door with everyone else by ten am. 

Their first full day in New York City was jam-packed. Elle and Tara had wanted to get as much done as possible while they were there, both touristy things as well as some more niche activities. That day, Charlie endured a bus tour around the city, went to the top of the Empire State Building, visited not one but two historical museums, and ended the day watching some random concert in the park. 

Charlie was dead on his feet by the time they were watching the concert. His friends were all slightly buzzed, drinking alcohol from a stand nearby. Charlie was thankful he was the youngest in the group for once. He wasn’t 21 yet, so he couldn’t get himself any drinks while they were in the states. It was much easier to not have to lie. Charlie did wish his friends would calm down just a bit, though. They were all so loud and energetic and he was feeling woozy just looking at them. 

“Hey, love,” Nick said, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist from behind. Nick’s body was warm and Charlie leaned into the embrace. “You’ve been quiet all evening. What’s wrong?”

Charlie looked up and gave Nick a small smile. “Nothing- just tired from walking,” he said. He then gave Nick a chaste kiss on his jawline, just for good measure. It seemed to do the trick because Nick gazed lovingly down at Charlie, all worry gone from his eyes. 

“Well, as soon as we’re at the Airbnb we can sleep for, like, ever,” Nick decided. Charlie giggled and rolled his eyes, then went back to leaning against his boyfriend. They swayed slightly as the music played. Charlie sniffled. 

The following morning, Charlie’s sore throat is gone. Unfortunately, it had been replaced by a stuffy nose and a horrible headache. His left ear was dully aching, too, and all Charlie wanted to do is go back to sleep. Nick was still asleep when Charlie woke up, so Charlie scooted over in bed to snuggle up against him. If Charlie didn’t have to sniffle every five seconds to stop his nose from running, he would have easily fallen back asleep. 

“You need a tissue?” 

Charlie jumped, startled by Nick’s whisper. He sniffled again and reached up to rub at his nose, cheeks reddening. 

“Sorry,” he whispered in return. Nick shot him a look, then managed to lean over and grab a tissue from the nightstand while keeping Charlie in his arms. Charlie took the tissue and ducked his head down, quietly blowing his nose before tossing it out. 

“Thanks,” he said, laying back down in Nick’s arms. 

“Are you coming down with a cold?” Nick asked. “Maybe we should stay back today so you can rest…”

Charlie pressed his lips together. There was really no point in lying now. “Yeah, I must be...but it’s not that bad. I don’t wanna miss anything, we’ve been excited about this trip for weeks,” he said, giving Nick a forced smile. It must have been convincing enough because Nick didn’t press the issue any further. He did force Charlie to take a dose of cold medicine he grabbed from a corner store, but that was it. 

Three hours later and Charlie was wishing he had taken up Nick’s offer of staying in for the day, though. After brunch and some shopping, the group decided to go on a boat tour. Charlie did his best to enjoy it, but he was shivering and sniffling pretty much the entire time. He knew he probably looked awful, too- by this point his nose was red and his eyes had dark circles under them. Elle came and sat down next to Charlie at one point during the boat ride, resting her hand on his leg. 

“Hey- we can all tell you’re not feeling very well,” Elle said softly. “I was talking to everyone and after the tour finishes, we’re gonna rest at the Airbnb for the afternoon. We’ve had a busy few days, we all could use a little break.” Elle smiled sweetly, but Charlie still felt guilty.

“We’re going to, whether you like it or not,” Nick said, smirking down at Charlie. “C’mon, Char- if you rest now we can keep your cold from getting too bad. This way you’ll hopefully feel better in time for the musical tomorrow.”

Charlie grimaced, remembering that they all had tickets to a Broadway show tomorrow afternoon. He had been incredibly excited and didn’t want to miss out. Nick had a point- maybe the extra rest would be enough to turn his cold around before it completely ruined the trip.

“Okay, fine,” he said dejectedly. He was stubborn and hated it when his friends were right, but he was exhausted and knew going back to the Airbnb was the right idea. By the time they made it back, Charlie’s head was pounding so hard he could hardly see straight and his nose was running like a faucet. It took him all of five minutes before he was under the covers and fast asleep. 

Charlie spent the rest of the afternoon napping and watching American television. Nick stayed with him, and the others came in and out of the Airbnb, occasionally popping out to check out a store or grab a coffee or a bite to eat. By nighttime, Charlie’s headache had finally disappeared and he had some hope that by the next day he would be feeling more like himself. 

On the fourth day of their trip to New York City Charlie woke up to muffled voices. He recognized Nick’s voice, and thought the other two were Darcy and Tao but it was hard to tell. They sounded like they were speaking underwater, or at the very least off in another room. Charlie slowly opened his eyes and looked around, surprised to find that his boyfriend was not in another room (or underwater) but sitting right beside him. Darcy was perched criss-cross applesauce on the pullout sofa only a few feet away and Tao was standing beside her. 

“Ah, there he is. Finally decided to wake up and start the day, huh?” Darcy teased lightly. “How are you feeling?”

Charlie blinked a few times, having to focus incredibly hard to understand what Darcy was saying. His ears, especially his left, felt blocked up and it was making it incredibly difficult for him to hear. “Um,” he started, before clearing his throat a few times. “I feel okay. Still waking up.”

Nick reached over to run his fingers through Charlie’s hair, then frowned. “You feel a little warm, love,” he said softly. Charlie shook his head dismissively. 

“Nick, I’m okay. I’m warm because I was buried under all of these covers,” he said with a smile, trying to ease Nick’s worries. He sniffled a tiny bit and sat himself up. He plastered a bigger smile on his face then, in order to hide how lightheaded he felt upon sitting up. Everything was spinning. 

“You think you’ll be up for the show later on?” Tao asked, knowing how much his friend had wanted to see it. Charlie nodded. 

“Yeah…might just stay in and rest this morning. Save my energy for it,” he said. That was a bit of a lie as he didn’t exactly have any energy to begin with. Curling up against Nick’s side, Charlie rested his head on top of Nick’s bare arm. He let himself zone out for a minute, his face drooping as he thought about how bad his ears hurt, how tired he was, how bad he felt. Due to his poor hearing and dissociated state, Charlie did not hear Nick trying to get his attention until it had been nearly a minute. 

“-arlie?”

“What?” Charlie snapped his head up to look at Nick. 

“I was just asking if you were alright. You zoned out there,” Nick said, now a tiny bit concerned. Charlie plastered on another smile and assured Nick he was fine, despite feeling anything but. 

Four hours, a hot shower, and one dose of paracetamol later, Charlie still wasn’t feeling any better. His earache had increased tenfold and he could hardly think straight. Everyone else was scrambling around the Airbnb, getting dressed and eating lunches and rushing to get ready so they could make it to the theater in time. Charlie was supposed to be doing the same, but instead, he was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, head in his hands, trying to will up the courage to go and tell Nick he wasn’t feeling well. 

Charlie finally made up his mind to go and tell Nick when he heard someone knocking on the door. Charlie swallowed back a grimace and stood, going to open it. Darcy stood on the other side, doing a little dance in place. “Sorry-” she started. “I really have to pee, I- are you okay?”

Charlie hadn’t even noticed that he’d started crying until he reached up to rub at his eyes and his hand came away wet. Darcy seemed caught off guard by the sudden tears, but quickly composed herself. 

“Charlie, hey, what’s wrong?” she asked, reaching out to place a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie choke back a sob, his voice wavering,

“I- I don’t feel well-” he whimpered quietly, the pain in his ear overwhelming. Darcy gave him a sympathetic look and guided him down the hall and into the living room. “Ni-ick,” she called out, pulling Charlie along by his hand. “Your boyfriend is ill- fix him.”

Nick looked up from where he was seated on the couch, eyes widening when he realized Charlie was crying. He quickly got up and made his way over. “Charlie, hey- I thought you were feeling better?” he said, wiping away some of the tears on Charlie’s cheek with his thumb. 

“My-my- my ears hurt,” Charlie managed to get out, struggling to speak due to feeling so horrible. He was dizzy still as well, and it was clear to everyone in the room that he felt horrible. 

Soon, Nick was sitting him down and trying to get a list of symptoms out of Charlie. Oddly enough, the only real symptom he had at this point, aside from a slightly runny nose, was the unbearable ear pain. 

“You probably have an ear infection, then,” Nick said, making a face. “We’ll need to find a clinic- you might need antibiotics.” Charlie looked up and quickly shook his head (even though it just made the room spin again). 

“No- we don’t need to go. At least not right now. I still want you to go and enjoy the show,” he said quietly. Nick frowned. 

“Uh, yes we do. You’re ill. And I don’t care about some silly show, I just care that you’re not feeling well,” he said truthfully. Nick gently rubbed Charlie’s back as he let out a few more quiet sobs. Elle and Tao walked into the room then, having just finished getting ready. 

“What’s going on?” Elle asked upon entering the room. 

“Uh- Charlie still isn’t feeling well,” Nick supplied. “I think he might have an ear infection- I’m gonna take him to a clinic while you all go see the show.”

Elle frowned and walked over to the pair, giving Charlie a gentle hug and fussing over him for a moment. Tao was slightly less sympathetic, ruffling Charlie’s hair and teasing him with a, “Are you ever not ill?” Charlie tried to glare, but it wasn’t very effective due to the tears still shining in his eyes. 

Once everyone had left for the musical, Nick searched for the nearest walk-in clinic and found one that was luckily only a block away. Luckily, Charlie had gotten travel insurance for the trip (something Nick had him do any time they traveled out of the country now due to his eating disorder) so their trip to the clinic was rather uncomplicated. Charlie waited for his turn, was diagnosed with a double middle ear infection (no surprise there), and sent on his way with a bottle of amoxicillin. 

By six pm that evening, Nick and Charlie were settled on the couch in the Airbnb. Charlie was dosed up on painkillers and antibiotics and was using Nick as a personal pillow, relaxed for the first time this whole trip. Shortly after six, the front door opened and their friends all piled in, loud and chipper. 

“Hey, you two,” Tara called out. 

“Hi,” Nick said. “What are you doing back so soon? I thought you were going to go to Coney Island tonight.”

“We were, but we changed our minds,” Tao said, setting a shopping bag on the coffee table. “We got some stuff for you, Charlie, to try and cheer you up.”

Charlie looked up, raising an eyebrow. Stuff for him? He didn’t quite understand why they would do that–he was the one ruining the trip after all. 

“You- you didn’t have to,” he said, frowning. 

“Of course we did,” Issac said. “You’re ill on holiday, we all feel terrible for you.”

“Look,” Darcy said eagerly. “We got popsicles, soup, a coloring book, this little stuffed animal that goes in the microwave- all sorts of cool shit.” She grinned and took out a small stuffed llama and handed it over to Charlie. “Figured you could use it on your ear.”

“Oh- we also got ice cream!” Tara cheered. 

Charlie couldn’t help but smile. He glanced up at Nick for a moment and saw that his boyfriend was staring down at him with a smile on his face. 

“You are very loved,” Nick reminded Charlie with a soft voice, nodding over at the table full of things his friends had picked out for him. “Don’t forget it.” Nick bent his head down and pressed a kiss to Charlie’s warm cheek. Charlie looked back over at his friends. They were all crowded around the coffee table, ripping things out of their packaging and arguing over which item Charlie needed first. They didn’t care that their vacation plans had been slightly altered, they truly just seemed to care about the well-being of their friend. Charlie curled back up in Nick’s arms and smiled lightly as he watched his friends banter, earache momentarily forgotten.

Chapter Text

Charlie couldn't really remember the first time he cut himself.

It was sometime during year 9, he knew that. It was after he had been outed. It was after the bullying began, after he had become completely ostracized from the rest of the school. He remembered back in year 7, and seeing a movie in which a girl slit her wrists and bled all over the bathroom floor. At the time, he had been horrified. Who would want to hurt themselves so badly that they were left bloody and, eventually, scarred? It wasn’t that Charlie’s life had been perfect back then. He was painfully shy in school and only talked to his friends, really. Students teased him for being scrawny and short, for not being good at PE, for being a “teacher’s-pet.” He knew he liked boys and that that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. He felt sad a lot of the time. But never enough to want to physically harm himself. 

Somewhere between then and now that had changed, however, and now Charlie’s body was a collection of shame-filled scars. Thin, light scars on his wrists and forearms, and  thick, raised scars on his hips and thighs. He didn’t really know why he did it. He knew it was bad, that it was wrong to hate yourself so much that you felt like you deserved being hurt. But even after a hospital stay and months and months of grueling therapy, he still found himself reaching for the blade on particularly hard days. 

Like today. 

Charlie sat on his bathroom floor, cleaning up from a recent self harm session. He felt guilty, shameful, as he methodically bandaged his hip. He felt better, his mind was clear. He was going to go call Nick and make plans for the upcoming weekend, everything was fine. 

Everything was not fine. It was now Saturday, four days later, and something was wrong.

Usually, when Charlie self harmed, he only needed a bandage for a day or two, and the wound healed within a few days. This time, however, the wound was still leaking blood and fluid with every bandage change and it was aching. Charlie’s whole body was aching, really.
Charlie was meant to meet Nick and his other friends at the movie theater, and he was dreading it, really. He’d had a headache all morning and knew that the loud noises of the theater would only aggravate that further. But he promised his friends and he wanted to get out of the house, anyway. His mom had been nagging him all morning and Charlie needed an escape.

Charlie feels incredibly run down by the time Tori drops him off at the theater, and he’s hoping to curl up against Nick and wallow in self pity. He thinks his earlier argument with his mum is the cause of his headache and he wants to be with Nick where he feels safe.
Instead, he feels immense guilt when he enters the theater and realizes that it’s Darcy’s birthday and he had completely forgotten. Luckily, Nick quickly said his present was from the both of them. Charlie would fess up to Darcy and make it up to her later, he vowed, and he sucked up how awful he felt in order to have a good time with Darcy on her birthday.

They end up seeing a thriller and Charlie is on the edge of the seat the entire time. He almost forgot about his headache as he watched the characters in the film. It’s not until he’s outside and waiting for his mum to pick him up that he realizes how awful he truly feels. He feels cold and shaky and his head hurts and he just wants to crawl into bed. He puts on a smile as he waves goodbye to Nick, who’s mum got there first. He proceeded to have to stand there, smiling, as he waited for his mum to arrive, as Sarah insisted on waiting until Jane had arrived.

When Jane finally pulled up, Charlie hurried into the passenger’s seat and closed the door. He was immediately blinking back tears, and Jane looked over, concerned.

“Ch- Charlie? Did something happen?” She sounded almost shocked.

Charlie gulped, and scrambled to get his seatbelt on, wincing as he did so. “Y-yeah…I’m sorry. I just- I don’t feel well.”

Jane frowned and reached across the counsel, placing her hand on Charlie’s forehead. “It’s weird to hear you complain,” she said. “You’re warm, you’re really warm. How long have you felt ill?”

Charlie let out a relieved sigh, glad that he had a fever to prove how crummy he felt. Oftentimes, he was feeling awful on the inside but his vitals were fine so his mum refused to admit anything could be wrong. A fever proved something was well and truly wrong.

“I had a headache before the movie. After the movie I realized I just felt bad,” Charlie said, voice soft.

Jane nodded. “Well…let’s get you home and into bed,” she said, turning to the wheel and promptly taking off.

Charlie frowned. He had been hoping for some coddling from Nick, but didn’t get any. Now he was stuck with his mum, who hadn’t coddled him in what felt like a decade. He sunk back in his seat and blinked back more tears, wishing he could have Nick to comfort him.

“Mum..? C-can…can Nick come over?” he asked in a small voice.

“No, Charlie, of course not, you’re ill,” his mum said curtly.

And that was that.

Charlie was despondent. He was feverish and achy and his side burned . He missed Nick but his mum had taken away his phone and laptop. Charlie was close to crying when he heard his door creak open and he quickly wiped at his eyes.

“It’s just me, carry on, snivel and weep,” Tori joked in her snarky voice. “Mum said you’re quite miserable. I wanted to come and keep you company, scoot over.” Tori playfully swatted Charlie to get him to move. Charlie winced and clenched his teeth together.

“Shit-” Tori said. “How did that..? Charlie..” Her voice deepened and Charlie knew she knew . 

“I’m sorry-” he started.

“No- No, don’t apologize. Let me-” Tori stopped and took in a shaky breath. “Let me see and take care of it. I won’t tell mum unless I have to.”

Charlie couldn’t argue with Tori. She was his everything for so long and he felt immense guilt for putting her in this position. Yet, he was more comfortable with Tori taking care of him, even more than Nick. He nodded.

Tori left momentarily, and returned with the first aid kit. She peeled back his bandages and cleaned his wound, applied antiseptic cream, dressed it properly, and gave him more fever medicine. “I’ll keep checking it. It doesn’t look too bad, I think you’re also just properly run down,” she said. “If I need to tell mum, I’ll only do it because I have to. Deal?”

Charlie nodded, as if he had a choice.

Tori smiled, softly. “Now, budge over. Let’s watch Twilight.”

Chapter Text

Charlie had been incredibly excited for winter break. His first semester had been a lot harder than he had anticipated. Adjusting to life on campus had been a lot harder than he anticipated and he hit a lapse in his recovery for a few months. He had managed to pull himself together in time for finals and was looking forward to a visit home, where he could finally see Tori and Oliver, and visit with Tao and Elle and Isaac while they were in town. However, just as finals finished, a stomach flu broke out on campus. 

Nick had been unlucky and was hit first, and spent his last day of finals ducking in and out of the bathroom between exams and getting his germs everywhere. Which was probably how Charlie ended up with it no less than 24 hours later, right when they were meant to get on a train. 

Nick was recovered enough by then to break into Charlie’s dorm room, scaring the life out of one of Charlie’s roommates, Edmund, who was dressed up in a surgical mask and gloves as he packed up his things to leave for home. Nick apologized profusely, then squeezed down the too-tight hallway and into Charlie’s too-small dorm room. 

“Hi,” Nick breathed, shutting the door behind him.
It smelled like illness in the room, like sweat and vomit and fever. Charlie was curled up under a mess of sheets, wearing one of Nick’s hoodies with the hood drawn up over his face. There was a bucket that Nick didn’t dare look in next to the bed as he navigated his way to Charlie. 

“Get away- you just got better-” Charlie said, pushing Nick away.. But Nick was stronger and he wrapped Charlie up in a hug, kissing his sweaty forehead. 

“I’ve gotta have some immunity by now. Besides, you visited me while I was ill, you probably got it from me,” Nick argued. He laid down beside Charlie as he hugged him, spooning the smaller boy.

“The whole school is sick, it was inevitable,” Charlie said, biting back a moan. 

“You good? Need the bucket?” Nick asked. 

“No- got nothing left,” Charlie mumbled as he buried his face into Nick’s shirt. 

That was a little worrying to Nick, but he let it slide for the moment. He put his focus on holding Charlie and offering what little comfort he could. Knowing it should only last 24 hours calmed some of Nick’s nerves.

Except, 24 hours later and Charlie was still vomiting every hour and not even holding down water. Charlie kept assuring Nick that he was okay, but Nick was basically panicking. 

“I texted my roommate Des, she’s a nursing student, she wants to know when you last peed,” Nick demanded. 

“What? Des? I’m not telling her that,” Charlie said, furrowing his brow. 

“It’s to see how dehydrated you are- tell me, Charlie,” Nick begged. Charlie could see stress marks on Nick’s forehead.

“Like…around lunchtime, I think?” Charlie said.

Nick texted furiously on his phone for a moment before looking up. “Des wants to know if you have a picture of it,” he said.

“What the hell? Why would I have that?” Charlie asked.

“Okay, fair,” Nick said, looking back down at his phone. Charlie sunk deeper into the blankets. 

“She thinks we should go to A&E,” Nick said. “You probably need an IV. It should help speed up recovery. It won’t be so bad, Charlie.” 

Charlie had frozen up at the mention of a hospital though. Hospitals meant vitals and vitals meant getting weight and Charlie didn’t know if he could manage to see his weight right now. Even if he didn’t see the number and they didn’t say it out loud, it would be on his chart and Charlie was weak. If he had access to it, he needed to know what the number was. There was a reason his weight was kept out of his files at the dietician. 

“Charlie- Char, did you hear me?” Nick was saying. 

Charlie blinked. “I don’t think I’m that bad,” he mumbled. 

“No offense Charlie but I think I trust Des’s judgment over yours. You don’t have a good track record, honey,” Nick said softly, sitting down beside Charlie. “We’ll probably only be there a few hours to get some fluids into you. Then you’ll feel a lot better and hopefully be over this bug by morning.”

Charlie wanted to protest, but he noticed the way Nick’s leg was bouncing up and down, a telltale sign of anxiety. A wad of guilt settled in his stomach. He knew Nick had some trauma around all things health and Charlie. It was really his own fault, for letting his health deteriorate so many times in the past. As much as he wanted to protest against the hospital, he owed it to Nick to listen. 

“Fine,” Charlie said quietly. 

“Wait, really? I thought I was in for a bigger argument,” Nick teased with a smile on his face. 

“I guess I feel really crummy,” Charlie said, rolling his eyes but smiling as well. 

The trip to A&E went about as smoothly as a trip to A&E could go. Nick had even asked that the nurses do a blind weigh for Charlie so he didn’t have to attempt to speak out about it. He was in and out in about five hours, with two bags of fluids in him and a prescription for antiemetics. This meant they weren’t getting back to the dorms until nearly 10pm, and both promptly fell asleep as soon as they got to bed. Charlie had hoped he would be getting a restful sleep now, but he was still crawling out of bed every few hours to vomit at first.. Nick crawled after him every time, holding his hair and rubbing his back as he puked. 

He was bringing up considerably less than before and was keeping down more and more fluids as the night went on however. He was also vomiting with much less frequency as the night turned into morning. He was able to get a few 3 and 4 hour spurts of sleep in.

Nick didn’t get up for the day until a little after ten. He didn’t want to leave Charlie’s side, but he needed breakfast and coffee, and knew Charlie needed something in his stomach as well. He carefully untangled himself from Charlie and snuck out of bed, replacing the space where he had been lying with pillows. 

Nick went to Charlie’s small kitchenette, and dug around the cupboards and fridge to see what remains he could dig up from the kitchen of a bunch of college freshmen. Nick got lucky, finding half a loaf of bread, oatmeal packets, applesauce pouches, and even a bunch of bananas with a few that were still salvageable. Nick whipped up a bowl of oatmeal with an applesauce pouch on the side for him and Charlie, made himself a cup of coffee, and balanced everything in his arms as he made his way back to Charlie’s room. 

Charlie had woken up while Nick was gone, and he smiled brightly when the door opened. 

“Miss me?” Nick grinned, stepping over the (clean) puke bucket and sitting on the bed. “Don’t feel pressured, but I made some breakfast. You can have a few nibbles and see how you feel.” He smiled softly down at Charlie, trying to be reassuring. He had to admit he was nervous this stomach bug may cause Charlie to slip again, but was relieved to see Charlie give a tentative nod. 

Nick got settled on the bed and helped Charlie sit, propped up by pillows. He balanced his own bowl in his lap and handed Charlie the other. Two applesauce pouches lay in between them. 

“Oatmeal? You hate oatmeal,” Charlie said. “There are, like, waffles and french toast sticks in the freezer. And you picked oatmeal?”

Nick smiled sheepishly. “I thought it might be easier. If I had the same thing as you,” he said.

Charlie’s throat tightened, and he smiled softly. “Oh. I- thank you. That actually- that really means a lot to me,” he said, voice small. 

Nick leaned over and kissed Charlie on the cheek. “Always,” he said.

Chapter Text

There were some days when Charlie wondered if he’d ever truly recover from his eating disorder. After his stint in the hospital in high school, he thought he would be okay. He would finish recovering at home and then it would all be behind him. But then he hit a relapse senior year of high school, when the stress of exams and uni applications and long distance relationships and arguments with Jane became too much and he dropped twelve pounds. But he worked with his dietician and therapist and gained back the weight and got back to a normal eating schedule. 

And then there was his first year of uni, when he struggled to adjust to his classes and peers and eating while living on his own. He found that it was easy to slip when his parents weren’t around to hold him accountable, as strained his relationship with them was. And so he dropped another fifteen pounds rather than gaining the so-called freshman fifteen. But he got himself admitted into an IOP program and he worked through this relapse and he came out on top.

Until came across his third year of uni and he hit another lapse, that turned into a relapse, that turned into a collapse if he was being honest. He had been struggling with his OCD more than usual; there was no external reason for it, his grades were good, his relationship with Nick was solid, he was in a good place. But he was having intense urges and, as he was no longer under the care of a dietician, he found that it was easy to slip. Charlie found himself obsessing over the numbers on the scale, the carlories he was eating, the number of steps he was taking each day. And before he knew it he had dropped a good 20 pounds and knew he was in need of some actual help. 

Charlie had managed to hide this relapse from Nick, how he didn’t know. He wasn’t eating much in front of Nick, but Nick had been stressed from student teaching, working to the bone and not having much time for their relationship. Maybe that was just unfortunate on Charlie’s part, or maybe he was using that to his advantage. He didn’t want to admit which one was true. But he was surviving off of only picking on dinner, and sometimes a snack sized meal here or there during the day. He was lightheaded most mornings, he was fainting more than he would like to admit, food nauseated him, and he was scared of coming clean to Nick. He had had lapses in recovery before but he had always been able to pick himself back up. But he wasn’t even interested in recovery this time. He didn’t want to change, he wasn’t willing to change. And that scared him. 

What actually scared him most took place on a Friday night, late in April. He was hanging out in Nick’s apartment; he didn’t live with Nick as he was still living in the student dorms (another reason it had been so easy to hide this relapse from Nick). He was planning to move in come the next school year, but was considering another year in the dorms. He wasn’t even lying to himself on why he wanted to do that. 

That night, Nick and Charlie were getting ready to go out clubbing with a group of Nick’s friends from school. Charlie was reluctant to go, but Nick had pestered and insisted, saying that his friends were all dying to meet Charlie. Charlie was nervous about socializing, nervous about someone else saying something. He was so anxious he could feel his heart racing in his chest, he could hear it pounding in his ears. His hands were shaking slightly as he did up the buttons on his shirt, and he was sweating. He was half-tempted to lie to Nick and say he felt sick so he could get out of the night. But he had been doing that far too often lately, and Nick didn’t deserve that. 

Blinking back dizziness, Charlie turned to face Nick, seeing the other’s lips moving. 

“-arlie, have you been listening to me?” Nick was saying. “I asked if you were ready to go….Hey, are you feeling okay? White paint has more color than your face right now.” He was trying to joke around to get Charlie to stop looking so…terrified, but Nick couldn’t hide the worry in his voice. He stepped forward and placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. 

Charlie opened his mouth, trying to speak, but no sound made its way out of his lips.

“Ten bucks says you pass out before you make it to the couch,” Nick said, placing his other hand on Charlie’s forearm, taking hold of some of his weight. “C’mere- why don’t you sit down right here for a moment…”

Charlie was seeing black spots so he could only do as Nick said and allowed his boyfriend to lower him into a seated position on the ground. 

“Sorry…” Charlie mumbled after a moment. “Just- just got lightheaded all of a sudden..” he said. But sitting hadn’t helped, not really. His heart was still pounding against his ribcage and he felt just awful . Like something was wrong .

“You really don’t look well Charlie…do you think we should maybe take a raincheck tonight and head to A&E…” Nick asked carefully. He wasn’t trying to jump to conclusions but…Charlie had a history. Nick wondered if he was imagining the thinness to Charlie’s face. Nick also wondered if he hadn’t been the most attentive boyfriend as of late.

“I…I don’t feel great,” Charlie admitted. “I thought I was just nervous but…I- it feels like a panic attack but- but I’m not panicking.”

Nick nodded, forehead furrowed in worry. “Do you think you can walk to my car? I’ll help you,” he said. 

Charlie wasn’t sure but he nodded anyway. 

He felt even worse by the time they made it to A&E, where a finger prick revealed a blood sugar level of 55 mg. Considering Charlie wasn’t a diabetic, this was even more of a shock and call for immediate action. The doctors brought out and dextrose tablets for Charlie to eat, and he stared at the sugary squares in his hand. He had no idea how many calories were in them and he was horrified that that was the thing he was most worried about in a situation like this.

“Charlie- eat them, baby,” Nick said. “I- It’s okay, they’re going to help you. If things…if things are hard again that’s fine. We can get you help. This…this is the start of that, okay?” Nick reached out and placed a hand on Charlie’s leg. “I’m so sorry I hadn’t noticed.”

Charlie refused to look Nick in the eyes, but he put one of the tablets in his mouth and chewed, then ate the other two as well. He swallowed, a single tear rolling down his cheek. 

“It’s not your fault. That…that I’ve gotten this bad,” Charlie said. “Don’t feel bad–please.”

Nick pressed his lips together. “Okay…but please, can you- can you just promise to talk to me. I know I’ve been busy but I didn’t mean for you to think that I was too busy for you-” he started to say. 

Charlie shook his head, reaching out to Nick with the hand that wasn’t currently having an IV inserted into it by a nurse. “Nick- this- this has nothing to do with you. No offense,” he said. “I’m the one who should be sorry for hiding it from you.” He was quiet, tired, still shaky and nauseous. “Can you just hold me?”

Nick was quick to climb into bed beside Charlie and wrap his arms around the other. Charlie melted into him. 

“I don’t know if I can just…get a dietician and suddenly get better,” Charlie said softly, once the nurses had taken some blood samples and were satisfied with his blood sugar levels and left them alone.

“What do you mean?” Nick asked. He knew Charlie had had relapses in the past but…he had always overcome them. He could overcome this one, surely. 

“It’s not like last times where…where I wanted to stay in recovery. I don’t know, I just feel…ambivalent? Like maybe this is just how I am?” Charlie said, voice breaking. “I’m sorry, I must sound crazy.”

“No, you don’t sound crazy,” Nick said. “Remember how your therapist frames it…I think that’s just your eating disorder talking…” He intertwined his fingers with Charlie’s. “I don’t know how you’re feeling exactly, I don’t really understand what it’s like to have an eating disorder. But I don’t think you’re crazy or that you’re doomed to be this way. I just think you’re sick.”

Charlie looked down at their hands, blinking back tears. 

“And you’ve been sick before. And you got better. Back when you were in high school- I bet you felt like you were just doomed to be the way you were then too,” Nick continued. “But you got better. Maybe this will be a little harder to get over than it was last time but…I believe in you.”

Charlie looked up, meeting Nick’s eyes. “I don’t know if I believe in myself.”

“That’s okay. I can believe enough for both of us until you do,” Nick said. 

Charlie still doesn’t feel good. But for the first time in a long time, he feels hopeful.

Chapter Text

Charlie was very much looking forward to the coming weekend. His parents were taking a long weekend to visit his mum’s sister in Essex, and they were taking Oliver with them since their aunt had similar aged children. Tori and Charlie had managed to talk their way out of going along, as it would interfere with school and tests and previous obligations. So, the two oldest Spring children were staying home from Friday afternoon until Tuesday night. They were both pretty excited to get a break from their parents.

With his parents gone, Charlie had (with Tori’s permission) invited Nick over for a sleepover on Saturday, after they spent a day together he had planned. It wasn’t too elaborate, just a picnic, followed by a trip to a pop up art museum. Afterward, Charlie planned to invite Nick back to his place where they could cuddle and watch movies and make dinner together–a perfect day. 

Which is why it made sense that Charlie woke up Saturday morning with his parents gone and a sore throat. Things could never be perfect. He passed it off as the dry air in his room, gargled some water, popped a cough drop in his mouth after breakfast, and got ready for his day with Nick. They were meant to meet up at eleven for their picnic so he had plenty of time to rest and for this sore throat to go away, he thought. 

Charlie stayed quiet that morning, only grunting when he saw his sister, and texted with Nick instead of calling or FaceTiming like they sometimes did. Charlie laid down around 9:30, planning to rest for an hour before getting up and packing the remainder of the food up in his basket. He had started to get a headache and was hoping laying down and drinking some tea would help it go away. By 10, he still had a headache and had chills now as well, so he threw on one of Nick’s sweatshirts, even though it was a warm 24 degrees outside. By 10:30, he swore he was starting to have a runny nose to top everything off. A part of him wanted to tell Nick and just stay in bed, but no, it was way too late to change plans, so Charlie forced himself out of bed.

Charlie packed cough drops and tissues along with their sandwiches and juices, but he hid the former in his sweatshirt pockets. Nick rang his doorbell a few minutes before eleven.

“Hi, Char,” Nick said, as soon as Charlie opened the door.

“Hi,” Charlie said in return, smiling and fighting the urge to sniffle. 

Charlie pulled Nick inside and gave him a hug, burying his face into Nick’s chest. Nick returned the embrace, lifting Charlie slightly off the ground and swaying side to side. 

“I know we just saw each other yesterday, but I missed you,” Nick said, chuckling. 

“I know–feels like it's been ages or something silly like that,” Charlie said, laughing softly as well. 

Nick and Charlie broke apart their embrace, and Charlie began talking about all the plans he’d made for their day, despite how much it hurt his throat. He had to fight back the urge to wince as his throat and his head were hurting something awful, and his arms and legs weirdly ached as well. He sniffled in the midst of his spiel, unable to hold it back any longer. 

“‘Scuse me- anyway, Tao was telling me the artist featured in this pop up used to go to Truham, which is really cool…” Charlie said, before he had to turn away from Nick to cough into his sleeve.

They were standing in the kitchen, diagonal from each other at the counter. Nick reached over and placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. 

“You look a bit peaky,” Nick said, frowning slightly. 

“I- I’m fine. I think I might have the start of a cold, but I feel fine, I promise,” Charlie said, backing away from Nick ever so slightly. 

Nick furrowed his brow, but nodded. “Okay, I’ll back off. But if you start to not feel good, you just tell me and we can change up our plans, alright? I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you.”

Nick squeezed Charlie’s shoulder and Charlie smiled. “Alright. Now c’mon, let’s go take this picnic to the park.”

Their picnic at the park was lovely. Charlie brought a book they took turns reading aloud to each other, although Charlie’s readings were interrupted by sniffles and coughs. He had packed sandwiches and muffins and fruit and crisps, although Charlie had a hard time stomaching them, even though they were all safe foods. They laid on the blanket together and watched the clouds to the soundtrack of a children’s football game nearby. 

On the walk back home to return the basket before they caught the bus, Charlie couldn’t help but drag his feet. His body was sore, like he’d just run a marathon. And he was having to hold back coughs because he didn’t want Nick to think he was being dramatic or something, but jeez, he was starting to feel positively awful. 

Nick had apparently noticed Charlie’s condition, though, as the first thing he said when they entered Charlie’s house was “Now that we’re back I think you should lie down, Char. You don’t look well.”

Charlie furrowed his brow. “But- how did you-”

“Charlie, you’ve been coughing and sniffling all morning. We can do the museum another time, you need to rest,” Nick said softly. 

“The museum is only in town another week…” Charlie mumbled. 

“Your health still comes first, love. Now, c’mon, I’ll make you a tea, you go on up and change into something comfy,” Nick ordered with a gentle smile. 

Charlie hung his head down and made his way upstairs. He wasn’t going to argue, not when he felt like collapsing just about any moment. He managed to get into sweats before crawling into bed. He closed his eyes, and the next thing he knew Nick was sitting next to him and sticking a thermometer into his ear. 

“Hey…” Charlie mumbled. 

“Oh, shush, we both know you have a temperature, I just need to see how high it is,” Nick said. 

Charlie stuck his tongue out while Nick pulled out the thermometer. 

“39.3- Jesus, Char, how come you didn’t text me that you were feeling so bad this morning?” Nick asked, worried. 

“I swear I wasn’t this sick this morning,” Charlie said, suppressing a shiver as he huddled under his covers. “Just a little sore throat, and the start of a runny nose. Now I feel…awful,” he admitted. 

Nick nodded, smoothing back Charlie’s hair with his hand. “I’m sorry, love…I’m thinking you might have the flu, what with how sick you are and how quick this came on,” he said. “I should probably go get Tori, see if she can get your parents? Or take you to a doctor? She just turned 18, yeah?”

Charlie nodded. “Yes, to all of that,” he mumbled.

Nick kissed him gently on the forehead. “I’ll be back. You just rest.”

Nick returned a while later with Tori, who had called their parents and gotten permission to take him to the nearest clinic, in hopes of getting some flu medication. Nick was, obviously, to be sent home. Which Charlie was absolutely torn up about. He just wanted to curl up in his boyfriend’s arms, not be dragged to a cold, noisy, crowded clinic. Still, he said goodbye to Nick with a tearful hug and was all but forced into their parents’ car with Tori. 

The trip to the clinic revealed the flu, and he was given a prescription. Charlie got home, ready to hide away in bed for the next day or days or week or however long it took to get over this. He was surprised to find, in bed and waiting for him, none other than Nick Nelson, sporting a surgical mask.

“Nick?” Charlie said, spluttering on his words and coughing. “What- what are you doing here?” he asked after catching his breath. 

Nick had gotten out of bed and rushed over to Charlie’s side. “Sorry, sorry- I know we don’t say that word but I just made you choke,” he said. “I texted Tori. She told me when you’d be back.”

“But- you shouldn’t be here. You’ll get sick–I have the flu,” Charlie said, leaning into Nick. 

Nick led Charlie over to his bed and sat down with him. “Well, I figured, I mean- half the school’s been down with the flu the past two weeks, I’m bound to get it if I’m not already infected from spending the morning kissing you and…well…what I’m trying to say is I don’t care if I catch it, you’re worth it, Charlie.”

“That is so stupid,” Charlie said, burying his face into Nick’s neck as he wrapped his arms around the other. That wasn’t enough, so he threw a leg over Nick’s lap as well. He shivered, body shaking, and Nick rubbed a hand up and down his back. 

“You don’t really seem to be protesting,” Nick chuckled. He pushed Charlie slightly so he would lay down, then covered him up with the pile of covers from Charlie’s previous lie-down. Once Charlie was sufficiently covered, Nick crawled in beside him.

“I’m telling you this is very stupid, dumb, idiotic. You’re bound to fall ill next…” Charlie said, laying his head on Nick’s chest. He was practically on top of Nick, arms and legs sprawled out on either side of the other. He coughed pathetically, earning a hug from Nick.

“This is a dumb choice made entirely on my part, you didn’t influence me at all…” Nick said, laughing ever so slightly. “Though you certainly aren’t making me feel bad about my choice.”

“Shush. You’re my pillow now. I need to sleep,” Charlie murmured. 

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Nick said. He pressed a kiss to the top of Charlie’s head and watched his boyfriend’s eyes flutter close.

And he was there, when Charlie woke up and when Charlie ran a fever of 37.7 degrees and when Charlie coughed all night and when Charlie was still sick as a dog the following afternoon when his parents returned home. Tori was there, too, fetching Charlie medicine and tea and soup. But it was Nick who Charlie clung to, fingers clenched in Nick’s t-shirt or wrapped around his arms at all times. He felt awful with his fever, close to tears at pretty much all times, but Nick being there helped keep the tears at bay. He constantly thanked Nick, mumbling, “Thank you, I love you, I love you,” in his fevered haze. Nick would shush him, but smile.

He didn’t doubt that Charlie loved him. He knew he was leaving for uni next year, but Nick swore he had never felt so sure about his relationship with Charlie.

And Nick swore he didn’t even mind it when he woke up 32 hours later with a sore throat himself.

Chapter Text

Charlie was not having a good day. He had a rugby match, which was both good and bad. Good because it meant he got to spend time with Nick, bad because the more he played rugby, the more he was convinced that he actually hated the sport. So, a rugby match, neutral, if the good and bad canceled out. It was hot and humid out, though, meaning he would be gross and sweaty around Nick. So, not so neutral day. And, he woke up with a cough and a stuffy head. Making it even less neutral. 

It wasn’t too bad at first, just a cough every ten minutes or so and the need to blow his nose every once in a while. By lunch he was coughing a bit more frequently, though, enough that Tao and Issac both asked if he was okay. He brushed off their concern. And by the end of the day, he was coughing every few minutes, his chest feeling rather tight. It reminded him of when he was a kid and used to get asthma attacks. He’d mostly grown out of it by Year Six, and he hadn’t bothered to get an inhaler filled in years because, well, it had been years since he’d last had an attack. 

Charlie mustered up just enough energy to change into his rugby kit, absolutely dreading the game ahead of them. They were playing a smaller school so he had hopes that their team wouldn’t be too intimidating, but sometimes small schools tricked you like that. He had just finished changing when Nick walked in, and immediately smiled in Charlie’s direction. 

“Hi,” Nick said, setting down his bag. “Ready for the match? I’m dreading playing in this heat.” He opened up his locker and began taking off his clothes. 

Charlie coughed, not on purpose, and looked to the side. He cleared his throat a few times. “Yeah, me too.”

“Are you okay?” Nick asked, looking over at Charlie. He was shirtless. 

Charlie coughed again, this time on purpose, so he had the excuse to look away. “Y-yeah. Sorry ‘bout that-”

“No s-word!”

“Okay, okay- ‘scuse me, I mean. I’m fine, just the start of a cold or something,” Charlie said. 

“Are you okay to be playing today?” Nick asked.

Charlie looked up. Nick’s eyebrows were knotted in concern. He looked adorable. He was shirtless. 

“Yeah- I’ll be fine. Might not go as hard as usual though,” Charlie said with an absent shrug. 

“Don’t overdo it,” Nick said, smiling softly at Charlie. He turned and slipped on his jersey. 

Christian and Sai entered the locker room, and they began talking to Nick about a history project they were all partnered together for. Charlie lingered in the background, taking an awfully long time putting on his socks and shoes. He was tying his laces for the fourth time when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“C’mon, Char, let’s go,” Nick said, smiling down at Charlie. 

Charlie suddenly found a jolt of energy, and he stood up and smiled right back at Nick. Nick had this way of making Charlie feel like he was walking on air, like he was in a movie, like everything was okay. And so for a moment, everything was okay. Charlie was still coughing every other minute or so, and the tightness in his chest hadn’t quite disappeared, but he was okay. 

Charlie followed Nick out onto the field, their arms brushing against one another as they walked. 

“The lads are coming back to my place after. Not a lot, just Otis, Sai, and Christian. Do you wanna come, too? You’re one of us now, and I’d really like to have you there,” Nick said. 

Charlie held back a cough. “Really? A-and the other guys won’t mind that I’m there?”

“I’ll smack them on their heads if they say anything stupid,” Nick said. “We mostly just eat junk food and watch movies or play video games. It’s pretty lowkey.” He bumped shoulders with Charlie. “What do you think?”

“I’ll come over, yeah,” Charlie said. 

Coach Signh blew her whistle, and Nick picked up the pace to jog to meet the rest of the team. Charlie followed suit. The team huddled for a few moments before another whistle was blown and they went off to get in starting positions. Nick gave Charlie another smile, and Charlie stood up a little straighter. 

The other team, it turned out, was nothing special. They had a few decent players but most of them Charlie could easily outrun. Well, on a good day. Today, he was struggling to catch his breath the more intense the game became. If intense is what you could even call it. Still, Charlie was coughing like crazy and had to take several breaks just to inhale enough oxygen so the spots in his vision went away. It was weird–he didn’t feel any more sick than he had that morning. But his lungs were a different story. 

Charlie had just stopped for the umpteenth time when one of their teammates, Percy, called out, “You okay, mate?”

Charlie gave him a shaky thumbs up, but continued coughing, unable to get any air in, it seemed. He closed his eyes for a moment and coughed harder, trying to clear his lungs from whatever was seemingly trapped in there. It didn’t help, and only left him more lightheaded. 

Somewhere in the background of Charlie’s coughing and wheezing and spluttering, a whistle was blown and people had formed around him. Someone’s hand was on his shoulder, and Charlie opened his eyes, still coughing roughly into his fist. Nick. 

Charlie looked helplessly at Nick, trying to suck in some air to tell him that he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop . But he couldn’t get any air in. He didn’t even realize it, but his coughs were no longer coughs but gasps, and his face was red from the effort. 

Another hand was on his shoulder, Coach Singh. “Charlie, let’s have you sit down. Do you have asthma?” she asked, guiding Charlie down onto the grass. 

Charlie started to shake his head, but then nodded. He hardly considered himself as someone with asthma as it wasn’t something that had affected him since he was ten. But this felt more like an asthma attack than anything else he could think of. 

“Do you have you inhaler on you?” Coach Singh asked. 

Charlie shook his head. 

“Is it in your locker? Where is it?”

Charlie just continued to shake his head. There was no inhaler, he didn’t even know if he had a current prescription for it. 

“It’s okay- take a long, deep breath for me, yeah? I know it’s hard, but do it with me–good. Keep doing that,” Coach Singh said gently. 

The other coach had cleared away the students, and came over, crouching down by Coach Singh. 

“Asthma attack. Can you dial 911? And see if anyone has an inhaler we can spare?” Sharing prescription medications wasn’t exactly approved of, but Coach Singh wasn’t about to let her student go into respiratory distress if she could help it. 

The other coach nodded and stepped away to take out his phone, doing as Coach Singh instructed. 

Charlie continued to try and take deep breaths, but it was hard when his chest felt like it was closing in. He hadn’t realized it, but Nick was still, sitting right beside him, their hands nearly touching. 

“You’re doing really well, Charlie,” Nick said softly. He looked incredibly worried, and if Charlie could breathe he would have apologized. 

Charlie tried to cough again, but it just made his lungs scream. He felt tears brimming in his eyes, and he was starting to feel scared. He couldn’t even clearly remember the last time he’d had an attack, it had been so long ago. Why would he have one now? Was it his fault for not having an inhaler on hand? He should have one, even though his asthma was near nonexistent it couldn’t ever really go away, right?

Charlie felt a slight pressure on his hand. Nick. 

“Here–just focus on my breathing,” Nick said. He squeezed Charlie’s hand as he took a slightly over dramatic inhaler, and let go as he exhaled. He repeated the motion again and again, and Charlie found it to be both soothing and making it harder for him to breathe for a whole different reason. 

After what felt like hours but what had probably only been a few minutes, the other coach came running across the field with a little red object in his hand. An inhaler, aha. 

“Here- it’s basic albuterol, should be safe to give, yeah?” The coach asked. Coach Singh nodded and held out her hand impatiently. 

Inhaler in hand, Coach Singh faced Charlie. She shook the inhaler and took off the cap. “Alright, can you administer this yourself?” she asked, handing it over to Charlie. 

Charlie nodded, and pressed the mouthpiece to his lips, muscle memory taking over. He pressed the button and inhaled, and instantly felt the start of relief. He coughed, his chest clearing slightly, and took in a big, wheezy inhale. He coughed some more, and felt Nick rubbing his back. Charlie waited about a minute before taking another hit from the inhaler, and finally felt like he could really breathe again. 

It just so happened that as he was able to breathe again, the paramedics arrived. Charlie sunk slightly against Nick’s hand, humiliated. 

“Oh my god- this is so dramatic, I’m fine now,” Charlie murmured to Nick. 

Nick chuckled softly. “Char, an asthma attack is kinda dramatic. Just let them check you over, they’ll probably just want to call your parents,” he said. He rubbed his thumb in tiny circles on Charlie’s back. “Don’t feel embarrassed–everyone is just worried about you, and anyone who isn’t is a douchebag.”

Charlie still felt embarrassed, but slightly less so. He wondered if any of the other boys could see Nick and how close he was to Charlie, how his hand was on Charlie’s back. But if he turned around to try and see, it would ruin this moment of closeness to Nick, so Charlie stayed put.

The paramedics did come, and they did do an assessment on Charlie much to his disdain. His oxygen levels, while slightly low, were not alarming, and he was breathing better with every minute he rested. He passed their other vital checks, and thankfully, the paramedics packed up their things and left, with the recommendation to Coach to tell his parents that he should follow things up with his doctor.  Coach Singh had already called Charlie’s parents and his dad was on his way, so Charlie was made to slowly get up and make his way back to the locker room. Nick was to accompany him. 

They walked back slowly, Charlie still coughing every thirty seconds or so. He was so very tired of the coughing. 

“You really scared me out there,” Nick said softly. “I’m glad you’re okay now. You’ll let me know how things go with your doctor?” he asked as they entered the locker room. 

“What? Oh, yeah. It’s so weird, I haven’t had an asthma attack in years ,” Charlie said, shaking his head as he pulled over a sweater on top of his rugby jersey, not having the energy to fully change. 

“Maybe it’s ‘cause of your cold,” Nick said. “Plus it’s really humid out today, that couldn’t have helped.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Charlie said. “How do you know more about this than I do? I’m the one with asthma,” he joked, smiling. 

“I’ve watched a lot of medical shows. My mum and I loved Casualty,” Nick chuckled. “But really, I’m just glad you’re okay now . I was so scared when you said you didn’t have an inhaler. You better get one after this or I’ll- I’ll get you one myself.”

Charlie laughed, which turned into a cough, which turned into another laugh. “Dammit Nick–I’ll get one, I promise,” he said, smirking at the other. 

“You better,” Nick said, playfully poking Charlie in the chest. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out front to wait for your dad.” Nick held out his hand, almost as if he were going to grab Charlie’s, then put down his hand at the last moment and bumped shoulders instead. 

“Let’s go,” Charlie said, bumping Nick’s shoulder back.

Chapter Text

Charlie never thought that at 26, a full grown adult, well out of university, he would be going to another treatment center for his eating disorder. But after his recent hospitalization after fainting at a birthday party at the zoo, he was being prepared to go to an eating disorder rehabilitation center. As a teen, he had been in a general mental health facility due to his self harm and suicide attempt. In college he had been in both PHP and IOP eating disorder specific treatment programs, but he had never been to a residential program. He was first hospitalized for two weeks where his heart and acute kidney failure were addressed, with the help of a feeding tube and IV medications. Even after two weeks, he still wasn’t fully stabilized but he wasn’t acutely ill and in need of a hospital anymore. 

Because of his medical complexities, his gastroparesis, his orthostatic hypotension, his fucking heart and kidney failure, most treatment centers wouldn’t agree to admit him. They finally found one, Nightingale Hospital London, that accepted him, and there was a bed open for him available right away. So, without even saying goodbye, not really, to Maeve, Charlie was packed up and driven off to London by Nick. Charlie stayed mostly quiet during the drive, but Nick was wonderful. He spoke about how he and Maeve would be taking weekend trips to visit him, and that they would be able to FaceTime or call every night when Charlie had access to his phone. He talked about how much he believed in Charlie, how he would be by his side every step of the fight, how Charlie had beat this before and would beat this again. And he talked about other things, too, the weather, a tv show he had been watching, a music class he had signed Maeve up for. He filled the silence. He held Charlie’s hand. He made things okay, for just a moment. 

Charlie spent a total of nine weeks in the hospital, where he made strides and had setbacks, and left feeling a whole lot better and also a whole lot worse. 

Charlie had been on a feeding tube for a total of three weeks, and for a while he hadn’t thought he would ever come off it. He struggled to eat anything the first week he was there, and was getting continuous feeds through his ng-tube. But he started to eat, and started to gain weight, and started to realize how awful his body had been feeling. He was so used to feeling sick that he hadn’t realized how sick he had become. As soon as he was no longer constantly lightheaded, he was able to make some positive associations with food. He started gaining more energy, started feeling less pain every time he had to sit on a hard chair. 

Charlie thought he would be motivated to recover for Nick, but instead it was for Maeve. After so many weeks away from her, with only a few hours to visit with her on the weekends, the guilt took over. He needed to try harder, to do everything the doctors said, because the longer he was sick the longer Maeve was missing a parent. 

In spite of all this, Charlie hated the weight he was forced to gain in treatment. He didn’t recognize himself in the mirror anymore. He’d had to buy a whole new wardrobe (as he had stupidly donated all his old clothes as soon as he lost a significant amount of weight). What would people at work say when they saw him? What would all the parents from daycare say? What would Nick say?

No, he knew Nick would never comment on his weight. But still, Charlie worried and fretted up until the day he was discharged from Nightingale. Until he saw Nick and Maeve there, ready to pick him up with a bouquet of flowers and a heart-shaped balloon. Nick let Maeve run down the hall to reach Charlie, and Charlie scooped her up in the air and spun her around. Nick made his way to Charlie, and as soon as Charlie was done peppering Maeve’s face with kisses, Nick leaned over and pressed a deep kiss to Charlie’s lips. 

That kiss brought Charlie back to reality. He felt grounded. Things would be okay. He would go home with his family, he would transfer to a PHP program close to home, he wouldn’t have to go back to work right away. He had plenty of time to cope ahead. He would get to see his daughter and husband every morning and every evening. He would get to sleep next to Nick every night. He made a vow to himself during the drive back home that he would never never end up in an inpatient setting again. He couldn’t handle ever being separated again. 

Back home, Charlie worked his ass off in PHP, working through every meal to eat as much as he could, and finish whatever supplement was given for what he didn’t complete. At home, Nick helped hold him accountable for meals and snacks. He always ate with Charlie, never pressured him but also provided support whether that be by playing silly table games to help distract Charlie or matching bites or even holding his hand during particularly difficult meals. Surprisingly, he made a few friends in the program, a young woman who also had a two year old, and another woman a few years older than him. They would chat during breaks, and he genuinely looked forward to seeing them every day. 

While Charlie was doing well with his food intake, his eating disorder was always finding new ways to sneak in. Recently, he had been struggling with hydration, weirdly enough. A voice in his head told him that drinking anything, even water, would make him gain even more weight. He had to eat, but he could limit how much he drank. He would have coffee every morning with breakfast, but only take a few sips of his water. At snacks, he wouldn’t drink any. At lunch, maybe a sip or two. When he got home, he would sometimes have a cup or two of tea, but he usually never reached for anything else. 

Charlie didn’t know why he did this, because he knew it wasn’t a good thing. The nurse was always telling him he needed more fluids after taking his blood pressure. The dietician was adding hydralyte to his water at meals and snacks. But still, Charlie drank very little. 

Recently, Charlie had been drinking even less. Every time he pissed, it burned . Rather than doing the sensible thing and bringing it up to the nurse, Charlie ignored it and instead limited his liquids even more. Less liquid to pee, less of a problem, right?

Things were fine, until the back pain started. Charlie noticed it while picking up Maeve one evening, and it continued on the next day and the next. Charlie took paracetamol and suffered in silence. One day, a Tuesday, Charlie woke up in the morning with a fever. He didn’t feel sick in any other way, but he had chills and was burning up. Nick woke up with Charlie early that morning, and immediately worried. 

“Your temp is 39.7, baby…I think I’m gonna drop Maeve off at daycare and then swing back to take you to urgent care. Does anything else feel bad?” Nick asked gently. 

Charlie grunted. Shivered. “Back hurts,” he mumbled. He was curled up on his side, and moving even an inch hurt. 

“Your back? Did you pull a muscle or something? That wouldn’t cause a fever…” Nick said, furrowing his brow. “Take this paracetamol and then I’ll get Maeve off to daycare early, okay? I’ll be right back.” Nick pressed a kiss to Charlie’s fevered brow, and then handed him two pills and a glass of water. 

It turned out going to urgent care was the wrong call, as they told him to go on over to A&E instead. They didn’t exactly say what they thought was wrong, but they implied he would need a scan of some sort. Charlie was immediately overcome with anxiety. Would he need another hospital stay? More time apart from Maeve and Nick?

Nick held Charlie’s hand in the sectioned off corner of A&E they were sitting in. They were waiting on an opening for the CT scan, but the doctors said they suspected kidney stones based on his symptoms and his urinalysis. Currently, Charlie was set up with an IV with fluids and pain meds. Nick was squeezed onto the bed beside Charlie, comforting him in all ways he knew how. 

“Kidney stones aren’t that bad…I mean, it’ll be painful, but most people can pass them at home, right?” Nick said, rubbing his thumb in tiny circles on Charlie’s hand. 

“It’s my fault…” Charlie mumbled, looking down. 

“What? What do you mean?” Nick asked, confused. 

“The kidney stones. I–I haven’t been drinking enough water. I’ve been…restricting in that way? It sounds so crazy but–the voice in my head just tells me that I need to not gain too much more weight and that, well, that’s the only way I can control it now?” Charlie looked up at Nick, tears in his eyes. 

“First of all, you don’t sound crazy. It’s the eating disorder talking, remember?” Nick said softly. He pulled Charlie closer, careful of his IV. “Do you think you can talk to your treatment team about this? I’m sure they’ve had other patients who’ve felt this way before, I’ll bet they’ll know what you can do to cope.” He gently kissed Charlie’s forehead. “This is just another bump in the road. It’ll be okay.”

“You keep saying that but–it’s taking so long for things to be okay again,” Charlie said. “Why haven’t you just left me? I–I’m no husband, I’m no father like this. I let myself get that sick, I wanted to be that sick, sometimes I still want it. Don’t you see how fucking broken I am?” Charlie was crying now, and while he wanted to pull away from Nick, Nick pulled him closer and he melted into the other. 

“I made a vow to you, Char, in sickness and in health,” Nick said, wrapping his arms around Charlie and letting him cry. “And even if I hadn’t, I would never leave you just because you’re sick. If you had, say, cancer or some terminal illness, I wouldn’t leave you. I know you think this is different but I don’t see it that way.” Nick used his thumb to wipe away a few of Charlie’s tears. “I wouldn’t leave you because I love you so much. I could never stop being in love with you.”

Charlie rested his head on Nick’s chest, sniffling. His sobs had died down. 

“Think of it like this…if I had an eating disorder, and was sick and needed to be hospitalized for a few months, would you just leave me?” Nick asked. 

“Wha- no, of course not, but that’s-” Charlie started to say. 

“How is it different?” Nick asked. “Seriously? Why would I be worthy of having support and you aren’t?”

Charlie furrowed his brow. “You sound like my therapist,” he mumbled. 

Nick chuckled slightly. “Good, I like her. Maybe we can talk more about this during a family session with her,” he said. “I know you feel like shit right now and the doctor could be in here any minute. But–I want you to know that I am not going to leave you, not now, not fifteen years down the road if you have another relapse. That isn’t something you need to be worried about.” He spoke firmly, tilting Charlie’s chin up to look him in the eye. 

Charlie made eye contact with Nick, nodded, and then buried his face into Nick’s chest. “I love you so much,” he said quietly. 

“And I love you,” Nick said. “I believe in you, still. I’ll always believe in you, no matter how many setbacks you have ro roadbumps you hit.”

And Charlie believed Nick.

Chapter Text

The first time Charlie noticed something wrong, it was his daughter’s first birthday. Nelle, their daughter Tara had carried for them, using both Nick and Tori’s samples, had been a welcome joy in their lives. After adopting Maeve, Charlie and Nick had continued to foster for several years, reunifying over a dozen children and sending a dozen more off to adoptive placements. They had never chosen to adopt any of the children in their care that reached parental termination, however, as it had never occurred during a more stable moment in their lives. It would be they were moving, or going through a career shift, or Maeve was struggling through something, and it never felt right. There was also the selfish want of a child who was free from trauma, something that affected Maeve, the pain of being ripped apart from a biological family, in spite of how young she was. And so, when Tara casually brought up the offer to be a surrogate for them, Nick and Charlie did a double take. After some thought, they sat down with Tara and seriously discussed it, and before they knew it, they had a second daughter. 

By one year old, Eleanor, or Nelle, as they called her, had a big personality. She was already very verbal, extremely expressive and curious, and brought Charlie and Nick so much joy. They had thrown a relatively small first birthday party for her, with both of their families as well as some of their friends. Tara and Darcy were there, as were Tao and Elle. Charlie and Nick were the only of their friends to have kids, although Tara and Darcy had been talking about having one soon. 

Charlie had a lovely time at the party, showering Nelle in affection and spending time with his family and friends. But, in spite of having a solid night’s sleep the night before, he was exhausted . He almost felt like nodding off during lunch and cake, and found himself sneaking cups of coffee in the kitchen throughout the party to make it through. 

That afternoon, after they had laid Nelle down for a nap and set Maeve up with some books, Nick approached Charlie. They were meant to be cleaning up from the morning’s affairs, but Nick put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. 

“Hey, Char? You look really tired, love. Do you want to maybe lay down for a nap while the girls are resting? I can clean up, you don’t have to worry about it,” Nick said.

“No, Nick- I can help, it’s fine,” Charlie said.

“Charlie, I literally saw you nodding off while you were eating your cake,” Nick said, raising an eyebrow. “Just go lay down for a bit, it’s okay.” He spoke softly, and leaned in to press a kiss to Charlie’s forehead. Charlie melted. 

“Fine…” Charlie mumbled, hiding a smile. He pulled Nick in for a quick kiss on the lips, then headed upstairs to their bedroom to lay down. 

The fatigue never really went away after Nelle’s birthday. Charlie found himself drinking more and more coffee, as well as energy drinks, just to keep himself afloat during work. Luckily, he had a three day weekend coming up where he and Nick were taking the girls on a trip to the beach. Laying in the sand and basking in the sun sounded wonderful to Charlie (assuming Nick wouldn’t mind chasing after the girls). 

That Saturday morning, Charlie helped get Maeve and Nelle ready, doing both the girls’ hair and lathering them in sunblock. He then changed into his own swimsuit, threw a t-shirt on, and headed out to meet Nick. 

“Ready to go? Did we pack all the food?” Charlie asked as he entered the living room. 

“God, Charlie, what happened to your legs?” Nick asked, frowning. He was staring as Charlie’s shins. 

Charlie looked down, surprised to see his legs covered in an array of bruises, all in various stages of healing. He was pretty surprised–he never really wore shorts, even at nights, as they kept their house pretty cool. 

“Oh–I must be bumping into tables more than I thought,” Charlie said, chuckling sheepishly. 

“You worry me,” Nick said, shaking his head. “Food’s all packed and in the car. We’re all set.”

Charlie smiled and nodded, then scooped up Nelle and walked with Nick and Maeve to the car. 

Their time at the beach was, well, it was okay. The girls had a lot of fun. Nelle loved playing in the sand, and Maeve, now six, was brave enough to go in the water for a bit with Nick. Charlie mostly stayed on the towel, lucky that Nelle was a clinger and didn’t want to play far from her parents. He was too fatigued to really get up and go in the water, or play in the sand, and he left the beach feeling bone tired and achy. He fell asleep in the car on the ride home, and had to be woken up by Nick. 

“Char? Love, we’re home…” Nick was saying softly, shaking Charlie’s shoulder.

Charlie peeled open his eyes. “Huh? We’re home?” He glanced in the mirror, looking for the girls.

“They’re already inside. C’mon, you can go lay down on the couch inside, yeah?”

Charlie was too tired to argue, and he let Nick lead him inside. He spent the rest of the day on the couch, watching Maeve and Nelle play around him, too tired to join in. 

A week after their beach trip, Nick approached Charlie after the girls had gone to bed. Charlie was sitting at the kitchen counter with his laptop and a mug of tea, doing some writing on his latest book. He was working on an adult fiction novel, about a time traveling man trying to solve a family mystery. Nick sat down next to Charlie, and placed a hand on Charlie’s knee. 

“Char? Do you have a second?” Nick asked. 

Charlie paused from his writing, saving his work and lowering his laptop lid. “Yeah, what is it? You alright?”

“I’m fine. I just…I actually wanted to know if you were okay?” Nick asked. “I just…you’ve been really tired lately, and you had all those bruises on your legs? And, um, I’ve noticed that you’ve lost some weight.” Nick spoke softly, trying to approach the subject carefully. “How has your eating been? I know we only really eat dinner together, so I don’t know if things have been harder for you at work or…”

“No- No, I–” Charlie started. “Yes, I’ve been tired lately. And the bruises–I don’t really know what those were. But, I’ve been eating fine. I’m not having eating disorder thoughts or urges, I’m not…I promise, Nick, it’s not that,” Charlie pleaded. 

“Okay,” Nick said. “I believe you, Char.” He placed his hand on top of Charlie’s and gave it a squeeze. “But maybe you should schedule a doctor’s appointment? Maybe you have, like, a vitamin deficiency or something. It wouldn’t hurt to get a little blood work done.”

Charlie pressed his lips together. “Alright. I’ll call in the morning and make an appointment.”

The next morning, he called his doctor and got an appointment for the following week. The morning after that, he woke up with a fever. Nick called his mom to take the girls and spent the day doting on Charlie. Nick made Charlie tea, fed him paracetamol, wet washcloths for his forehead, and held him close. The following day, Charlie still had a fever, so Sarah took the girls again and Nick spent another day taking care of Charlie. By the fourth day, when Charlie’s fever had yet to disappear, or even lower, Nick decided they needed to go to urgent care. 

Charlie clung to Nick the whole time, holding onto Nick’s hand while he got his vitals taken and had his blood drawn. The urgent care office was freezing, and Nick shrugged off his sweatshirt to give to Charlie. 

The urgent care doctor came back into the room after about a half hour, and didn’t exactly say what was wrong. He said they saw some concerning things on his lab work and that they wanted him to go to the hospital. But he wouldn’t say what was concerning or why it was concerning. That worried Charlie, and Nick. 

They went to the hospital, where more blood was taken and more doctors came in and out of the room. Charlie cuddled against Nick, feverish and achy and feeling awful. He wanted to go home, but he also wanted to find out what was wrong with him. Once they knew, he could get some medicine and go home, surely?

The doctor returned nearly an hour after Charlie had first arrived at A&E. She smiled solemnly at Charlie and sat down in a chair near his bed, and Charlie knew something was wrong . People didn’t smile like that when things were okay. 

“Hi, Charles, we have your test results back,” Dr. McLean said. “I’m sorry to inform you, but your test results indicate that you have cancer. Acute myeloid leukemia.”

Charlie felt his entire world stop when the doctor said those words. Shit. He was thinking he had an infection, an immune deficiency, he wasn’t thinking fucking cancer. What was he going to do? He had children, he had a book to write, he had a life to live.

Nick squeezed Charlie’s hand.

“Cancer? Charlie has cancer?” Nick asked, face pale.

“I’m sorry, there’s no easy way of breaking the news,” Dr. McLean said. “We have to do a few more tests before we’ll know what stage he’s in. I’m going to order a spinal tap and a bone marrow biopsy, to start, and then we should be able to know what treatment regimen we should follow.” The doctor gave the couple a sympathetic look. “I know this is a lot to take in. I have a few pamphlets here that you can look over while I gather the items for the spinal tap. Take this time to process the news, call anyone you need to. I’ll be back in about twenty minutes or so.”

The doctor gave Charlie one last look before standing up and leaving the room. Charlie remained speechless.

“Char? Are you okay? No, I know you’re not okay,” Nick said. “I knew something was wrong but I didn’t think…but it’s okay. Leukemia, there’s usually a high survival rate of that, right? And- and we might have caught it early.”

Charlie nodded, sinking into Nick’s chest. His eyes filled with tears. 

“No matter what happens, I’m here for you. We’ve been through so much together, we can get through cancer,” Nick said. 

Charlie had no choice but to try and believe him. 

Charlie’s first day of chemo was scheduled for the following Tuesday, two days after his fever finally broke with the help of antibiotics. Tara and Darcy were watching the girls, and Nick was accompanying Charlie, as expected. On top of the chemo, he would be having a surgery to place a port in his chest, and depending on his side effects from the chemo, he may be held in the hospital overnight. 

The doctors had told Will to expect the induction phase of chemo to be particularly brutal. They said it wasn’t unusual to stay in the hospital the whole first week. Charlie didn’t want that, didn’t want to be separated from his girls, even if he just spent the afternoons and evenings lounging on the couch or in bed. 

After his port was placed, Charlie was set up in a bed and hooked up to his first bag of chemo. The chemo was a weird orange color, and he felt sick just looking at it. 

“Do you want me to lay with you in bed or sit next to you?” Nick asked, having been standing off to the side while Charlie got settled. 

“In bed with me, always,” Charlie said, making grabby hands towards Nick. “I apologize in advance if I puke on you. You’ve been warned,” he joked. 

Nick climbed into the tiny hospital bed with Charlie, holding the smaller man in his arms. “I’ll take my chances.”

Charlie got comfortable, and tried to go to sleep. He was hoping if he slept through the chemo he would be able to get through the worst of its effects. He woke up after a three hour nap to the worst nausea he had experienced in his entire life. He leaned over the side of the bed and was vomiting before he was even fully awake. 

Nick was at his side, holding him up, and holding his hair back. When Charlie finished, Nick pulled him back against his chest. 

“I’m sorry–” Charlie gasped. 

“Shh, stop that,” Nick said. “I’ll call a nurse, you just rest.”

A nurse came in and administered antiemetics, and a few more came in to clean up Charlie’s mess. Charlie thought that would be it, but it was only the beginning. He was up every thirty minutes puking, even when he had nothing left but bile in his system. He cried, exhausted and sweaty and gross. It was probably the worst he’d ever felt. 

But Nick was there, wiping his tears and snot and vomit. He didn’t mind the grossness, he just wanted to comfort and take care of Charlie, in any way he could during this time. 

Charlie ended up having to stay the night, and the next night, and the next. He struggled with each and every side effect of chemo under the sun. He was nauseous and lightheaded and shaky and couldn’t keep anything down. He was fatigued and had little appetite and developed sores along the inside of his mouth. All in all, he was miserable and couldn’t even hide how awful he was feeling. Nick brought in Maeve and Nelle to visit, but Charlie wasn’t really up to doing much more than giving them a few hugs. When the first week was finally over and Charlie was allowed to be discharged, he was more than ready. Nick immediately claimed that they needed a movie day, and got Charlie set up in bed with Maeve and all their best blankets. He brought in Nelle, put on a Disney film, and climbed into bed with them all. 

Charlie still felt like garbage, but he valued this time with his family now more than ever. He soaked up every minute he got with Maeve cuddled up against his side, with Nelle crawling on top of him, with Nick running his fingers through his hair. For a moment, he could imagine there wasn’t a port in his chest and poison running through his veins. For a moment, things felt okay.

Chapter Text

For once, Charlie didn’t want to go to school. 

This year, he’d had near perfect attendance and didn’t want to ruin it. He liked getting to be at school with his friends, he was doing well in all of his classes, he wanted to be able to spend time with Nick. But this Monday morning, Charlie wasn’t feeling well at all. The first thing he’d noticed was a sore throat, that didn’t clear with water or gargling at the sink. He was also tired, exhausted really. It felt like he hadn’t slept at all last night. He couldn’t tell if he had a fever because he tended to always feel chilly. All in all, Charlie felt like crap and he almost wanted to ask his mum or dad if he could stay home. He decided to try his dad, as he felt he’d have better luck with Julio Spring. 

But Julio had already left for work because of course he had, so Charlie was left to either ask Jane or suffer through it. His mum was downstairs trying to get Oliver ready for school, looking wound up already. Charlie grimaced and poured himself some cereal. Maybe he could make it through the day. 

“Charles. You’re not eating,” Tori said, standing at the counter with her own bowl of cereal.  

Charlie was staring at his. His throat hurt far too much for him to handle the rough texture of Crunchy Nut cereal. Nor was he hungry.

“Charlie, you have to eat your food,” Jane said, looking up from where she was packing Oliver’s lunch. “You’re going to miss the bus.”

“Actually,” Charlie said, clearing his throat. “I don’t feel very well, mum. Do you think I could stay home today?”

Jane frowned and gave Charlie a once over. She put down her knife and stepped around the counter to place a hand on Charlie’s forehead. 

“You feel fine,” Jane said. 

“My throat hurts,” Charlie tried. 

Jane turned around and went to dig in a drawer, then returned with a thermometer. She wordlessly handed it to Charlie, who stuck it in his mouth with his head hanging down. When it beeped, he handed it back to Jane. 

“37.2. That’s not even a fever,” Jane said. “You’re going to school. Eat your breakfast or you’ll be late.”

Jane didn’t give Charlie another chance to argue, so Charlie choked down globs of scratchy cereal. 

The mornings carried on like this day after day. He would wake up tired, his throat would ache, he wouldn’t have a fever, and Jane would dismiss him and send him to school. At school he faked it, smiling brighter than he actually felt to ward off any concern. He was barely eating his lunches, a mixture of his throat hurting too much and his appetite being nonexistent. 

By Friday, Nick and his friends had started to notice. Charlie shrugged off their concern because, well, what could he do? He knew he didn’t have a fever so the best the nurse could do would be give him a cough drop. He just had to make it through today, then he could rest all weekend and be better by Monday, right?

“Hey, Char…” Nick said softly, after he had sat down beside Charlie at lunch. “Are you not feeling well? You’ve been acting off all week.” He wrapped an arm around Charlie’s shoulders and pulled him close. 

Charlie slumped into Nick’s side and rested his head on the other’s shoulder. “Not really,” he admitted quietly. “My throat’s been hurting all week. And I’m really tired…” He hated saying these things aloud, but it felt nice to finally admit it to someone. 

Nick used his free hand to feel Charlie's forehead. “You don’t feel warm…a cold? Are you stuffy?” he asked. 

Charlie shook his head, closing his eyes. 

“Maybe your mum should take you to a doctor,” Nick said. 

Charlie huffed a laugh. “Unless I have a fever I’m just being dramatic,” he said. “This is Jane Spring we’re talking about.” 

Nick held Charlie a little closer and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Well, hopefully I don’t catch whatever you have since you’ve been kissing me this whole week, you asshole,” he teased. 

Charlie flushed. “I wasn’t even thinking,” he said. 

“I forgive you,” Nick said. “But next time tell me you feel unwell from the start. Or at least find a reason not to kiss me.” Nick playfully poked Charlie in the side, then cuddled him close.

That weekend he felt about the same. His throat hurt, he didn’t want to eat, he had a headache now as well, and he was exhausted . But still, a temperature of 37.3, 37.1, 37.4. Never a real fever.

Nick came over on both Saturday and Sunday, and they just cuddled in Charlie’s bed. Nick squeezed into Charlie’s twin sized bed, allowing Charlie to lay on top of him. 

“We don’t have to talk, if you don’t want to. We can just lay here together until you feel like doing anything else,” Nick said Sunday afternoon. On Saturday, Charlie had tried to put up a front for Nick, talking about school and watching movies with him while still laying in bed. But on Sunday he felt noticeably more exhausted, and couldn’t bring himself to really speak. 

Charlie nodded and closed his eyes as he cuddled against Nick. He spent most of that afternoon with Nick not talking, just cuddling and napping and sometimes sipping the tea Nick would make him. Nick had to go home around dinnertime, but he didn’t leave without tucking Charlie in and gently kissing him on the forehead. 

“I love you. I hope you feel better. Please convince your mum to let you stay home tomorrow,” Nick said, hiding a frown. 

Charlie smiled slightly at Nick. “I love you too. You’re the best boyfriend in the world,” he said softly. 

Nick gave Charlie one last hug before he gathered up his things and left. Not ten minutes later, Jane was calling the Spring children down for dinner. Unlike last night, Charlie didn’t bother to drag himself downstairs. He felt way too awful. 

Tori appeared in Charlie’s doorway, frowning when she saw her brother. “Charlie…?” she said quietly. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Tell mum I feel sick,” Charlie said, refusing to move from under his blankets. 

Tori stood in the doorway a moment longer before she disappeared. Charlie closed his eyes and it felt like only minutes later Jane was there in his doorway instead. “Hey, Charlie,” she said. 

Charlie watched as Jane approached him, and took a seat on the edge of his bed. She reached over and felt his forehead. 

“You feel a little warm. Let’s check your temperature. Can you tell me what’s hurting?” 

Charlie felt his head spin at how fast Jane was going. It was like she was speed racing caretaking. He blinked, then said, “My throat hurts. Head hurts. Body hurts. I just really don’t feel good…” He hated that he felt guilty for saying these things to his own mother, worried that she would say he was lying when his temperature came back normal. Jane handed Charlie the thermometer and he stuck it in his mouth. Jane took it as soon as it beeped. 

“38 degrees. That’s a bit of a fever,” Jane said. “I’ll bring you up some tea and toast in a bit, how’s that sound? And maybe some lozenges for your throat.”

Charlie nodded, just glad he had gotten out of dinner. 

He spent the rest of the evening in bed, picking at his tea and toast and texting with Nick. He was worried he would have to really play up his illness to get to stay home the next day, but he was fortunate, if you could call it that, enough to wake up with a solid fever Monday morning. Julio was the one to check on Charlie, and immediately said that he wouldn’t be going to school. He came back  a little while later saying that he had made Charlie a doctor’s appointment that his mum would be taking him to. Charlie nodded, but wished it would be his dad.

Jane took Charlie to the doctor that afternoon, who took a strep test and also did a blood draw to test for  any bacteria or viruses.. Along with his sore throat, Charlie had swollen lymph nodes and a rash on his arms and chest he hadn’t noticed, as well as some swelling around his abdominal region, which he had noticed but was trying to ignore. 

Charlie was surprised when the blood test results showed that he was positive for the Epstein-Barr virus—mono. Who could he have gotten mono from? He knew that he logically didn’t have to just get mono from kissing someone but that’s what people were immediately going to think. 

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do except stay home, take paracetamol, and rest. There wasn’t any medication to get rid of mono. Charlie was just going to be stuck feeling this awful for weeks, the doctor had said. Charlie just about wanted to cry on the ride back home from the doctor. When he got home, his mum turned to Charlie in the car and said, “Go on and get into bed, I’ll be up in a bit with some medicine and tea.”

Charlie hated that she only acted this kind and caring when he was sick with something physical like this, but smiled anyway and went upstairs. 

For the next three weeks, he dealt with a mother who was almost pleasant. She brought him tea and pain pills and porridge. She let Nick (who had had mono in primary and was thus immune) come over after school every day for a few hours, which surprised him. She knew he was sick, and would be recovering for a few weeks more if the doctors were right, and she seemed to be letting Charlie use that as leverage. 

Charlie was laying there one Wednesday afternoon with Nick, wondering this predicament aloud. 

“She’s never this nice. She never wants you over and suddenly she’s all Oh, Charlie, how about you invite Nick over tonight? It’s so weird,” Charlie said, draped across Nick’s lap.

Nick ran his fingers through Charlie’s hair. “Maybe she’s trying to make up for times before when she didn’t take care of you as much. Now she finally can,” he said. 

“But why now? And what if I don’t want her to take care of me? I’d rather her let my dad or Tori do it,” Charlie said honestly. 

“I don’t know why now. But maybe just see how long it lasts. It’s clearly not the worst thing that’s ever happened to you,” Nick said. “I’m not saying you should forgive her for all she’s done in the past. This doesn’t make up for that. But it’s proof she’s trying.”

Charlie looked unsure, but he nodded. “You’re right that it’s not the worst. You get to be over every day. I’m so jealous that you’re immune to this. What are the rumors at school again? That I was kissing Darren Chaplain from Year 13?” he asked.

Nick laughed. “That and Gabriel Learson, Year 11. You’re busy,” he teased. Charlie groaned, and Nick wrapped his arms around Charlie’s waist. 

“I think I actually got it from Oliver’s class- I was visiting it the week before I got sick as a volunteer and apparently mono has been running rampant in Year 4 ever since,” Charlie said. 

“And Oliver’s clean?” Nick asked.

“Yeah- he’s been living with me and going to school and he’s fine. Mum thinks he’s maybe some crazy immune carrier and he’s the one who got me sick,” Charlie said, chuckling slightly. “She’s almost acting upset with him about this. How dare he be healthy when I’m so ill? At least we know Tori had it when we were kids, mum just sent me off to stay with our grandparents.”

Nick shook his head. “Your mum is…something else,” he said. “If you ever need to borrow a mum, if yours is ever being, you know ….mine’s always available.”

Charlie blushed. “I…I know. She’s told me as such. I’m lucky,” he said, placing his hand over Nick’s heart, sprawled across the length of Nick’s body. 

And he hoped that one day, Sarah Nelson would be family for real. He could only dream.

Chapter Text

The summer after Year 13, Charlie and his friends decided to go on another trip to Paris, for old time’s sake. They all spent their last month of school working and saving, and rounded up enough money for a four day long trip to Paris for the ten of them. They were staying in a three bedroom Airbnb, all crammed together on beds and pull-out sleepers and couches. They had a solid list of attractions they wanted to revisit as a group and a list of new places to explore. Charlie was excited for his group of friends to all be together again after a year with some of them being away at Uni. 

They’d spent their first day revisiting the Eiffel Tower, had pizza and wine for lunch, and were now jamming away to a French indie band playing a few blocks away from their Airbnb. Imogen and Sahar were swaying together to the music, Elle and Tao were looking through the bag of souvenirs they’d bought, Issac was licking an ice cream cone. Darcy at the front of the crowd with Tara, both of them dancing together with a small crowd around them forming. Charlie hung back with Nick, leaning against the blonde as he surveyed his friends. A part of him wanted to join in on the dancing with Nick. He couldn’t tell what the singer was saying, but the song was light and joyous. 

But, Charlie’s head was starting to ache, what he’d assumed was a combination of an active day and not enough water. So, he stayed back with Nick and soaked everything in. 

During the walk back to the airbnb to freshen up before their afternoon adventures, Charlie noticed that his vision was a little blurry. He rubbed at his eyes a few times, thinking he must have something stuck in them, but the blurry vision persisted. 

Charlie stumbled slightly, and Nick’s hand caught his elbow.

“You alright?” Nick asked. 

“Yeah–clumsy,” Charlie chuckled sheepishly. 

By the time they reached the house, Charlie’s lunch sloshed around uncomfortably in his stomach. He wanted to sit down for a moment, take a breath, not feel so upside down anymore. Charlie made his way over to the couch in the lounge and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“This hat is already broken, I got totally jipped!” Darcy exclaimed, waving her now broken sunhat she had gotten for Tara. 

Charlie winced at the volume of Darcy’s voice. 

“That pizza we had was so good, we have to go back there before we leave. And it’s so close to the Aibnb,” Imogen said. 

Charlie’s stomach clenched. 

“After this did you guys want to go to the Catacombs or the Louvre?” Elle asked.

Charlie’s head pounded. 

Nick sat down beside Charlie, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, Charlie…look at me,” Nick said softly. 

Charlie slowly lifted his head. 

“What’s wrong? I can tell you don’t feel good,” Nick said. 

Charlie hated how well Nick could read him. He was silent for a moment, his voice stuck in his throat. “Head hurts,” he finally mumbled, pressing the palm of his hand into his forehead. 

Nick looked Charlie over, frowning as he took in the way Charlie’s forehead was pinched and his eyes were squinted.

“Charlie? You okay?” Tao asked. 

Charlie knew his friend was being kind but the sound of his voice only made the pain in Charlie’s head worse. 

Everyone else started to clue in that Charlie was unwell, and a few others piped in as well. 

“You look really pale, Charlie.”

“Should I get the first aid kit?”

Suddenly, Charlie couldn’t take the bubbling nausea anymore, and he tore himself away from Nick and rushed off to the bathroom in the hallway. He made it to the toilet just in time to unchuck the pizza and wine and water he’d consumed for lunch. Nick was at Charlie’s side a moment later, rubbing his back and pulling his hair out of his face. Charlie hung over the toilet for an extra minute just in case, but finally the vomiting ceased and he leaned back against Nick. 

Nick turned, going to reach for a cup for some water, when Elle appeared beside him. She was holding a cup of water and a washcloth. Nick quietly thanked her, and took the items before refocusing on Charlie. He managed to get Charlie to take a sip of the water to rinse his mouth out, then wiped the sweat from his brow. 

“Hey, do you want a thermometer?” Tara asked, having gotten the first aid kit after Charlie started throwing up. Nick nodded, and Tara walked over with it. 

Charlie sat there quite pathetically with the thermometer in his mouth, just wanting to get out of the cramped bathroom and lay down. Preferably, in the dark, and away from all of his noisy friends. 

The thermometer blared and Charlie winced. Nick was quick to turn the offending object off. “No fever,” Nick said. “Do you think you have a stomach bug?” he asked. 

Charlie shook his head. Then instantly regretted that choice as waves of pain shock through his neck and down his neck. He let out a small cry of pain, which made Nick hold him closer. 

“Is it your head?” Nick asked quietly. “Do you think it’s a migraine?”

Charlie let out a whimper. Yes , he meant to say. Definitely a migraine . 

“A migraine?” Darcy piped in. “That sucks.”

“Be quiet, Darcy, if he has a migraine your yapping isn’t helping,” Tao said, earning him a light smack from Elle. Neither is yours , she silently said. 

Nick looked down at Charlie, studying him. “Do you think we can move you to our bedroom? You can lay down, I’ll shut all the curtains,” Nick whispered. 

In the background, Sahar shuffled around. “I have some aspirin in my purse, we can give him that and some paracetamol and caffeine and it should help,” she said quietly. “My mum gets migraines.”

Nick waited for Charlie to answer, but when Charlie remained quiet, he started to carefully pick Charlie up himself. He grunted slightly as he stood with Charlie cradled in his arms, taking in all the weight of the younger boy. He then maneuvered out of the small bathroom, careful not to bump Charlie’s head, and carried him down the hall and into the room they had been sharing. 

After being laid down on the bed, Nick made his way around the room, shutting all of the curtains and blinds. He was quiet, careful of even his breathing so as not to cause Charlie any more pain. With the room darkened, Nick returned to Charlie’s side. Everything in Nick wanted to scoop Charlie up and hold him close and kiss the pain away. But he didn’t know which of those actions would actually be welcome when Charlie was feeling as rotten as this. 

Charlie noticed Sahar and Imogen in the doorway, Sahar holding a few pills and Imogen holding a cup of tea. Nick approached the girls.. 

“For Charlie. Aspirin and paracetamol, and green tea. Should help with the migraine,” Sahar said. 

Nick smiled. “You’re the best,” he told them, taking the items with a quiet thanks. The girls both left, not wanting to disturb Charlie. 

Nick brought the pills and tea back to their bed and sat down beside Charlie. 

“Char?” he whispered. “Can you sit up for just a second to take these?”

Nick waited for Charlie to open his eyes, then held out the pills and mug of tea. Charlie hesitated, but slowly lifted himself up just enough so he could swallow the pills with a few sips of tea. 

Nick slowly moved himself so he was laying behind Charlie, holding him up. He held the mug of tea for Charlie and coaxed him into taking sips here and there, until the mug was finished and he allowed Charlie to relax fully against him. Charlie’s face was still scrunched up in pain, and Nick felt awful. He was just about to ask Charlie if he was okay again when Nick noticed someone else in the door. Tara. 

She waved and quietly crept into the room, holding an ice pack wrapped in a washcloth in her hand. She silently handed it over to Nick, then left without a word. Nick whispered a thanks and smiled to himself, in awe of his friends. 

“Charlie…” Nick whispered. “I’ve got a cold pack here. Want me to lay it on your head?”

“Yes please,” Charlie murmured, eyes shut. Nick pressed the ice pack to Charlie’s forehead, and moments later felt Charlie let out a sigh. The two laid there silently for some time, bodies melded into one another. 

“I’m sorry. You’re missing the whole afternoon,” Charlie whispered after a while. 

“I’m happy to be here with you. I’d missed you,” Nick whispered back. “We have many naps to make up on from this past semester anyway.”

“I’m about to make up one right now.” Charlie smiled faintly. 

“I’m right there with you.”

Chapter Text

Charlie hadn’t expected to struggle quite this much when Nick left for uni. 

Sure, Charlie didn’t think it would be easy. After becoming so close to Nick it was only only to be expected for them both to be upset when September came around. But Charlie had a support system in place; his friends, his therapist. He knew he would be able to call and text Nick, and that they would be visiting each other soon enough. He didn’t expect things to go south so quickly. 

Yet there he was, skipping lunch with his friends in order to pace up and down the length of the basement hallway. He glanced down at his watch. He just needed to get in 897 more steps before the lunch period ended, then his ears would stop rushing and his brain would shut up. 

The pacing had started back in early October, during a unit in gym Charlie, in retrospect, should have been exempt from. As they learned about nutrition and physical fitness, the class had not only had to log their food intake for a week, but also had to track their daily step count with their phones. Surprisingly, the meal and snack log wasn’t as daunting as Charlie thought it would be. He was used to tracking his food with a meal log for his dietician and this activity was similar. All week long as Charlie wrote down his breakfast, lunch, and dinner into the log, he reminded himself that he was under the care of a dietitian, what he was eating was working for him, what he was eating was good . 

Logging his steps was another story. In class, the number 10,000 had been thrown around. 10,000 steps a day was the key to maintaining physical health. 10,000 steps a day keeps the body in good shape. Of course, 10,000 steps a day when you’re a student isn’t the most feasible of goals, and Charlie was disturbed to see that his average daily step count was nearly half that number. So that week Charlie did his best to reach that number. He started taking walks in the evenings, his phone glued to his hand as he watched his steps go up. When he still didn’t reach his goal from his walks, he started pacing after dinner in his room. Back and forth, back and forth, just until the numbers got to 10,000.

Charlie never did anything halfway, and after his week of success he vowed to keep it up. 10,000 steps a day, it was manageable, it was attainable, it was healthy. He kept up with his daily walks, kept pacing in his room after dinner. Sometimes, he went past the number 10,000 and when that happened Charlie would feel lighter, happier. He was successful, he was good. 

One day, Charlie took it a step further and walked to school. Truham was a good five miles from home, meaning it took Charlie over an hour and a half of walking to get there. He had left early, lied to his mom about a study group, and made the long trek to school, staring at his phone screen. He was shocked to see that in just the time it had taken him to walk to school, he had surpassed 11,000 steps. And it wasn’t even eight am. 

From that day on, Charlie continued walking to school, even in the rain, keeping up with his lie of catching the bus early to attend a before-school study group. He even came up with names of students in the group, a mix of kids his parents had heard about before and some made up ones, to back up his lie. He continued going for walks in the evening, and pacing after dinner. Charlie’s step count easily went from 10,000 to 20,000 a day. And yet, it wasn’t enough. 

Mid-November, when it became too cold and wet for Charlie to reasonably walk to school every day, he started skipping lunch. He would go down to the basement, where all the art and music classes were held. There was one corridor in particular that never saw foot traffic, so Charlie claimed it as his own. Back and forth along the long, dimly lit hallway, Charlie paced. 6,00 steps could be done in an hour if he walked fast enough. Then another 10,000 during his evening walk, and another 6,000 or so could be done after dinner. He could still reach the number 20,000, it was still attainable. 

By December, every ounce of Charlie’s being seemed to go into pacing. He would wake up early, spend an hour pacing back and forth in his small room. An hour of pacing at lunch, a two hour walk after school, sometimes another two or three hours of pacing in his room before bed. When he wasn’t pacing, he was thinking about ways to move. He would rapidly bounce his leg in class, stand when he could rather than sit. If he wasn’t actively moving he felt bad, wrong , like he was failing at staying healthy. 

As Charlie glanced down at his phone, he smiled. 400 steps to go. 

Of course, Charlie’s friends had noticed. At first they had pestered him about lunch. Where are you going during lunch? Why won’t you sit with us? Are you eating? Charlie brushed off all their concern, telling a lie about meeting with a teacher for extra help with his physics class. His friends bought this the first week, but he could tell they had become skeptical of his lie after a few weeks passed. But, they stopped asking, and Charlie stopped worrying. He had things under control.

Charlie glanced down at his phone again. 300 steps left. He lifted his head up as he walked and was suddenly hit with a wave of dizziness. He continued pacing, hoping for the dizziness to pass, but it only intensified. Charlie stopped his steps, breathing in and out through his nose in shallow pants. The edges of his vision were fading and Charlie found himself bracing a wall to keep himself from falling. He slowly lowered himself to the ground and held his head in his hands. His vision was black.

Charlie remained sitting down for several minutes, waiting for his vision to return and for the rushing in his head to disappear. He thought he was going to surely lose consciousness but slowly but surely, the dizziness passed and Charlie was able to lift his head up. He sat there for a moment longer, fists clenched. 

And then he got up, and continued pacing. 

Nick was set to return home from uni in one day and Charlie couldn’t be more anxious. Nick was looking forward to a few weeks of lazing around the house, watching films and cuddling and having picnics and dinner dates. Charlie had gotten into a routine by this point. Pace, school, pace, school, pace, dinner, pace, bed. While Charlie had at first been excited for the break from school, excited for the ample free time he was about to have, it hit him that things would have to change if he didn’t want Nick to notice what was up. 

Charlie feigned excitement in his calls and texts to Nick. He was excited to see Nick, really. But his thoughts were obsessive, and he found himself coming up with excuses he could use to not see Nick. He could feign a stomach bug, but that would only get him out of seeing Nick for a day or two. He could lie and say he was going to visit family over the holiday. But they lived close; Nick would eventually run into him on his walks or while he was out with his family. 

Eventually, Charlie came to the conclusion that he would have to stop pacing. At least to the extent he had been engaging in the behavior previously. And at first, things were okay. 

Charlie was so wrapped up in being with his boyfriend that pacing slipped his mind the first two days Nick was home. He spent the days cuddled up in Nick’s bed, talking about the last few months they had spent apart and kissing and watching films. He had to pry himself off Nick at the end of the days to go home, and would go to bed as soon as he was in his room just so he could wake up and start his day with Nick all over again. 

But when Charlie checked in on his health app, he saw the drastic decline in his daily step intake and panicked. He started going over to Nick’s later in the day, so he could fit in one, two, three hours of pacing before their day began. He started leaving earlier, just before dinner, so he could shut himself up in his room and pace some more. Some days he would say Jane was being Jane and he could only hang out for an hour or so. One day, he did in fact feign a stomach bug and got in over 50,000 steps that day just within the four walls of his bedroom. 

Charlie was naive to think Nick wouldn’t notice. One Thursday night, as Charlie was preparing to leave Nick’s, Nick caught his hand and stopped him in his tracks. 

“Wait a minute–can we talk?” Nick said. 

Charlie’s stomach dropped. 

“Y-yeah. What is it?” he asked, smiling. 

“Sit?” Nick gave Charlie a soft look and patted the bed beside him. Charlie sat down. “I don’t want you to freak out or anything. I just–how are you doing?”

Charlie smiled again. “I’m good, Nick. I’m great, now that you’re back in town.”

“But are you really?” Nick pressed again. “I know you’ve been saying things are good and you’ve seemed happy but…you’re not really acting like yourself.” Nick reached over and placed his hand on Charlie’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You’ve been…withdrawing? And not just from me, I talked to Tao and Issac, and they said you’d really shut them out by the end of the semester.”

Charlie tensed. So Nick had been going behind his back, talking to his friends? No, that wasn’t fair, they were Nick’s friends too. He stayed silent. 

“And I’ve noticed, well, you’ve lost some weight,” Nick said. 

At that, Charlie lit up. It’s working , he thought. 

“I don’t love the way you just smiled when I said that,” Nick mumbled. 

“It’s not what you think,” Charlie said, looking up at Nick. 

“Have you been skipping meals?” Nick asked. 

“I…” Charlie faltered. He wanted to lie, but he just couldn’t. Not after everything he’d put Nick through before. “A few…”

“Have you talked to your therapist about it?” Nick asked. Charlie shook his head, looking down. 

“It’s….it’s different this time. I- I’m still eating dinners, I just- haven’t had time for lunches,” Charlie said quietly. 

“Charlie…” Nick said. “I know it’s hard to reach out for help. But I’m worried about you—we’re all worried about you. I don’t want things to get bad again.”

How do I tell him things are already bad, Charlie wondered. His voice was stuck in his throat. 

“I can help you talk to your parents, or Geoff. We can write it all down again. We can get through this Charlie. But you have to take the first step.”

Charlie finally lifted his head up, eyes red and slightly watery. 

“Nick…” he said, voice tight. “I need help.”

Chapter Text

It started, like always, with a stuffy nose. 

It snowed for the first time that season and like clockwork, Charlie woke up the next morning with a stuffed up nose. He wasn’t surprised, just annoyed. He had a big writing deadline to finish for his editor at the end of the month and needed to get working on it. He had been planning on waking up early and getting some serious work completed that day, yet, all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and cuddle with Nick. 

Speaking of Nick, Charlie could already hear him in the kitchen, singing to himself as he bustled around the kitchen preparing breakfast. Charlie smiled to himself and swiped at his running nose, then got up and followed the sound of Nick’s voice. 

Nick looked up as he heard Charlie shuffle into the kitchen. “ Good morning ,” he sung out gently, giving Charlie a smile. 

“Good mbor’ding,” Charlie said, failing to hide his congestion. 

Nick gave Charlie a look. “Are you ill? It’s freezing out, you should rest today,” he said. 

Charlie shook his head. “It’s just a cold. I have to ged to the office today. I have a beed’ing with by editor today,” he said, before sniffling and rubbing at his nose. 

Nick sighed. “Well. At least eat some breakfast and take some tea with you. And a pack of tissue maybe,” he said. He finished up the crepes he had been cooking, while Charlie shuffled over to the counter and started on some tea for himself. 

Suddenly, he felt a kiss on his cheek. 

“Love you, snuffles,” Nick said, smiling sweetly. 

Charlie giggled and wrapped Nick up in a hug. 

Charlie proceeded to remain stuffy for the next two days, before his congestion shifted down to his chest and caused him to start coughing. At first, it was only an occasional thing, to clear his throat. By day five of his cold, however, Charlie’s coughing was incessant, and he could no longer focus on his writing as he was coughing every five or ten seconds. He’d started to run a fever as well, as was evident by his constant chills and sweaty limbs. Overall, Charlie felt miserable and was more than glad that Nick decided to call off of work to stay home with him. 

“It’s Friday, and my students aren’t doing anything important anyway,” Nick said as he crawled back into bed with Charlie. “Besides, you need some love. This cold of yours is just awful,” he cooed. Nick wrapped his arms around Charlie while Charlie cleared his throat, which triggered a short coughing fit. 

Charlie relaxed in Nick’s arms and snuggled up close. “I’m glad you’re here,” he croaked out, before coughing a few more times. 

Nick rubbed Charlie’s arm gently, trying to offer him some comfort. “Now, which movie shall I present to you today? Are you feeling cult classic? Marvel?” he teased, hoping to earn a whine out of his fiancé. Charlie just let out a congested exhale in response, earning a worried look from Nick. 

“Hey…you’re really feeling like shit, aren’t you?” Nick said softly, cupping Charlie’s face with his hand. He frowned at the warmth. 

Charlie sniffled and nodded lethargically. “Yeah…sorry, we can’d watch whatever. I’m just so tired,” he said, before breaking out into another fit of wet, phlegmy coughs. 

Nick frowned and shook his head. “No, I think we should get you to a doctor, Char,” he said seriously. “I’ve known you long enough to know that once your cough starts sounding like this, you usually need antibiotics.” 

Charlie eventually agreed with Nick and dragged his tired and aching body to the walk-in clinic. There, a medical practitioner listened to his lungs and deemed him sick with none other than a cold before sending him on his way. No antibiotics, nothing. Charlie was feverish, but only right around 38 degrees so not concerningly so. Surprisingly, the doctor said he wasn’t wheezing, even though Charlie’s chest felt tight and tickly and full. Charlie left feeling even more miserable, as he had wasted his and Nick’s time and only got verbal confirmation that he was being a big baby about his seasonal cold. 

Nick was frustrated with the lack of proper diagnosis at the clinic. He was sure Charlie had some sort of infection brewing. But instead they were being sent home told to try over the counter decongestants and cough syrup. 

Charlie spent the weekend in bed, and miraculously started to feel better by Monday. He still had a slight temperature, but it was borderline and he seemed a lot better, aside from his lingering cough. Nick pushed back his worry so he could focus on teaching his rowdy students, who were all ready for Christmas vacation. Nick’s week passed by quickly, consisting of arts and crafts for parents, handmade gifts from students, worksheets, choir concerts, and, in Charlie’s case, coughing fits. 

Charlie had returned to work on Tuesday, hiding his coughs with lozenges and tea, but he still sounded awful. His chest rattled every time he coughed, and he was so congested his consonants sounded permanently muffled. The couple was due to drive back home to visit Sarah and Charlie’s parents for the holidays, but Nick had half a mind to just wrap Charlie up in their comforter and call off Christmas for the year. 

Charlie moved his fork back and forth on his plate, sniffling wetly. “Can I be all done?” he asked. “I’m tired, and I want to get some sleep in an actual bed before we’re ind the car all mbornding.”

Nick frowned. “You didn’t eat much…can you have a few more bites?” he asked. 

Charlie sniffled again, then turned his head aside to cough. “Dnot dnow…by throat is sore. I promise, i’ll try and eat bore ind the mbornding.” He leaned in and pecked Nick on the cheek. “Love you.”

Charlie trudged off down the hall, sniffling and coughing as he made his way to bed. For the countless night in a row, Nick finished up dinner alone. 

Nick went to bed early that night, for the same reason as Charlie. He was woken up rather abruptly early in the morning, however, by Charlie coughing up a lung. The younger man was sitting up next to Nick, hunched over and gasping for air as he hacked up strings up phlegm. 

Nick’s body worked on autopilot;  he was turning on a lamp and guiding Charlie to the bathroom before he was even aware of what time it was. Charlie continued to cough over the toilet before he finally vomited his meager dinner up. He panted and squeezed his eyes shut, nearly smashing his face against the toilet seat if it weren’t for Nick catching him. 

“Hey- woah- are you okay? Can you breathe?” Nick asked, internally panicking. 

“I- Yeah,” Charlie gasped, wheezing softly. 

“Okay, well, we are gonna go to A&E. That scared the shit out of me,” Nick said.

Charlie couldn’t even argue, because it had scared the shit out of him as well. He let Nick wash his face off with a cloth, and dress him in a jumper and knit socks, and guide him into the passenger seat of their car. He was achy and exhausted and kept coughing every five seconds it seemed. He was sure he was running a fever again. He wasn’t quite aware of the passing of time but the next thing he knew he was in the hospital waiting room and then he was in a wheelchair and then a bed. A mask was strapped to his face and for a second he could breathe better, but then he coughed again and couldn’t catch his breath. 

Charlie would rather forget what it felt like being intubated, but the look in his eyes must have told Nick everything because he was quickly given enough meds to sedate him into oblivion.