Unwilling Patient ((Open))

[Arthur Kirkland]

((This is open to either one or two people as Arthur's roommates. If you want to join as a third person just jump in when you're ready.))


The last thing that Arthur wanted was to go to hospital. He’d been there too many times that year already. In fact, the last thing that he really wanted was to be sick in the first place, and he’d been doing his best to refuse to believe it. It hadn’t been so bad for the first day or so while he was in stage one, but stage two had hit him hard. Swaying, he forced himself up. He needed to go to the shops, needed to get something in or Alfred would kill him. He struggled to get dressed, having to rebutton his shirt a couple of times before he managed to get it straight, and almost left the house first without his wallet, and then without his phone. Eventually he managed to leave and headed off in the direction of the shops.

The last time he’d felt so light headed was just before he was taken into hospital last time, so he really should have realised, but he carried on anyway, determined to do this. Arthur made it to the shops, but then finally fainted in the store. He came round to a worried crowd of people around him; a crowd that cleared within seconds when he curled in on himself to cough. The next half an hour was chaotic for one so ill, and despite his weak protests, Arthur was bundled up into an ambulance and sent off to the hospital. He was not happy about this at all and complained the whole way there, and even more so when they reached the hospital, insisting that he’d be better off at home. He didn’t want to be stuck in hospital, surrounded by the dead and dying! He hated it here.

When he found out that he’d have to share a room, Arthur became even more angry, protesting until he had a coughing fit that laid him out. The nurses took advantage of his weakness to wheel him into a room and rig him up to a drip. Dazed, Arthur couldn’t do much than let out a complaining noise as he was tucked into the clean bed. He was dimly aware of the nurses trying to introduce him to his roommate, but didn’t manage to catch their name. Only once the nurses were gone did he finally force himself up into a sitting position. Still weak and dazed, but otherwise not too bad for someone in stage two, he glanced around, taking the room in first. It was clean and white; boring. There weren’t even flowers on the window sill like there had been last time he was stuck here, but Arthur supposed that the nurses were too busy for that.

Finally his piercing green eyes fell on his roommate and he narrowed them, looking cross. He didn’t want to be here, and he didn’t want to be sharing, and the unfortunate person that he was sharing with would have to bear the brunt of that. “So. We’re going to be sharing.” He said, bitterly.

[Feliciano Vargas]

Feliciano was pleased to say that his very first experience with going to the hospital was going splendidly!

When he'd first learned that a lot of people were getting ill at the same time, Feliciano had wandered down to the hospital to take a look at the crowds. It was very odd, what sick people were like! Even though the nurses kept sending him back outside whenever they saw him visiting people in random rooms, Feliciano was still pleased to say that he thought hospitals were very interesting!

...But then one day he'd gotten a hot feeling in his head and his throat had started to hurt. That wasn't fun at all, and he couldn't cool off no matter how much ice cream he ate...and he'd eaten lots of ice cream, which gave Feliciano a tummyache that made him feel even worse than the soreness in his throat did.

It wasn't until he'd gone back to the hospital and asked the nurses about his unusual situation (they seemed to be tired all the time when Feliciano visited, sighing a whole lot...but even tired, they were still so cute in their white uniforms!) that Feliciano discovered the reason for his unhappy condition: he was sick too! The nurses were even nice enough to let Feliciano sleep at the hospital in a nice, warm bed alongside some of the other people who were also sick! Thus, Feliciano had been staying in the hospital for a little bit now...he hoped his head and throat would stop hurting soon.

Feliciano's roommates over the last few days were usually nice - he'd been through a few now, as people either got better and went home, or occasionally got funny bumps on their skin and got moved to another part of the hospital - but today Feliciano had gotten a new roommate that seemed...maybe less nice than the others? The perky young artist was smiling as cheerfully as ever as the nurses tucked the new roommate into bed, but the other boy was glowering up at the nurses like he didn't like them or something!

Since the other boy wasn't really saying anything yet, even after the nurses left, Feliciano decided to keep watching him. This boy had amazingly giant eyebrows! He'd never seen eyebrows as big as that before, not even once in Feliciano's entire life! They made his scowl even more...scowl-y, Feliciano decided. Ooh, he wanted to draw them so badly!

"So. We're going to be sharing." the boy finally said to Feliciano.

Feliciano's already bright smile turned beaming.

"I know, isn't that wonderful? It'd be so boring if you had to stay in a room with nobody to talk to!" Feliciano replied, "The nurses here are really nice, and they're all super pretty too, but it's also good to have someone around! Although you're not as pretty as the nurses are...but I do like your eyebrows!"

Feliciano giggled and gestured animatedly as he spoke. Ooh, he really wanted to draw those giant eyebrows now! He should really get out his pencils...or maybe take a nap. A nap sounded nice too.

[Arthur Kirkland]

Green eyes took in the young man in the bed next to him, roaming over his childish expression and half closed eyes, and then finally setting on that stupid curl before he sighed. That was going to be just as annoying as Alfred’s stupid tuft, he could tell. Although perhaps not as annoying as the man himself. Arthur realised a little late that he probably should have listened to the nurses as they told him his name, but it was too late now. He’d just have to ask him and hope that he didn’t take it as an invitation to tell Arthur his life story or something. The way that he looked at his eyebrows made Arthur uncomfortable to start off with and he looked away, back out of the window. The only bright side was that he was in the bed nearest to it, so he could try and pretend that the other man wasn’t there if he got too annoying.

“Wonderful isn’t how I’d describe it.” Arthur muttered in return, fingers twitching on the sheets. “Personally I’d prefer a little quiet.” Maybe the other boy would get the hint, maybe not. If he didn’t, Arthur would quickly tell him to shut up. One over sized brow did rise at the mention of the nurses. Great, not only was he stuck in a room with a chatty, childish idiot, but a horny one too. Although, as he thought that, Arthur wondered. He didn’t seem too much like a pervert, at least, and he’d met plenty of those in his time.

Ignoring the compliment, Arthur turned to look out of the window again, falling silent for a moment as he glanced out over the grass. Maybe they’d let him go for a walk, or swap roommates. “What’s your name?” He asked, finally. “I wasn’t listening when the nurses told me. I’m Arthur.” He added, in case the other man hadn’t been paying attention either.

[Feliciano Vargas]

Feliciano's head tilted to the side in honest puzzlement as his new roommate said something odd about liking things quiet. Quiet was good some of the time, even Feliciano knew that, but surely no one would ever prefer silence over talking with other people? What a strange idea!

It was a little hard to pay attention to that thought when he saw the other boy's giant eyebrow move. They were so expressive! Feliciano really did have to sketch them now, while he could get the best view of them...otherwise he'd have to follow the other boy around for a while, and the last time Feliciano had followed someone interesting around they'd been very mean about the whole situation.

“What’s your name? I wasn’t listening when the nurses told me. I’m Arthur."

Feliciano perked up again when the other boy spoke once more.

"My name is Feliciano! Feliciano Vargas! It's super nice to meet you, Arthur!" Feliciano replied eagerly, "Let's become good friends here in the hospital, okay?"

A moment later, Feliciano yawned a large yawn. He didn't really want to nap now that he and Arthur were becoming friends, though, so Feliciano tried to think of something else to add to their conversation.

"Have you been to a hospital before? I never have, but with all the people coming here I just had to see what one was like!" Feliciano said, "And then I even got sick myself! Isn't that a funny coincidence?"

[François Toulouse Bonnefoy]

Ah, it was to be expected as much that he, François Toulouse Bonnefoy, would be sick in the hospital. It wasn't any surprise really with as much as he and his family were out and about among the public that they would all come down with the flu early on. Luckily it was just as it was initially being diagnosed. It had been touch and go with his father, but he was finally out of the danger zone. He, his mom, and sister all had gotten sick enough to land in the hospital as well. His mom and sister had just been released today, but they had all agreed that after they were released would come be back to volunteer. They would be part of a group to brighten up the patient’s stay.

Though François was recuperating nicely, he was currently feeling stir-crazy holed up in his room, especially since he was currently housed with two old men; one of whom slept all the time and the other just stared at him in a way that gave him the heebie-jeebies. He just wished the one who stared wasn’t the one right next to him. So having enough of the lascivious old man and figuring now was as good a time for his exercise as any, he decided to get up and wander the halls. He carefully pulled on his robe first and then slid out of bed before he tied it tight around him. ‘Hah no freebies for you sir,’ he thought.

He wandered out to the nurse’s station and caught one of young nurses as she hung up from a call. “Hey beautiful, anything I could help with tonight?"

She smiled and teasingly replied, “How about getting better so I can get you out from under my foot.”

He leaned on the counter. “But it’s such a lovely foot, I thought about just setting up home there.”

“Pfft, you are such a tease, François; I’m going to miss you when you are dismissed in couple of days.”

“Well don’t worry, my family and I plan to come back as volunteers. You’ll probably see my mom and sister tomorrow on the ‘Angels’ brigade or whatever you call those wonderful souls who pop in to bring a bit of laughter and cheer to the patients.”

She smiled even bigger, “they’re the Good Spirits. And that would be wonderful if you all came back.”
She lowered her voice, “especially since you all are so well known.”

François smiled, “ah you flatter me love. But it looks like someone’s been spreading some ‘Good Spirits’ to you hard-working souls before me.”

“Eh, what do you mean?”

He pointed at the cute but well-executed drawings taped to the back of the nurse’s station.

She looked back startled and then smiled when she realized what he was referring to. “Oh, that’s Feliciano’s artwork, the patient in the room next to yours actually.”

François looked up at the ceiling for a moment thoughtful. He was always on the lookout for new talent and this Feliciano showed definite potential. “I don’t suppose this Feliciano would like some ‘famous’ company would he? I could start my volunteering a bit early.” He gave her a conspiratorial wink.

She laughed, “Oh my, yes. His roommate would probably be grateful. Lovely kid, don’t know where he gets his energy; even sick he can talk ‘til the spots were exhausted right off a leopard.”

“Never stops?”

She simply shook her head, chuckling in response.

“Well then maybe I’ll grace them with my presence.” He started to head off when the young women motioned him back conspiratorially. He paused and walked back and gave her a questioning look.

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, be careful what you say or it might go in his next book or article.” She gave him a little poke in the ribs. “A character like you would be too tempting.”

“What? The boy writes as well?” He was confused now. Wasn’t Feliciano an artist?

She shook her head amused, “no his roommate. I like his columns and I recognized him from his picture on the byline.”

François tapped his lips thoughtfully. I wonder if he does any other writing and if he already has an agent?

He gave the young woman a one finger salute, “Thank you mademoiselle. I’m off to grace your unfortunates with my uplifting and charming presence. Until next time.” He blew her a kiss and turned on his heel and headed straight into the room next to his.

As he walked over he could hear something about “liking eyebrows and then Feliciano introduced himself, but he couldn’t hear what the other man mumbled in reply. He arrived in time to hear the chipper voice pipe up again, "Have you been to a hospital before? I never have, but with all the people coming here I just had to see what one was like! And then I even got sick myself! Isn't that a funny coincidence?"

He leaned against the door surveying the room. He guessed the voice probably belonged to the young man sitting up in his bed near the far end of the room. That was probably Feliciano if he was any gauge of character. He addressed the young man with an easy smile, “I’m guessing not for anyone but you sunshine.”

He then turned to the other man who was tired and clearly unhappy to be there. Well no one ever is. He hadn’t been either.

With a mischievous smile, he glanced back at Feliciano, “If you like eyebrows, I will admit that you have a lovely specimen in your roommate here, though…” and with this he glanced back at the sullen man in the other bed and winked at him playfully, “I didn’t know this disease caused excessive facial hair growth.”

He turned back to Feliciano with a sad expression, “tell me young man, how bad is it? Have I become a wild man?”

He stroked at the short beard that had grown in during his hospital stay and then made a scary face in jest. He usually had a short beard normally, but luckily he’d had to shave it off for a promotional event that occurred right before he got sick. Otherwise he really would have looked like a wild man.

[Arthur Kirkland]

Somehow Arthur didn’t think that ‘friends’ was going to be the word for it. He was already having to crush the idea of getting out of bed and strangling Feliciano. In fact, it was probably just as well for Feliciano’s sake that his legs were still a little shaky – Arthur wasn’t quite sure that he’d actually make it across the room safely. Still, he thought to himself, he’d be better soon and then he’d be shot of this over energetic child.

He wasn’t really sure what to make of Feliciano’s remark that he hadn’t been to the hospital before. Surely that couldn’t be true? Everyone got sick at some point. And he seemed like a klutz; somehow Arthur found it easy to think that he’d cause accidents wherever he went. Fortunately, though, he was saved when the door opened and someone joined them. Unfortunately, Arthur recognised him. How could he not? As little as Arthur liked to remember it, he came from the same circles as François, even if he had removed himself from them a fair while ago now, and even if that hadn’t been the case as a journalist Arthur had to keep some sort of eye on the news, even the parts that he found distasteful.

Watching as François leant against the door, Arthur’s lip curled into a displeased snarl, but he held back. Maybe François would just be here to visit Feliciano and leave soon enough? It didn’t seem like he knew him, though, and as François turned blue eyes to look at him, Arthur’s heart sank. Great.

“Fuck off, there’s nothing wrong with my eyebrows.” He snapped. “That awful little beard of yours is ridiculous, though.” Arthur knew all too well that blonde hair didn’t make for a good beard. He’d never had the urge to grow one himself, but he’d watched his brothers struggle with it as teenagers, and his own was stubble patchy on the rare occasions he didn’t get round to shaving. “I’d have though that someone like you wouldn’t have any problems arranging a shave.”

Sitting up a little straighter, Arthur narrowed his eyes. He was a little more defensive than he would be normally: uncomfortable because he was weak, or he might have hidden his bile a little better, but he wasn’t really fond of any of Solus’ aristocracy. They reminded him too much of his own family. “What are you here for? If you’re here to see Feliciano, get your business done and get out.”

[Feliciano Vargas]

Before Arthur could say anything, a new voice entered their conversation. Puzzled, Feliciano turned his head to the door and found that someone new had entered the room!

“I’m guessing not for anyone but you sunshine,”[/i] the newcomer said.

Feliciano thought maybe this fellow looked a little familiar, but he wasn't sure why. On the other hand, he didn't really care either, because a new face meant Feliciano would be making yet another new friend! The hospital was fast becoming one of his new favorite place to meet people, Feliciano decided.

His newest new friend then informed Feliciano that giant eyebrows, such as what Arthur had, were actually a symptom of a disease! ...At least that was what Feliciano thought he'd said, it was a little confusing. Feliciano had certainly never read about any eyebrow-growing diseases before! But this new person seemed very confident about what he was saying, so it had to be true, right?

"Oh my gosh!" Feliciano exclaimed, "I'm so sorry, Arthur! I didn't know you had a horrible eyebrow-growing disease! Is that why you're in the hospital? Are you going to be okay?!"

Feliciano's arms flailed wildly as he expressed his dismay. The IV tube that the nurses had attached to his arm (which Feliciano didn't like being there, but couldn't figure out how to pull it out without it hurting and thus had to leave it) flapped around crazily as well.

Being sick from a giant-eyebrow-growing disease sounded terrible, too! Much worse than this other disease everyone else at the hospital had! Poor Arthur, he must be so sad about the whole thing.

"Ah!"

Feliciano paused mid-flail, arms outstretched.

"I got it! I'll draw you a pretty picture! A nice picture will make you so happy you'll heal from your eyebrow sickness in no time at all!" Feliciano declared.

Without waiting for a reply, he rummaged under his pillow for his sketchbook and his box of pencils. He'd have to draw Arthur the most wonderful picture he could think of! ...Now what should it be of?

[François Toulouse Bonnefoy]

Before Feliciano might reply to his playful banter, the writer caustically opined, “That awful little beard of yours is ridiculous, though.”

François pondered things. It was quite the acerbic response the man had given him. So it meant that he either; one, didn’t have a sense of humor or two, was rather touchy when it came to his eyebrows. Still that was hardly enough to discourage François. He’d had worse initial meetings. Like that one morning that started with an attractive woman, some spilled coffee and a ruined shirt and then ended that night with…well the shirt had already been ruined. It was all in how you ended things that mattered and he was definitely going to end better than he started; he wasn’t a Toulouse Bonnefoy for nothing.

François let go of his beard and gave a quick tilt with his open palm outward and nodded his head in acknowledgement. “No ill will was intended sir.”

He casually moved farther into the room as he spoke, Though I gather you are someone who follows the society pages”, then stopped at the one visitor’s chair that was centered between the two beds. “Whatever my reputation may be,” and smoothing the back of his robe flat, he then sat down. “For the record I prefer to do my own grooming.”

He gave the loose ends of the robe a quick flip over his legs as final punctuation then looked over at the cantankerous writer ready for his next volley. But whatever he might have said was waylaid by Feliciano’s sudden outburst.

"I'm so sorry, Arthur! I didn't know you had a horrible eyebrow-growing disease! Is that why you're in the hospital? Are you going to be okay?!"

The statement caught the both of them completely by surprise. They simply gaped at the youth and for a moment found common ground as they looked back at the other trying to decide whether to take him seriously. Initially, François thought that the young man was just teasing his roommate as well. But when he looked into Feliciano’s open-faced compassion, he then realized that the youth wasn’t bluffing. He took what François had said literally and ‘believed’ that his roommate’s full eyebrows were caused by disease and not just simple genetics. When the young man then turned and reached for his art supplies and asked what to draw to cheer up his eyebrow-diseased roommate, François couldn’t help himself. He completely lost his composure.

François touched his brow lightly shaking his head as his amusement bubbled up and out. He waved the young man off of his innocent question before his roommate figured out a way to bridge the distance between them and potentially throttle him for it.

“Ah non." He paused for more chuckling. "No, no, that is not. . .” His words were finally lost under another fit of laughter that quickly ended with chest-rattling hacks that tore his breath away and changed the tone of events from harmless hilarity to a grave reminder of how they all came to be there.

François felt the stirrings of panic with each watery cough as he tried to pull air in great heaving breaths between each of them, but the air was expelled as quickly as it was inhaled. The phlegm that had built in his chest during his illness loosened in that quick burst of belly laughter and now his body was determined to have it out. He could feel it as it was kicked up to lodge like a round lump in the back of his throat.

Soon passing out from lack of air or gagging and vomiting seemed two potential outcomes in his future. He was sure his dignity wouldn’t survive either. Of course maybe he should have been more worried about the pinkish spittle that dotted the sleeve of his robe from where he used it to cover his mouth, but at the moment his brain couldn’t focus on anything more than three things.

He needed water.

He needed air.

He needed out of there.

[Arthur Kirkland]

Of course there was always option three: Arthur was a grumpy little sod and he was touchy about his eyebrows. It certainly didn’t help that he was ill, although an outsider would have to note that both Feliciano and François were dealing with being ill a lot better than Arthur. In fact, small children were probably dealing with ill a lot better than Arthur, though they probably hadn’t denied being ill for quite as long as the skinny writer had. “You haven’t been doing a very good job, then.” He told François, still not willing to back down. “Do I look like a man that wastes my time on the tripe that they post in the society pages?”

One of his overgrown eyebrows twitched as Feliciano went into overdrive at the suggestion that it might be the plague that had caused his eyebrows to grow. Was he really a simpleton? “No, you idiot, I’ve got the same thing as you have or I wouldn’t be stuck in here with you!” He snapped, annoyed. François’ laughter certainly didn’t help, and Arthur felt his ire grow, tensing his fist around the bedsheets as he held back from swearing at Feliciano. Really, telling him off was bad enough. It was like slapping a puppy, but Arthur wasn’t going to let this ridiculous idea grow and further, or no doubt he’d never be able to clear it from Feliciano’s mind. “I don’t need a bloody picture!” He snapped.

When François started to cough, though, Arthur went into automatic. He might dislike the bastard, but he wasn’t about to let him die on him. He was smart enough to hit the emergency button, guessing that Feliciano wouldn’t, and leaning over he smacked his back, trying to shock his body into taking a breath. “Feliciano, get him some water.” He said, over François’ coughing, looking at the brown haired boy as he changed to rubbing the other blonde’s back. He was relieved when one of the nurses came in though and took over from him, propping the man up and putting an oxygen mask on for him. As she took over rubbing his back, Arthur sat back, relaxing now that François was out of his hands. Perhaps they’d take him away now and he’d get a little bit more peace, although he frowned still. What on earth was the idiot doing up and about if he was still ill?

[Feliciano Vargas]

Feliciano was honestly perplexed by the reaction he got to his heartfelt concern over poor Arthur's eyebrow disease. The blonde man that had brought it up started laughing, which didn't seem quite appropriate to Feliciano - not one little bit! After all, who knew if this eyebrow-growing disease that poor Arthur had was dangerous? The eyebrow-infected boy was kind of skinny, too...clearly the eyebrows were sucking up all his nutrients! It was just like that old foreign movie Feliciano saw the other day: that one from the old world with the pretty girls who fought evil monsters that sucked up energy! Feliciano had really liked the girls in the movie but having the same kind of thing happening in real life was too much!

Arthur didn't laugh: instead, he yelled. Maybe the eyebrow disease was making him cranky...but Feliciano pouted anyway when Arthur said he didn't want Feliciano to draw him a picture at all. Why would anyone not want a lovely picture made especially for them? It was baffling!

Feliciano's concerns over Arthur and his terrible eyebrow-based sickness were scattered to the winds when the blonde man started coughing instead of laughing - coughing really hard and loud and painful-soundingly!

“Feliciano, get him some water.”[/b]

That was Arthur, rubbing the poor blonde man's back as he kept coughing.

"Oh! Ah, r-right!" Feliciano squeaked.

Where was the water? He had to get it...from the sink! You were supposed to get water from sinks, Feliciano knew that! And he remembered that there was a sink in the hospital room's tiny little bathroom, so Feliciano sprang up to his feet and dashed over to get some water from there! ...This was much easier thought than done, as trying to walk had gotten very difficult for some reason ever since Feliciano had gotten sick. Wobbling and weaving awkwardly, Feliciano started in the direction of the bathroom...only to reach the end of the IV tube before he got halfway there.

Oh no, how was he supposed to get the water now?! Feliciano's predicament was thankfully resolved when some of the pretty nurses came in. One of them (he remembered her name was Beth) went to help the blonde man, while the other nurse (the second nurse's name was Carrie) headed over to Feliciano instead.

"What in the world are you doing out of bed, Feliciano?" she chided him.

"Nurse Carrie! It's so terrible! We were just talking about how Arthur has a terrible eyebrow disease, and then our new friend started coughing really badly and Arthur said I needed to get him some water! But I can't get to the sink from here! What should I do?!" Feliciano explained.

It was probably his imagination, but Nurse Carrie seemed to giggle a little bit at the mention of Arthur's terrible eyebrow disease. Of course, Feliciano decided he was just imagining that. A super-cute nurse like her would never ever laugh at anybody's terrible disease! What a silly thought!

"Don't worry, I'll get some water for François right now. You just go back to bed, Feliciano," Nurse Carrie replied.

Feliciano was gently guided back to his bed and tucked under the covers. He was still worried about his new friend (whose name was François, as it turned out!), though, and looked worriedly over at him as Nurse Beth kept rubbing François' back.

"We'll have you back in your room in a minute," Nurse Beth was saying.

And then Feliciano, seeing the empty third bed, had a brilliant idea.

"Wait! Nurse Beth, why don't you put François in this room? The bed is right over there and we're all such good friends!" Feliciano suggested brightly.

In no part of Feliciano's mind did any of that plan sound like a bad idea. And he really couldn't see any reason Arthur or François would object: they'd been talking to each other like old friends just a minute ago, after all! Surely this would work out well for everyone!

[François Toulouse Bonnefoy]

Don't shoot me for exceptionally long reply. I was trying to figure out how to make it plausible for the nurses to suddenly move me if I wanted my character to stay. (And of course I want him to stay. Thanks Feli for the opening.) Wow, is it sad that the nurses got more lines in this than my wonderous François?

François sensed the man in the bed near him lean over him. He felt a warm hand without much strength rubbing his back as the other man tried to aid him in an attempt to quell the coughing fit. François appreciated the gesture even though his spastic diaphragm didn’t seem inclined to relax. The patient rubbing his back turned and called for Feliciano to grab some water.

He heard the other young man stumble out of the bed. He glanced over at the noise when the young man cried out after getting tangled in his IV. Just then two nurses came in through the door together. They split to attend to Feliciano and himself. He noticed that the cute nurse Carrie that he’d been talking to at the front desk earlier was attending Feliciano which meant that he’d gotten the other nurse on duty, Beth. Beth was fine, but he’d preferred Carrie though at the moment he was just happy that whatever she was doing was working and that he was finally getting the coughing down to something manageable. You know something that allowed breathing, talking or drinking the cup of water that nurse Carrie brought over.

“Feeling better?” Nurse Beth asked.

He nodded.

She pulled out her stethoscope. “Alright take a couple of deep breaths for me.” He breathed in deeply as she listened to the air going in and out of his lungs. She shook her head. “That doesn’t sound good. Sounds like there is fluid in there.” She looked at Carrie for confirmation.

Nurse Carrie took out her stethoscope and he repeated the process for her.

“Yeah, I hear it too. Sounds like you might have got a touch of pneumonia there hon. We’ll have to get the doctor to confirm it of course, but I don’t think he’ll want to release you until you’re breathing free and clear.”

François tried to object and pull the mask off, “I’m fine,” but the objection fell sort of flat when it came from a voice faint and wheezy.

Beth eyed him with a stern look as she placed the mask back over his face, “You didn’t do your breathing exercises like I recommended to keep this from happening did you?”

François glanced away in response and gave a slight shake of his head.
Beth sighed.

“Alright, well we’ll have you back in your room in a minute,” she said as she and Carrie were helping him up at the same time he was waving them off.

Just then Feliciano piped up, “Wait! Nurse Beth, why don’t you put François in this room? The bed is right over there and we’re all such good friends!”

Beth looked over at Feliciano. “Feliciano, I’m sorry, but we can’t just move a patient from his assigned room unless there is some extenuating circumstance.”

Feliciano looked dejected and François wondered if he imagined he heard a sigh of relief coming from his other side.

Feliciano started to say something but was stopped when right at that moment Nurse Carrie took a quick inhalation of breath as she suddenly remembered something. “Um, actually we can’t really take him back.”

Beth turned around and looked back at her in shock. “What are you talking about?”

She motioned for Beth to come over to the other side of the room away from the patients. She lowered her voice,“You know that patient that just went three on our floor?”

Beth nodded. “Wait, don’t tell me.”

Carrie gave a tired nod. “Yep, same room as François. So the stage three has been sent to quarantine and they are in the process of relocating the other recovering patient to another room.”

François’ ears perked up at the mention of his roommates. He listened intently to the nurses’ quiet conversation. A quick look around confirmed that the other two men were just as curious and straining to catch their whispers.

Beth sighed and spoke a little louder not really caring if they heard her now, “So we can’t take him back until they’ve cleaned and disinfected the room. And by then they’ll probably already have someone new in there before they’re hardly finished. So where have they assigned him?”

Carrie bit her lip nervously, “They didn’t. He was originally scheduled to be released today whenever the doctor finally made it round to him to check him out and sign off on his release.”

“Doesn’t look like that will happen now. Is anybody scheduled for the third bed?” Beth asked as she walked over to the computer terminal keyboard in the corner.

Carrie shook her head silently and shrugged unsure. Beth made a few quick keystrokes and then smiled in relief. “Looks like we are in luck. Admissions hasn’t logged a patient for this bed yet. I’ll log him in and make a note for the doctor.”

Carrie had already gone back over to François and was helping him over to the empty bed to Feliciano’s delight and the other man’s consternation. François thought he’d maybe heard Feliciano refer to him as Arthur, but he wasn’t sure. All he knew was he certainly regretting his impish teasing of the man earlier now that he was being led to the empty bed between the two.

“Don’t worry François, I’ll get your personal items from your room and bring them over. Were they all in the third cabinet? Anything on your tray?”

He nodded and shook his head in order to her questions, but his apprehensive look wasn’t about his things. It was the fact that instead of Arthur looking concerned and put upon as he did earlier when François had started coughing, he now looked murderously unhappy about the situation and François was now being moved back within arm’s length of him, if the man stretched a bit. You couldn't get strangled with an IV cord in hospital, could you? At least he hoped not.

[Arthur Kirkland]

Arthur heard the clatter as Feliciano jumped up and didn’t realise that he could pull his IV tube with him. Realising what had happened without even looking up he let out a quiet groan. Really, was he a simpleton? How stupid could you get? Besides, there was a jug of water on each of their beside tables in case they wanted a drink and didn’t want to call the nurses in, what was he going to the bathroom for in the first place? If he’d been here longer than Arthur had, he should have realised that for himself already. The water in there would be cleaner than from the bathroom, knowing the hospital, filtered and cooled.

At least they were quickly saved by the nurses. He continued to rub Francis back until one of the girls moved to take over to him, when he sat back, closing his eyes as the other two dealt with them. To be honest, just rubbing Francis’ back had worn him out. He was still desperately tired from his collapse before, but it didn’t seem like he’d get a chance to sleep any time soon. He found he couldn’t even take in what was being said, too tired to focus on which conversation he should be listening to. Closing his eyes, he zoned out, letting the noise blur into a low buzz, ignoring it completely. They’d take François back to his own room, and then he’d be stuck with just one idiot and maybe be able to get some sleep. He didn’t even hear Feliciano suggest that François take the third bed in the room, or he certainly would have complained.

Therefore he got a very unpleasant shock when he opened his eyes again and they were preparing the third bed for François. His face pulled into a very unpleasant look. Bugger the disease killing him, his roommates would. If he didn’t kill them first. Somehow that seemed more likely, even if the exertion killed him. It would be worth it. He scowled even more when the nurse offered to bring François’ things into the room. Looked like he was here to stay, then. He hadn’t taken in what was causing them to settle it here, but perhaps if Arthur was lucky he wouldn’t be kept in hospital too much longer.

“So I suppose we’re stuck with you now, then.” Arthur huffed, once the nurse had left. Well, there wasn’t anything he could do about it, sadly. “Why the hell didn’t you just do your bloody exercises?” Well, he’d heard that part of the conversation at least, and he considered it the other blonde’s fault that he was stuck here. Honestly, he didn’t understand it at all. Arthur despised being stuck in hospital, having his privacy and independence snapped away, and like last time, he’d be doing everything that would help to get him out sooner.

[Feliciano Vargas]

“Feliciano, I’m sorry, but we can’t just move a patient from his assigned room unless there is some extenuating circumstance."[/b]

Nurse Beth's words made Feliciano's face fall instantly. But...then how would Feliciano be able to spend time with both of his new friends if only one was in the same room? He didn't know where in the hospital François was staying...and this was such a big place with so many people that Feliciano didn't think he'd ever be able to find François again! One of his new friends was going to be lost forever...it was too horrible to contemplate!

Feliciano was so quickly working himself into a teary-eyed wreck that most of what Nurse Carrie and Nurse Beth were talking about flew right past him. But then he saw Nurse Carrie helping François into the third empty bed after all, and she was even talking about bringing François' things here...that meant François was going to stay after all!

"Hooray! All three of us get to be together!" Feliciano cheered.

He threw his hands in the air in delight...and less than five seconds later, flopped backwards into his cushy and comfy pillow. Ooh, the room was spinning around all of a sudden...what a silly room, rooms were supposed to stay still, not spin.

Nurse Beth was next to him surprisingly quickly. Feliciano wasn't surprised she was as graceful as she was pretty, but still it was amazing she could walk around so easily in a silly, spinny room like this. She tsk-tsked at him as she tucked his covers close.

"Feliciano, you know you're not supposed to try walking until your balance is better,"[/i] Nurse Beth gently lectured, "Make sure you stay put this time, alright?"[/i]

"...Okaaaay," Feliciano replied.

His voice sounded almost as dizzy as he felt, which made him giggle. While the pretty nurses went back to making sure François was all settled in his new bed, Feliciano snuggled into his comfy covers and comfy pillow. If the room was all spinny, there was only one thing to do: take a nap until it went back to normal, of course! He was already sleepy, so it was only moments before Feliciano was gently snoring away in his hospital bed. He liked taking naps as much as he liked making new friends.

-----
- I'm still posting in the thread, Feli is just taking a little siesta~ X3

[François Toulouse Bonnefoy]

"Hooray! All three of us get to be together!" Feliciano cheered.

François looked over at the young artist. Well at least one person was happy about these circumstances. He couldn’t say that he was though. It reminded him too much of the time before when he was stuck in the hospital as a kid for an asthma attack. He seriously had thought the breathing exercises required of him were simply because of that. His roommates hadn’t needed to do anything like that. So why did he? He hadn’t even had an attack in over 15 years. So he did a few then stopped at the silliness of them. Now of course, it was ostensibly obvious that they were not silly.

He watched as the remaining nurse tucked Feliciano back into bed. He fervently wished that she would leave so he could pull off the oxygen mask and toss it to the side. He hated things over his face even if they did help him breathe. However, Nurse Carrie came in right when the other nurse was leaving and tut-tutted at him when she saw him reaching up for the mask.

“I know you don’t like it, but you won’t have to keep it as long as a nose tube. I’ll be back in an hour. ‘kay?” He sighed and nodded understanding as she put his things away. She left right after checking on Feliciano who now was asleep.

He reached up and rubbed the ring he wore on a chain around his neck in agitation. He was annoyed at his body rebelling and ruining his plans and good humor all in one shot. Therefore, when the other man griped from the bed next to him, he really wasn’t in the mood to hear it.

“So I suppose we’re stuck with you now, then.” Arthur huffed, once the nurse had left.

François turned back toward Arthur and gave a half-hearted nod. He hoped he would leave it at that.

He didn’t. “Why the hell didn’t you just do your bloody exercises?” he asked in rebuke.

François was now doubly glad of the mask, one because it forced him to hold his tongue as he couldn’t really talk without removing it and thus it offered an excuse not to reply or make any conversation. He pointed at it and then gave a little one-shouldered shrug.

The extra oxygen was making him tired or was that whatever medicine Nurse Beth had handed him with the water? Well, no matter, he was beginning to think that Feliciano had the right idea as he settled into his pillows and pulled the covers up to his chest. If that man wanted to debate reasons as to what in his or human nature in general drove a man to ignore very good advice; well, it could wait an hour until the mask came off or until they woke them up for mealtime. After all, it didn’t look like any of them would be going anywhere anytime soon. He sighed inwardly as he closed his eyes. He had really hoped never see another hospital meal again.

[Arthur Kirkland]

Well, the oxygen mask was a fine excuse for Francis not to respond. Arthur wasn’t even sure that he wanted an answer, and he had to admit that the sudden silence was quite nice, even if Feliciano’s light snores very quickly started to get on his already frayed nerves. Deciding that he’d better take advantage of the quiet while it lasted, Arthur turned over with his back to the other two, drawing the blankets around him to make a warm nest. He attempted to ignore the smell of bleach and medicines and pretend that he was in his own bed at home. It didn’t work, but he was tired and ill enough to fall into an uneasy doze anyway.

He woke only an hour or so later when a nurse came in to check on them, and found that he couldn’t fall asleep again. Carefully, not wanting to wake the others, he reached for his bedside table, and managed to find his phone. Curling around it, he sent Alfred a late text, then settled down, looking out of the window at the dusk. The rest had done him some good, and he no longer felt as irate as he had done before, though still sick and weak. But he’d already been in stage two for two days, so hopefully he’d get better soon and be discharged. He’d had enough of hospitals this year to last him a lifetime.

Thinking about that, Arthur realised that he still had his column to write. He called a nurse and requested paper and a pen. Reluctantly he also accepted her help to sit up in bed, and took the offer of a cup of tea. Soon he was scribbling away, the scratching of the pen blending in with Francis and Feliciano’s breathing, so that in the few moments when Arthur stopped to think the silence was noticeable.

[Feliciano Vargas]

Feliciano's nap was quite refreshing. In fact, at one point he started having a silly dream where he was swimming in a giant pool of iced tea, so it was almost literally refreshing.

When the nurse came in to check on things, Feliciano woke up for a few moments to see who it was...and then rolled over and returned to his nap.

Unfortunately, he had another dream that wasn't silly OR refreshing. It was the bad dream, the scary dream! Feliciano really, really didn't like having this dream! He'd been having it for forever and it never got any less scary!

The only thing that might clue his new roommates into how distressing this dream was for Feliciano was how the brunette trembled under the covers. When blood splattered all over his face in the dream, Feliciano whimpered loudly without waking up.

Truthfully, Feliciano didn't just dislike the dream: he actually hated it. It was a pretty big deal, since Feliciano barely hated anything at all, but this dream...the smell of blood and the sight of the faceless man collapsing...a great big wad of distress knotted up all his insides. It hurt...

As the faceless man's body hit the ground with a heavy thump (he was wearing armor, after all) Feliciano's eyes shot open. Sitting up abruptly, the artist looked around frantically.

...R-Right, this was the hospital. And those two people over there were his new friends and roommates, Arthur and François! Both of them were in their beds and there was no bl-blood or ANYTHING bad here at all! Feliciano couldn't help but sigh in relief.

It turned out Arthur was actually sitting up and doing something, Feliciano noticed after another few moments.

"Good morning!" Feliciano greeted Arthur, even though it wasn't really morning yet outside, "What're you doing? Are you drawing something, Arthur? I didn't know you liked to draw!"

[François Toulouse Bonnefoy]

François slept until the nurse came in to check on them. She checked his oxygen levels and decided she could remove his mask. He was glad. It was hard to sleep in it. Through half-lidded eyes, he watched her check on the others and then she left the room. He rolled to his side as much as he could without disturbing any of the monitoring cords attached to him. He saw Arthur discreetly pull out a little phone and quickly type out a message on it. François wondered if it was a note to Arthur himself or a message to family. A little bit later, a green blinking light signaled a return message. As Arthur read it, a soft contented smile crossed his face.

Family maybe, he thought, but a friend more likely. Then François remembered his own phone in the bag with his belongings hanging in the closet. He wondered about all the people he knew, family, friends, and even associates. Would he have to attend funerals for any of them? François hoped he wouldn’t have to say goodbye to too many people when this epidemic was over. The thought made him feel restless and threatened to plague his sleeping moments through the duration of any more napping today. Unfortunately, he suspected that his sleep would be plagued for more than just this afternoon, since this was a genuine fear, it wouldn’t be something that could be so easily dismissed when he awoke. He turned uneasy to his other side and away from the other man staring at nothing in particular as his weary body tried to convince his mind to put such things aside for the moment.

He didn’t know how long he lay there half-in and out of that restless sleep before he heard faint whimpering from the bed across from him. The young artist nearby seemed to be having a bad dream. Perhaps the young man’s worries and ill health had spilled over into his subconscious musings as well. He thought about waking him, but sometimes it’s best to let the person sleep and work things out in the Land of Nod. He had heard once that that was the purpose of dreams. If the young man grew more agitated then François would get up to wake him or even call a nurse should he roll off the bed in his agitation.

He rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling before he heard the sound of pen nib to paper. He rolled his head to the side looking for the source of the noise. Arthur was hunched over his hospital tray-table diligently writing away. François thought about asking him what he was writing but then thought better of it. As a Literary Agent, he knew better than to interrupt a writer’s train of thought, so instead he rolled to his side and tucking his hands up by his face and watched the young man while he worked. He figured that eventually Arthur would notice the gaze and look up, and then he would have his chance to talk to him.

He lay there quietly studying the other man's profile pondering what type of personality and history went with it. Coming up with nothing than his initial first impression, he couldn't help but continue his inward musings from earlier when he had seen the man’s reaction to the text. François wondered what kind of person was this friend on the other end that could get a prickly sort to smile like that. But then again maybe he wasn’t being fair to the writer. He wasn't the first to bristle a bit at François' sense of humor. And after all....here he smiled to himself remembering the writer's secretive smile, someone who was truly that way through and through wouldn’t have that gentle of a smile. With that pleasant thought, he might have drifted off to sleep again in the quiet room with the hypnotic pen scratching sounds, that is if the young artist hadn’t woken up just then and interrupted Arthur with his loudly-voiced question. That woke François up entirely, or it would have, if he had actually been asleep. He imagined that sleeping through any background conversation where the boisterous young man was one of the two conversationalists was, put mildly, highly improbable.

Well this could be entertaining, he thought as he pulled himself upright. He listened to the exchange, thinking that he might just get his answer and maybe then some without asking a single question.


Sorry guys, I wrote alot, but nothing you really have to add in to either of your replies, just go ahead and have your conversation and François will probably jump in with the next round.

Arthur, I know you didn't write in that you got a reply back from Alfred, but I needed something for François to muse on, so I wrote one in for that reason. Well that and your character has been getting abused a bit in this RP with me, so I thought he deserved a sweet moment. I hope that's okay? If not, message me and I'll go in and edit it out.

[Arthur Kirkland]

When Alfred’s reply came, Arthur smiled to himself. It was a relief to see that he seemed all right, still snarky despite the fact that he was obviously just as ill as Arthur if not worse. Alfred had so much vitality, that Arthur believed that there was no way that he’d hit stage three. Alfred couldn’t die. It was hard to think of anyone dying, really. Even the pair with him in the room; they were annoying and frustrating, but Arthur didn’t want them to die. He just wanted them out of his life. Like Alfred, though, both of them seemed to have too much vitality, even while ill. They’d be all right. His thoughts then briefly moved onto his family, though, and he frowned. How were they doing? No doubt if they were here they had paid for privacy, so Arthur didn’t have to worry about seeing them, but he didn’t know how he felt about them dying. He decided that he didn’t want to care, so he pushed the thoughts away. They’d be fine.

Arthur heard Feliciano sit up and he held back a quiet sigh. For now, he continued ignoring him, letting him finish waking up, hoping that he’d actually stay silent. It wasn’t much of a hope, but he had to believe, right? When Feliciano spoke he closed his eyes for a moment, but then ignored him. He’d finish the sentence, he told himself, and then as he finished the sentence, he’d finish the paragraph. Eventually, though, he came to a natural pause, and then he capped his pen and looked up. His shoulders were a little stiff from either writing hunched over or the illness, and he rolled them before looking at Feliciano.

“No.” Arthur said bluntly. He did draw, occasionally, but Feliciano didn’t need to know that. Besides, he’d published those children’s books under a false name for a reason. “I’m writing.” Looking at Feliciano, he spotted François as he did so, and narrowed his eyes noting that he was awake. What was the point of pretending to be asleep? Really. “The nurse brought plain paper in for you, though. She said that you’d like more.” He pointed to the pile on Feliciano’s bedside table.

[Feliciano Vargas]

Arthur was quick and to the point with his reply. Actually, the longer Feliciano looked at his big-eyebrow-wearing roommate, the more he realized that Arthur was actually in a bad mood. Now how was that possible? After all, Arthur was in a nice, comfy bed! He had two happy new friends and they were all together in a hospital filled with pretty nurses! So what could possibly make Arthur feel out of sorts?

...Maybe he had a stomach-ache? Feliciano knew he sometimes got a little cranky when he'd had too much to eat. But Arthur was so skinny! Too skinny, really. It made Feliciano want to try cooking something for him. Maybe Arthur was cranky because he was hungry?

And then Arthur explained that he was writing and Feliciano's previous thoughts flew out the window.

"You're a writer? That's amazing!" Feliciano exclaimed, flinging his hands up in delight.

Forgetting all about François being asleep (or at least looking asleep enough to fool Feliciano), Feliciano leaned forward eagerly. If he'd been able to get across the room without falling over, the happy brunette would already be trying to read Arthur's writings over the blond's shoulder.

"What are you writing? Is it a story? Or maybe it's a pretty poem to give to your girlfriend!" Feliciano continued, "Can I read it? I'd love to read it~"

Arthur's mention of paper drew Feliciano's attention to his bedside table. There was indeed a fresh stack of paper waiting for him. Feliciano picked it up and looked it over with a smile and a nod. Not the best paper in the world, but good enough for the pencils he'd brought to the hospital! Maybe later he'd ask the nurses if they'd bring him a canvas and his paints, it'd been so long since Feliciano got to paint anything~

"I know! I'll draw something nice to go with your writing!" Feliciano decided, "I can make you a beautiful illustration to go with it! What's it about? I'll make you the best picture in the world, I promise!"

Feliciano pulled his pencil case out from under his pillow as he eagerly outlined this plan. It seemed simple enough to him, and who wouldn't want a lovely picture?

"Oh! I'd better draw something for François too! Otherwise it'd be unfair," Feliciano added, looking over at the 'sleeping' blond man, "What do you think he'd like?"

[François Toulouse Bonnefoy]

François had sat up earlier at Feliciano’s initial outburst. François noted the sideways irritated glance that Arthur cast at him before answering Feliciano. He wondered why the suspicious look, it’s not like he could read the young man’s writing from his bed nor had he interrupted his writing like the young artist.

Ah well. He leaned back against his pillow and closed his eyes again as a slight smile curved his lips in response to Feliciano’s excitement when he discovered that Arthur was a writer.

Honestly, if it came down to it, he was just as curious to read some of Arthur’s material as well, but François also knew that aside from whatever the young man just wrote, his access to any material written by Arthur was hampered by the fact that he was currently confined to a hospital bed. So he decided to sit calmly on his bed and listen amusedly to the exchange between his two roommates. Well it was more like an interrogation, if one could call it that when the interrogator was as cute and excitable as Feliciano. But Feliciano kept firing questions away apparently in an attempt to get Arthur to reply to at least one of his questions with more than one word answers. If buoyancy of personality was enough to make it as an interviewer then the young artist might have tried for a career as a TV reporter.

The bubbly artist was quickly sidetracked to a new topic when Arthur pointed out Feliciano’s own stack of fresh paper. When Feliciano asked what François might like for him to draw, François knew this was his opportunity to quickly figure out the young artist’s style and interests. He also knew exactly the what to say to accomplish that.

François opened one eye and quick as beat replied, “surprise me.”