The Thing about Falling ✓

Forty Four • Check Up

Athena

"How is he?"

Fitz had just come back into our shared dorm room looking exhausted. His forehead was dotted with sweat and his clothes looked rumpled. I watched him throw his backpack to the corner of his bed as he sat down and started to remove his sneakers.

"Bad. Very bad. If it ain't obvious enough, I had just been to the toilet with him a few hours ago, and watched him puke out his lunch. God, was it hot in there." he said as he fanned himself with a random flyer.

I sat still on my study desk, my arm slung over the back. 

This was really bad.

He was fine last week. I know for a fact Owen gets sick easily for random reasons, but the most common was being so exhausted, he was beyond his limits. I had only wondered what he did that tired him out so much, he started vomiting.

God, does he have the flu?

"Since when?" I asked, pushing myself away from my books and laptop, and turned my thin wooden chair toward Fitz, who had still been fanning himself.

He shrugged.

"I don't know. I'm guessing it could have started during the weekends but, when I saw him last Monday, he was already in bad shape." Fitz admitted as he laid on his bed, his arms thrown wide over his covers.

In the moments that followed, I was guessing Fitz was more exhausted than usual. During the short time I had stayed here, he usually had a little time to himself; to play games or watch an episode of a show. Now, his eyes were fixated toward the ceiling, his chest heaving.

Our silence was shared. Fitz took his time to rest, and I put my mind to work. 

Owen rarely throws up when he has a fever. I'm guessing he has one since he had been so pale and he looked a little sickly earlier when I saw him, but vomiting? It could be the flu. But I have to be sure of it.

"What do you think happened?" I asked.

Fitz slightly raised his head to look and me and he sighed.

"I'm not sure, but I think he once told me he was trying out wheelchair tennis or something. I don't know if that helps connect the dots or not."

Tennis, huh. 

I wracked my brains for things that could've caused Owen to get that sick. In the past, I somehow always get them right. He got sick from getting soaked in the rain once, and he got sick from tiring himself out while studying a few times too many. I was sure back then that it was a fever, but this is more than that.

Then it hit me.

"Fuck." I muttered.

Alarmed, Fitz slowly sat up and scratched his nape, looking a bit curious. His eyes slightly grew larger, and he sat on his bed, facing me.

"What?" he asked.

I stifled a little smile. Maybe there are some dots to connect, after all.

"Tennis made him sick." I said, realizing how unusual of a reason it was for Owen to get sick. Just because he tried a sport. Adorable.

The flu is like, some sort of virus that messes people up. While most can inhale droplets of the virus, germs from objects can be picked up by anyone who touched something with it, then rubbed it around the eyes, nose, and mouth.

I was guessing it came from tennis rackets. If he does not have a personal one and instead, loaned it off a local sports center, of course there would be germs. Then he would have to get used to  his grip, since he's left handed. I would've had to predict him swiping his face with his hands after holding a borrowed racket to make sure I'm right.