Elvis One Shots/Imagines

Got a Lot O' Livin' to Do - Elvis

a/n: request by @BreadSticksYum not exact words from the movie but similar!

You never realized just how fast Jerry can be until he's taking long strides next to Elvis, trying to explain your mutual theory over Colonel Tom Parker being anybody but Colonel Tom Parker. You're struggling to keep up, almost running behind the men as they talk. You want to pipe in too, tell Elvis what you know and what he should potentially do about it if he asks for your help.

Elvis takes it all in but it doesn't seem to process for him. Then he pauses, asking Jerry to slow down for a just a moment. In a blink he's down, having fallen in a heap on the floor. You panic, everyone around you panics. Some woman from nearby who appears to be a nurse provides a golden bowl full of icy water. The men nearby grab Elvis and submerge his face in to wake him.

When they pull him out and Elvis is still a little coherent they shove him back in. You see bubbles of air come near his head and try to pull at one of them to get him out. But they don't budge, keeping Elvis's head in until Tom Parker comes bumbling down the hallway.

The man takes Elvis out and he's gasping for breath on the man's lap, eyes wildly looking everything. His hair is clinging to his face and he looks exhausted. Dr Nick comes racing towards him, holding Elvis's face in his hand as he quickly examines him.

"The only thing that matters is that that man gets up on that stage tonight," Parker hissed, pointing to Elvis who was struggling to make sense of his surroundings.

"If he was my son I'd put him in a hospital!" The woman cried, eyes wide with concern at the notion that Elvis would perform after something like this.

All eyes turn to Vernon Presley, standing meekly near the wall and staring at his son in complete disbelief. You felt a sinking feeling in your gut. You liked Vernon, sure, but he was a pushover. The slightest tug and he'd go flying in whatever way you sent him. And right now, Tom Parker was sending him daggers with his eyes. If Vernon didn't agree with Parker, it could be an issue for him.

"Well... what can you do for him Dr Nick?"

"Are you crazy?" You burst out, jumping from your spot next to Elvis and preventing Dr Nick from getting any closer, "Elvis needs to rest, he can't perform today."

Tom made a face, "Mr Presley said -"

"I don't care what Mr Presley said! Elvis is in pain, he just fainted and we need to know why."

"But the show -"

"He's more important than some God damn show!"

Tom Parker got up close in your face, waving his fat finger around, "You listen here little girl, that man needs to get on that stage to perform for that crowd. Ain't nothing as important as those fans."

"Elvis is. Elvis is more important. Step away from him you blood sucking toad of a man, or I will personally end your life. True fans will let the man have a God damn break!" You spat in the 'Colonel's face, all the rage from the past few weeks building into this moment. He wanted to hurt Elvis, he wanted to manipulate him and suck him for all he's worth. You would not let that happen, Elvis deserved more than this, than this vampire.

Vernon stepped in between the two of you, his weak face looking at the Colonel then looking at Elvis, still sputtering on the floor. He sighed, "let's get him to a hospital."

You lifted your head triumphantly at Tom, knowing you'd won. You won because you loved Elvis. So you turned back to your man, looking around in a shaky way.

"It's okay baby, it'll be okay," you said, holding his hand tightly.

"What's goin on..."

"You just need some rest baby," you said, looking into his eyes. He looked confused and scared. Your heart broke inside your chest. How could Tom look into his face and not want to get him all the help that a man could need?

The ambulance came within the next ten minutes, and they loaded Elvis onto the stretcher. Vernon insisted you join him on the ride over, but you didn't even let Tom try to stake his claim. You held Elvis's hand, running your thumb over his knuckles repeatedly to try and make him feel better.

A few hours later and Elvis was in a hospital bed asleep. Vernon had gone to get the two of you coffees. You were still holding Elvis's hand, and you started to murmur Suspicious Minds and rub his knuckles in tempo.

Maybe it was the music, your touch, or the sweet combination but a few minutes later, Elvis's eyes flickered open. He still looked frightened.

"Y/N? Baby?" He asked in hoarse voice.

"Elvis, oh thank God." You said, holding his hand and bringing it to your chest. You knew he'd wake up, that he would be okay, but the thought of losing him for even a second scared the hell out of you.

"Am I okay?"

"Yes, yes, well...no, not now but you will be baby. Doctors said you're exhausted. Overworked yourself."

Elvis went to move out of bed, groaning as he spoke, "I got a show -"

"Baby, it's been cancelled. The shows for the season. They're all postponed to September."

"Those fans... they saved to see me now not September."

"Elvis you're worth it okay? You don't have to do everything for them."

Elvis tried to get up again but you stopped him, placing a hand on each of his shoulders to keep him in the bed. He whacked it away but didn't try to rise, "baby I know it sounds mighty selfish but they care lots about me. People be spending fortunes just to see me and I ain't wanna disappoint nobody."

"Elvis, you're a person. True fans who love you might be bummed but they will understand. You're only human."

He was crying softly, and you could tell that he was struggling internally. Elvis was exhausted. He had been doing the same show over and over and over with little to no breaks in between. You knew it killed him to disappoint fans but he couldn't take more, his body couldn't take more.

"You shouldn't feel guilty, Elvis. It's normal."

He nodded but he didn't believe it. So you spent as much of the day as you could trying to make him believe it, trying to convince him that his health greatly outnumbers fans or songs. You love him and they love him, but they can't show him that love if he's dead.

"You've got so much living to do, so much life left to live. Don't let this be the end of it just because of some stupid manager."

He made a slow recovery. Tom had worked him so hard that it seemed the very muscles in his body cried when they tried to move, but you were with him every step of the way. You kissed him for each movement, spoke to him until the late hours of the night and worked on all the songs he couldn't seem to get out of his mind. He was yours and you wanted, needed, him to be with you forever. That was the deal.