SiX the Musical (& Cast) Oneshots

Sick - Cast

TW: Sam, just Sam, Sam is sick, Dale's a good boy, Matt's so helpful it's crazy, hospital aaaa

"Sam, I'm off," Matt called to Sam, who was still in her bed, reading with Dale.

"Uh-huh. Have a great day!" she called back to her husband who was leaving for a business trip, and wouldn't be back until the next Monday. Gene and Nick were on vacation, which left Sam to have an entire five days to herself. With Dale of course.

She finally pulled herself off the bed to feed Dale, who had been waiting patiently at her feet.

As she set the bowl down on the table, Dale started encircling her.

"Dale, baby, are you okay?" she bent down to stroke Dale's head, who only barked gently, licking her.

"Ew, Dale. What's up bud?"

He wouldn't stop, even after Sam had given him his breakfast. He followed her upstairs and back to bed.

"Daley, what's the matter? Are you not feeling okay?" she asked him once again, after noticing that he was following her around. He only gave her a few more licks, before pushing her down on the bed and closing the door.

"Dale?"

Dale was acting up, and Sam knew that he had sensed something, but Sam had no clue as to what it was.

"Dale?" she called once again, but Dale ignored her and walked to her bedside table, nudging his nose at the jug of water.

"You want water? I left some for you downstairs, bud."

But Dale kept nudging.

"Oh, you want me to drink some. Okay... You know best, after all." Sam got up weakly and took a sip of water which was already in the cup, before lying back down again, suddenly feeling a pang in her forehead.

"Oh lord, Dale." She choked out, squeezing her eyes shut as she rests her hand on her forehead.

"Dale, bring me the paracetamol, will you?" It wasn't miraculous that Dale could understand her. Of course, a dog knowing what a paracetamol packet looks like is "crazy" enough (as Gene liked to put it), but Dale was much more aware of his surroundings than the four of them thought.

"Thank you," she whispered, stroking Dale on the head. As she popped a tablet in her mouth, the surging pain came back, like a knife stabbing her in the forehead.

She groaned loudly, making Dale begin to stir.

"Where's my phone?" she groaned out, but the pain was so excruciating that she couldn't move. But only for a short while. Five or so seconds later, the pain subsided.

"That's weird..." Sam thought, but still reached for her phone to dial her husband's number.

And suddenly the pain came surging back once again.

"Dale!" she cried, tears running freely as she called her greyhound for support. He jumped onto the bed and lay beside her, resting a paw on her forehead as she winced.

"I'm g-gonna c-call daddy," she groaned to Dale, who whimpered beside her, still licking her cheek.

"It's okay Daley, Mommy's okay," she reassured in a baby voice, but the creaks and groans weren't doing good in consoling him.

The call dial rang for four counts before Matt finally picked up.

"Hey, Sam, what's up?"

"C-co-come b-b-back," Sam whispered, pleading that Matt could hear her on the other side.

"Are you okay? Why do you want me to go back? Are you good?"

"P-p-p-please c-c-co-" Sam tried to finish but she passed out mid-sentence, her phone slipping out of her hand and falling off the bed.

"Sam? What was that noise? Are you there? Sam?"

Dale howled, nuzzling his head in the crook of Sam's neck, trying to wake her up again. This howl was different from his other barks, and Matt knew his wife was definitely in trouble.

"OH SHIT OKAY. I'm coming back as fast as I can." He hung up.

It only took Matt ten minutes, because he couldn't have gone far in such a short period. As the key turned in the lock, Dale bounded down the stairs to Matt, who bent down to rub him on the head before letting him lead him to his ill wife.

"Sam?" he called as he entered the bedroom, where Sam lay unconsciously, her face tangled in her fuchsia-coloured hair. He crawled onto the bed and took her in his arms, resting her head on his chest as he felt her forehead, his arm snaked around her waist for support.

"Any more and she'll be warmer than the sun," he joked, but Dale walked out of the room.

"Not the time for the jokes, got it."

He took a wet cloth to lie on Sam's forehead while he called an ambulance, but as he did so, Sam was waking up.

"Hey..." Matt whispered as Sam's eyes creaked open. She tried to sit up but failed miserably, falling back onto the bed as the pain restarted. She cried in pain as she took Matt's hand and held it to her forehead, crying.

"And that's my cue to call the emergency services."

Dialling 9-1-1, he put the phone to his ear, his hand still to Sam's forehead. It wasn't long before an ambulance appeared.

"Where do I leave my dog?" Matt asked one of the paramedics.

"Ask a neighbour maybe?"

Ten minutes later they reached the hospital.

Matt's heart broke to see his beloved wife lying on a stretcher, looking helpless.

"May I hold her hand?" he asks one of the staff.

"I don't see why not."

Matt took one of Sam's hands in his own as the doctors lead them into an operating room.

"What did you say happened?"

"I left for work, and then ten minutes later she called me, and she was trying to get some words out. I could hear her vaguely say 'Come home' but what she said after was blurred, and then I heard the phone drop, probably to the floor, and our dog Dale started barking so I knew something was up. When I got home, I found her lying on the bed unconscious and with a raging fever. I went to get a cold cloth to put on her forehead but she woke up and started screaming in my arms, holding my hand to her forehead. She tried to sit up but she just flopped back down and went back to unconsciousness."

"How warm was she?"

"I didn't have time to use a thermometer, but very, very warm."

The doctors all looked at each other as if having a conversation using their eyes and expressions.

"She seems to be showing signs of meningitis, as far as we can tell."

"How bad is it?"

"1 in every 10 cases of bacterial meningitis is fatal... And she seems to be that one in ten."

"Can you do anything to save her?"

"Hopefully."

Though dissatisfied with their response, Matt stormed out the window, well, almost, because as he was about to open the door, the heart rate monitor stopped beeping.

"Fuck."