Sickness

Chapter 8

When Mike opened his eyes, Tré was asleep resting against his shoulder. His bladder had woken him up. He moved Tré gently and stood up, looking over at Billie.

He frowned and moved closer. He was deathly pale, his eyes looked like they were sunken in and had dark circles under them. Mike pinched the skin on Billie's hand and found that it didn't bounce back like normal. Based off of previous knowledge, Mike knew Billie was dehydrated.

He called out to Tré to wake him and then picked Billie up, heading to the car and only stopping to put his shoes on.

He climbed into the back with Billie, rubbing his neck as he slept. He wanted his friend back.

When Tré pulled up, Mike ran inside with Billie and handed it over, explaining the situation in a mess of words and stutters. The doctors took Billie to a room and assessed him before putting a drip in his hand.

When they came back to Mike, they told him Billie had a rare stomach bug. This was why his body couldn't fight it off and why Billie was so unwell. This was also why he was dehydrated, from throwing up so much. The doctors said they had given him fluids which would hydrate him again and also other medicines to get rid of the bug.

Mike sighed in relief. Finally some good news.

They let Mike and Tré go back to see Billie. The singer was still in the hospital bed, still in a drug induced sleep. He already had some of his colour back, and his breathing was normal. Mike sat next to his bed and took his friends hand, happy to see him somewhere where they could take care of him, better than even he could.

He felt a twinge of guilt at the fact that he had let his friend suffer this long. They could have taken him in earlier and then he wouldn't have suffered for so long. He couldn't even imagine how bad Billie had been feeling.

He rubbed his thumb over the back of Billie's hand, happy to see him relaxed and resting.

And as Tré came in with coffee, Mike decided maybe it would be okay for him to relax now. Maybe even rest a little bit too.

He was about to relax when he was reminded of why he woke up in the first place; he had to piss like a racehorse. He dropped his coffee onto the table and bolted into the bathroom, causing Tré to blink at the sudden movement.

When he came back, he sat down and breathed out. That was close. Tré giggled quietly. "Better now?"

Mike nodded and laughed as he picked his coffee up, sipping it and pulling a face, looking to Tré, who simply shrugged. "It's hospital shit, man. Don't be expecting your elegant brand of coffee."

Mike looked at the liquid and shrugged, resuming his sips. At least it was coffee, after all.