COD Oneshots / shorts

Sick Day (Gaz / Reader)

Summary - A fever, grogginess, an unbearable headache you can't seem to get rid of? You're sick, which isn't something you typically have to deal with, but Gaz is here to make it a little more acceptable. 

Warnings - sickness 

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On a typical day, PT was nothing for you. It was easy, hell, sometimes you even enjoyed it. Doing all that physical activity first thing in the morning woke you up. 

Today, though. Today was very different. You were dragging yourself through PT, looking like an absolute zombie. Gaz noted it quickly and decided he would confront you about it afterward. 

Gaz approached you with a soft smile when you finished your laps around the track. 

"Hey," He said gently. "Something's wrong, wanna fill me in?" 

You looked up at him with tired eyes; your head throbbed, and you had chills. 

"Nothing's wrong, Sergeant." You said, faking a smile. "I'm all good." You added when you saw his skeptical look. 

Gaz looked you up and down and, after a moment, spoke. "You're sick." 

He left no room for argument, as usual. "Go to your room; I'll be there in ten minutes to get you sorted out." 

Being the excellent soldier you were, you followed his orders. You walked groggily to your room, nearly dragging your feet with the movements. Once you got inside, you changed out of your PT uniform into shorts and a tank top. Despite the chills running through you, you were still sweating from the exertion of PT. 

You lay down on your bed, swaddling yourself in your blankets. 

Before you knew it, Gaz knocked gently on your door and came in without waiting for your answer. 

"Alright, dove, let's see what we're dealing with here." He said, approaching your bed. 

He put the back of his hand on your forehead, then your cheeks, checking for fever. "You're burning up." He said. "I'll be right back, don't move a muscle." 

And you didn't. Gaz could tell you to do anything, and you would listen. Working with him in the field made you trust every order he gave without question. This fact, he didn't mind a single bit.

Moments later, Gaz returned with a medical kit and a kettle with tea bags stacked on top.  

You looked at him quizzically. 

"What's all that for?" You asked weakly, your voice hoarse. 

Gaz began unpacking things from the kit, laying them on the bed beside you. 

"Gonna fix you right up, soldier." He said with a slight smile. 

He plugged in the kettle and set out things to make you hot tea—a cup, honey, and a few tea bags you couldn't read the labels on. 

Suddenly, a thermometer was in your mouth, under your tongue. "Hold that there, doll," Gaz said, patting your cheek gently. 

You watched him scurry around for a few seconds, putting a few pillows behind your head and wrapping a blanket around you; he was acting like a mother tending to her sick child. You were getting quite the kick out of it, too. 

"Shit, 101.2 fever." He said, pulling the thermometer from your mouth. "Gotta work to get that down, yeah?" A rhetorical question. 

"I can take care of myself, Gaz." You said, trying to assure him. "I'm not a little kid." 

"I know you're not, dove." He said in return while pouring the water over the tea bag. "But still, let me take care of you just this once, okay?" 

There it was, that stupid smile. The smile that got him anything and everything he wanted from you. You knew you couldn't, and wouldn't, resist his smile. Who in their right mind would even try? "Fine." You spat weakly. 

Gaz brought the cup of tea, gently putting it in your hands. "Alright, Luv. Drink this. I added a bit of honey in it; I know you like your drinks on the sweeter side." 

You took a sip of the hot tea, immediately feeling the soreness of your throat dissipate a bit. 

"Thanks," you said softly between sips. "I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, Gaz." 

He didn't need to be thanked, not out loud anyway. Gaz knew how much you appreciated it just based on the look in your eyes. It was the look you gave him whenever he did anything for you. Whether picking up a pen you dropped or helping you get something off the top shelf. It was beyond evident that his love language was acts of service. 

"Right, you'll stay here in this bed till you're all better, okay?" Another rhetorical question. Gaz knew you wouldn't be moving, even if it wasn't okay with you. 

You laid back, taking another sip of the tea. 

"What blend is this?" You asked, looking down into the cup as you spoke. "Never tasted it before, I don't think." 

"My mum made it. She sent it over for if I get sick. She used to make it when I was a kid." There was a nostalgic smile on his face as he spoke to you. It was a smile you could look at for days with no complaints. 

"She sounds lovely." You said, taking another sip soon after. "Does she always make special blends? Or is this a one-time situation?" 

There was a tone in your voice that indicated to Gaz that you desperately wanted to keep talking. The quiet of the room made you feel nervous. 

"Mum loves blending her teas, it's damn near an obsession now." He said with a light chuckle. "She's always sending over new blends for me to try out. I told her she should start a little tea shop, but that woman never listens." 

Gaz was rustling around in the med kit, pulling out two pills. "Take these; they'll bring that fever down." 

You took the two pills, swallowing them quickly with the tea. 

After a few more moments, Gaz finally sat down in the chair next to your bed, taking a deep sigh. 

"You know," he said, "I always have loved caring for people. I wanted to be a nurse for a long time before I joined." His voice flowed through the air like sweet honey. 

"I was actually in nursing school for a bit, then all that stuff with my dad happened, joined the force, and now I'm here." His tone shifted slightly to something you couldn't read, but you kept listening. 

"This is just my way of caring for people now, I guess." His tone was a bit happier. "I save people every day, and when one of my soldiers gets sick, I get to help them out, too. Pretty great, huh?" His pride in himself and his work was evident in his voice; you could hear it clear as day. 

"I'm glad you get to help people, Gaz." You said softly, putting a hand on his. "You're good at it." 

You two spent the rest of the day like that. With you laying in your bed, listening intently to Gaz talking about himself or the life around him. You didn't mind it, not one bit. You enjoyed listening to him talk right up until the moment you fell asleep. 

"Goodnight, dove," Gaz said, kissing your forehead before leaving the room for the night.