Random Fandom One-Shots

Sick Shawny - BMW

Homie, I just threw this together with a little help from Copilot. Bear with me here.

WORD COUNT: 1233
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Jack stumbled down the short staircase, rubbing his eyes to shake off the remnants of sleep. Their uncommonly quiet apartment creaked under his weight.

As he reached the bottom step, Jack's gaze fell upon the red couch. There, sprawled across the bright cushions, was Shawn Hunter—his half-brother, his friend, and the person who always managed to find trouble even in the most mundane situations.

Shawn's eyes fluttered open, revealing a hint of exhaustion. His usual mischievous glint was replaced by a dull haze. Jack frowned. "Hey," he said softly, "you okay?"

Shawn nodded, but it was a half-hearted attempt. His skin was pale, and the shadows under his eyes told a story of sleepless nights. "Yeah, just tired," he mumbled.

Jack wasn't convinced. He knelt beside the couch, brushing a hand against Shawn's forehead. The heat radiating from his skin confirmed his suspicions. "You've got a fever," Jack declared, his protective instincts kicking in. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Shawn's lips curved into a weak smile. "Didn't want to bother anyone," he admitted. "Besides, it's just a little cold."

"Just a little cold?" Jack scoffed. "You're burning up, Shawn." He stood, heading toward the kitchen. "Stay put. I'll get you some water and—"

"—and chicken soup?" Shawn interrupted, his voice hoarse.

Jack chuckled. "Yeah, chicken soup. It's the universal cure, right?"

As he heated the soup on the stove, Jack couldn't help but think about their unconventional "family." Eric Matthews, their goofy friend, was probably still asleep in his room. And here he was, taking care of Shawn—his brother by blood, but more importantly, his brother by choice. His charming little pain in the ass.

Returning to the living room, Jack handed Shawn a steaming bowl. "Eat up," he ordered. "And don't argue. You need to rest."

Shawn accepted the bowl gratefully, sipping at the broth carefully, wincing as it went down. "Thanks, Jack," he murmured. "You didn't have to—"

Jack cut him off. "Family takes care of each other," he said firmly. "Even when they're stubborn idiots who refuse to admit they're sick."

Shawn's eyes softened. "Guess I lucked out with you," he whispered.

Jack ruffled his hair, ignoring the way Shawn winced. "Yeah," he agreed. "You did."

~~~~~

Jack Hunter had barely settled back into the couch, a blanket draped over Shawn's shivering form, when the apartment door swung open with a dramatic flourish. In walked Eric Matthews, his hair disheveled, wearing mismatched socks, and carrying a cardboard box labeled "Emergency Supplies."

"Behold!" Eric announced, striking a pose. "The great Eric Matthews has arrived to save the day!"

Shawn squinted at him. "Eric, it's two in the afternoon," he croaked. "What emergency?"