The Fan- A Bastille/Dan Smith Fanfiction

Chapter 16

I walk Raider around the park, occasionally taking a sip of my coffee. It's a nice morning for winter, birds chirping clearly in the crisp air. Raider keeps trying to eat the gravel as we walk along, thinking it's some sort of strange food. I laugh as he slurps up a few then spits them out in disgust, only to lick up some more.

I finish my drink and head towards home when a searing pain grips my stomach, the coffee threatening to make a reappearance. In a flash I run to the nearest trashcan just as my stomach heaves, emptying itself of all that I've eaten this morning- which isn't much. I shakily stand, swiping the back of my hand across my mouth.

A warm touch gently rests on my shoulder. "Ma'am? Are you alright?" The voice is that of a concerned woman, probably in her late forties.

I turn and smile unconvincingly. "Yes, I am fine. I think I might've just had some bad coffee. It's nothing, really. But thanks."

She nods and smiles, but looks skeptical as she walks away. I take a couple deep breaths, trying to subdue the queasiness. I would throw up again, but there's simply nothing left in my stomach. Slowly, I allow Raider to lead me back home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I insert the key into the lock, and the door clicks as it swings open. My stomach is still rocky, so I decide to lie down and wait for Dan to come home.

Popping a few Tumz into my mouth, I wrap the duvet up around my shoulders and snuggle into the warm comfort of our bed. A wave of exhaustion flows over me, and I gladly welcome the feeling of my heavy eyelids closing. Quickly, I drift off into a fitful sleep.

"Caela. Caela, wake up!" I groggily pry my eyes open at the sound of Dan's voice. He's gently shaking me, a funny look on his face.

I groan, my stomach no better than before. "W-what s'matter? Did something happen?" I slur, trying to sit up. I immediately regret it as my stomach does somersaults and the deep ache in my muscles hits me like a hard slap to the face. The duvet falls from around my shoulders and I shiver without its comforting warmth.

Dan reaches up to feel my forehead and cheeks. "You're burning up. You didn't feel like this this morning did you?" I shake my head no. "Is it even possible to come down with something this quickly?"

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly and say, "Evidently it is. But I wouldn't worry about it, I am sure it's nothing. I'll be fine in a couple of hours."

And I am right. By the time dinner comes around that evening I am feeling a lot better, and even have the appetite to eat something.

~~~~~~~~~~~

This strange sickness, or whatever it is, goes on for a couple more days until abruptly coming to an end. And just as I think I am about to get a reprieve, intense heart burns set in. I find myself having irrational thoughts; am I going to have a heart attack? What if I die? I am way too young for this, there isn't a reasonable explanation why my heart would just fail me now.

Plus on top of everything, as if it possibly couldn't get any worse, I am gaining weight. And I mean weight. Like, my waistline is visibly expanding kind of weight.

Weeks pass like this, and I finally come to a point where I just can't take it anymore. Giving in, I make an appointment with a doctor who I am sure will be able to determine what's wrong with me.

"Well, you seem perfectly healthy," the doctor says as he leafs through my medical records and results. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Why the heck would I be here in the first place if I was "perfectly healthy"?

He stares at me for quite some time before suddenly standing up and leaving the room, saying, "If you'll excuse me. I'll just be a moment."

I sit in silence, dazed and rather annoyed, but before I can get too agitated, the doctor returns with some strangely familiar tools. He hooks them up to a large machine with a monitor and flips the switch to turn it on. The device whirs to life, beeping and buzzing, only adding to my mounting confusion.