wanted most - tracob

twenty four

For the next several days, Troye unfortunately had to get worse before he could get better. The next day Jacob had returned after Tyde's arrival, Troye began coughing up a disgusting gunk that had apparently settled in his lungs, and it killed the older man's ribs. Jacob still visited him though, limping in a way that made Troye want to strangle him for walking. Jacob never really got in the way of Tyde or Kayla when they were visiting as well, he simply handed Troye the basin he'd been given, to cough the gunk from his lungs, when he needed it, and rubbed gently at Troye's lower back.

"Why do you keep coming back," Troye asked on the second day of his coughing up gunk. "I'm disgusting."

"Because you're sick, not contagious, and pitiful," Jacob had told him fondly, wiping sweat off his brow with a cold cloth. "And I kind of like you"

And unfortunately, Troye was sick and pitiful for five days after. For a few of the days, Troye's fever was so high, even with the medicine he was given, that he moaned pitifully for Jacob even if it was only his mother in the room with him.

"Where's my Egghead," he'd whimpered. "Want m'Egghead..."

His mother could do nothing but give him the basin to cough into and stroke his hair sadly, "He's working, baby. He'll visit later, though. He always visits."

Jacob felt horrible that he wasn't there when Troye was asking for him, and firmly considered taking off work since his ankle was only seeming to worsen. But he stayed, and he was glad he did, because on the fourth day that Troye was sick, Nick Grimshaw was sentenced to fifteen years in prison for voluntary manslaughter and grand theft. However, he knew that if Nick Grimshaw was charged for grand theft, then his Robin Hood would no doubt be charged for it as well. But Jacob swore he'd have Olly find Troye a good lawyer since Troye no doubt couldn't afford one of his own, and they'd tell the court all about why Troye had done what he did.

Jacob went straight to the hospital as soon as he could get out of work. He raced straight for Troye's room in the hospital, nodding to the guards as he slipped inside. However, Troye was asleep beneath Jacob's two coats, and Laurelle was reading by the window.

She sighed as she closed her book, looking to Jacob, "It's been a long day."

"Ah..." Jacob said softly, inching over to stroke Troye's hair off his feverish forehead. Troye's nasal tubes, that had become a twenty-four hour thing for the poor man, were whistling softly. "He's been feverish all day?"

"And asking for his 'Egghead'," Laurelle nodded.

Jacob frowned down at Troye, whispering to the sleeping lad, "I'm sorry..."

"He didn't cough up as much mucus today," she said slowly. "I don't know if it's because there's not much left or if because it's settled further into his lungs."

"Let's hope for the first," Jacob replied, but then grinned largely. "Guess who got fifteen years to prison today? Nick Grimshaw."

"The man who shot my baby boy?" Laurelle gasped.

Jacob nodded happily, "Bastard got what was coming to him."

"I'm so happy!" Laurelle breathed in relief. "So Troye is safe?"

"Never really was in danger," Jacob promised. "I wouldn't allow it. But he's going to be ecstatic."

"Something tells me he's just going to be glad that you're here. By the way, why are you walking if you're limping still?"

Jacob simply blushed, taking up his usual chair and then telling Laurelle all about the trial, or what he'd heard from Olly at least. Olly had attended, but Tran requested that Jacob miss out on it if he wasn't absolutely needed. But he wasn't going to miss Troye's trial no matter what. Eventually, Troye stirred awake with a high whine that broke off into a retching cough.