A New Adventure (a Fiddauthor Fanfiction)

>>Six<<

It was Christmas Eve, and Fiddleford was sick. The day before, he had started sniffling and coughing occasionally, making Ford think it had something to do with his 'secret' nicotine addiction. So naturally, he brushed it off, not giving it any thought.

However, the day before that, Fidds engaged Ford in a ruthless snowball fight outside; the reason it was ruthless was because Ford was determined to win. Fidds had been pelted with a mound of snowballs before he got in his second toss, forcing him down into the two feet of snow on the ground. Ford ran over to help him up, but was sabotaged and drug down to the ground beside Fidds. They laid there, laughing for what felt like hours.

Ford hadn't gotten sick. He hadn't been sick since he was nine or ten, actually, so this didn't surprise him. What did surprise him was the sudden outburst of sneezing, coughing, and groaning coming from Fidds' side of the dorm at two-thirty in the morning.

"H-hey! Are you okay?" Ford had whispered, flipping the light switch.

Fiddleford was curled into a ball surrounded by kleenex. He coughed hard and long before managing to get out, "Heh, probably not."

Ford placed a hand on his friend's forehead; burning hot, just as he had suspected. "Fidds, we should really take you into the doctor. You have a fever."

Fidds shook his head, "Pa told me all doctors are quacks. Never been to one in m'life."

Ford folded his arms, "I am taking you to the doctor regardless, Fiddleford. Come put a coat on while I call a taxi."

Fidds groaned louder, only causing him to cough again. He pushed his curly hair out of his face, placed his glasses on his nose, and pulled his slippers on. "The doctor's office ain't even open this time o'night, Ford."

Ford held the landline up to his ear, "Yes, but the emergency room is."

Fidds slapped Ford's arm, "This ain't no emergency, Stanferd. I need some medicine. Don't we got any Tylenol?"

Ford hung up the phone, "Oh! Yes, we do!" He scrambled through his desk drawers, pulling out a nearly empty bottle of medicine. "I promise I'll run to the store in the morning to grab more. I get migraines. Took some of this stuff every day during the semester."

Fidds smiled, taking two of the tablets. "You act like I didn't notice that. Thought ya had some kinda...addiction."

Ford laughed, "No, no. I would never. Just for the migraines, I swear."

He walked over, wrapping an arm around Fidds and helping him back to his bed. He radiated heat; Ford held a hand on his side were his skin was slightly exposed, and his skin felt like a hot stove. Ford wanted so badly to help his friend, to heal him.

Fidds sat on his bed. " 'M sorry I got sick, Stanferd. I shouldn't of been so stupid. Should'a never started that fight."

Ford sat next to him, placing his hand on Fidds'. "Don't be idiotic. That was the most fun I have ever had in the snow. Even though you're sick now, you shouldn't regret that."

Fidds looked away, tearing up. "I'm gonna ruin Christmas. I was s'pose ta cook. I'm gonna be useless."

Ford rested his hand on Fidds' cheek, turning him to look him in the eye. "The fact that I get to spend Christmas with you makes this Christmas the best I've ever had."

Fidds was full-on crying when Ford pulled him into his embrace. The two laid in Fidds' bed together, cuddling until they both passed out.

* * * * *

Sunlight was bursting through the cracks in the blinds, and was shining right on Ford's closed eyes. He rubbed them with the hand that Fidds wasn't laying on and peered around the room. It certainly didn't feel like Christmas Day, although he didn't have Stanley to come and jump on him, telling him to wake up. He looked down at Fiddleford, who was still sound asleep in his arms, though his face was turning red and he was starting to burn up again.

Ford squeezed Fidds tightly in his arms. "Dear, I believe it is time to wake up," Ford whispered into his ear.

Fidds scrunched his nose, "What time's it?"

Ford was unsure. "Time to wake up, that's for sure."

Fidds smiled. "That was cheesy, even fer you."

The two both sat up, and Ford placed a gentle hand on his forehead again. He was flaming hot once more. Ford sighed and stood, walking toward the bottle of Tylenol which he had left laying on his desk.

"After you take these, I'm going to walk to the Walgreens down the street and get you some real medicine," Ford said, shaking two pills into his hand.

Fidds stretched, then coughed. "Probably not a bad idea."

"I feel bad leaving you alone. Are you going to be okay?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ford. It's only for a lil' while. I'll freshen up and maybe start bakin' something if I'm feelin' better." 

Ford shrugged on his warm, fuzzy coat. "You sure? I can take a taxi so I'll be back sooner."

Fidds stood and took his six-fingered hand. "Stop babblin' and just go already. I'm gonna be fine."

The two shared a short hug, then Stanford waltzed out of the dorm. Fidds shook his head, laughing quietly. He walked into the bathroom with a clean pair of jeans and a Christmas sweater that had little pixelated trees on it. He sat on the edge of the bathtub, turning the dial on the faucet and filling it up with hot water. He thew his top onto the floor and stood up, looking in the mirror.

He hated his body. He was too skinny, his ma had always told him that. He brushed his fingertips lightly across his ribs, which were very prevalent, and up to his neck, which had a small scar right in the crook. A fight with his older brother had resulted in violence, but only he walked away injured. Fidds closed his eyes tightly. He couldn't look at himself any longer.

Fidds eased his way into the scalding water, hoping it would cleanse him of his flaws.

* * * * *

When Ford returned home with his bag full of cold medicines, Fidds was still in the bathtub. An hour had passed since Ford had left, and he still had not left the bathroom. Ford knocked gently on the door.

"Fiddleford? Are you okay?"

No answer.

Ford knocked more aggressively this time. "Fiddleford?"

Still no answer.

"I'm coming in!" Ford shouted now. He opened the door to find Fiddleford had fallen asleep in the bathtub. The water was getting cold. His fever was returning.

Ford shook Fidds' shoulder gently. "Fiddleford, wake up. You need to get out of the water."
      
      There was still no response. Ford was starting to get nervous. He pulled the plug out of the drain, then removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Looping one arm under his knees and the behind his back, he hauled his friend from the bathtub to his bed. He felt his face. His fever was getting out of control.

     He pulled out the extra strength cold medicine and managed to get a healthy dose down his throat. Ford toweled him off and covered him with a thin blanket.

      Fiddleford began tossing and turning, and with a gasp he was back with the living. "Ford! How did I..." He sat up, looking around with a dazed expression. "Did I fall asleep?"
 
     Ford chuckled, still nervous. "Yeah, you did. In the bathtub, no less."
  
     Fidds was suddenly very aware that he was naked under his blanket. His face turned bright red, and he stuck his head under the blanket with the rest of himself.
 
     Ford stood up. "I'll grab your clothes," he said walking back to the bathroom." He stopped in the doorway, "You're beautiful, by the way."