April Fools?

Flu, Flu, Oh the Terrible Flu

Paul Farrell - the semi-retired paramedic on-duty at that night's show - had just poured himself a cup of tea from his thermos when one of the producers walked quickly into his little room backstage and fixed him with a resigned (and slightly frightened) look.

Paul had worked on Takeaway almost since its inception, and he knew exactly what that look meant.

Sighing, he put his mug down and grabbed his bag - gesturing for the producer to lead the way.

What have you two done this time? he mused exasperatedly to himself as he stepped out onto the studio floor and was directed over to the huddle.

The crowd parted to allow him passage, and he swore that his heart skipped a beat or two when he saw the boys on the ground.

"Alright, first things first" he greeted, kneeling down beside Ant, "What happened?"

Ant shrugged, looking pale and scared.

"I don't know" he replied quietly, voice wobbling the tiniest bit, "We were in the middle of a link and then he just dropped."

Paul lifted his head from his bag and frowned at the younger man - dark eyes glinting in question.

"Has he been feeling ill today that you know of?" he wondered, switching his gaze between the two men.

Again, Ant shrugged.

"Something's been off with him - he's been really quiet today, but I thought he was planning something" he answered, voice now tinged with guilt. At Paul's slightly confused look, he elaborated "I thought this was a prank at first, but then I couldn't wake him up-"

Paul stopped him there with a strong hand on his shoulder, silently telling him he didn't need to say any more.

"Okay, well let's start by getting him back with us, hey?" he suggested kindly, relieved when Ant nodded - a grateful look in his eyes.

Dave - one of the camera operators - was directed by the medic to slowly lift Dec's legs into the air and hold them at about a forty-five degree angle, as Paul then busied himself with getting a set of vital signs.

Everything seemed a bit off - Dec's heart rate and respiration rate were high, but his blood pressure was low, as was his blood sugar level. But it was his temperature that explained all of these - as well as going a fair way to explaining his current unconscious state.

Having had his suspicions, Paul knew he was going to get a high reading as soon as he'd heard the shrill beeping of the thermometer.

Seeing the 39.9 on the screen just confirmed his gut instinct.

Ant must have caught sight of the reading over his shoulder, as Paul was startled by the sound of him swearing darkly under his breath.

"I knew it" he muttered, sounding annoyed with himself.

Paul opened his mouth and was about to assure him that there wasn't anything he could have done, when a weak groan brought both of their gazes back to the motionless figure on the floor.

"Declan?" Paul queried, bending a little closer as another noise - this one more akin to a whine - drifted up to their ears.

"Decs? You okay?" Ant spoke up, putting a hand on his friend's chest.

In response, hazel eyes fluttered open and gazed around the room confusedly before they finally settled on Ant's face.

"Hey, nice of you to rejoin us" Ant teased - relief flooding his chest as his best friend tried to smile up at them.