Without You

31. You're Different

A/N - Well, it's that time of the week again! I think basically the only things keeping me sane at this point in time are Ant and Dec and writing this story. 😂 Thanks to all you loyal people for sticking with it, despite its having gone on for 3.5 months now! A huge thank you to everyone who leaves comments - I may not always have time to reply, but I always read them and they never fail to make me smile. I love seeing your reactions to the plot! Thanks again for reading, and enjoy! -H. x

"Declan Joseph Oliver Donnelly, if you do not eat something in the next 10 minutes...."Ali trailed off, not sure what she could still threaten her husband with anymore. They'd basically covered everything in the past five days, and nothing had worked. Yes, he would eat a few bites here and there after some solid nagging on Ali's part – just enough food to stay alive, really – but he never properly ate anymore....He just sort of picked at his food for a while before pushing away an essentially full plate. Ali was at the end of her tether.

Dec gazed blearily at her from his seat on the couch, where he was half sitting, half lying down. His face was pale, the only bit of color two bright red patches on his cheeks from his raised temperature. He'd had a consistent 101-102°F fever ever since arriving in Portugal, and he just couldn't seem to shake it. His throat had improved somewhat – it no longer felt like someone was pouring acid down it every time he swallowed – but he was so congested he couldn't breathe through his nose, and he'd developed a horrid, hacking, increasingly wet cough that just would not leave him alone at night. He'd only been able to sleep a maximum of 2-3 hours each day, instead spending his nights alternating between dozing, coughing, blowing his constantly running nose, and crying.

Ali was beyond frustrated with her husband. She had tried everything to try to break through his walls, but nothing had worked. At this point, she was convinced he was just not eating out of sheer stubbornness. The most annoying thing for her was that he'd completely lost his voice three days ago, so he had had a valid excuse for not speaking to her and answering her questions. Although to be honest, he was able to croak a bit now – so he wasn't exactly unable to talk anymore – but he had a ways to go before he got his voice fully back. 

The day he'd lost his voice, Ali had finally insisted on getting a doctor out to see him, ignoring his feeble gestures of protest, convinced there had to be something they could do. But no, the doctor had merely told them that it seemed Dec had one of the worst viral illnesses she'd seen in quite some time, and the only cure was time and rest...She'd also said that Dec was severely run down, and needed to look after himself better if he wanted to prevent further illness in future with his currently weakened immune system. Dec had merely rolled his eyes at that, his expression one of sad resignation.

"Declan! Eat something!" Ali insisted, voice sharp with an obviously annoyed undertone to it. She honestly couldn't understand sometimes how Ant had put up with this man for nearly 30 years. He could be so frustrating to live with at times! When Dec continued staring blankly at his plate, eyes glazed over with a faraway look, pain and guilt swirling in his lifeless irises, Ali just lost it. 

"Right, that's it. You know what? I'm not going to bother trying to look after you anymore if you're not going to make even the slightest bit of effort to actually live. I get it, you feel miserable, but that's no excuse to stop living! You've not shaved since you got here, you've not showered, you don't even move from this damn couch except to go to the bathroom, like, once a day...It's a wonder your kidneys haven't shut down yet! Seriously, Declan, I'm sick and tired of you moping around like your world's ended! It hasn't – why can't you see that?!"