STRANGER THINGS IMAGINES

Boss | Jonathan Byers

Prompt: "You aren't the boss of me."

Jonathan Byers was a man who hated being sick, who hated when others cared for him and especially hated it when he felt useless and weak. He always wanted to be the one to help people, to cheer them up and be their shoulder to lean on when they needed it. And he couldn't do that when he was sick, trapped in a fever and with a head pounding like it was being smashed with a hammer.

When he woke up he felt like his skin was on fire and his nose was so stuffy it made his voice sound weird. He thought about getting up, but when he went to lift his head from the pillow, the world around him spun and blurred, eliciting a groan as he collapsed back against the sheets.

You were by his side in a moment, kneeling next to the bed so he didn't have to strain to look at you. He tried to move again, twisting his body so he could attempt to get his legs off the bed, but instead, you were shaking your head and running a hand over his forehead and cheeks.

"Hey, you probably shouldn't move, love. You've got a pretty high temperate and a bad cold mixed with it." You spoke softly to him, trying to calm him as he kept trying to leave the bed and get on with his day.

"But, I've got to take Will to school and I have a history assignment to hand in and a shift at work. I don't have time to be sick, Y/N. Not today." You frowned at his words, but gently placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him down slightly, earning you a glare.

"Jonathan, your mum took Will to school, Nancy is going to hand in your assignment and I called your work to say you aren't coming in today. You need to rest and eat the soup I'm going to go grab you and-."

"Wait, you called my work to cancel my shift?" The anger came then, the furious look of pain, frustration and annoyance all colliding together on his face as he looked at you.

"Yes. It's not like you can work when you can hardly stand up straight Jon. Look, I know how much work means to you and-." You tried to explain, tried to tell him everything you had organised for him but instead he was pushing you away and cutting over you again.

"God damn it Y/N! You had no right to cancel my shift. My family needs the money and I need to work to save for college. I don't care if I'm a little sick or tired, I need those shifts, Y/N." He was yelling now, voice rising as he stood from the bed, body shaky and face red with overwhelming rage. You stepped away from him, noticing the strong anger in his brown eyes before you tried to speak again.

"For fucks sake Jonathan. I get you need to work, but your own health is more important than one missed shift. Now get back into that bed, please." At this point, he was towering over you, his skin slick with sweat from the fever, and you could see he was trembling, but he didn't back down. Instead, he glared at you and pressed his hands to his hips.

"You aren't the boss of me." The words were spat out from his mouth, and for a moment you just stood there, shocked at his sudden immature statement. And then you let out a bitter chuckle, picking up your jacket and bag from his desk chair and walking towards his bedroom door.

"You know what? You're right. I'm not the boss of you, I'm just your partner wanting to help you get better so you can go back to school and go back to work. But hey, looks like I'm not needed since you know best. Seeya, Jonathan." You left his bedroom then, closing the door with a loud slam and quickly leaving the house before your own anger consumed you.

Jonathan tried to follow, he tried to take back his words as he realised how much he had messed up, but as soon as he got one foot into the hallway, his body shook and stomach swirled with nausea. He ran a hand through his unruly hair and fell back onto the bed after he heard the sound of your car pulling out of the driveway, and all he could do was kick himself in anger, curl up in the blankets and will his sickness away. 

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