The Doc

Chapter 13

Joel walked into his bedroom after a long, boring guard duty —and was surprised to find Alice lying on his bed. It was half past noon, she was never home during the day.

"No open clinic today?" He asked, walking over to the closet and shrugging out of his coat.

"I don't feel well." Her voice was laced with annoyance.

He removed his boots and stuffier pieces of clothing and then padded over to her. There was an untouched glass of water, a pile of untouched crackers, and a bucket. 

"I'm sorry. 's there anything I can do to help?"

She opened her eyes long enough to glare at him. 

"No." Her breathing was heavy, overly rhythmical. He reached out and touched her forehead with the back of his hand. "I don't have a temperature," she hissed.

"Jus' making sure." He sat down on the edge of the mattress.

"If you shake this bed, you're a dead man."

He immediately stood up, like a child who'd been scolded, and opted to pull up a chair. He hated seeing her like this. "Would you like me to call Danny?"

"What's Danny going to do?" Alice scoffed. "It's probably just food poisoning." Her eyes were still closed.

"He might find somethin' for the nausea," Joel offered rather sheepishly. If he was being honest, he felt a little helpless.

"I'm fine... I'm just... hot."

It was the most she was going to ask for help, and Joel took the cue.

He stood and began to slowly remove her shoes. She didn't seem to mind. Even helped him by picking her leg up some. Then her hands went to her belt, and he took that cue, too. He helped gently pull her pants off.

When he moved to remove the hoodie she wore over her shirt she pursed her lips and said, "Uh-uh." Her eyes wrinkled shut, her whole body tensed. One of her hands moved to the edge of the bed, in the direction of the bucket. A small whimper escaped her throat.

He waited until the wave of nausea subsided before he touched her again, to lay a thin sheet over her legs. She didn't object. He walked over to the window and cracked it open, allowing the fresh winter air to fill the room. He looked around, grabbing a clean t-shirt and soaking it in the cold snow. He wrung it out before heading back over to his chair next to the bed. Careful not to rub or jostle Alice, Joel reached over to softly place the shirt on her forehead. The tension in her face eased and she bent her head toward one of his hands. He moved it to cup her face. She leaned into the touch.

He placed his other hand against her neck. "Tell me where."

"This is good, but maybe my forehead and above my ears. And my arms—my arms are hot."

"I might jus' have to cut you out of that hoodie," he chuckled softly.

Alice smiled faintly, eyes still closed. "I might take you up on th—" She clamped her jaw shut as another wave of nausea rolled through her. Her body tensed and she bent her knees up beneath the sheet. Her face scrunched together. A moment later, her arm reached down, fumbling blindly for the bucket.

"Don't move I got it." Joel grabbed the bucket and brought it to her hand. She gripped it hard, knuckles turning white. "Deep breathes, baby girl. In through your nose, and slowly out your mouth. In through your nose"—she gripped his wrist with her free hand and breathed in time with him—"and slowly out through your mouth."

They did this several times.

When the nausea passed, Alice opened her eyes. They were glossy with unshed tears. She blinked them away. "I hate vomiting."

He put the bucket back on the floor and smiled. "It's okay if you have to. It's nothing to be embarrassed 'bout. I'm not gon' run away!"

"No," she said, sliding her hand from his wrist to take his hand. "I hate it. It frightens me."

"Why?" Joel wasn't sure what she was about to say, but the way her face looked, the way her eyes darted from his then away...

"When I was a second year resident, I was working the ER and a kid was brought in by his mother. He was a sweet little kid; loved robots. She brought him in because he was loosing weight, had these little red spots on his skin and was regularly getting infections. When he started vomiting constantly, I sent him for a blood test. Leukaemia; a really aggressive form. The kid lost his battle 6 months later. I've hated vomiting ever since. It's stupid, I know."

Joel squeezed her hand, and used the other one to cup her face. He kissed her temple. "It's not stupid. Not at all. I'm so sorry." Alice only shrugged. "That's why you never drink much alcohol isn't it? Why you always cut your food up into tiny piece before you swallow." It wasn't a question.

She nodded. "I think if I choke, I'll gag and then start vomiting."

He cocked his head to the side. "But you've no problem swallowing other things..."

A smile bloomed across her face and she laughed. "That's different. I have control of that. This," she looked away, "this is different."

He leaned down to kiss her forehead again. 

"How can I help? What can I do?" He leaned his forehead into hers.

Her eyes looked wary, unsure. "Stay with me? Just in case?"

"I can do that, baby girl." He kissed her again on the temple and moved the chair to sit closer to her.