nevermore_logs | (no subject)

WHO: Patrick, George and a little Wrath
WHAT: Unaware his girlfriend is missing, Patrick goes home and needs to see a doctor
WHEN: Tuesday?
WHERE: Patrick and George's, then hospital
WARNINGS: Vomit?

The headaches had started soon after being punched in the face by one very strong saint, and Patrick had written them off as normal. He had gotten himself checked out, so he wasn't worried. What he didn't know was that the whiplash from George's blow had caused damage that wasn't readily apparent when he had gotten himself checked out the first time.

The headaches had gotten worse over the next week and now Patrick found it hard to concentrate on anything else. Instead of going to Clio's where he would have been immediately distracted by a frantic Nicholas who would have informed him Clio was missing, he turned his phone off and went home.

He felt dizzy and sick and when he walked in the door he didn't cheerfully announce his presence like he usually did. Instead he went immediately to collapse on the sofa and then he grunted loudly to let people know he was home.

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"I had a pastry," George said, hugging Patrick's legs. "It tasted like guilt. Are you sure you're going to be okay? Your brain isn't, like, detached from the rest of you?"

Patrick looked down on his brother, hardly able to keep the adoration off his face. He idolised George so much and he was thankful this hadn't tarnished that in the least.

"They're doing...something to make the swelling go down. And I didn't have any seizures so it's not serious." He could have if he had let it go on any longer. "I might be able to eat if you found something that wasn't guilt pastries, but only if you have something too." He still felt nauseated but he was hungry and willing to risk it.

"I'll go find something," George said, rolling off the bed and going down the hall in search of a vending machine. He returned with several bags of chips and a candy bar. "You don't think these will re-swell your brain, right?"

"I don't think that's how it works," Patrick said, amused. He reached for one of the bags of chips and dug in. "At worst, I'll just vomit it all back up again. Sorry about the floor, by the way."

"It's your floor too," George said with a shrug, propping himself on the side of the bed. "If you wanted to puke all over it for fun the way Kellan does, you could."

Patrick chuckled at that, one hand on his head. "I think I can handle not puking for fun. Will you stay until they make you leave?"