Sick
Pairing: Greg Maddux/Tom Glavine
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Hasn't happened, never will.
Summary: Glavine is sick...uh, ill.
Author's Notes: The Braves have been rearranging their rotation often to keep
Maddux on a regular 5-day rest. Therefore, Marquis started between Maddy
and Glavine so this could happen. Naturally, I have an alternate
explanation.
"Well, that was nice. Good to bounce back from a 9-1 loss with a 2-1 win."
"Mmm."
"Hope you'll do as well tomorrow. Phillies lost, too," Maddux grinned.
"Yep."
"So we're back in first."
"I'm aware."
"I - are you okay?"
"Perfectly fine."
Greg Maddux gave his lover a skeptical look. Glavine was already in bed,
sitting up, watching Maddux with only his eyes and looking thoroughly
miserable - to Maddux, anyway, few others could decipher anything from his
carefully controlled expressions.
"Shit..." Grimacing, Maddux crossed to the other side of the room and felt his
forehead. "Fuck, Tommy, you're burning up."
"I'm fine," Glavine protested, trying valiantly to stop his teeth from
chattering.
"Like hell you are. Hold on." He dug through his bag, finally coming up with a
bottle of aspirin. He shook a couple out and filled a glass with water
before returning to the bed. "Here. Take this."
Knowing Greg wouldn't take no for an answer, Glavine did as he was
instructed. "I'm really ok."
"No, you're not. Look, you're shivering. You have a fever, and you're doing
that thing you always do when you have a headache."
"What thing?"
"I don't know! Just...that..."
"I'm..." Glavine trailed off as he realized that everything his lover had just
pointed out was true.
"What?"
"Feeling pretty fucking bad."
As he'd expected, Maddux's expression softened, and he slipped into bed as
well, pulling Glavine into his embrace. "Sh," he said at Tommy's weak
protest of germ sharing. "I've already got everything you do. It'll help
keep you warm."
"'kay."
"You really should see Jeff, you know," Maddux said, referring to the team
trainer Jeff Porter.
"I'm not moving."
"I could go get him-"
"You're not moving, either. He'll only tell me to take aspirin, rest, and
drink lots of fluids."
"Right, fluids. I should get something-"
"Again, you're not moving."
"Well...if you're ok."
"I will be, if you'll shut up and let me go to sleep."
Maddux didn't reply, just held him closer, and they were both asleep within
minutes.
Maddux awoke in the morning - very early morning - to the toilet flushing.
Glavine wasn't there. Sitting up, he quickly located his lover. Glavine
was crouched on the floor, clutching the toilet bowl, a pained expression
on his face.
Greg knelt with him, placing his hand on the back of his neck, rubbing in
circular motions with his thumb. "Hey, you ok?"
Glavine leaned back against him, breathing heavily. "I haven't felt this bad
in a long time."
"Come here," Maddux replied, helping him stand on shaky legs. "Want a shower?"
A nod, and Greg turned on the warm water and helped Glavine into it,
following. "Ya know, I may be sick, but I'm capable of showering by
myself."
"That wouldn't be nearly as much fun. Shut up and relax." A strained chuckle,
and Glavine complied, letting his lover wash his hair and body, not cold
for the moment. Afterwards, Maddux pushed him back into bed. "You need
more rest."
"Guess you're right. But you know..."
"You're not going to be pitching today?"
"I'm not going to be pitching today."
Leaning down, Maddux kissed him, and smiled. "I'll tell Bobby. Go back to
sleep."
"Thank you."
Maddux squeezed his hand, still smiling. "Love you, Tommy."
"Mmm."
Shaking his head, Maddux checked the hall, and, finding it empty, slipped
across to his own room. He took a few moments making it look as if he had
slept there, then dressed and walked down two flights of stairs to the
hall most of the coaches' rooms were on. He knocked on Bobby's door, and
the manager answered immediately, a fact that didn't surprise Maddux
despite the time of 6:30 am. "Maddy...what are you doing up this early."
"I don't think Tommy can pitch tonight, Bobby. Just thought I'd come down and
tell you."
"Why's that?"
"He's pretty fucking sick. Fever, headache, chills. Can't keep anything down.
The works."
"Damn it, first Sanchez, now him? Who's next?"
Maddux refrained from offering himself as the next victim and simply shrugged.
"So why isn't he down here tellin' me this?"
"He's asleep."
"How the hell do you know?"
"'cause I - 'cause he called me this morning looking for aspirin, and I made
him go back to sleep. Figured it was the best thing for him."
"Yeah, you probably figured right." He sighed heavily. "All right. I'll let
the kid know he's starting. Thanks, Maddy." He shut the door as a way of
dismissal. Maddux simply went back up to Glavine's room, trying to slip in
quietly.
Tom opened one eye sleepily and watched him. "Why are you back?"
"Just checking on you."
"I'm fine. I've been sick before. I'm a big boy, and I can take care of
myself."
"But I like being here."
"Yeah, well, that's just strange."
"No it isn't. Don't you want to be with your kids when they're sick?"
"So you're comparing me to your child?"
"Well, no. Or your wife. Don't you feel an obligation to be there when she's
sick?"
"So first I'm your child, then your wife. And an obligation, no less."
"That's not what I meant!"
Glavine felt kind of bad about shooting down Greg's efforts at explanation,
and after all, he was only trying to help. "I know. It's ok. Just come
here, lay back down with me."
Nodding, Maddux lay on top of the covers until Glavine glared at him long
enough that he got underneath, snuggling close again.
"God, I hope I make the game tonight."
"You might not?" Maddux murmured, lips close to his ear.
"Not if I still feel like this."
"Well go to sleep, then. And quit talking to me."
"Why?"
"Because you can't go to sleep if you're talking to me."
Glavine didn't reply, Greg noticed, because he had fallen asleep.
As it turned out, he did make the game, but sat on the end of the bench,
shivering and looking miserable. Maddux sat next to him, making idle
conversation with John Burkett and glaring at anyone who dared venture in
the near vicinity of Glavine.
"Awfully protective, aren't you?" Burkett remarked as the Braves took the
field in the fifth.
"Yes," snapped Maddux. "I can't help it."
Burkett shrugged. "Ok. Just an observation."
"He's hovering," Glavine leaned across to rasp.
"I am not-"
"You are, but don't worry." He glanced up to see the batter hit a ground ball,
and, sure that none of the cameras were on them, he muttered, "I love you
anyway."
Burkett grinned and shook his head. "God, you guys are way too cute. I can't
imagine more people don't notice."
Maddux extended his arm across the back of the bench, surreptitiously brushing
the back of Glavine's neck, then grinned at Burkett. "Nobody's looking,
Burky."
The inning ended on a nice diving play by Marcus Giles, who came into the
dugout and leaned against the wall in front of the three pitchers. "So,
Marc, your boyfriend watching?"
The rookie blushed, then grinned. "He's here," Giles murmured.
"In San Francisco?"
"At the game." Giles shrugged. "He's a rich boy."
"You don't treat me that well," Maddux joked to Glavine, who coughed and
excused himself. The three watched him go down the tunnel for a moment,
then Maddux sighed. "Can't keep anything down. I'll go make sure he's ok."
He slipped out of the dugout, leaving Giles and Burkett alone.
"Don't get fucking caught, kid."
"I won't! I'll be careful. Discrete."
"Whatever you do, don't follow their example," Burkett warned, jerking a thumb
in the direction the two had gone.
"It's different for them. They're established straight. I, on the other
hand..."
"Are unknown? Yeah, now go. You're on deck."
As Marc located his helmet and stepped out of the dugout, Glavine returned
looking pale and withdrawn, while his lover just looked worried. "You ok,
there, Tommy?"
A quick nod from Glavine, and a sigh from Maddux were the only responses
Burkett received. As BJ Surhoff struck out to end the top of the sixth,
Chipper came over to check before heading back to his position. "You doin'
ok, Tommy?"
"I'll be ok tomorrow," Glavine replied, unconvincingly, looking rather sick of
people asking him if he was ok.
Chipper nodded and glanced at Maddux who was glaring at him like he was going
to make a sudden move and attack Glavine. Shaking his head and mumbling
something about lunatic pitchers, Chipper trotted the few steps to third
base.
"Aw, Maddy, you scared him off," Burkett grinned.
"He had to go, anyway. You know, to play? In the game?"
Glavine coughed, and Burkett laughed harder as Maddux tensed, like he wanted
to do something, but then realized he couldn't and sat back again.
Glavine, even feeling bad, spared enough energy to give him a bemused
glance.
"I'm glad you both find me amusing," Maddux grumbled, crossing his arms across
his chest and focusing back on the field. "I'm just worried."
As Glavine started to reply, in what seemed to be a comforting tone, Burkett
tuned them both out.
"Do you feel any better," Maddux asked later that night. The room, despite
Maddux's best efforts, was still freezing, so he'd semi-forced Tommy under
the covers, and his head was now pillowed on Glavine's shoulder as they
lay together.
"A bit," was the soft reply. "I'll be ok tomorrow."
"How will you pitch tomorrow? You've thrown up everything you've eaten today.
You can't have any energy left."
"I said, I'll be ok."
Catching the defensive note, Maddux agreed, tightening his arms around the
still-shivering pitcher. "Are you tired?"
"I won't be able to sleep, not while I'm cold. Luckily, I know from experience
that you are quite adept at warming."
"You want to..."
"If you don't mind my germs."
In reply, Maddux kissed his temple, then slid out from under Glavine, and
proceeded to prove that he was indeed very good at "warming."
And it certainly worked, because afterwards as they lay in an easy
embrace, Glavine blinking drowsily. "Thank you," he murmured.
Maddux stroked his hair, still able to feel his slight fever. "What're you
thanking me for? I'm just..."
"Here," Glavine supplied.
"God, you're getting sappy in your old age."
"Hm. Same age as you, I'm afraid. And I am not sappy."
"I love you, Tommy."
"Love you, too." And then, after a few minutes, "Now who's sappy?"
"Ah, shut up and go to sleep."
Glavine smiled against his warmth. "That's better."