#sick!jon

“I know boss, I’m don’t want to be awake right now either.” A tired voice told him, a bit too loudly for his liking, a sharp pain shooting through his temple.

Jon wrinkled his nose before blinking his eyes open, squinting at the too-bright lights of Tim’s apartment.

It took a minute for his brain to catch-up before he could distinguish what he was doing in Tim’s apartment.

He remembered discussing New Year's plans, and when it became apparent none of them had made any, Martin suggested a small get together at one of their flats. Tim had been the first to volunteer his own, and they’d managed to ‘bully’ him into joining them.

Jon remembers a little bit of the previous night but not much, which he could probably attribute to the alcohol. Leaving him with what he was sure was a nasty hangover.

What he couldn’t understand is why Tim was waking him up at an ungodly hour when he distinctly remembered them having the day after New Years off.

Jon scowled at Tim, looking Tim over, glad that he at least looked as exhausted a Jon felt, and the only words Jon could think to say were, “What the hell?” They even sounded odd to him coming out of his mouth.

Tim snorted, amused with how disheveled Jon was at the moment, “Yeah, I know, but double boss called, demanding we come in,” He said, rolling his eyes, “something about a critical file gone missing. Still don’t know why it couldn’t have waited.”

Ice filled the pit of Jon’s stomach as he processed what Tim was saying. He sat up straight, knowing he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep anyway, with the dread filling the pit of his stomach.

“Don’t look so panicked.” Tim teased, pressing two paracetamol into the palm of Jon’s hand, along with a bottle of water, “ I’m sure it just got misplaced. It won't take long for the four of us to find it.”

Jon nodded, trying to let his co-worker's words ease his nerves.

~

That conversation happened nearly over an hour and a half ago, as they were still filtering through hundreds of statements with no luck in finding the missing file.

Currently, Jon was sifting through the mass amount of papers on his desk to find some semblance of organization. His fingers resting on his temple as he messaged it.

He’d already downed the maximum amount of paracetamol he could take, but it didn’t seem to be doing much for the throbbing in his head. It was a struggle to stay motivated, but he reminded himself that he wasn’t the only one suffering through this.

Jon buried his face into his hands, exhausted, swallowing with a dry clicking. Wincing, he reached for his water bottle, taking a couple big gulp to quench his thirst for the moment.

He was still feeling a bit dehydrated, and the dry air and the dust in archives were wreaking havoc on his poor throat and sinus, leaving him with a fuzzy, tingly sort of ache feeling building behind his eyes that felt all too familiar.

Rubbing the area over his sinus, Jon hoped to quell the feeling, only making it worst until, “HUH’RSHIII!” a heavy sneeze had him bending nearly in half, his nose buried in his hands.

Jon stayed that way for a moment, his head throbbing.

Sniffling, Jon grimaced, feeling the slickness coating his hands. Reaching for a tissue, he blew his nose, pulling a little bottle of hand sanitizer out of his bag.

He used a generous amount, feeling significantly less disgusting afterward.

Someone cleared their throat, and Jon nearly jumped out his skin, his head snapping up to find Martin nervously lurking in the doorway. Jon could feel a hot red flush creep up his face as he wondered how much Martin had seen.

“I brought you some tea!” Martin exclaimed, raising the mug a little to show him. Normally Jon would grip at Martin for making tea instead of working, but honestly, tea sounded terrific.

Jon hastily straightened up some paperwork on his desk, leaving a small empty space for Martin to set the mug, “Any luck finding the file?” Jon asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Martin groaned, setting the mug of tea on his desk, “No, unfortunately,” He answered, “Tim’s convinced that Elias just misplaced it and is trying to blame it on us.”

Jon huffed a soft chuckled, coughing dryly. Martin looked him over, frowning, “How are you doing, by the way?” He asked, worry lacing his tone, “You look…”

“Terrible…” Jon provided, looking up at Martin.

Martin snorted, “I was going to say rough.” He answered, “Can I bring you anything else?” He asked, sounding so earnest that it almost made Jon tear up.

“The tea’s fine, Martin.” Jon answered a bit curtly, “What I’d really like is to find this stupid file?” He groaned.

“Right, I’ll get back to that!” Martin told him, clapping his hands together before standing back up. “Let me know if you change your mind.” He said, hurrying out of the room.

~

Jon stumbled out of his office ten minutes later when it became clear he wasn’t going to find what he was looking for in his office.

A crumpled tissue pressed to the underside of his nose, the box under his arm as it was clear his allergies weren’t going to let up any time soon.  His nose was taking on a pinkish hue from all the abuse.

It was going to only get worst when he entered the stacks.

He could already feel his eyes getting watery, and he was sure they were already a lovely shade of pink. Jon cleared his irritated throat, coughing, rubbing his aching sinuses.

Standing in front of the endless rows of files, he couldn’t help but feel completely overwhelmed, leaning against a cool metal cabinet, sinking down to the floor. His whole body throbbed, eyes stinging with unshed tears as Jon started to realize how long this was going to take.

Jon’s breath snagged harshly, “HAH’GXSSshh! HIH’GXSsht!” He stifled his sneezes harshly, exhaustion seeping into every muscle in his body.

He closed his eyes, resting his head against the cool metal. He just needed a short break…

~

Jon awoke to a cool hand pressed against his cheek.

Opening his eyes, he found Martin's face staring back at him, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, “Hey there.” Martin said, smiling softly, “How are you doing?”

“S’fine just a hangover…” Jon slurred a bit, still feeling a bit hazy, “need to get up.” He tried pulling himself up, but Martin just pushed him back down gently.

“Hangovers don’t typically come with fevers, Jon,” Martin told him, brushing his hair gently away from his face, “I think you should probably call it quits for today. The rest of us can keep looking.”

Jon tried to protest weakly, but he was no match for Martin’s fussing.

~

Jon was already regretting his decision to stay, he was only half listening to what Elias was saying through the thick fog filling his head.

His nose was completely plugged up, yet still managed to sluggishly leak as he pressed a crumbled tissue to his nose, trying not to draw to much attention to himself as he sniffled.

Which apparently wasn’t good enough as Sasha elbowed him lightly, “Blow your nose properly would you.” She whispered, giving him a pointed look.

Jon flushed with shame, looking away still feeling her eyes on him as he folded his handkerchief over his nose, blowing his nose unproductively.

He could feel panic well up in his chest, as the vibrations sparked a sharp itch deep in his nose making him gasp in response, his eyes watering. Jon wasn’t exactly known for having the quietest sneeze, and the last thing wanted to was embarrass himself in front of his co-workers.

Jon rubbed at his septum as discreetly as possible, trying to stave of the building sneeze. It was no use though his chest swelling against his will with hitching breaths, bending nearly in half into cupped hands, “HAH’ASSshiew! HUH’RSHhiew!”

“Oh my gosh bless you boss, you could blow someone away with those!” Tim exclaimed dramatically, “ Need some tissues?” He said, grinning holding out a travel pack of tissue out to Jon as if to patronize him.

“Tib…” Jon answered sternly, trying to shut him up with a watery glare.

But Tim didn’t seem to get the message, “Sorry don’t know anyone named Tib, boss.” He teased Jon.

That was the final straw. Jon got up abruptly, collecting his stuff walking out of the room.

Realistically, Martin knew if he woke him up, Jon would just insist on going back to work, so it would probably just be best to leave him be.

A small shiver ran through Jon’s thin frame, and Martin chewed his lip, ducking out of the room temporarily, returning with a blanket from one of the cots.

He draped it over Jon, carefully tucking it around him, pleased to see the chill leave the other man for the moment.  

Backing away, he admired his handy work, glad that he could at least do this one thing for Jon, even if it was just something small.  

Martin eventually pried himself away knowing, Jon would get after him if he found out he was lingering around when there was work to be done.

~

Basira was next coming in to invite Jon to go drinking with them, figuring with all the stress going around all of them could use a good stiff drink.

She knew he’d probably decline the offer, but she felt like she should ask anyway.

Walking Basira saw Jon hunched over, pressing a palm into his eye socket, his expression pinched.

Raising an eyebrow, she knocked on the door lightly. “Come in…” Jon called out weakly, not even bothering to lift his head when she walked in.

“M’not interrupting some weird psychic moment am?” Basira asked, a sliver of humor slipping into her voice.

Jon chuckled bitterly, “No, I just…” He winced, hissing rubbing his temples, “ have a headache.” He told her. “Not important right now,” He said, looking up at her, the pain still evident in his features, “You needed something?”

Basira rolled her eyes, “You’re ridiculous,” She said, digging through her bag, “and you should have said something.” She pulled out a little bottle of pills, shaking out a pair handing it to them over, “Take these.” Basira told him.

“What are they?” Jon croaked, glancing up, squinting up at her.

“Aspirin, take them,” Basira told them, slipping the pills into his hand, pressing a bottle of water into the other one.

Jon took them with a sip of water, “Uhm…thanks.” He said, pressing the cold water bottle to the back of his neck, in hopes of getting rid of the ache a little faster.

“No problem…Just say something next time, okay.” Basira told him.“You’re allowed to ask for help.” She said before leaving him alone once again with his thoughts.

~

Melanie wasn’t sure why she was even in here. Wrong place wrong time is what she could only guess. But now that Melanie was here, it was hard to ignore what she was seeing.

She’d heard someone in the bathroom, and had thought it had been Martin as he was the one with the allergies, and it had been sneezing that had caught her attention.

But she quickly realized that this sneezing was much louder and not quite as fittish as Martin’s usual fits. Melanie hesitated outside the door for a moment before pushing it open, coming face to face with Jon.

She didn’t know why it shocked her so much to see him, maybe it was just weird to see him doing something so human as blowing his nose.

Jon hadn’t seemed to notice her yet, so Melanie cleared her throat to get her attention, watching him practically leap out of her skin. The was his face flushed with shame, made a sharp pang of guilt pierced her chest.

Which was stupid; she didn’t feel bad for Jon. He was the reason they were in this stupid mess. Still, she found the words she didn’t mean leaving her mouth, “Are you alright?” She asked.

Jon blinked at her almost in a daze like he hadn’t quite heard her, “M’fine.” He mumbled, answering slowly like his thinking was slow and foggy. “Need to…need to get back to work.” He said, pushing past her.

Melanie stared after him shoving down the concern in her chest. If he wanted to be ridiculous, that was his problem, and if anyone asked about the box of tissues that mysteriously appeared on Jon’s desk later, well, she didn’t know how it got there.

~

When Tim walked into Jon’s office, he was caught off guard by the emptiness of it, the man rarely left the archives anymore.

He didn’t plan on lingering long enough for him to come back, not too thrilled about the idea of running into his boss. Though luck didn’t seem on his side today as the office wasn’t as empty as it had first appeared.

Jon was just out of sight leaning against one of the filing cabinets, so still that Tim would have almost believed he were dead, if not for the slow, even rise and fall of his chest.

“Sleeping on the job, boss?” Tim asked, in bitter amusement.

Jon groaned, cracking open an eye, “Don’t think I could if I tried.” He croaked, wincing as he swallowed. “Did you…”Jon hesitated before asking, thinking about his words carefully, not wanting to compel Tim in any way on accident, “need something?”

“Just dropping off some statements, don’t want you going through any weird withdrawals or something.” Tim said, haphazardly dropping the box on Jon’s desk, “I’ll be going now leave you to whatever is going on here.”

Tim turned to leave, pausing in the doorway, “You look like crap, by the way, maybe you should consider getting some actual sleep, not that I care.” He said, going before Jon could get a chance to respond.

~

Tim walked into the break room, almost turning around to leave when he saw the other archival assistants lounging about, but he really needed a cup of tea, so he pushed through the awkwardness.

He was looking for the kettle when Martin cleared his throat, “I already started a kettle. I can make you a cup if you’d like.”He mumbled.

Tim grunted in agreement, flopping down on the couch with Melanie, pulling out his phone in an attempt to avoid idle chatter.

The message wasn’t clear apparently, “Has anyone noticed anything…off about Jon?” Martin blurted out, failing to keep the concern out of his voice.

“What isn’t weird about Jon?” Tim chuckled bitterly, “ I just caught him sitting on the floor leaning against one of his filing cabinets just now, he’s losing it really.”

“Maybe he was trying to get some more sleep, I did find him asleep at his desk earlier,” Martin said, “can’t be comfortable, maybe he was looking for a better position?”

“He needs to cut the crap and just lie down in proper bed or take one the cots, or he’s gonna make himself sick.”Basira said, rolling her eyes, “Already gave himself a headache earlier.”

“I think it’s too late for that, I found him earlier in one of the bathrooms sneezing and blowing his nose.” Melanie told them, feigning disinterest in the conversation, “The man’s a disaster, it’s not like we don’t have tissues.”

They were all quiet for a minute, as the information they’d shared with each other sank in.

“Y-you don’t think Jon sick, right?” Martin finally spoke up, sounding a bit uncertain.

“No…no, of course not…Jon, he can’t get sick anymore…right?” Tim asked, sounding just as unsure, looking at Melanie and Basira.

“I don’t know I’m not an expert on all things, Jon,” Melanie answered, pointedly crossing her arms over her chest.

The tape recorder clicked off, seemingly satisfied with Jon’s offering, as the archivist pressed his hot forehead to the cool wood of his desk.

He should have recorded from the cot because there was no way he’ll be able to get up and make it across the room now. Jon’s limbs felt like jello, and he was sure if he got up, he’d be shaking too much to stay standing.

Jon could hear someone open the door to his office, but the beholding wasn’t alerting him to who it was, and it was too much effort to lift his head to find out.

He just hoped whoever they were, they were here to put him out of his misery.

Instead of the feeling of cold steel to his neck, he felt a blessedly cool hand pressed to his forehead. He mustered the will to lift his head, finding Martins concerned brown eyes staring back at him.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone, Basira, Tim and Melanie on his heels. “Is this another intervention?” Jon croaked out weakly, half-jokingly and half-accusingly.

Martin chuckled, “It’s going to be if you don’t let your body rest.” He said, combing his fingers through Jon’s hair, “you should have told us you weren’t feeling well.”

“We have bigger things to worry about right now, then whether or not I’m a bit under the weather.” Jon snapped defensively.

“I think this is a little more than under the weather, boss.” Tim answered bitterly, concern softening his words.

“Yeah, I mean, you always look disheveled, but your starting to get into I’m dying territory.” Melanie teased a bit sarcastically.

“Look, the point is we can’t afford to have this getting any worst, so if you really want to help right now, you’ll rest and try to get better.” Basira told him, trying to appeal to Jon in a more logical sense.

Jon sighed, “I guess you're not really giving me much of choice in this.” He said.

“Not unless you want to risk Melanie tying you down to the cot.” Tim said, a little too seriously for Jon’s liking. He let Martin help him up and over to the cot so he could lay back down.

He even let Martin fuss, pulling the blanket over his shivering frame, tucking it around him.

Jon cracked open an eye, “Please tell me you all aren’t going to sit there and watch me sleep?” He said.

“Right so we’ll be leaving, give you some privacy so you can get some rest,” Basira said, ushering the other out of the room. “Don’t get any funny ideas, though. We’ll be checking up on you to make sure your resting.” She called back before ducking out of the room.