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It's My Job to Care for You

Chapter 2: I’m Fine

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“I’m fine,” TK snarled.

Despite his insistence, he froze momentarily as vertigo swept through him. Listing forward he growled and grasped tightly at the kitchen countertop.

“You’re fucking not though,” Nolan mumbled.

This wasn’t a new argument. For the past 48 hours, he’d found TK trying to check his phone, trying to watch TV, trying to crack a beer, trying to go for a walk. Nolan was about to pull out his cat’s spray bottle to keep the shorter forward in line.

TK’s resistance to concussion protocol wasn’t a surprise by any means, but it didn’t lessen Nolan’s worry. As much as he plays at apathy, he’d like this injury to heal as quickly as possible. For TK’s sake yes, but also for Nolan’s.

Sucking in a deep breath, Nolan gave a withering glance at TK who was now standing with his upper body sprawled over the countertop, cheek against the cool tile and eyes clinched shut.

“I need to rest,” mumbled Nolan as he grabbed a soft gel icepack from the freezer and then an eye mask off the entryway table. Slowly throughout the morning, a migraine had been building behind his right eye. It peaked as he bullied TK out of grabbing a beer from the fridge.

Nolan had curled in on himself in the living room, head tucked against the icepack when he heard shuffling. 

Peeling back his mask he saw TK standing awkwardly in front of him. He could see TK’s fingers twitching forlornly from where they barely peeked past his sleeves. His raven haired teammate, wobbled slightly before pouting down at him, eyes clearly asking for permission.

Letting out a huff, Nolan lifted the massive knit blanket he’d been tucked under and motioned for TK to climb in.

Without hesitation TK slid in, nuzzling close enough to press his nose against Nolan’s collarbone, arm wrapped around his waist as an anchor to keep from slipping off the couch.

Just as Nolan felt himself begin to fade into sleep, he heard a soft mutter, breath puffing against his skin. 

“I’m fine.”

 

-- 

 

Nolan woke up to the rustle of paper bags in the kitchen. But TK was still warm against his chest.

It had been some time since they’d drifted off because the icepack against his cheek felt soft and lukewarm, but that didn’t explain the unexpected visitor.

Trying to not disturb TK, Nolan slowly lifted his head to peek over the arm of the couch. Over in the kitchen stood their captain Claude Giroux as he unloaded what appeared to be several brown grocery bags.

Glancing up, the redhead caught Nolan’s eyes and smiled softly before setting down a Tupperware and wandering into the living room. Perched on the coffee table, Claude leaned forward to look the two over.

“How are you holding up?” he inquired softly.

Nolan glanced tiredly down at TK who was snoring softly against his chest before looking back at his captain and shrugging gently.

“Okay.”

A sharp eyebrow was all it took to challenge the statement.

“Okay fine. Not okay.”

Nolan chewed on his lip as he thought about how to even respond. He took his sweet time, but Claude was patient.

“It’s. It sucks. Mine like, comes and goes and his just. It doesn’t yet. And he gets so stir crazy. I dunno.”

The veteran nodded, eyes soft with compassion but lacking in pity. Nolan appreciated it. 

“Ryanne made some food for you. Figured you could use something other than takeout when you’re both down for the count. Some enchiladas and a couple salads that would be easy to piece together. Breakfast burritos too.”

“That’s. That’s really sweet of her. Thanks. I should,” Nolan paused to wave his hand, searching for the words. “I should help you put it away.”

Immediately Claude shook his head.

“No. Don’t move. Don’t wake Teeks. Just rest yeah? I’ll take care of it. Put some in the oven too since it’s getting late.”

Settling back, Nolan felt overwhelmed. Some of the Flyers significant others had crafted a meal train when the migraine’s first got out of control. He couldn’t keep much down then, but Frosty’s boyfriend makes some incredible homemade açaí bowls. He’d really felt team as family this year.

By the time Claude had transferred everything to the fridge and set the oven to preheat, TK had begun to wake up.

He squirmed slightly before nuzzling closer. Soon, eyes heavy with sleep, he squinted up at Nolan.

“Hi.”

A small grin tugged at Nolan’s lips.

“Hi. Roo’s here. Brought some eats.”

TK’s eyebrows pulled down in confusion. “What?”

Nolan rolled his eyes. “And you say you’re feeling better.”

Pushing at Nolan’s chest to move back, TK scowled. “Fuck you. I am feeling better. I just don’t. I don’t know what,” he trailed off, mind grasping at straws, finding nothing concrete to wrap up the train of thought.

Sighing, Nolan pulled TK back in. “It’s fine bud. Just said Cap is here with food.”

Finally grasping what Nolan meant, TK leaned out over the edge of the couch, peering around because he was too short to lean up and look over the arm. Fingers clutching at Nolan’s shirt to keep from toppling over the side, TK finally saw Claude setting the timer on Nolan’s oven. 

“I am kind of hungry. Like starving actually.”

Nolan watched TK for a moment. The dark circles under his eyes, the pale undertone of his tired face.

“Yeah well you haven’t eaten since dinner last night so.”

--

 

They tried to convince Claude to stay for dinner, but he swore he had to get back to his family.

Despite their hunger, neither could stomach more than a small portion before their own heads betrayed them. It had been a long day, frustrating and full of setbacks and despite the afternoon nap, they were exhausted.

TK had showered and, hair wrapped up in a towel, wandered out to the kitchen for a glass of water. As he returned he paused, hearing retching from the bathroom.

Slowly pressing open the door his heart sank to see Nolan knelt before the toilet, cheeks aflame and forehead pressed to the porcelain bowl. He sat still for a moment, slender frame shaking as he gasped for breath.

Only a moment later Nolan began to heave again, tears streaming down his burning cheeks.

Without hesitation TK stepped past to sit on the edge of the bath tub. He reached out to pull back Nolan’s hair as he gagged, but he’d already lost the little he’d eaten.

Shuddering as his stomach finally decided to cooperate Nolan leaned back, this time tipping towards TK, using his thigh as a pillow.

He reveled in the soothe of TK’s fingers combing through his hair and reaching down to brush back the remaining tears.

Unsure of how much time had passed, beyond the stiffness settling in his bones, Nolan finally pulled away.

“Thanks,” he muttered before grasping the sink to pull himself upright. He splashed his face with water and even began to brush his teeth before he realized TK was still sitting on the rim of the bath tub, staring at him strangely.

“What?” He questioned through a mouthful of bubbles and spit. Spitting he asked again. “What’s the face Teeks?”

Flushing and glaring down at his hands TK hesitated before responding.

“I just. I think I should go home.”

Nolan froze. He wanted TK here. He liked having TK here. Why the sudden shift?

“What? Why?”

Once again TK refused to make eye contact. Shifting in his perch and raking his hand through his hair.

“I’m making this worse. Okay? I just. I can’t do this anymore.”

Before Nolan could respond TK was already standing and shoving past him. Reaching out desperately he got a hand in TK’s sweatshirt where the neck meets the hood.

Stilling, TK finally made eye contact. It was too much. His dark eyes swirled with pain and regret, but his tone was firm.

“Don’t.”

So Nolan let him go.

He also cried himself to sleep wondering if TK was okay three stories up above him.

 

--

 

The next morning Nolan reached out and when his hand met empty space and a cold pillow, the night before came crashing back. TK was gone.

Curling in on himself Nolan’s mind circled and circled and circled but he couldn’t figure it out. What changed?

Eventually pulling himself from bed Nolan stomped to the bathroom to piss and stomped to the kitchen to pull out a bowl of açaí and strawberries. He sprinkled on some granola but found that as pretty as the dish was, he couldn’t eat it. He’d kept pressing it around the bowl, frustration rising in his chest the more he thought.

He wanted to text TK. Make sure he was alright. But he also didn’t want to be the reason TK was on his phone staring into the sharp light of it.

The day seemed to drag on. He found himself at the practice facility for his appointment with the trainers and when Provy asked how TK was holding up he found an unexpected rage sweep through him.

“He says he’s fine.”

Provy lifted an eyebrow at Nolan’s clipped tone but didn’t comment any further.

Around 6 that night, Nolan startled from his evening meditation as the doorbell rang. Clamoring to his feet, he rushed over, hoping to find TK.

Instead it was a scrawny teenage boy with an Uber Eats ball-cap on.

“I uh, didn’t order anything,” Nolan commented awkwardly.

The kid shifted, clearly uncomfortable himself.

“Yeah uh. This guy upstairs. He ordered like string cheese from 7-Eleven, but then said he actually wanted me to bring you this note?”

For a moment Nolan just stared.

“What the fuck.”

When the kid began to squirm, Nolan had mercy on him, holding out his hand to receive the note before bidding him goodnight.

Pulling open the crumpled piece of notebook paper, Nolan took in TK’s messy scrawl in thick sharply.

 

Patty.

 Im making ur migranes worse. I’m adding to ur stress. I won’t be responsble for that.

Sorry.

 

Crumpling it up again Nolan hucked it at the wall as hard as he could, disappointment swirling when it didn’t carry the force he wanted it to.

“Teeks you motherucker,” he groaned into his hands.

Stomping to the elevator, fists clinched by his sides the entire ride, and stomping to TK’s door, he only just resisted pounding his fist on the wood. TK was concussed. He didn’t need that. Instead he rang the doorbell.

After a moment, the door squeaked open.

“Did he not-,” TK began before trailing off, eyes widening at the sight of Nolan Patrick towering in a pillar of fury.

“You’re right,” Nolan accused, deep voice seeming even lower than usual. He took a step forward, crowding into TK’s space.

New territory because usually it was TK’s role to ignore personal boundaries.

“You are making my migraines worse.”

TK flinched.

He’d said it. He’d felt it. He’d written it. But to hear it from Nolan. That was something else.

“I didn’t sleep much at all last night. Worried. Confused. Wondering what the fuck I did wrong. Not great for the head.”

TK had completely stilled. The absence of fidgeting, a foreign concept, but present nonetheless.

“Teeks I want you with me. When you went down I. Fuck Teeks. I’ve been there but it’s like way worse seeing it happen to you. And then they let me have you- I asked you know- and they agreed. And I got used to it. Even if we argue like all the fucking time. I got used to it. And then you just left.”

It was a lot. Far more than maybe TK had ever heard from Nolan in one go. TK leaned his forehead onto Nolan’s shoulder. His head was pounding but they needed to hash this out. Gathering his wits he lifted his head and met Nolan’s earnest eyes.

“You’re sick Patty. But you’re taking care of me and it’s a lot. And then you were puking and in so much pain last night and I just knew I wasn’t helping, I was just making things worse.”

Nolan glared. “I would’ve been sick last night no matter what TK, that’s like the whole thing I’m trying to fix. Not sleeping cause I’m worried about you is something you can change though. I just. I love you a lot, bud and I,” TK cut him off, staggering back but keeping a hand wrapped around his bicep.

“What?”

“I said I love you man.”

“Like. Bro’s or like, do you really?”

Nolan rolled his eyes, feigned irritation, but his heart was pounding. Why the fuck were they having this conversation right now?

“No like. Damnit Teeks,” he groaned. “Like, I.”

Huffing he reached out and cupped TK’s jaw, softly pressuring the shorter man to step forward. Eventually Nolan stooped, pressing a chaste kiss to TK’s lips. “Like love you..”

TK’s stillness sent a jolt of uncertainty through Nolan, but in a moment two sweater paws bookended his cheeks and pulled him back down. The second kiss was more eager, urgent, earnest.

Pulling back for air, TK licked his lips as his eyes darted from Nolan’s lips to his eyes before he whispered “I love you too Nol.”

A grin crept onto Nolan’s face as he looked down at TK flushed and blissful. “Good. Now come back home. I don’t know how you survived today without me.”

Notes:

I have a few more scenes floating around my head so more will likely come.

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