Work Text:
Food Poisoning:
When the Ducks entered the visitor's locker room, Ted knew something was wrong. They were in Otter Tail County for an away game, playing against the Perham High School Tigers in their home arena. Because of how far away it was, Ted needed to book them a hotel. They had dinner at the hotel the previous night; Ted bought them all Chinese food and put them on a strict eleven o'clock curfew because their game was bright and early at ten in the morning.
He'd waited for them in the locker room as promised. Looking down at his watch, the team was expected to be there for warm-ups any moment. He told them he wanted them in the locker room, getting ready to warm up by nine-thirty A.M. sharp. But when they entered the locker room, still yawning deeply, he noticed something looked off with his Varsity Ducks captain.
Everyone from J.V. got bumped up to Varsity. After Coach Wilson decided to retire, Ted stepped in and took over. Scooter was more than happy to step down from being the starting goalie, allowing Julie her time in the sun, but what remained of Varsity from last year's junior class was less than pleased that a bunch of "white trash kids" got promoted to Varsity. They were especially displeased that Charlie was the captain and that Scooter and Banks were his alternates, but he had a few choice words for those senior members:
Suck it up, buttercups.
That had been enough to convince those boys to shut their mouths and accept their new teammates. And they were slowly accepting Charlie's leadership.
Speaking of Charlie, Ted saw the boy look paler than usual. He seemed to be walking slower, too, like he was dragging his feet. His eyes were far away and misted with tiredness as he sat down on the bench, leaning over. He seemed to be clutching his stomach in pain, his face twisted as if he'd tasted something sour.
Adam walked up to him, a concern reflected in his eyes. "Coach, Charlie's sick. He woke up with diarrhea this morning, and he hasn't had any breakfast yet. But he's being a stubborn pain – he refused to go back to bed and insisted on coming here even though he spent two minutes on the toilet." He rolled his eyes – clearly, this was not the first time Charlie insisted on playing a game while sick as a dog.
Ted sighed. He, of all people, knew of Charlie's stubbornness. But he hadn't expected that Charlie would try doing something so stupid.
"See if you can convince him to be reasonable," Adam pleaded. "Maybe he'll listen to you."
Ted nodded in agreement, pinching his fingers between his eyes as he walked over to Charlie, who could hardly sit upright and looked like he was about to puke everywhere. He knelt in front of the kid and touched his forehead; the boy's skin was hot to the touch, and Ted jerked his hand away instantly.
"Damn, Conway, you're burning up," he commented.
"I can play if I want to," Charlie mumbled.
"Not on my watch." Ted turned to Scooter. "Holland, get him back to his hotel room. Conway, when I return to the hotel, I expect to see you resting in bed."
"Stop acting like my mother," Charlie grunted, and Ted flicked him slightly. "Ow! That hurt!"
"It was supposed to," retorted Ted. "And I will be calling your mother about this."
"Great."
"Watch your attitude. Go back to the hotel and lie down. When the game's over, I'll stop by to check on you. In the meantime, take Tylenol for that fever and drink some Sprite; see if you can hold that down."
Charlie shook his head stubbornly, even as Scooter grabbed him by the arm, pulled him up, and led him out of the visitor's locker room. Charlie mumbled protests on the way out, shaking his head and groaning about how he could still play, that he wasn't that sick, but Ted knew that this was either a case of the stomach flu or food poisoning, and he wasn't about to have Charlie do anything that would jeopardize his health further.
The Ducks triumphed over the Tigers with a five-to-three victory, but Charlie was at the forefront of everyone's mind. Scooter had returned after successfully convincing Charlie to lie down; he'd come just in time to play. Luckily, he wasn't needed for the game because Julie did well all on her own with Goldberg acting as defense, and Adam and Connie really brought it. Still, knowing Charlie was back at the hotel sick didn't sit right with anyone, and quite frankly, Ted was worried, especially if Charlie struggled with holding fluids down.
He made it a point to stop at a nearby diner to pick up a to-go cup of chicken soup and some hot peppermint tea, which would hopefully settle Charlie's stomach, and that was if the kid could bring himself to eat anything at all. Still, Ted wanted to see Charlie try to eat something – they had to check out by tomorrow morning and get back on the bus to head to Eden Hall, and there was no way Charlie would be able to last on the bus ride home if he didn't get better by tomorrow morning.
He went to Charlie and Adam's hotel room door, knocking. Adam opened the door, letting him inside as he heard the sounds of vomiting.
"He keeps throwing up," Adam explained worriedly. "He couldn't even hold Sprite down."
Ted sighed. He knew he was going to have his work cut out for him dealing with a sick, moody teenager. But he also knew he was the only adult here that the kids could rely on. He'd called Casey, explaining that Charlie probably had a bad case of food poisoning or stomach flu, assuring her he'd take care of everything and ensure that Charlie got better, hopefully by tomorrow.
"Where is he now?"
Adam led the way into the adjacent bedroom, where Charlie lay in one of the beds, clutching a trashcan and retching loudly. Ted set the to-go cup and the tea down on the nightstand before moving toward Charlie, who gagged harshly, spitting and dry-heaving. With no thermometer, Ted could only take an educated guess as he touched Charlie's cheeks, forehead, and the back of his neck.
"I think it's about one hundred-two," he commented, rubbing Charlie's back as the boy weakly lifted his head, moaning and whimpering before he doubled over again, gagging, but he had nothing left to throw up.
"Easy, Conway," he murmured. "Take some deep breaths. Did you take anything for the fever?"
Charlie shook his head, whimpering, "Hurts."
Ted sighed, turning to Adam. "Go down to the front desk and ask if they have an equivalent to Tylenol that he could take. Also, see if they've got a thermometer we could borrow so we get an accurate temperature."
Adam nodded, running out of the hotel room to head downstairs to the lobby. Ted resumed rubbing Charlie's back as Charlie finally caught his breath, but he was unwilling to let the garbage can go – he seemed scared that he'd throw up again.
"Charlie, I got you some soup and some peppermint tea," he said to the kid. "I wanna see you take some of it and see if you can hold it down. If the fever doesn't lower after you take the medicine, I'll take you to the ER."
"No hospital," Charlie moaned stubbornly as he finally let go of the garbage pail, laying back down against the pillows.
"If it gets really bad, I'll have no choice. Did you eat anything last night that could've caused this?"
"Shrimp."
Ted sighed again. He had a feeling that could've been the case, that there was a possibility of Charlie eating something that could've made him sick. At least if it were food poisoning, Charlie more than likely wouldn't have to go to the hospital because food poisoning usually lasted for about a day. Still, part of him couldn't help worrying. His main concern was whether Charlie would be able to hold anything down at all. The kid had obviously been throwing up for a couple of hours now and was hot and achy and miserable – Ted could only hope that the Tylenol would give the boy some relief and lower his fever a little bit.
Adam returned with the medication, some water, and a thermometer. Ted grabbed the thermometer and placed it into Charlie's mouth, under his tongue. It soon beeped, and Ted looked at the reading: one hundred-two point three, a low-grade fever at best. Sighing, he reached for the pill bottle and popped one out before taking the cup of water from Adam.
"Charlie, take the medicine for me, all right? This'll hopefully make you feel better."
Charlie whimpered as Adam climbed into the bed behind him, propping him up enough so that he was half-sitting, half-laying back. Ted placed the pill into Charlie's mouth and tilted the cup of water, watching as Charlie swallowed the medicine. But Charlie drank too much water and instantly started to cough as it went down the wrong way.
"Good job, son," Ted whispered as he watched Adam thump Charlie on the back to stop his choking. Once Charlie was done coughing, Adam laid him back down, putting a second pillow under his head.
"Okay, hopefully, that lowers your fever. Do you want to try to have some tea? Soup, maybe?"
"Not hungry," Charlie groaned.
"I know you're not. Just try and have a few bites. You don't have to eat the whole thing," Ted compromised.
Charlie sighed finally, nodding weakly. Ted went around and lifted the boy's head, cradling it under his arm gently before reaching for the tea. He tilted the hot cup toward Charlie's mouth and watched as the boy sipped it slowly, sighing in relief at the menthol from the peppermint going down his throat, cooling it and hopefully settling his stomach. Charlie's breathing slowly calmed as his eyes fluttered – he looked like he could barely stay awake.
"Do you think you could take it from here, Adam?" he inquired of his alternate.
"Yeah, I think so."
"Okay, I'm going to call Casey now and give her an update. Charlie, get some sleep and see how you feel when you wake up. Adam, if he gets worse, come and get me, and I'll get him to a doctor, okay?"
Adam nodded, pulling the blankets and sheets up to Charlie's chest as Ted stepped out of the hotel room. He fished out his cell phone and quickly dialed Casey's number. He pressed the phone to his ear and listened as it rang; Casey picked up on the third ring.
"Hello?" she said.
"Casey, it's Coach Orion. I was just in Adam and Charlie's hotel room; Charlie was throwing up when I got there, but I just took his temperature and gave him some medicine to reduce his fever. I also got him to drink some tea, too. He's just gone back to sleep. He told me he had shrimp last night, so that might've caused it; it's probably just a case of food poisoning," he explained.
"Okay, that's good. Thank you, Ted. I'm glad he's got somebody there looking out for him," Casey said with tremendous relief.
"Just doing my job," Ted assured her – he considered it part of his job, especially since he was the only adult supervision traveling with the Varsity team, and he was responsible for all of them and keeping them in peak condition.
"No, really, I'm glad you're there because you know how much Charlie trusts you."
Ted hummed in agreement. Ever since the incident from last season's state championship against Edina High School's Hawks team, when Charlie had gotten that concussion, Ted had learned that Charlie considered him like another dad in his life, an honor that Ted never thought he'd earn, considering their bitter spat at the beginning of the previous school year. And he was proud to fill that role; he'd take that any day, minus Charlie being sick, of course – he wished that that weren't the case at all. Still, in a way, he was glad that he was able to be there when it mattered.
"I'll call you again later and let you know whether his fever broke," he said.
"Bye. Take care."
"Bye."
Ted pocketed his phone and returned to the hotel room, where Charlie had begun to fall asleep. Adam had wrung out a cold, damp washcloth across the boy's forehead to try and help reduce his fever even more, and Ted lifted the cloth, brushing his fingers gently across Charlie's forehead, which was still hot, but didn't seem as scorching as it had before.
"Good, it's going down," he commented approvingly. "At least the Tylenol's working."
"Thank God," Adam said. "Hopefully, he doesn't attempt to go to another game sick again."
"We'll see about that," Ted sighed, watching the look on Charlie's face as he slowly relaxed enough to fall asleep.
"He's right here, you know?" Charlie mumbled, half-asleep, and Ted managed a grin despite everything as he ruffled the boy's hair slightly.