Rami Malek One-Shots

Elliot Alderson x Reader

A/N: I wrote this a while ago but never got around to posting it.... SORRY

You were biting your nails, scared of every toss and turn Elliot made. What if this was killing him? How would the plan work then? No, your nervousness ran deeper than that. You had grown to care for him in the past few weeks. He became more and more of a friend with each passing day, so this killed you.

His skin shone with a thick layer of sweat, his skin blotchy, eyes wild, his breathing ragged. He was constantly pulling the sheets and duvet of the bed over him, then throwing them off seconds later. He looked like he was in complete agony.

Romero and Mobley sat on a couch, facing away from the horrific scene, watching some movie about hacking. It was a bit ironic, actually. But their hushed exchanges of "We should leave him" or "He's only a dead weight" stung you like a swarm of bees. How could they leave poor Elliot in a time like this? Sure, you were working a plan, but what about the main rule, "No man left behind"? Did they care for Elliot at all? What if he died? What would they do? Didn't Mr.Robot say there was no plan without Elliot?

You sighed, putting your head in your hands. What would you do if he died?

"(your nickname)?" Elliot groaned. Your head shot up to see him lying on his side, facing you. You quickly got up from your chair and was at his bedside in an instant.

"Yeah? What is it? Do you need anything?" you fussed. He chuckled.

"No, I just wanted to talk to you," he said, barely above a whisper. Your mouth made an 'o' shape as you nodded. Then you sat on the edge of the bed next to him.

"What's up?" you asked casually. That earned a smile. Only you were ever capable of making the man smile, and you took pride in that.

"Just trying to kick the morphine, what about you?" Elliot asked, his words slurring somewhat. You smiled sadly as you placed a hand on his outstretched one.

"Trying to figure out how the plan's gonna work with you like this," you said. He pursed his lips and nodded, the tremors from before now nonexistent.

"How's that working out?" he asked. You shrugged.

"Not so well," you said, earning a small laugh. He sighed.

"I don't think I can kick this," he said quietly. You rested a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you.

"I know you can do this," you said. "You're Elliot-fucking-Alderson! I've seen you bring up businesses, and crash them down with just a press of a button. If you are able to do that, you can do anything," you reassure. Elliot smiled. After a moment, you began to move your hand away, when...

"No, i-it makes me feel better," he said quickly. You nodded before placing your hand back on his cheek. He then sat up, facing you. He bit his lip. "C-Can I... Can-"

"Can you what?" you asked, confused. He answered by brushing his lips against yours. You stay as frozen as a statue, wary that you might scare him off. He leaned back, eyes just opening, your hand still on his cheek.

"I-I'm sorry, I just-" Then you, too, cut him off by placing your lips on his. The kiss was gentle, neither of you wanting intimacy, especially in his current state. You raised your other hand to his other cheek, his hands finding your waist. Eventually, you break for air. He rests his forehead on yours. He seemed to be looking somewhat better than before.

"How are you feeling?" you breathe. He chuckles.

"Much better than before."