Adventures Lie Ahead | GTAV Fanfic [Trevor x Reader]

Chapter Eight

"Stay the fuck in bed. I'll see you later."

You sighed as Trevor left the trailer, annoyed that he was so busy with work and wouldn't even let you come with. Gang activity had been rising dramatically in Los Santos lately, and with it came a rise for what Trevor Philips Industries was known for - guns and drugs. The past two weeks since Trevor's 'birthday', both you and him had barely been at home, instead busting your asses on getting shipments taken care of.

You didn't really understand why he was so insistent on keeping the business when he was so rich, but his reasoning was that he didn't want to get old and slow. It seemed that secretly, the whole birthday thing had gotten under his skin and he was now involving himself in the business more and more.

Maybe it was the stress from the business, maybe you'd caught a bug, maybe you'd even developed allergies, but you were running a fever. It was only a minor amount higher than your normal temperature, but you felt as if you were sweltering. After you mentioned it yesterday morning, Trevor made you stick a thermometer in your mouth, declared you sick, and made you stay home from work.

The hot feeling was bad yesterday, but even worse today. Medicine wasn't helping cool you down nor was it decreasing your temp. It felt bad enough that you considered going to the doctor, but maybe it was too dramatic of a decision. After all, it was only a fever. You decided to call Gabi to hear her thoughts.

"Hey, where are you?" Gabi asked as soon as she picked up. "I'm at Liquor Ace and I just saw Trevor pull up, but you aren't here again."

"Yeah, I've got a fever," you sighed. "I feel hotter than Satan's asshole and Trevor's 'banned me' from going to work until I'm feeling better."

"At least he's thoughtful about something," Gabi muttered. "Are you feeling okay besides that?"

"Yeah," you told her. "I had a stomachache last night, but it went away. I think Trevor used spoiled milk in the mac n' cheese without realizing it, it tasted really off."

"Huh."

There was a pause. Maybe it's a stupid idea to go to the doctor. Gabi'll put it straight, though. "Do you think I should go to the doctor?"

"Wouldn't hurt," Gabi hummed thoughtfully. "Call the doctor and take their earliest appointment. I know I haven't established a doctor here, I doubt you have either. Maybe get a physical while you're at it, I don't know."

"I probably won't get a physical right now, but I'll get an appointment. Thanks."

"Eeyup." Gabi hung up. You groaned in annoyance, not looking forward to the hassle of going to the doctor. You looked up the phone number to the nearest care center; it was a just a few blocks away on Zancudo Avenue and unsurprisingly conjoined with the police station.

You called the number and a very unenthused man picked up after five rings. "Sandy Shores Medical Center, how can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm [F/N] [L/N] and I'm running a bit of a fever. It's not too high, but I feel a lot hotter than average. When's your soonest appointment?" you asked.

Silence hung awkwardly over the phone as the receptionist looked at available times. "We have Dr. Braithwaite available an hour from now."

"Yeah, I can do that," you hurriedly agreed. "I'll see you then. Goodbye."

You took a quick shower and threw some makeup and clothing on before heading to the medical center. There were only two other people in the waiting room; a young woman with hollowed cheeks, no teeth, and an arm wrapped in gauze, along with an older man holding a cane.

As soon as you sat down after filling out the basic information form, the woman stood up and moved to sit beside you. She shoved her wounded arm in your face and asked, "Ya think this is infected?" What wasn't contained by gauze was pus-filled and stank.