Fit For A King (An Elvis Story)

Troubled Water

October 15th, 1973

Y/N POV:
Things seemed to settle into a nice routine and one where Elvis seemed to be happy and healthier. He had lost some weight and would go on walks with you in the evenings, especially since his sprained ankle, he was insistent upon walking and having it heal quickly. You were proud of him for coming this far....even if he had been beyond pissed about the West's book release. His new Doctor, Dr. Nick even seemed to promote a healthier way of living for him, so it was truly a breath of fresh air. You were relishing your time together before starting up more tour dates. You snuggled uo to Elvis in your hotel suite. The room had the musty old smells which Elvis wasn't too thrilled about but it was a nice suite. There was a separate living area and mini kitchenette. Three tvs were brought in at Ekvis' request and you laid in the big king size bed watching every two news stations and a rerun of one of your favorite shows, Bewitched. You could tell Elvis was starting to drift, as his arm became heavy as it laid across your midriff. You could hear his soft breathing, relaxing you into your own dreamlike state, until you could hear his breathing change. It sounded off like he was starting to struggle. It became labored and fast and you immediately tossed his arm to the side, dropping it like a dead weight and ran next door where Lamar and Joe were fast asleep. You banged and kicked the door until you heard footsteps and Lamar luckily answered. Your face said it all. It was white as a ghost from the shock of the events and you could feel the tears running down your face. You grabbed his arm and yanked him back into your room snd pointed to Elvis. Lamar immediately called 911. "JOE! Get y/n the fuck out of here before she faints!" Lamar yelled and Joe came running out of the room just in time for your vision to go completely black.

You had awoken only thirty minutes after Elvis was rushed by Lamar and EMS to the nearest hospital. Joe sat next to you on your bed, fanning you with a paper plate. Your head was still spinning, but you recalled what happened and attempted to sit up but fell back. "Whoa whoa. Careful there little lady." Joe said holding your shoulders. "I need to see him. Joe, I need to see Elvis." You said, your face feeling hot and wet from your tears. You attempt to sit up and succeed, placing your hands on the bed until the dizziness finally passed. "Okay, you sure?" Joe asked and you nod. He takes your arm, helping you up and you quickly make your way to Baptist Memorial Hospital.

Elvis POV:
I fucked up. Something, somewhere along the line I fucked up. I didn't remember if it was the benadryl or my prescription pain pill for my ankle, or the sleeping pill that wound me up in here, but something did and I knew I was about to have an ear full when I saw your face when you walked in. My kind was still foggy on everything, but overall I felt fairly normal again, aside from the IV coming from my arm of course. "Hey baby girl." I smiled slightly. Your face of anger softened slightly as you came to sit beside me. "W-what...how...how did this happen?" You asked, stuttering. I took your hand with my IV-less hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry baby girl. I may have been fibbing to you....for awhile now." I said nervously. "Did Dr. Nick...?" You asked and I shrugged. "I mean I asked and he provided." I said honestly. "Elvis, why?" You started to cry and I brought your hand to my lips and kissed it softly. "Boya, would yall give us a momemt alone?" I requested and Lamar and Joe stepped out, closing the door to my room. "Im sorry baby girl. I fucked up. I did. I didnt mean for things to end up like this." I applogized. "How long has this been going on for?" You asked, clearly still confused how thing escalated like this and I knew you weren't going to appreciate my answer. "The sprained ankle. Ever since then...i just...i needed them baby. Im sorry." I admitted and you looked down, avoiding my eyes. You then looked me straight in the eyes, like daggers to my soul. "Elvis...why? You lied....I...I cant keep doing this." You said and now i was the one looking away, but in shame. "Please don't leave. I need you baby. Please." I pleaded. "I can't keep being the one to keep you alive Elvis. I can't. It's killing me too!" You said, your voice cracking. I wanted to just scoop you up and hold you, but I just squeezed your hand again. "Y/n, please. I'm so sorry. I'll do better." I said and you took your hand and crossed your arms. "Will you get help? If I arranged it....for me....for yourself, will you go?" You asked and I fiddled with the I've tape, knowing how hard it could be. My fans and being on stage flashed in ny mind. My friends and father flashed in my mind...and then i remembered what I had. If I wanted to give you the little box I had hidden in my pant pocket I knew this called for a change and you were worth it. I nodded. "I will. Set it up baby. You're the boss. But just for now." I said and gave you a wink with a slight smirk and you couldn't help but smile back. "Oh, Elvis thank you! I promise you won't regret this, I swear to you!" You kissed me quickly and ran to the phone to start dialing. I could already see the change in you. I just had to hold true to this promise.

You had worked quickly I'm setting up a plane and rook for me in San Diego in three days, eager for me to take these new steps. I decided though in letting Joe and Lamar in on my secret. "Baby, will you go grab a coke for mefrom the cafeteria?" I asked and you smiled. "You're definitely feeling better if you want that. Sure, Presley." You go off and Lamar and Joe stand at either end of the bed. "Gentlemen I have a few orders. First, I need you tell my daddy I need Red and Sonny. If I'm making this change I need them back. And then, Joe can you hold onto that box in those pants there?" Joe furrowed his eyebrows and grabbed the small black box and gave me a look. "Boss, is this for...?" He trailed off and gave me a sly smile. "Yessir. I had a plan before all this shit happened, but I'll need you to keep it safe and hidden until I'm done in San Diego." I said and he tucked it in his own pocket, patting it down. "You can count on me, E.P." Joe smiled. I leaned back and sighed. "Welp, fellas no more partying for me for awhile." I chuckled jokingly and closed my eyes, feeling the exhaustion of the day, finally giving in to sleep. You came back in as I drifted off and smiled lovingly, "Well, so much for the coke."

Y/N POV:
The next day, the world found out about Elvis and his overdose. Though, nothing had been confirmed by the doctors, tabloids were spewing out bullshit left and right which clearly annoyed Elvis. He had two more days of recovery until the plane would take him to a rehabilitation center, so it was crucial to keep him in high spirits and focused on even wanting the recovery up until then. Elvis looked ten times better than the day he wound up in here. He had color back to his face and he had his hair stylist and spirtual advisor, Larry Gellar around a lot more to help with his mindset...and of course keep his hair in good shape while in the hospital. You admired his strength, but what you didnt realize was hoe much he admired yours. You had your own faults with drinking from the stress, but you rarely showed weakness and he loved you for your strength. You looked onward at Elvis as he was surrounded by all his friends. Red and Sonny, gladly back supporting their friend. He was loved you could see it and he gave you a knoeing smile as he enjoyed the comoany of everyone important in his life, but the one person missing who you needed to have a stern talk with was Colonel Tom Parker. If Elvis was going into recovery and making a change, it was time to get rid of the toxic and you knew for some reason this had to be your responsibility to take care of it.