Going Solo

Going Solo Part 4

Ant regularly has trouble sleeping, but usually during the live week of BGT, he's knackered enough that his insomnia disappears. That night, however, he wakes every hour, feeling vaguely fretful and with the urge to text Dec to check that he's okay – an urge he resists on the grounds that Dec should be sleeping and he wouldn't want to wake him, and that it's ridiculously overprotective even by his own standards when it comes to his best mate.

At seven am, though, while Lisa is still out for the count and they won't be heading to Dec and Ali's for another two hours, he gives up and takes Hurley out to the garden, scrolling through his phone as he does so. There are plenty of notifications on Twitter, mostly people responding to the photo he took with Dec in the medical room, the smaller man smiling but – even with a black and white filter – looking pale and unnervingly fragile.

There are gifs, too, of their links after the dance troupe and introducing the choir, and Ant can't help but watch them, seeing Dec's unsteadiness in the first and the way he seems a bit out of it in the last, a breathiness to his voice that is so unnatural. He then can't resist watching the links in between those, to see if there are any signs he missed at the time. He thinks, now, that it's so obvious Dec wasn't quite right: he's less animated when he speaks, and seems to be moving carefully, perhaps to avoid any waves of dizziness. He should have known, Ant chastises himself – it's not like it's even the first time he's seen Dec get faint, and all the signs were there.

He's been obsessively reading and watching for a while when Lisa emerges and nags him to get into the shower, saying she'll nip to the local bakery and shop to pick up some stuff to take along to Dec's for breakfast.

He tries to take his time, to hide his desperation and eagerness, but he knows he's not that successful. Luckily, Lisa knows him well and has always understood his relationship with Dec, so she's already contacted Ali to say they'll be there a bit earlier than previously agreed.

Ali lets them in and says Dec's in the kitchen, and Ant makes a beeline for it. Dec is sitting at the kitchen table, still wearing pyjamas – full, fleecy ones, Ant notices, not his usual football shorts – and, touchingly, Ant's hoodie. He offers Ant a smile, but he looks awful, if Ant's honest, and his own smile in response is subdued.

"Still feeling rough?" he asks, crossing to press his hand to Dec's brow. Unsurprisingly, from his glittering eyes and flushes cheeks, it's hot.

"Not great, no," Dec replies, his voice now a grim croak. "Sorry. I was hoping it'd get better overnight."

"So was I," Ant says, letting his hand drop to Dec's shoulder, where he rubs soothingly. Dec winces. "What? You okay?"

"Just aching," Dec says.

"Some kind of viral, fluey thing," Ali says as the girls catch up. "He's barely slept, kept waking up every hour." Ant blinks at that, thinking about his own sleepless night. "His temperature's up, too – if it goes above 103 again, I'm calling the doctor."

"He always runs ridiculously hot when he's sick," Ant says. "I can remember when we were on tour once he hit 104. He was out of his head."

"I'm not as bad as that this time," Dec says. "Is that coconut water, Lise?"

"It is, Doolittle! Orange juice is too sharp on sore throats, and you've got to stay hydrated."

Dec is happy to drink up, but Ant notices he's barely eating at all, picking half-heartedly at the croissants and pastries Lisa has brought. He offers to make some scrambled eggs or something else to get Dec eating, but Dec refuses, saying he's just not hungry.