Switched (Jacksepticeye x Reader)

Chapter Eighteen: The Fever

As soon as you open your very heavy and sleepy eyes, you felt Jack's heavy and slow breathing beside you. His arms are wrapped around you protectively and his face is nestled into your neck. His expression is grim and his smile is turned down into an uneasy frown. Sweat drips from his forehead, his face is pale and his lips are chapped from overnight dehydration. You feel concern wash over you and you unwrap yourself carefully from his iron grasp, which was surprisingly easy to do. His arms now rest on his chest as he turns over and groans. Your brow creases in worry as you feel his forehead. Your eyes widen when you feel his temperature and it hurts to keep your hand there. 

You instantly retract your now stinging fingers from his head. You call Mark into the room and as soon as he heard you say Jack has a fever he rushes over to his friend. He was about to do the same thing you had done; feel Jack's head. You grab his hand and shake your head. He immediately rests his arm by his side and nods. 

"Keep an eye on him while I get the thermometer." He nods his head once again and you go out of your room and into the bathroom. You search everywhere and finally grab it from under the bathroom sink. It's wrapped in a plastic bag. It's probably only been used a few times but just to make sure it's germ free you scrub it with soap and water. 

After what felt like forever, you finally finish cleaning it and speed walk back into the spare bedroom. You carefully place the thermometer into Jack's mouth so he won't wake from the slumber he so badly needs. You and Mark wait patiently for the thermometer to beep and it finally does, revealing the temperature that was once unknown.

Your eyes widen as you see the numbers are way past normal. "H-How is he n-not dead?!" You stutter. Mark raises his hand to his forehead and rubs it with concern. The temperature is.. 112.2 "We should call the doctor." Mark suggests. You shake your head. "No. All they'd do is tell us he should be dead and try to find a solution. Which we both know they'll find nothing." You look back down at Jack's grave expression and see him stir slightly. "Mark. Do you know if he has any fans? Small ones. Ones that will at least cool him off?" Mark thinks for a second.

Without another word he leaves the bedroom. You tend to Jack as best you can until finally he comes back into the room with two small fans. The blades are held in a metal cage with small slithers for openings. There are small handle-like bars at the bottom that hold it up in a sitting position. "Here." Mark hands you the green one and he sets up the red one on the nightstand. You do the same on the other side and turn them on. The blades start up and create a cooling air flow. It's surprisingly cooler then you expected it to be.

As soon as the air hits him he stirs again. He starts shivering violently and you both switch off the fans. You both stare at Jack for a few seconds and the sweat starts to form on his forehead again, dripping down onto the now soaked pillow. He's hot again. You finally go get a bucket from the kitchen closet and place it by Jack's bed. You thought that once he wakes up.. IF he wakes up, he was going to need it.

You both think it's better to let the fever run it's course through Jack. But you both take turns watching him over the next few days (Three days) until he finally wakes up. You feed him water but he just pukes it back up again into the bucket next to him. If it hadn't have been for the broken bones that he had to endure in the Hospital, you would have thought that this was a worse fate. 

"Mark.. Is he going to die?" You ask through broken sobs. Mark looks at you with a stern expression and says, "Don't you ever think that again, you understand? He's going to make it and you two are going to be married and have a couple of kids within the next few years." You smile weakly at this. You found it slightly funny that Mark could be so serious, yet so goofy without meaning to be in the worst situations. This is why you and Mark had clicked so easily in the beginning. His sense of humor always survives. Through thick and thin.

Jack had been through the ringer these last few weeks and you had been left unscathed. You wondered why God hated Jack so much. What was it that made Jack SO bad that he had to punish him like this? Maybe it's because you two hadn't been that religious. (Sorry if you are) Maybe God was punishing you for being "Bad". 

The thing you found the most funny was that you were going through the worst of it emotionally, while Jack had the physical pain. You wished desperately that you could take his pain away and go through it yourself. Even if it killed you in the process. 

That's only a fraction of how much you loved him.