Work Text:
After raising his pot of coffee to his lips and sipping at air for a few seconds, he realized that the pot was empty. It had been full just a short while ago. He put the pot down and thought about getting up to make a new pot. On one hand, he was trying to become less dependent on caffeine for productivity. On the other hand, he had a lot of work to do and a meeting later, and he already had a headache. He pushed himself out of his chair and braced himself against the head rush. His vision went blurry like normal, and he started walking to the coffee maker. Then the blurriness got worse, and he staggered.
He pushed himself off the floor slowly, trying to remember how he ended up there in the first place. As he stood up, his head throbbed, and he fumbled around in his desk drawers to find some ibuprofen. He eventually found a bottle of 400mg tablets and dry-swallowed two. Then, he sat in his chair and started in on the large stack of paperwork on his desk. After a while, he realized that he was out of coffee. He stood up, walked to the coffee maker, and waited for the pot to finish. The clock said he had four hours until the meeting. That was odd. He could have sworn he had six.
After a few minutes, he realized that he hadn’t put in any coffee beans. Once the coffee was done, he took it back with him to his desk and started on paperwork while waiting for the coffee to cool. His head kind of ached, so he took two tablets out of the bottle of ibuprofen conveniently on his desk and swallowed them with hot coffee. As he worked, he found that the words on the paper blurred together when he focused on them, and his head kept pounding whenever he turned on the lamp. He took two ibuprofen tablets from the bottle conveniently on his desk and swallowed them with cold coffee. Hopefully, he would feel better soon.
He raised his pot of coffee to his lips and took a sip. After a few seconds, he realized that the pot was empty. He put the pot down and tried to get up to make more coffee. As he stood, his right leg gave out, and he fell back into his chair quite abruptly. He tried again, and this time, he was able to stand by putting most of his weight on his left side. He almost fell over again on the way to the coffee maker, but he made it there. For a moment, he stood in front of the coffee machine with absolutely no idea why he was there. Then the coffee pot fell out of his right hand, and he remembered. When he sat back down, he took two tablets out of the bottle of ibuprofen conveniently on his desk and swallowed them with hot coffee. If the right side of his body was already giving out, it was going to be a really bad migraine. Then he got back to work.
He was startled out of his attempts at work by his first pre-meeting alarm. One hour until the meeting. That was odd. He could have sworn he had six. He stood up to make himself a fresh pot of coffee but stumbled when he took a step with his right leg. His head hurt, so he reached for the bottle of ibuprofen on his desk. It was empty. How strange. It was nearly half full earlier. He would just have to suffer, apparently. At least he had coffee. The pot seemed to take forever to brew. Then he realized that the machine was out of water. He wouldn’t have coffee after all, unless he wanted to go track down water. His second pre-meeting alarm went off while he thought about it. Thirty minutes until the meeting. That was odd. He didn’t remember the first alarm going off.
He sat down at the meeting table and tried to remember what they were supposed to talk about today. He had some notes, but he couldn’t quite make out the words. His head hurt, but he seemed to have misplaced his ibuprofen somewhere. He also didn’t have any coffee, which was odd. He tried to straighten his tie, but his right hand wouldn’t grip the fabric, so he ended up just sliding it around. His third pre-meeting alarm went off while he messed with the fabric. Five minutes until the meeting. That was odd. It seemed like the second one had just gone off minutes ago. His head throbbed, and he gave in to the need to let it fall back against his chair. That made it feel worse. His ears were ringing, and he didn’t know why.
People were starting to show up. Each voice felt like a hammer against his skull. At least they weren’t talking to him, so he could try to look at least a little focused and hope no one would call him out on it. People were shouting, and it took all his strength to keep his head up. He was supposed to stop arguments, right? What were they arguing about? Everything was blurred, and he couldn’t tell the voices apart at all. He opened his mouth, but he couldn’t get his tongue to move the way he wanted it to. His body felt really heavy all of the sudden, and his head fell back against the chair again.
Someone was talking to him. Or at least, talking while facing in his general direction. He couldn’t really make out the words, so he just turned his head slightly in that direction to pretend he was paying attention. He could see a red and yellow blur gesturing towards him. Maryland? Maybe? It was too bright, so he closed his eyes. People were shouting again, but he ignored it. He was really tired all of the sudden. Maybe he could just take a nap. It wasn’t like the states listened to him anyway.
Someone was shaking him by the shoulders and shouting in his face. He tried to open his eyes, but the light felt like a knife to the brain, so he closed them again. The shaking stopped, which was nice. And the yelling was getting quieter. That was nice. That was very, very…
He opened his eyes and immediately squeezed them shut. It was far too bright in the room, and his head hurt.
“Oh, you’re awake again! Here, have some water.”
He knew that voice, didn’t he? It was… “Greg?” His throat felt dry, and he coughed weakly. Someone held a glass of water to his lips, and he sipped at it.
“Yeah, that’s me. CDC! He’s awake!”
He opened his eyes again and saw CDC holding a clipboard. “What’s going on?”
CDC gave him a sharp look and tapped his clipboard. “Do you want the bad news or the worse news?”
“Uh… The bad news?”
“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for the past four days, the blood won’t come out of your office floor, Florida made you cookies, and your suit’s ruined.”
He blinked. “What?”
“Your suit’s ruined.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Before that. Florida…?”
“Made you cookies. I wouldn’t eat them. I’m pretty sure he poisoned them.”
He pushed himself up and glanced at his bedside table. True enough, there was a plate of burnt cookies there. “And the worse news?”
CDC put down his clipboard. “You have a severe concussion and overdosed on ibuprofen. These factors combined resulted in levels of blood loss that would be fatal in a normal human. You’re taking a break from work.”
He gave a weak chuckle. “Well, I’m not human, so I don’t have to.”
CDC glared at him. “You don’t understand. You took enough ibuprofen to kill a child and permanently damage an adult. You lost enough blood to paint this entire room. You’ve woken up three times before this, and I bet you don’t remember a thing.”
“Well, no, but–“
“Nope! No objections! No complaints! You’re taking a break. Mandatory medical leave. I’ll write you a note.” CDC was true to his word and started scribbling on his clipboard. “Here you go.”
He took the paper and tried to read what it said, but between the doctor handwriting and the way his head kept pounding, he couldn’t understand a thing. Maybe CDC was right? No, couldn’t be. If CDC was right, he’d have to give him more funding. “I’ll be sure to follow your advice,” he said, smiling his politician smile.
“Yes,” CDC replied. “You will. I’ve set Florida on you.”
Oh no. “You… willingly talked to Florida?”
“Yeah. I did.” CDC turned towards the open doorway. “Florida? Gov’s trying to get back to work.”
Oh no. Florida ran into the room, lighter and Louisiana in hand. “One foot in that office and I’ll burn it to the ground!”
There was no escape.