silver_sun (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
silver_sun) wrote2014-02-09 10:19 pm
silver_sun) wrote2014-02-09 10:19 pm
Fic: Lives Are For Living. (26/40)
Title Lives Are For Living. (26/40)
Fandoms Torchwood/Being Human crossover fic.
Characters/pairings Andy Davidson/Tom McNair. Other Torchwood and Being Human characters will appear later on.
Word count: This part 3000 (Total posted 68000 /90,000)
Rating This part pg (adult over all) – see contains below.
Contains Mentions of depression/anxiety. Mentions of past canon major character death. Mention of minor character death – not canon. In later parts canon level violence, graphic sex, Andy's homophobic mother. Spoilers for Being Human (UK version) up to series 5 episode 3, and for Torchwood up to Children of Earth.
A/N: Crossover with Being Human. Technically a CoE fix it as it's set in the same 'verse as Finding Ways To Smile Again (although that isn't apparent until about 2/3 the way through the story). Follows on from Break and Breakaway from Tom McNair's POV – which is where it breaks from Being Human canon.
Summary
After being pushed out of the police force following the events of Children of Earth, Andy Davidson tries to build a new life for himself in the deep in the Welsh countryside.
Tom McNair walked out off his old life after realising it wasn't what he needed.
A chance meeting would take their lives in directions that they had never expected and bring them love that they'd not thought they'd find.
Starts here: http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/214504.html
After everything that had happened over Christmas the New Year had been very quiet. Not that Tom had minded. The days spent lounging around the farmhouse, taking the occasional walk either down to Elan village or around the reservoirs, just being together or catching up on sleep, had been just what they'd needed.
New Year and work had eventually resurfaced and Andy had thrown himself back into planning, ordering things and getting quotes from a variety of trades about what needed to be done so that they could open as a camp site by the summer. While for himself, although the farmer market where he sold his carvings was reasonably quiet at present, Mrs Griffifth's had asked him to help out there for a few days while she was off sick, having picked up some bug from her grandchildren.
The chance at earning a little extra money, especially with Andy's birthday just a couple of months away, and with the hope that perhaps it might become a more regular thing, Tom had agreed. It had been good too, talking to the customers and all that, he thought as he paused at the started to the track back up to the farm. At least up until the point he'd ended up with same bug Mrs Griffifths and her grandchildren had had. Then it had been pretty miserable.
Still he'd only had a couple of days working with it and tomorrow was Sunday, he told himself, and he'd have a lay in. Or at least until the evening, at which point the full moon would rise and he'd have to think of an excuse for disappearing for the night. No suitable one had yet come to mind, but Tom decided that was mainly because his head felt like it was filled with particularly spiky cotton wool at the moment.
After checking the letter box end of the track and wondering how it was possible to feel both too hot and too cold at the same time, Tom pulled his coat tighter about him and set off slowly through the deep snow that covered the Elan Valley and had settled in drifts along the roads and trackways.
The valley did look pretty amazing under the thick blanket of snow which had been slowly added to every few days since Christmas. So far the gritters had kept the main roads clear, but the with heavy, yellowish-white clouds that hung overhead, Tom wondered just how long that would be the case. The track up to the farm was already near impassable even for the landrover, and after another decent snowfall and it definitely would be. It was one of the reasons that he'd not called Andy to come and get him, that and the fact that he'd hoped that getting out in the cold, fresh air would help unblock his nose and make his throat feel a little less raw.
Not that it had worked, he thought miserably, stopping again so that he could lean against one of the trees as he coughed. Everything that could ache seemed to and Tom decided that he was almost looking forward to transforming, as hopefully the change of shape would get rid of the bug. As a cold cure though he doubted it would ever catch on. Not that he'd ever transformed while sick before. Generally he didn't get many colds, although that could have been because in recent years most of the people he spent time with couldn't get them due to being dead.
It had been years since he'd felt as rough as he did now, Tom thought. He'd still been living with his dad in the van then. McNair had been worried enough about him at the time to take him down to a drop in clinic that had been set up primarily to treat a traveller families who lived at a nearby camp site. It had been one of the Tom's less than favourite memories, as after sitting there for ages they were pretty much told to go away and not sit in the waiting room sharing flu germs with everybody else. It had only served to reinforce Tom's opinion that McNair was right and that doctors were best avoided.
Hoping that he wouldn't end up feeling as bad as he'd done then – sweating and shivering in the back of the van, half convinced the trees were walking around outside - Tom started walking again. Even if it had been horrible, he reminded himself, it had shown him how much his dad had cared, he'd stayed by him pretty much all time he'd been sick and not gone out to hunt vampires even once.
The walk back to the farmhouse took far longer than usual and it was almost dark when Tom let himself into the farmhouse. Feeling frozen and aching, he tried to be as quiet as he could, hoping that he could warm up a little before Andy saw him and started worrying about him. The change from cold damp air to warm and dry though set off a fresh bout of coughing before he could even get his coat off.
Andy who'd been sitting at the kitchen table when Tom had come in, put down the drainage and plumbing plans for the barn to shower block conversation and went over to him. “You walked back, didn't you?” Andy asked, sounding somewhere between annoyed and concerned, when Tom had finally stopped coughing. “You should have called me. You sound awful.”
Sitting down heavily on the sofa, Tom knew there was no point disagreeing about the sounding awful part. His throat felt raw from coughing, while his chest had joining in aching with the rest of him. “I thought the walk would do me good,” he said trying to justify it. “Any way, you've never got the landy down to the road.”
“I could have,” Andy said, helping Tom get out of his coat. “I took an evasive driving course, you know.”
“You can't avoid the snow,” Tom said and he tried to untie his boots, numb fingers fumbling over the snow soaked laces. “It's bloomin' everywhere an' I reckon there'll be more of it tonight.”
Andy looked at him for a moment then bent down to help him with his boots. “Alright.”
“You not gonna argue?”
“No. You sound rough enough that you really don't need it. So I'm going to get you some honey, lemon and some painkillers and hope that you start looking bit better soon.”
“A hot water bottle'd be nice an' all,” Tom said wondering if he was pushing his luck now. He knows his Dad would have thought so.
“You're cold?” Andy said, looking at Tom's flushed face and frowning. He pressed his hand to Tom's forehead. You're not you know.” Leaning over, he kissed him. “You should be in bed.”
“I should probably stay on the sofa,” Tom said, not wanting to have to move anywhere any time soon. “Don't want you catching it.”
“If I'm going to get it I will, regardless of where you're sleeping.” Andy held out a hand and helped pull Tom to his feet. “So you might as well be comfortable. I'm not using the laptop at the moment, so you can have that in there if you want.”
Tom shook his head. Looking at small, bright screen in dimly lit room sounded like something that would make the pounding in his head worse rather than better. Going from sitting to standing and shaking his head at almost the same time had been something of an error, Tom decided as the room felt like it had started to spin.
“Definitely bed,” Andy said, keeping an arm around him as they made their way through to the bedroom.
“Right, I'll go get you a drink,” Andy said once he'd helped Tom out of his clothes and got him settled under the covers.
“You don't have to,” Tom said, more out of an instilled idea of politeness than any real desire to have to get it himself. Not moving any time soon seemed like a good plan in Tom's opinion. He knew he could if he had to, but having somebody who wanted to look after him was nicer and less awkward than he'd thought it would be.
“I want to,” Andy replied, heading for the door back into the kitchen. “You've looked after me often enough.”
Lying down was good, Tom thought as he waited for Andy to come back, the room felt decidedly less spinny than it had and, now huddled under a thick duvet, he was marginally less cold. He'd feel better soon and then Andy wouldn't have to fuss and worry. He didn't like worrying him, especially not after what had happened over Christmas.
Andy had been different since what had happened at his Mums. More settled in some ways, which had been a surprise, although Tom put that down to Simon having been good about it all. There was an odd brittleness though that seemed to catch Andy some times. He'd snap about something he saw on the news or in the papers, a harsh vein of sarcasm in his words that Tom hadn't really heard before. It was never directed at him, and Tom knew that for all Andy said that the ongoing situation with his mother refusing to acknowledge their relationship was behind him, it wasn't and this was how it was coming out.
Things would get better, Tom decided, closing his eyes and settling back against the pillows. Sometimes things just worked themselves out on there own. Like the vampire biker lady back in Rhayader back before Christmas. He'd had a replied back from Hal about her, which could, despite covering several pages, have been summed up as 'I have no idea, but I don't want to admit it.' Hal not knowing who she was though was still useful in one sense. It meant she hadn't been an old one or a young and power hungry one who'd made a name for themselves. Harmless but really annoying like most of the vampires out there.
All the same, Tom told himself, if he ever got the chance he'd stake her or follow her to where they had the dog fights and stake the lot of them before they got to ruin anybody else's lives. Yet to do that he'd have to go on a full moon, he'd have to slip away without telling Andy anything about where he was going or why. But what if it went wrong? What if they caught him and he ended up being the one in the cage? What if went even more wrong? If he was killed. Andy would never know what had happened to him, He'd have just slipped out one night never to return. He couldn't do that. Couldn't put Andy through something like that, not when he could just avoid the vampires rather than go looking for trouble. “I won't leave you,” Tom promised.
“I should hope not. It's freezing out there. You were...”
Tom opened his eyes to see Andy had come back bringing the promised hot lemon.
Andy stopped, something raw and fearful in his eyes as he put down the mug on the bedside table and took Tom's hand in his. “Is something wrong? I mean really wrong, you would tell me?”
“'course of I would,” Tom promised him quickly, wishing that he'd been a little more careful about not staying certain things aloud. “I'm jus' feeling a bit ropey an' not really thinking what I'm saying.”
“If you're sure,” Andy said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, still looked worried.
“Yeah.” Tom drank some of the lemon, barely tasting it. “I just need some sleep that's all.”
* * *
It had not been a good night, Tom thought as he lay on the sofa the following morning. The shivering, sweating and coughing had not eased over night, and had been added to now by being sick every few hours or so. Even the usually energy that seemed to precede a transformation seemed to be lacking. Or perhaps it was still there and it was just that he'd have felt even worse without it.
Andy had suggested that he should stay in bed, but Tom had told him that he didn't feel any better from it so he'd try watching a bit of telly instead in the hope that it might take his mind off it. So sore and miserable, Tom listlessly flicked through TV channels for something that might actually distract him for a while.
Bit was all a bit rubbish really, he decided. One channel had a smarmy presenter patronising his increasingly odd guest as they argued and complained about things like their boyfriend running off to Spain with their Granny or finding the hotel they were going to stay at was really a shopping centre. Other channels provided gardening – which he found boring, cooking – which made him feel a bit sick or quiz shows that his frazzled brain refused to follow. All in all it was
He doubted Andy had had much sleep with him moving about restlessly half the night. Not that Andy had complained. There probably wasn't time for complaining with the amount of worrying that Andy seemed to be doing.
“Nothing on?” Andy said, sitting down beside him.
Tom shook his head. “Why do they make all this stuff? Who would want to what it?”
“Lots of people I suppose, or they wouldn't put it on.” Andy moved slightly so that Tom could rest his head against his shoulder. “I could put on a film if you like?”
It was worth a try Tom thought. At the very least it was kind of nice being able to lean against Andy, it made him feel marginally better. “Alright, I don't mind what. Well not that alien one with the stomach. I don't think that'd be a good idea.”
“Okay.” Andy took the TV control and after a short while of grumbling about the sub menus found the connection to the extra external hard drive they'd got for they laptop so they could store films. “What about one about knights and castle. Based on real history apparently.”
Tom nodded, then closed his eyes, trying to avoid the rather took bright trailers that filled the screen prior to the film.
It probably was a decent film, there seemed to be a lot of fighting and plot going on, but as a distraction from how rubbish he was feeling it was failing. Noticing that Tom seemed less than enthralled, Andy paused the film. “Not your thing?”
“Don't think anything my thing right now,” Tom replied, voice hoarse from too much coughing.
“You can take something. There's nothing noble about suffering in silence, you know,” Andy said getting up. “I'll see what we've got.”
With the extra space on the sofa Tom stretched out, wondering if he got any tireder whether he could sleep and if in fact tireder was actually a word, and if it wasn't whether it really should be.
After a couple of minutes Andy returned with a couple of packets and a glass of water. Sitting on the arm of the sofa he held them out to Tom. “You can take one or the other or both as they are different stuff.” He pointed at one of the packets. “This one is supposed to help you sleep if you've got the flu.”
Sleep sounded good. If he could sleep he'd be alright, Tom decided, then he could figure out what to do about tonight. George had told him once that he'd managed to sleep right through a transformation by taking something. It wasn't a good idea to do it month after month as the wolf got cranky and made you do weird stuff until you let it out properly. How much or of what Tom didn't know, George hadn't been particularly forthcoming about it and he'd not really ever considered it as a viable solution.
Normally he just put up with things, like his dad had done. Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger, he'd said. He didn't feel strong right now though, he he was honest felt just about as wretched as he'd ever felt in his entire life. Nodding, he took the offered tablets and water.
“Do you want to go back to bed?” Andy asked, taking back the glass only once Tom had drunk all the water.
“Nah.” Moving didn't seem like it would gain much as he was almost approaching comfortable at the moment, so Tom shook his head. “I'll move if I think I'm gonna sleep.”
“Alright.” Andy gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “I'm going to go over the plans and costings for getting the farm track sorted out. No point opening a camp site if nobody can get to it. If you need anything just give me a shout.”
Tom nodded and closed his eyes. It was good that Andy had found something else to focus on, even though Tom was sure that Andy was actually having to push himself to do it, rather than it being something he wanted to do. It had to be better than worrying. Knowing that he was the source of at least some of Andy worry wasn't a nice feeling. Neither was the fact that he'd have to find a way of leaving him alone tonight so he could change.
Andy was too stressed with other stuff to deal with the whole werewolf thing right now, Tom decided, plus he really didn't feel up to dealing with telling him at the moment. Thoughts about how and when he should tell Andy and what the result would be chased themselves around his head until the stuff that Andy had given him started to work. The thoughts and throbbing in his head as well as the background noise of the TV slowly slipped away as Tom finally fell into a much needed sleep.
Part 27 http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/227462.html
Fandoms Torchwood/Being Human crossover fic.
Characters/pairings Andy Davidson/Tom McNair. Other Torchwood and Being Human characters will appear later on.
Word count: This part 3000 (Total posted 68000 /90,000)
Rating This part pg (adult over all) – see contains below.
Contains Mentions of depression/anxiety. Mentions of past canon major character death. Mention of minor character death – not canon. In later parts canon level violence, graphic sex, Andy's homophobic mother. Spoilers for Being Human (UK version) up to series 5 episode 3, and for Torchwood up to Children of Earth.
A/N: Crossover with Being Human. Technically a CoE fix it as it's set in the same 'verse as Finding Ways To Smile Again (although that isn't apparent until about 2/3 the way through the story). Follows on from Break and Breakaway from Tom McNair's POV – which is where it breaks from Being Human canon.
Summary
After being pushed out of the police force following the events of Children of Earth, Andy Davidson tries to build a new life for himself in the deep in the Welsh countryside.
Tom McNair walked out off his old life after realising it wasn't what he needed.
A chance meeting would take their lives in directions that they had never expected and bring them love that they'd not thought they'd find.
Starts here: http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/214504.html
After everything that had happened over Christmas the New Year had been very quiet. Not that Tom had minded. The days spent lounging around the farmhouse, taking the occasional walk either down to Elan village or around the reservoirs, just being together or catching up on sleep, had been just what they'd needed.
New Year and work had eventually resurfaced and Andy had thrown himself back into planning, ordering things and getting quotes from a variety of trades about what needed to be done so that they could open as a camp site by the summer. While for himself, although the farmer market where he sold his carvings was reasonably quiet at present, Mrs Griffifth's had asked him to help out there for a few days while she was off sick, having picked up some bug from her grandchildren.
The chance at earning a little extra money, especially with Andy's birthday just a couple of months away, and with the hope that perhaps it might become a more regular thing, Tom had agreed. It had been good too, talking to the customers and all that, he thought as he paused at the started to the track back up to the farm. At least up until the point he'd ended up with same bug Mrs Griffifths and her grandchildren had had. Then it had been pretty miserable.
Still he'd only had a couple of days working with it and tomorrow was Sunday, he told himself, and he'd have a lay in. Or at least until the evening, at which point the full moon would rise and he'd have to think of an excuse for disappearing for the night. No suitable one had yet come to mind, but Tom decided that was mainly because his head felt like it was filled with particularly spiky cotton wool at the moment.
After checking the letter box end of the track and wondering how it was possible to feel both too hot and too cold at the same time, Tom pulled his coat tighter about him and set off slowly through the deep snow that covered the Elan Valley and had settled in drifts along the roads and trackways.
The valley did look pretty amazing under the thick blanket of snow which had been slowly added to every few days since Christmas. So far the gritters had kept the main roads clear, but the with heavy, yellowish-white clouds that hung overhead, Tom wondered just how long that would be the case. The track up to the farm was already near impassable even for the landrover, and after another decent snowfall and it definitely would be. It was one of the reasons that he'd not called Andy to come and get him, that and the fact that he'd hoped that getting out in the cold, fresh air would help unblock his nose and make his throat feel a little less raw.
Not that it had worked, he thought miserably, stopping again so that he could lean against one of the trees as he coughed. Everything that could ache seemed to and Tom decided that he was almost looking forward to transforming, as hopefully the change of shape would get rid of the bug. As a cold cure though he doubted it would ever catch on. Not that he'd ever transformed while sick before. Generally he didn't get many colds, although that could have been because in recent years most of the people he spent time with couldn't get them due to being dead.
It had been years since he'd felt as rough as he did now, Tom thought. He'd still been living with his dad in the van then. McNair had been worried enough about him at the time to take him down to a drop in clinic that had been set up primarily to treat a traveller families who lived at a nearby camp site. It had been one of the Tom's less than favourite memories, as after sitting there for ages they were pretty much told to go away and not sit in the waiting room sharing flu germs with everybody else. It had only served to reinforce Tom's opinion that McNair was right and that doctors were best avoided.
Hoping that he wouldn't end up feeling as bad as he'd done then – sweating and shivering in the back of the van, half convinced the trees were walking around outside - Tom started walking again. Even if it had been horrible, he reminded himself, it had shown him how much his dad had cared, he'd stayed by him pretty much all time he'd been sick and not gone out to hunt vampires even once.
The walk back to the farmhouse took far longer than usual and it was almost dark when Tom let himself into the farmhouse. Feeling frozen and aching, he tried to be as quiet as he could, hoping that he could warm up a little before Andy saw him and started worrying about him. The change from cold damp air to warm and dry though set off a fresh bout of coughing before he could even get his coat off.
Andy who'd been sitting at the kitchen table when Tom had come in, put down the drainage and plumbing plans for the barn to shower block conversation and went over to him. “You walked back, didn't you?” Andy asked, sounding somewhere between annoyed and concerned, when Tom had finally stopped coughing. “You should have called me. You sound awful.”
Sitting down heavily on the sofa, Tom knew there was no point disagreeing about the sounding awful part. His throat felt raw from coughing, while his chest had joining in aching with the rest of him. “I thought the walk would do me good,” he said trying to justify it. “Any way, you've never got the landy down to the road.”
“I could have,” Andy said, helping Tom get out of his coat. “I took an evasive driving course, you know.”
“You can't avoid the snow,” Tom said and he tried to untie his boots, numb fingers fumbling over the snow soaked laces. “It's bloomin' everywhere an' I reckon there'll be more of it tonight.”
Andy looked at him for a moment then bent down to help him with his boots. “Alright.”
“You not gonna argue?”
“No. You sound rough enough that you really don't need it. So I'm going to get you some honey, lemon and some painkillers and hope that you start looking bit better soon.”
“A hot water bottle'd be nice an' all,” Tom said wondering if he was pushing his luck now. He knows his Dad would have thought so.
“You're cold?” Andy said, looking at Tom's flushed face and frowning. He pressed his hand to Tom's forehead. You're not you know.” Leaning over, he kissed him. “You should be in bed.”
“I should probably stay on the sofa,” Tom said, not wanting to have to move anywhere any time soon. “Don't want you catching it.”
“If I'm going to get it I will, regardless of where you're sleeping.” Andy held out a hand and helped pull Tom to his feet. “So you might as well be comfortable. I'm not using the laptop at the moment, so you can have that in there if you want.”
Tom shook his head. Looking at small, bright screen in dimly lit room sounded like something that would make the pounding in his head worse rather than better. Going from sitting to standing and shaking his head at almost the same time had been something of an error, Tom decided as the room felt like it had started to spin.
“Definitely bed,” Andy said, keeping an arm around him as they made their way through to the bedroom.
“Right, I'll go get you a drink,” Andy said once he'd helped Tom out of his clothes and got him settled under the covers.
“You don't have to,” Tom said, more out of an instilled idea of politeness than any real desire to have to get it himself. Not moving any time soon seemed like a good plan in Tom's opinion. He knew he could if he had to, but having somebody who wanted to look after him was nicer and less awkward than he'd thought it would be.
“I want to,” Andy replied, heading for the door back into the kitchen. “You've looked after me often enough.”
Lying down was good, Tom thought as he waited for Andy to come back, the room felt decidedly less spinny than it had and, now huddled under a thick duvet, he was marginally less cold. He'd feel better soon and then Andy wouldn't have to fuss and worry. He didn't like worrying him, especially not after what had happened over Christmas.
Andy had been different since what had happened at his Mums. More settled in some ways, which had been a surprise, although Tom put that down to Simon having been good about it all. There was an odd brittleness though that seemed to catch Andy some times. He'd snap about something he saw on the news or in the papers, a harsh vein of sarcasm in his words that Tom hadn't really heard before. It was never directed at him, and Tom knew that for all Andy said that the ongoing situation with his mother refusing to acknowledge their relationship was behind him, it wasn't and this was how it was coming out.
Things would get better, Tom decided, closing his eyes and settling back against the pillows. Sometimes things just worked themselves out on there own. Like the vampire biker lady back in Rhayader back before Christmas. He'd had a replied back from Hal about her, which could, despite covering several pages, have been summed up as 'I have no idea, but I don't want to admit it.' Hal not knowing who she was though was still useful in one sense. It meant she hadn't been an old one or a young and power hungry one who'd made a name for themselves. Harmless but really annoying like most of the vampires out there.
All the same, Tom told himself, if he ever got the chance he'd stake her or follow her to where they had the dog fights and stake the lot of them before they got to ruin anybody else's lives. Yet to do that he'd have to go on a full moon, he'd have to slip away without telling Andy anything about where he was going or why. But what if it went wrong? What if they caught him and he ended up being the one in the cage? What if went even more wrong? If he was killed. Andy would never know what had happened to him, He'd have just slipped out one night never to return. He couldn't do that. Couldn't put Andy through something like that, not when he could just avoid the vampires rather than go looking for trouble. “I won't leave you,” Tom promised.
“I should hope not. It's freezing out there. You were...”
Tom opened his eyes to see Andy had come back bringing the promised hot lemon.
Andy stopped, something raw and fearful in his eyes as he put down the mug on the bedside table and took Tom's hand in his. “Is something wrong? I mean really wrong, you would tell me?”
“'course of I would,” Tom promised him quickly, wishing that he'd been a little more careful about not staying certain things aloud. “I'm jus' feeling a bit ropey an' not really thinking what I'm saying.”
“If you're sure,” Andy said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, still looked worried.
“Yeah.” Tom drank some of the lemon, barely tasting it. “I just need some sleep that's all.”
* * *
It had not been a good night, Tom thought as he lay on the sofa the following morning. The shivering, sweating and coughing had not eased over night, and had been added to now by being sick every few hours or so. Even the usually energy that seemed to precede a transformation seemed to be lacking. Or perhaps it was still there and it was just that he'd have felt even worse without it.
Andy had suggested that he should stay in bed, but Tom had told him that he didn't feel any better from it so he'd try watching a bit of telly instead in the hope that it might take his mind off it. So sore and miserable, Tom listlessly flicked through TV channels for something that might actually distract him for a while.
Bit was all a bit rubbish really, he decided. One channel had a smarmy presenter patronising his increasingly odd guest as they argued and complained about things like their boyfriend running off to Spain with their Granny or finding the hotel they were going to stay at was really a shopping centre. Other channels provided gardening – which he found boring, cooking – which made him feel a bit sick or quiz shows that his frazzled brain refused to follow. All in all it was
He doubted Andy had had much sleep with him moving about restlessly half the night. Not that Andy had complained. There probably wasn't time for complaining with the amount of worrying that Andy seemed to be doing.
“Nothing on?” Andy said, sitting down beside him.
Tom shook his head. “Why do they make all this stuff? Who would want to what it?”
“Lots of people I suppose, or they wouldn't put it on.” Andy moved slightly so that Tom could rest his head against his shoulder. “I could put on a film if you like?”
It was worth a try Tom thought. At the very least it was kind of nice being able to lean against Andy, it made him feel marginally better. “Alright, I don't mind what. Well not that alien one with the stomach. I don't think that'd be a good idea.”
“Okay.” Andy took the TV control and after a short while of grumbling about the sub menus found the connection to the extra external hard drive they'd got for they laptop so they could store films. “What about one about knights and castle. Based on real history apparently.”
Tom nodded, then closed his eyes, trying to avoid the rather took bright trailers that filled the screen prior to the film.
It probably was a decent film, there seemed to be a lot of fighting and plot going on, but as a distraction from how rubbish he was feeling it was failing. Noticing that Tom seemed less than enthralled, Andy paused the film. “Not your thing?”
“Don't think anything my thing right now,” Tom replied, voice hoarse from too much coughing.
“You can take something. There's nothing noble about suffering in silence, you know,” Andy said getting up. “I'll see what we've got.”
With the extra space on the sofa Tom stretched out, wondering if he got any tireder whether he could sleep and if in fact tireder was actually a word, and if it wasn't whether it really should be.
After a couple of minutes Andy returned with a couple of packets and a glass of water. Sitting on the arm of the sofa he held them out to Tom. “You can take one or the other or both as they are different stuff.” He pointed at one of the packets. “This one is supposed to help you sleep if you've got the flu.”
Sleep sounded good. If he could sleep he'd be alright, Tom decided, then he could figure out what to do about tonight. George had told him once that he'd managed to sleep right through a transformation by taking something. It wasn't a good idea to do it month after month as the wolf got cranky and made you do weird stuff until you let it out properly. How much or of what Tom didn't know, George hadn't been particularly forthcoming about it and he'd not really ever considered it as a viable solution.
Normally he just put up with things, like his dad had done. Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger, he'd said. He didn't feel strong right now though, he he was honest felt just about as wretched as he'd ever felt in his entire life. Nodding, he took the offered tablets and water.
“Do you want to go back to bed?” Andy asked, taking back the glass only once Tom had drunk all the water.
“Nah.” Moving didn't seem like it would gain much as he was almost approaching comfortable at the moment, so Tom shook his head. “I'll move if I think I'm gonna sleep.”
“Alright.” Andy gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “I'm going to go over the plans and costings for getting the farm track sorted out. No point opening a camp site if nobody can get to it. If you need anything just give me a shout.”
Tom nodded and closed his eyes. It was good that Andy had found something else to focus on, even though Tom was sure that Andy was actually having to push himself to do it, rather than it being something he wanted to do. It had to be better than worrying. Knowing that he was the source of at least some of Andy worry wasn't a nice feeling. Neither was the fact that he'd have to find a way of leaving him alone tonight so he could change.
Andy was too stressed with other stuff to deal with the whole werewolf thing right now, Tom decided, plus he really didn't feel up to dealing with telling him at the moment. Thoughts about how and when he should tell Andy and what the result would be chased themselves around his head until the stuff that Andy had given him started to work. The thoughts and throbbing in his head as well as the background noise of the TV slowly slipped away as Tom finally fell into a much needed sleep.
Part 27 http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/227462.html