your lungs theyre mourning

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Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/8976082. Rating: Archive Warning: Category: Fandom: Relationship: Character:

Teen And Up Audiences No Archive Warnings Apply M/M

Additional Tags:

Sickfic, Eskild is the Mom Friend, Vilde is the Kosegruppa queen, isak is in denial, Sick Isak, Caring Even, Sad Isak, isak is everyone's smol bean, Pneumonia, Evak - Freeform, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort Published: 2016-12-23 Words: 4151

Stats:

SKAM (TV) Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen Even Bech Næsheim, Isak Valtersen, Eskild Tryggvason, Linn Larsen Hansen, Noora Amalie Sætre, Vilde Hellerud Lien

your lungs, they're mourning by boxesofflowers, Eeyoreneedsahug Summary

Isak doesn’t want to be sick. He doesn’t want to worry anyone. He doesn’t know how to be taken care of. Even wants to try.

Notes

Chinese Translation by AryaEinstein Priscilla: attempting to populate the sickfic portion of this fandom. Chloë: along for the ride. Title from Pnemonia by Björk

See the end of the work for more notes

“You’re sure you’re alright, Isak?” The younger boy nods, but doesn’t open his eyes. Even wonders idly if he’s trying to fall asleep - the cafeteria is loud and fairly cold, and Even can’t imagine it’s comfortable. His head is resting on Even’s shoulder. “You’re tired?” “No. I mean, maybe. A little.” Still, his eyes are closed, and Even brushes a few strands of hair out of his boyfriend’s face. Isak’s forehead is warm, and Even covertly tries to gauge whether or not

his boyfriend has a fever. Isak sniffles, and rubs his nose on his sleeve. It’s tinged pink, on the way to being bright red. Even knows better than to mention it, but Isak has a cold. Jonas and Mahdi are having a loud conversation about something he’s fairly sure Isak would normally be enamored with, but he only murmurs an occasional response. “Yo! What up!” Magnus shouts as he plops down in the empty seat on the right of Isak. He throws an arm over Isaks back and Isak splutters out a cough. He seems to realize that he can’t get away with his half-asleep silent strategy, so he sits up, giving Magnus a small smile. Quickly, Magnus launches into an enthusiastic story about his latest encounter with Vilde. “You have class after this?” Even whispers, and Isak shakes his head, settling his cheek on the tabletop, relishing in the cool surface against his burning cheek. He swears he can feel someone hammering a nail into his temple. Even runs his hand over his boyfriend’s back. “Ok. Do you want me to stay?” “Mmm.” Isak murmurs non-committally, and Even smirks. “That’s a yes?” “Mmmm.” “Alright weirdo. Get some sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up.” He pulls off his own sweater and tucks it beneath Isak’s head before settling back into his own seat, waiting for the period to end. --Unsurprisingly, Isak does not feel better when he wakes up. Even is shaking his shoulder gently, hushedly telling him it’s time to leave, but Isak can’t focus on that. All he knows is he can’t breathe. He coughs hard, it tears at his throat, but he can’t stop. Finally his lungs begin to cooperate, and he manages to take a few deep breaths. His head is still pounding, and he’s surprised to find that he can’t breathe through his nose anymore. To his dismay, this cold (flu?) wasn’t getting any better. If anything, it was getting worse. “Are you ok? I think you should go to the School Doctor.” Even looks slightly upset, and Isak hopes it isn’t his fault. The last thing he wants is to worry Even- things had been hard enough lately for his boyfriend. He’d been struggling through a depressive episode the past few weeks, and although Isak had started feeling ill a few days ago, he’d tried his best to keep it from Even. “I’m totally fine. I just...I don’t know. It’s fine.” Isak clears his throat and sits up, having to take a moment to let his lightheadedness pass. “Isak.” Even is staring at him expectantly, as if waiting for something. “What?” Even raises an eyebrow. “You have nothing to say to me?” Isak sniffs, trying to keep his nose from running. He shrugs. “What are you doing tonight?” “Busy.” He chokes, clipping his words with a sharp cough. Even keeps his eyes on Isak for another moment or so, again, as if waiting for a change. Carefully, he cups Isak’s flushed cheek, laying a kiss on his hot temple. The contrast in temperature makes the younger boy shiver, and he hopes it’s hidden under the bulk of his sweater. Even stands, fingers slowly leaving his boyfriend’s overheated skin.

“Bye, beautiful.” --Isak hears his phone vibrating on the floor next to the mattress, but he can’t muster the energy to pick it up or to care. By the time he’d gotten home he’d been overcome by a feeling of cold he couldn’t shake, despite the fact that he was sweating more than he ever had in his life. He’d stolen a blanket from Eskild’s room, but even two comforters and a sheet couldn’t make a dent in the strange freezing sensation. It seems like he’s been lying there shivering, trying halfheartedly to watch television, for an eternity when he hears Eskild in the kitchen, talking to somebody over the phone. “No, no, I haven’t seen him yet...I’m pretty sure he’s here, his coat is anyway...I will. Ok. Bye.” A few moments later, there’s a knock on his door that makes his head pound, and he flips off the tv. “What?” He tries to make his voice sound as average as possible, but it comes out sounding like he’s holding his nose. The door opens, Eskild leans against the frame, arms crossed. “You alright?” Isak wipes his dripping forehead with the back of his wrist, futilely trying to hide any evidence that he isn’t in fact alright. “Even just-” Before Isak can stop himself, he breaks out into a coughing fit, the worst he’s had so far. “Uh, Eskild?” He can barely get the words out. “Can you...not tell Even? About this?” “Wh-” “We’re in a fight. I don’t-” He’s cut off by another string of harsh coughs, and he curls inward, one arm wrapped around his sore ribs. He feels a hand on his shoulder. The lie makes his stomach twist, but he’d rather lie than get Even all worried and stressed. “Yeah. It’s alright.” Immediately, Isak feels a small measure of relief. He sighs wearily, letting his eyes fall closed again. He feels a somewhat rough touch on his forehead, and a moment later the sensation is gone. ---“You should really eat, Isak.” Eskild holds out a plate of scrambled eggs, but Isak shakes his head, playing with the hem of his sweatshirt under the table. “Just the toast then?” “M’okay.” Eskild sets the plate down, despite Isak’s protest. He woke up only a few minutes ago, and was dragged into the kitchen, still wrapped in a blanket from his bed. “If you really don’t want Even to know about this-” “I don’t.” “Well then you’re gonna have to cooperate a little bit. These are my guru terms and conditions. Toast. Eat it.” Reluctantly, Isak takes a small bite, and Eskild ruffles his hair. He starts a conversation with Linn, who’d been waiting in the hallway. Isak tunes them out, trying to ignore the rolling in his stomach. “Now tell me about this fight. Guru will help.” Eskild is watching him with his head slightly tilted. He can tell Linn is waiting in anticipation.

“It’s...uh…” Isak clears his throat. “It’s sort of...” He mumbles, a pang of guilt at having lied to the one person he trusts enough to watch him while he’s feeling this way. Eskild rolls his eyes before speaking. “Yes…?” he prompts. “Technically, we’re not, uh, in a fight.” Eskild sighs. “He thinks I’m sick, and I mean, he might be a little bit right, but I’m fine and I don’t want him to worry and get upset or something when I’m...ok.” Isak stutters, punctuating his words with a cough. Eskild raises his eyebrows. “He called last night worried about you, and I lied, because I thought-Jesus, Isak.” “I’m ok. Really.” “I beg to differ.” Isak gives another hacking cough in response. “Either way, that boy loves you and you love him.” “I know.” --It’s almost two by the time Even finally spots Isak in the hall. He’s leaning against a bank of lockers, clutching his Biology notebook, talking to Sana. “Hey.” Isak looks up, smiling when he sees the older boy. “Hey.” Sana mumbles something about how she’ll come back after the orgy is over, and leaves with a smirk. “I was hoping you’d stayed in today.” Even says, and Isak’s smile dims. “Why would I?” It’s almost as if they’re playing a game of chicken. They’re both waiting for the other to state the obvious. Isak has resolved not to give in. Finally, Even breaks the silence. “You’re sick.” “I’m not.” Even touches his cheek, clearly unconvinced. “Stop it!” He pulls away, and the small look of hurt on Even’s face makes his heart ache. “Isak, I’m just trying to help.” “I don’t need your help, I’m fine.” He expects Even to argue, but surprisingly, the older boy just takes a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Well, I guess just let me know when you do.” Even still has that look of hurt, but there’s a hint of malice in his voice. Before Isak can change his mind, his boyfriend’s gone. --Isak’s Saturday passes slow, mostly full of odd bouts of chills and nausea, and unanswered text messages. Well, he’s answered a few. One was him bailing on a pregame and another was to Even’s little sister, trying to explain why he wouldn’t be coming over. “Knock knock.” Eskild says, pushing into his room. “Go away.” Isak groans throwing his comforter over his head. “I don’t want to talk.”

“I brought food.” Isak hears the rustling of a bag and feels a dip in the mattress. “M’not hungry.” “Not eating is only going to make it worse. Also, and I hate to bring this up yet again-” Isak already knows what Eskild is going to say. “Even doesn’t need to know about this.” “He’s worried. With good cause, I might add.” Isak buries himself deeper in the blankets, wincing when he feels how damp the pillowcase is. He doesn’t want to look at Eskild - he doesn’t want to see the look of concern he knows is there. In fact, he doesn’t want to lie here anymore. He needs to walk, to get out. “I told you, I-” His protest is cut off by a harsh string of coughs that rattle in his chest. Eskild peels the blankets back, revealing Isak’s shaking frame, and pats his back. When it finally passes, he’s left gasping and exhausted. He’d finish his sentence, but he’s pretty sure Eskild already knows what he was about to say anyway, and frankly, he’s too breathless to speak. “Fuck whatever’s going on with Even, you need to take care of yourself.” Isak rubs his eyes, forcing himself to sit up. “I think I might go out for a little while.” He can tell Eskild isn’t convinced, so he quickly adds, “Maybe get some food. See Even maybe.” It’s all bullshit of course, but he hopes Eskild won’t be able to tell. “That sounds good. That sounds really good, Isak.” Eskild sounds genuinely proud. “Promise just to Even’s though, right?” Isak nods, and Eskild gives him a small smile. --Once Isak is outside, feeling the cold on his cheeks, hands shoved in his pockets, he actually considers keeping his promise to Eskild. However, it feels refreshing to be out of the house, and there is no way he wants to speak to Even. His phone in his pocket vibrates, and he pulls it out with shaking fingers. It’s a text from Even. He sits down on a bench nearby, adjusting the beanie over his ears before opening it. He hasn’t opened any of the ones he’s gotten over the past day, so he’s met with a string of increasingly desperate messages.

Isak’s stomach turns.

--It’s a few hours later and Isak still hasn’t dared to check his phone again. He’s sat in the corner of the café down the street from the flat and he can count on one hand the times he has felt worse. He can’t go more than a few minutes without succumbing to fits of coughing, and his head hurts so bad he can hardly think straight. The fever makes everything slow and messy and confusing, it makes his muscles ache. He’s clutching a paper cup of tea, now mostly cold, and trying to gather the strength to make the walk back. His phone rings - Even. He slips it back into his pocket and stands, shrugging on his coat. As he walks outside, into the now falling snow, his phone buzzes again. New Voicemail Even Kosegruppa. The cold air hurts his chest, and after a while, just picking up his feet is a struggle. His nose is running and his throat is sore, and he wishes he could have Even here, if only for a few minutes, to hold him and tell him things will be ok. To feel his boyfriend’s warm arms around him and let himself finally relax. But he knows he can’t have any of that - a few minutes would be impossible. The moment Even saw him like this he’d be beyond upset, they’d get in an argument, and all the hard work Isak had been putting into proving he was ok would be for nothing. It’d be easier for everyone if he just took care of this himself, but still, he wants Even more than anything. It’s only when he gets back to the building that he realizes he forgot his keys. He knows where they are, too. At the bottom of his schoolbag, which is sitting on one of the kitchen chairs. He spits out a swear, and pushes the buzzer, sniffling wetly. He waits for Eskild’s voice to crackle through the speaker, but there’s no response. He buzzes again. Still, nothing. The snow is falling more heavily now, and Isak can’t keep a few frustrated tears from slipping down his cheeks. Why couldn’t things just go right? “Isak?” The voice sounds oddly familiar, but his feverish brain can’t place it. He turns around, and there stands Even, snow scattered on his shoulders, one hand clutching a plastic grocery bag. Quickly, he wipes his eyes, trying not to look pathetic. “What are you doing out here?” “Even.” It’s all he can get out around his shaking breaths, and he feels hot tears on his cheeks. He sees his boyfriend’s concern grow, and it makes his already aching stomach roll. “Yeah, yeah it’s me.” Fingers are on his cheeks, and he wonders how Even got so close so fast. “What’s going on?” “Even.” He feels himself pulled closed to the older boy’s chest, arms wrapped tight around him. It’s better than he imagined. The lobby door clicks open, and Even moves away slightly. Before he realizes what’s happened, they’re upstairs, and Even’s arm is draped protectively around his shoulders. Eskild opens the door, and Isak’s quickly ushered inside. Carefully, Even takes off Isak’s coat and hat, sits him down, unties his shoes, peels off his damp socks - Isak didn’t realize his feet were wet. He’s so dizzy, he can’t really process what’s going on, so passively, he lets his boyfriend fuss over him. Eyes closed, he just tries to keep from shivering too hard or breaking out into a coughing fit. “...I don’t know. I wish he would have told me.” Even says, but Isak senses the words aren’t for him. There’s rustling plastic and the banging of the fridge door - everything sounds so loud. “He’s insane.” Eskild says, and Even laughs. “Maybe. But that’s alright.” He says. The sound of footsteps, and Isak feels a hand on his

shoulder. He opens his eyes, and before he can stop it, a heavy fit of coughs escapes, making him double over, an arm wrapping around his sore ribs. They’ve started to sound worse, and they hurt more, and though Isak knows this isn’t a good sign, he’s not quite sure what to do about it. “Hurts, Even.” He can’t form a complete sentence, he just knows he needs help. Even goes in crisis mode, his face hardening, his hands beginning to shake. “What can I do?” He turns to Eskild. “Do you know?” “Fuck. We should google it. Give me your phone. Where is my phone?” “What the fuck it going on here?” Noora walks into the kitchen, her lipstick only half applied. “Isak is dying. Help us.” Noora looks equal parts concerned and disgusted. “Are you kidding me?” Isak immediately breaks out into another coughing fit, and Noora frowns. “Ok. Uh, I don’t...I don’t know what to do.” “Even.” Isak rasps, hoping his boyfriend will get the message that he’s about to vomit. “Don’feel good.” “I know, but it’s gonna be ok.” Even smooths back some of his hair, but quickly turns back to face Noora and Eskild, who are both now frantically talking over each other. Even tries to tune them out, instead focusing on the quiet, hoarse voice in front of him. “No. Bad bad. Really bad.” Isak slurs, and tries to grab Even’s hand. He tries to slide closer to the garbage can but it’s so far away. Has it always been that far away? The kitchen seems so cozy when it’s just Even, the radio, and him. How did it get so far away? He dry heaves, wanting to cry at the new pain in his already strained muscles. Eskild jerks back slightly and grabs wildly for the wastebasket, only managing to hit Noora in the face. “Here!” Noora shouts, shoving it at him, and he passes it to Even. Isak grabs it with shaking hands and heaves again, but nothing comes up. It then hits him that he hasn’t eaten in almost two days - there’s nothing to throw up. Still, his body doesn’t seem to understand, and keeps straining to get rid of something that isn’t there. Even kneels in front of him, one hand on Isak’s shoulder to keep him from keeling over, and the other running through his damp curls. “It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok.” Even keeps muttering, trying to stay as calm as he can. Seeing Isak like this is enough to give him a panic attack, but he knows he has to be the strong one right now - he has to be the one who knows how to make things ok. Finally, Isak seems to calm down, and Even gives him a soft kiss on the forehead. He frowns, testing his boyfriend’s forehead with his palm, then the backs of his fingers. All Even can think about is how in hell he let this happen. --“I think he has pneumonia?” says Linn looking up from her phone. “Fuck. That’s a problem.” Eskild says, fiddling with the thermometer that Even had bought before he’d come over. Luckily, the older boy had the forethought to stop at the drug store and pick up

some basic necessities before coming over. Isak is curled on the bed, shivering underneath the heavy comforter, one hand desperately clutching Even’s. “Everyone go away.” Isak murmurs, pulling his legs in closer to his chest. “Even stays.” “Of course. Leave your guru but the medically inept boyfriend can stay. Classic.” Eskild jokes, but when Isak doesn’t give so much as a smile, he abandons the act, handing the thermometer to Even before leaving with Linn and a promise to make tea for Isak and coffee for Even. They’re silent for a few minutes - Even perched on the edge of the bed, Isak clutching his hand. The only sounds are the gasping of Isak’s breathing and the occasional click from the radiator. Eventually, Isak speaks. “Sorry.” Even looks at him in surprise. “Huh?” He says, caught off guard. “I’m sorry.” Isak repeats. “I don’t...don’t know how.” Even’s having trouble understanding what exactly Isak is trying to say. The fever is messing with his thoughts. Gently, Even moves from his seated position to lying down next to his shivering boyfriend. Immediately, he buries his head in Even’s chest, clinging to the warmth. “How what?” More silence, and Even thinks maybe he’s fallen asleep. “How to be sick. I’m not good. I’ve never...had you.” He heaves a shuddering sigh, pressing himself closer to Even. “I don’t know.” Even’s not sure how to respond. Sure, he’s upset that Isak was so stubborn and got himself so sick, but on the other hand, he can’t really blame him. It is true that Even’s been busy lately, both mentally and physically, and Isak was very careful to keep from making things worse. He wants to excuse himself and blame all of the other people in Isak’s life, but he knows he simply can’t. “It’s ok. Everything’s going to be ok.” He feels Isak nod against his chest, and moves his hand to the side of Isak’s face, tracing slow circles on his too-warm skin. --Monday morning, it takes almost 15 minutes to convince Isak he should stay in bed. In the end they make a bet - if his fever is lower than 101, which Isak swears it is, then Even will let him go. In the end, of course, it is once more confirmed that Isak is “really fucked up” (in the words of Eskild). Even spends the day at school (“the fucking 10%”--again, the words of Eskild) worrying about Isak. He calls during lunch, and he’s incredibly relieved when he hears his boyfriend pick up, even though his voice sounds somehow even worse than it did the day before. Even does most of the talking, trying to fill the silence with what - he hopes - is the comforting sound of his voice. When the bell rings it takes just about all of Even’s self control to hang up, but he does, not without reminding Isak to keep drinking water and a shouted hello from Magnus. He texts Isak through his last class, mostly to no response, but it’s calming his own nerves and a part of him hopes that when Isak wakes up he’ll read the thread and smile. He’s on his way out the door when he hears Vilde’s voice from behind him.

“Even! Hey!” Reluctantly, he spins around to face her. “Hey.” “I was hoping you could give this to Isak-” She hands him a brown paper bag, on the outside is scrawled get well soon, in metallic sharpie. “It’s from Eva and Me and Jonas and everyone.” “What, uh-” She cuts him off. “Oh! It’s cookies. And tea. And socks! We just thought since he’s sick and everything, he should get something sweet. And warm.” Vilde giggles, “Not that you’re not doing that for him. Because I’m sure you are. With kisses.” Even desperately wants to exit the conversation, but Vilde has a firm grip on his forearm. He opens his mouth to make an excuse to leave, but she keeps talking. “Do you know what’s wrong? With Isak?” “Gonorrhea. Now, I gotta go. I’ll see you later.” She lets go, and he breathes an internal sigh of relief. “And uh, thanks. For this. I’m sure he’ll like it.” He’s halfway out the door when she speaks again. “Not as much as he likes you!” He hears her blow a kiss. --When he relays the story to Isak, even in his half asleep state, he reaches for his phone to thank Vilde, and, Even assumes, to tell her that he does not in fact have gonnorhea. “I don’t know how she’s head of Kose and these are still so shitty.” Even says, holding a halfeaten cookie. “Not hers?” hedges Isak. “Sana’s? Jonas’s?” Even shakes his head. “Any self respecting group leader wouldn’t have delegated such an important task.” Isak cracks a smile, his bleary eyes now focused on Even. He continues. “I have to wonder about the credentials required to become the head of one of these establishments. Is there no screening process? No interview? You know, she said they’d all be coming over.” Isak pales. “I’m kidding. No. I’d be dragging you to my place if they were coming here.” He takes another bite. “These cookies are garbage.” he knows that nothing he’s saying makes much sense, but Isak is still giving him a dopey half-smile, so it’s worth it. “They’re not so bad.” Isak murmurs, less to make a point and more to keep Even talking. “They’re almost as bad as my mom’s. You know why? These cookies are lacking something vital. Do you know what it is?” Isak shakes his head. “Cardamom.” Isak smiles, but doesn’t reply, just keeps staring at Even expectantly. “Do you want to try on the socks? They say ‘HALLOWEEN!’ and have pumpkins on them. Very festive. Very in season.” “It’s February.” “Exactly.” Isak’s smile widens, “Doesn’t,” He clears his throat, “Make sense.” “Since when does anything make sense?” Isak coughs. “You. Me. We. Us.” Even grabs one of the tea bags, curling the string around his finger idly. Once the conversation dies out he’s going to go and boil some water. Despite his urging, he

knows that Isak hasn’t had much water, and tea will at least be some kind of fluid. “We make sense?” Isak nods, and Even kisses his hot forehead. “Did you eat today?” Isak shakes his head. “I can’t leave you alone for one second, elskede.” “You can.” Isak swallows hard. “Shouldn’t.” “I won’t.”

End Notes

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