“And what do you think you’re doing?” It was about as effective as talking to a jailhouse dog. Beckett was not only tired, he was feverish and too beyond himself to consider being afraid, let alone obedient.
Jack was of the mind to stick him on the floor regardless, and just stuff more blankets around him so he could sweat out the fever without being troublesome about it. Still, considering the man’s constitution that was as like to kill him off as not, and far be it from he to kill a man through something so impersonal as negligence. He supposed it served him right for ignoring the signs of symptoms up until now, anyway.
Huffing irately, Jack stepped over and grabbed the smaller man, lifting him up and tossing him over one shoulder like a sack of grain. Tearing all his own blankets off the bed, he unceremoniously dropped the man back onto it, before stomping off to shove his bedding onto the chair behind his desk. That done, he grabbed the pillows off the floor and started chucking them with a vague sense of amusement and malice at the tired man, considering it a right treat each time there was a satisfactory plap to Beckett’s face.
That done, he picked up the blankets and drew them over, tossing them across the small fellow and tucking him in so tightly it would be a wonder if he could move. “I’ll check on you later,” He grumped, turning with every intention of transforming his desk into a bed for the night.
Ocean Archive 