Harry Amando Matheson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
amareladanza) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dreamlikenewyork2015-12-11 11:30 pm
amareladanza) wrote in dreamlikenewyork2015-12-11 11:30 pm
"You know I'm a man, I'll do what I can."
Who: Harry and Nick Matheson
What: Little brother duties
Where: Nick and Harry's apartment
When: Late Thursday evening
Harry was in a bit of a shitty mood when Logan dropped him off after his rehearsal session that started directly after school. Logan was working extra hours and going out of his way to help Harry prepare his Joffrey audition. But being the end of the week and absolutely working his ass off to learn that new routine, Harry was tired and grumpy. He was feeling gross from sweating so much in the session. He wanted to take a bath and go to bed so he could get up early the next morning and do the whole thing all over again. Up at 5am for yoga, a crazy healthy breakfast full of superfoods, school, dance training and home again.
Despite his bad mood, he did thank Logan again for the help. He was going to feel seriously bad if this audition didn't achieve anything. Of course, staying up late the night before to keep watching that You Tube video over and over again to try to memorise at least the foundation of the routine wouldn't have helped. He had been a bit of a zombie that morning, nearly falling asleep halfway through the Downward Facing Dog. That wouldn't have been a good look, to show up to his new school with a bruise in the middle of his forehead when he faceplanted his yoga mat.
He unlocked the apartment door with the keys Nick had gotten cut for him and dumped his dance bag just inside the door... typical teenage behaviour. His shoes were kicked off beside them and left there messily still tied up. "Nicky, I'm home! I'm gonna take a bath!" he called out as he shuffled up the long hall with a yawn. By the time he reached his room, Nick hadn't answered and he paused in the door way. "Nicky?" he called again.
Still no answer. He was sure Nick said he would be home. He had some commissioned paintings he was working on and he wasn't on call that week for his other job. Instead of going onto his room, he walked through to the main area of the apartment to find his brother. The TV was off and just a lamp on in this living room, so Nick wasn't there. He wasn't in the kitchen either. Continuing to staircase that lead down into the floor where Nick's new art studio was, Harry leaned over the railing. "Nick? Where are you?"
When there was no response, Harry went down the stairs and his stomach was doing a little flip-flop of worry by this point. Of course he was going to panic if Nick wasn't answering him. He hadn't been living there long, but long enough for him and Nick to get a routine down together. Nick was there when he got home and they would sit and chill together for a little while. As soon as he got down the stairs, he saw exactly why Nick hadn't been responding. On the floor, at the base of his easel, Nick was lying sprawled on his side, unmoving.
"Nicky!" Harry shrieked and ran over to him. He didn't shake him. He only needed to take one look at him to know what was going on. At least, what he hoped was going on because he knew how to deal with this. He checked for a pulse anyway, which was still there. Nick was breathing, but not normally. It was a little shallow and slow. He was white and sweating. Harry scrambled up off the floor and ran back up the stairs to the kitchen and ripped open the large medical box mounted on the wall by the phone. He snatched up the two Glucagon kits and ran back downstairs with them.
Despite knowing what to do, his hands were trembling. He didn't know how long Nick had been here. He got the pen out of the case and quickly prepared it with a careful shake. "It's okay, Nicky... shit, I hope I don't bruise you this time," he said in a panic and quickly injected Nick's thigh with it. He withdrew it and pressed a cotton bud over the puncture wound, pressing on it. He was already dialling 911 in his cell phone and putting in the emergency call. "H-Hi, my name's Harry Matheson. My big brother, Nick, he's diabetic and he's unconscious. I need help. I just gave him a Glucagon injection..." The operator was great, getting his address quickly and assuring him they would dispatch a truck there straight away.
Harry stayed knelt next to Nick on the floor, rubbing his arm. He set the timer on his phone, knowing if the paramedics weren't here in five minutes (unlikely in New York City), he had to give the second injection. His heart was up in his throat, and he kept checking to make sure Nick was still breathing or coming-to. It felt like one of the longest five minutes in his life. Thoughts of a bath and bed were long gone. Without even meaning to, he started to cry because he was terrified doing this on his own without family literally a stone's throw away to come running to his aid.
"I-It's okay, Nicky. It's okay..." he said tearfully, his vision blurring up with the tears where he was watching the timer count down the five minutes. Though, no matter how much he tried to stay strong here, he knew whenever Nick got sick, it could be serious. He really hoped his words would ring true this time. He didn't know how to do any of this without his mom, dad and big sisters there to help him.
COMPLETE
What: Little brother duties
Where: Nick and Harry's apartment
When: Late Thursday evening
Harry was in a bit of a shitty mood when Logan dropped him off after his rehearsal session that started directly after school. Logan was working extra hours and going out of his way to help Harry prepare his Joffrey audition. But being the end of the week and absolutely working his ass off to learn that new routine, Harry was tired and grumpy. He was feeling gross from sweating so much in the session. He wanted to take a bath and go to bed so he could get up early the next morning and do the whole thing all over again. Up at 5am for yoga, a crazy healthy breakfast full of superfoods, school, dance training and home again.
Despite his bad mood, he did thank Logan again for the help. He was going to feel seriously bad if this audition didn't achieve anything. Of course, staying up late the night before to keep watching that You Tube video over and over again to try to memorise at least the foundation of the routine wouldn't have helped. He had been a bit of a zombie that morning, nearly falling asleep halfway through the Downward Facing Dog. That wouldn't have been a good look, to show up to his new school with a bruise in the middle of his forehead when he faceplanted his yoga mat.
He unlocked the apartment door with the keys Nick had gotten cut for him and dumped his dance bag just inside the door... typical teenage behaviour. His shoes were kicked off beside them and left there messily still tied up. "Nicky, I'm home! I'm gonna take a bath!" he called out as he shuffled up the long hall with a yawn. By the time he reached his room, Nick hadn't answered and he paused in the door way. "Nicky?" he called again.
Still no answer. He was sure Nick said he would be home. He had some commissioned paintings he was working on and he wasn't on call that week for his other job. Instead of going onto his room, he walked through to the main area of the apartment to find his brother. The TV was off and just a lamp on in this living room, so Nick wasn't there. He wasn't in the kitchen either. Continuing to staircase that lead down into the floor where Nick's new art studio was, Harry leaned over the railing. "Nick? Where are you?"
When there was no response, Harry went down the stairs and his stomach was doing a little flip-flop of worry by this point. Of course he was going to panic if Nick wasn't answering him. He hadn't been living there long, but long enough for him and Nick to get a routine down together. Nick was there when he got home and they would sit and chill together for a little while. As soon as he got down the stairs, he saw exactly why Nick hadn't been responding. On the floor, at the base of his easel, Nick was lying sprawled on his side, unmoving.
"Nicky!" Harry shrieked and ran over to him. He didn't shake him. He only needed to take one look at him to know what was going on. At least, what he hoped was going on because he knew how to deal with this. He checked for a pulse anyway, which was still there. Nick was breathing, but not normally. It was a little shallow and slow. He was white and sweating. Harry scrambled up off the floor and ran back up the stairs to the kitchen and ripped open the large medical box mounted on the wall by the phone. He snatched up the two Glucagon kits and ran back downstairs with them.
Despite knowing what to do, his hands were trembling. He didn't know how long Nick had been here. He got the pen out of the case and quickly prepared it with a careful shake. "It's okay, Nicky... shit, I hope I don't bruise you this time," he said in a panic and quickly injected Nick's thigh with it. He withdrew it and pressed a cotton bud over the puncture wound, pressing on it. He was already dialling 911 in his cell phone and putting in the emergency call. "H-Hi, my name's Harry Matheson. My big brother, Nick, he's diabetic and he's unconscious. I need help. I just gave him a Glucagon injection..." The operator was great, getting his address quickly and assuring him they would dispatch a truck there straight away.
Harry stayed knelt next to Nick on the floor, rubbing his arm. He set the timer on his phone, knowing if the paramedics weren't here in five minutes (unlikely in New York City), he had to give the second injection. His heart was up in his throat, and he kept checking to make sure Nick was still breathing or coming-to. It felt like one of the longest five minutes in his life. Thoughts of a bath and bed were long gone. Without even meaning to, he started to cry because he was terrified doing this on his own without family literally a stone's throw away to come running to his aid.
"I-It's okay, Nicky. It's okay..." he said tearfully, his vision blurring up with the tears where he was watching the timer count down the five minutes. Though, no matter how much he tried to stay strong here, he knew whenever Nick got sick, it could be serious. He really hoped his words would ring true this time. He didn't know how to do any of this without his mom, dad and big sisters there to help him.
COMPLETE