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accidentally-in-fictional-love · 8 days

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For the emoji ask! absolutely LOVE your writing

🎲-dealer's choice +🩹 and ✏️ - maybe 🎲 comes down with a bad cold/flu and, with no real idea how or desire to take care of themselves, needs someone to remind them that they're worth taking care of?

We All Fall Down - Bob Taylor/Reader

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader, no use of Y/N, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, Bob needs a lot of help.

Wordcount: 6356

Summary: You knew everything about your neighbour, or so you thought, apart from his name, but when you end up the only one willing to help him when he falls under the weather, you might just get your chance to finally learn it.

Notes: My first Bob reader! This request was actually perfect because I'd been wanting to write this exact scenario for him for months, so this was the perfect excuse to bump up this idea from my personal list to my queue ;w; so thanks! As much as I'd love to just take care of him forever, I get the feeling that he wouldn't be too okay with getting help while he's got a bad fever, so get ready for the hurt before he gets any comfort and I hope you enjoy QwQ 💗💗💗

Summer was giving way to fall outside of your windows, the leaves already starting to change now that September was underway. You loved this time of the year, there was something special about autumn that always made you so content while you curled up on the porch with hot cocoa in your favourite sweater. It was the season of comfort, and you really wished you didn't have to go to work today as you shot your alarm a glance and groaned. You got up fast, the fresh air blowing through your windows urging you to get up and come feel the cooling breeze after such a rough summer all the way, and you didn't stop until you got to your car and saw your estranged neighbour picking up his daily newspaper from the end of the driveway.

You waved to him as you always did but he didn't return it, his eyes on the ground as he grabbed his paper and headed back inside, and you noticed that he was looking a little rough before the door shut, it opened just enough to allow him entrance yet again. You shrugged and headed for work, your window down and music blaring the whole way there as you breathed in deep. You picked up a morning coffee and sipped at it until you parked, people already waiting to get inside the shopping center like a pack of rabid wolves. You didn't envy the cashiers on mornings like this, your cushy job just stocking shelves allowing you to easily avoid customers' wrath so long as you had more aisles to escape to.

Today was going to be one of those days again, and you took your sweet time casually unloading your boxes as you traveled back and forth between the storage area and the shelves that were already getting swamped with early fall hunters. They ate up everything that was orange and leafy, the Halloween stuff wouldn't be out for another couple weeks still, so this was their time to get in everything else before that battle began. You caught the eye of your co-worker when two old ladies fought over the cutest wreath in the crafts section, and you both chuckled as you let them be and kept on working.

You were in the kids section redressing the mannequins in sweaters and jeans instead of t-shirts and shorts when you saw him again, and something about him made you pause a little as he perused. He didn't have children, you knew he didn't after being neighbours with him for so many years, but he still hung around the mannequins you'd already dressed with an expression like a father who'd lost his child. You didn't bother him, letting him stare until someone else approached and he anxiously looked over to them and left, and the next time you saw him he was looking amongst the toys until he found a rather cute teddy bear and picked it up.

Again you didn't bother him, waiting to see if maybe he was getting it for someone or himself, but when a young kid sprinted past him he came back to life and watched him go, his eyes then landing on you. He put the bear back and quickly walked away, and you almost followed him when a younger co-worker walked up to you and made a show of shivering.

‘He's creepy, isn't he?’ she asked even though he might still be within earshot, and you quickly spun to get her to quiet her voice a little. ‘No, really, all he does is look at the kids' stuff and sometimes buy kid clothes, but I've never seen him come in with anyone, isn't that weird?’

‘Maybe he has nephews,’ you dismissed, not wanting to reveal that not only was she right in that he lived alone but that he was also your neighbour; that would get around fast, then they'd be pressing you for information like crazy, and you didn't want that for either of you. ‘Anyway, aren't you supposed to be on register this morning?’

‘Oh yeah, I closed real quick to tell you we need you, it's so busy they're opening up the extras so I'm finding everyone I can to bring to the front until it calms down.’

So much for your cushy shelving job.

You nearly jogged to your station of choice when you saw the lines already stretching out further than they should, the usual call of, ‘I can take whoever's next!’ earning you your own line in seconds flat. You plastered your biggest smile on before starting to ring them up, and by the time the lines thinned again you were sore and so sick of the colour orange. You closed your eyes and cracked your back the moment you got a break when you heard a small noise to your right, and you quickly apologized when you saw that it was him again; he'd found something he wanted, some clothes again just like she'd said, but you didn't say anything about it as you flashed him a more genuine smile and got his total.

‘I take it you didn't want the bear?’ you asked pleasantly, but he was so far away from you mentally that he barely registered your voice with a small, ‘Huh?’ ‘The bear, from earlier, I saw you checking it out, didn't want it in the end?’

‘No, no, sorry I-’ He cut himself off to cough a moment, his eyes scrunched tight as he held his fist in front of his closed mouth so he wouldn't cough all over your station. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight when you remembered that he hadn't looked too good that morning, and now that you were face to face you could definitely see that he was paler than usual; there was a light beading of sweat on his forehead that only worsened with his coughing, the bags under his eyes were pronounced, and the flush on his cheeks wasn't from the social interaction, it was something else as the cough subsided and he hazily looked up at you. ‘Sorry, I'll just pay and… how much…?’

He could barely form a sentence he was so sick, and the clothes remained waiting at the end of your station as his legs then gave out and he crumbled to the floor. Everything stopped as heads turned and whispers filled the air, and you sprinted around to him to make sure he was okay and that he hadn't hit his head on the counter behind him. He hadn't, but he'd banged up his knee pretty good on the way down, and his ankle was twisted uncomfortably underneath him, but he didn't notice either as he started coughing again until he couldn't breathe. ‘Should we call an ambulance?’ someone above you asked, and you shook your head and took his temperature.

‘I'll bring him, I know where he lives for after,’ you said without a care, they could ask you all the questions you want later, right now he needed someone to actually give a damn about him. ‘Hey, go grab me some cold medicine from the pharmacy real quick, I'll pay for it later, and that blue bear from the kids aside,’ you told your nearest co-worker as your supervisor showed up, yourself and a kindly patron with long blonde hair and a friendly smile helping to get him on his feet so he could be taken to his car, you already knew it down to the plate number and you didn't want to leave it here while he was home.

‘What's happening?’ your supervisor asked the moment your neighbour was standing, and it was then it hit you that you knew where he lived, what his car looked like, what his plate numbers were, and his usual habits, but you'd never even learned his name.

‘This man is sick, I'd like to take him to the doctor's, get him checked out, I'll work extra shifts this weekend to make up for it,’ you pleaded, and he looked between all the waiting faces before sighing and getting out of your way, he wouldn't make a scene over you helping a sick man, that'd be bad for business.

‘Fine, be here all the earlier on Saturday if you don't catch what he's got, could we get someone to sanitize this station so this register can be opened back up?’ he called into the crowd, and you and the other man helped carry him all the way to his car while your co-worker rang up everything and followed after you. You quickly located his car and stole his keys so he wouldn't have to walk so far, your neighbour not even noticing when you reached into his coat pocket to find them.

He leaned against the patron up until you drove up, and he was carefully sat into the front seat beside you with his things set into the back, a wave given to the man and a whisper for your co-worker to make sure you picked up whatever he got as thanks. She nodded and rushed back in and then you were off, your neighbour slowly coming back to lucidity when he saw he was moving.

‘Where are we going?’ he mumbled softly, and you just barely told him you were heading for the hospital when he started to panic. ‘No, no- I wanna go home, please take me home-!’ he pleaded desperately, his hands weakly pawing at the car door even though you were still moving.

‘Okay! Okay, I'll take you home, please just sit still, we're almost there,’ you relented immediately at his panic, but he didn't calm until he saw that you were telling the truth. He was a wreck by the time you pulled into his driveway, his hands on the door again and forcing you to stop early when it flung open before you could even reach the end. He stumbled all the way to his front door, his hands in his pockets and searching for his keys until his panic grew again.

You ran up behind him with them in hand, and he flinched when he heard you coming like he expected you to hurt him, which only made you feel worse as you handed them over and allowed him to search for the right one; he looked even sicker from the mental strain, and you gave him a moment to calm down and unlock his door while you grabbed the bag from the car. You did, and he did, but the moment you started to walk back to him he slammed the door in your face, just a glimpse of his returning panic showing on his own.

‘Hey, please open up, I just wanna make sure you're gunna be okay,’ you said to the wood, but the sound of the lock turning was his reply to that.

‘What's in that bag?’ he demanded with another cough, already forgetting that he'd been right there when you'd asked for everything inside.

‘Just some cold medicine,’ you told him but he didn't believe it, his cough getting worse.

‘No, there's too much inside for just that, what else is in there?’ He needed to know, this was really freaking him out for some reason, and you looked at the bag before telling him to go to his kitchen window. You met him there, and he pushed aside the curtains to make sure you weren't lying as you took out the medicine, still sealed, then the clothes he'd left behind, and you were just about to show him the bear when his eyes fluttered shut and he fell again. You heard the loud crash of him knocking whatever was on his counter to the floor with him, and you ran back to the door and tried desperately to open it.

‘Hey! Are you okay? I can help, please just let me help!’ you called to him through the wood, and you pressed your ear against it tight for any sign of movement until the slow sound of the click reached you again. You instantly turned the handle and carefully opened the door up, your neighbour slouched against the wall and breathing heavily in his fever. ‘I need to get you to the hospital, you could really be sick,’ you told him as you brushed aside his bangs and felt his forehead, but he just shook his head and moaned sickly.

‘No, please, don't make me go… I'll be good… I can finish them…’ You could barely make out what he said, but once you replayed it over in your head you felt your chest ache, and it was then you finally looked up and saw the state of his home; the walls were absolutely covered in hand drawn mazes, one big sprawling beast that looked more like a spreading infection than a decoration. The stuff he'd knocked over had been a stack of dirty plates with food still on them, he hadn't been eating much lately because of this cold, and every single window was closed and only making the air stuffier around him.

‘I won't, but tell me where your room is, I'll make you some soup or something while I'm here,’ you offered, but he managed another head shake before his vertigo worsened and he looked ready to vomit.

‘Don't, no more, I can do it…’

There was no use talking to him like this, he was too sick to even register who you were right now, so you left him a moment to look around. Most of his doors led to the wrong rooms, the bathroom, a closet, a second bigger closet, an empty room, and the final led to a locked door. You were about to ask if that was it but he couldn't hear you, his eyes shut tight while he coughed and moaned and rubbed his throat and arm, he must've banged it up as well when he fell.

You didn't know what to do, he needed proper bed rest and there was no way you'd be able to get him into your house when he was that eager to get home, so you shot him a glance before running across the yard and grabbing a few things. You returned with the sleeping bag you bought for camping but never really used, as well as all three of your couch cushions so he wouldn't be sleeping on the floor, since he only had an armchair of his own in his empty living room.

For someone who always looked so put together it was surprising how he lived this way, but you again didn't say anything as you made up his bed and ran home again for some supplies. This time you returned with a few spare pillows, some bottled water to keep nearby, and every single can of chicken noodle soup you had left in your cupboards, something he definitely wouldn't have based on the discarded TV dinner trays in his open trash in the kitchen.

When his makeshift bed was made, you crawled your way back over to him, making sure to be careful not to startle him as he just laid there, breathing. You still didn't know his name, but you really wished you did as you approached, your hands a safe distance away as you whispered to get his attention.

‘Hey, come this way, okay? I just want you to lay down,’ you said gently, and when his eyes opened again it was like he was looking right through you. ‘You need to rest, I'll stay with you until your fever comes down, so please work with me here…’ When he didn't object you attempted to slip his arm around your shoulder, your own going behind his back, and he whimpered the entire way to the cushions; you couldn't wrap your head around it, he'd always been timid, but he never failed to flash you a smile and a wave when he got his mail, although now you were starting to realize how forced it might've been. He wasn't put together at all, he was hanging by a thread in here, all of it was a facade and it only broke because he'd gotten so sick and had no one to look out for him.

He didn't understand what his bed was supposed to be at first, but as soon as he felt it was soft he laid down, three cushions clearly not enough as his feet hung over the small edge and rested on the floor. You frowned and grabbed his chair cushion, noting the stack of unopened mail next to the ashtray full of old cigarette butts without a word, and brought it over to him, his shoes gently removed so he wouldn't get dirt on either it or your sleeping bag. His socks were a rich red, quite the contrast to everything else being so beige and brown, and when his feet were all tucked in you moved on to his coat.

He wouldn't need it, but he fought you the entire time you tried to get it off of him, like he was afraid of what would happen if he lost it, and you shushed him and brushed his hair out of his eyes until he was calm, his arms easily sliding through the sleeves when he realized in his haze that you weren't going to hurt him and that he was much too hot. You tossed it out of the way, his head set down on your comfiest pillow when you were done, and he sank into it like he'd forgotten what a pillow felt like. That didn't bode well for you, and you shot the locked room another glance as you got up and went to clean up the mess he'd made now that he was comfortable.

You worked fast, he didn't seem to have ants waiting at the ready but you still didn't want to dawdle and give him one more thing to worry about just in case you missed something, and while you were at it you filled up the sink and got ready to do the dishes, just to help him out.

When that was done you went back to your original task of giving him some cold medicine and getting him on the right track to being healthy again, or, as healthy as he could be due to the lack of proper food he seemed to eat, and you made a mental note to see what he was running short on seeing as he wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. You cracked open the seal on the cap, thankful that your co-worker had grabbed a bottle and not the capsules, he wasn't in a good enough state for any pills, and you filled it up to the line and prepared some water to wash it down as you positioned yourself next to his head.

‘Head, drink this, you'll start to feel better in no time,’ you told him, and he cracked open an eye, looked at the strange coloured liquid in the small, plastic cup, and fully freaked out.

‘No!’ he practically shrieked, swatting it from your hand and spilling it all over you, staining your work shirt purple and making you flinch as the medicinal smell filled your nostrils almost aggressively. He flopped off of the cushions and bumped into his coffee table, completely tangled up in the sleeping bag as he looked around and attempted to figure out where he was, but he was home, and you were just trying to help him, how was his fever so bad that he couldn't get that?’

‘Please, you're getting too worked up, you'll make your fever worse,’ you pleaded with him, the stains ignored in favour of getting this man back onto his cushions. ‘What do you want me to do to prove to you that I'm doing this for you?’

‘Drink it!’ he implored you, pointing to the knocked over and thankfully capped medicine bottle. ‘Show- show me it's okay!’

You weren't sick, but being this close to him might end up making you you were pretty sure, so you decided to humour whatever he asked as long as it got him taking this medicine, laying down, and hopefully having something to eat today. ‘Okay, here I go, it's okay,’ you said slowly as you poured just enough to show him, you didn't want to take a full dose, and you held it up and swirled it around to prove that it was there before grimacing and throwing your head back.

It'd been a long time since you took any cold meds this way, the liquid caps were so much easier, and you felt like a kid again as you scrunched up your face and grabbed the water you were planning on giving him. You rinsed out your mouth before showing him it was gone, it was safe, and he looked between it and you before deciding that you were telling the truth.

‘Okay,’ he repeated before sniffling, you should really grab him a box of tissues as well soon, and he climbed back onto the cushions and waited for you to pour him some more. He was almost like a child, and you chalked it down to the fever exaggerating his apparent paranoia as you poured again, held it out for him to take, and let him swallow it himself. He mirrored your earlier expression before you handed him some water, and instantly having the liquid seemed to help as he downed more than half the bottle and handed it back to you. You took it and helped him lie back down, and his stomach grumbled the moment he was tucked in again.

‘When's the last time you ate?’ you added him, but he was already starting to fall asleep, all the exertion from his panicking knocking him right out. You went back to the kitchen and did a quick scope of the area, a lot of his food ready-made or instant just as you predicted, and most of everything that wasn't frozen past their due dates. You grabbed the bag you'd used for the mess and started to clear out all the expired food, the bag eventually growing too heavy and needing to be thrown out and replaced before it was even full. You hauled it to the curb and grabbed a new one when you returned, and he hadn't moved an inch as he panted and sweated through the fever.

You took a break to sit with him, a cup full of water next to you as you wet the washcloth you'd found in his sink drawer and dabbed at his forehead with it until he looked a little less pained in his sleep. His face softened and he stopped fidgeting as much as he was cooled, and you saw that he was actually quite handsome when he wasn't panicking. He still whimpered in his sleep like something was troubling him even then, and when you were done cooling him you cracked open the kitchen window and did the dishes as quietly as possible.

It was strange, being here and cleaning instead of being at work, but you knew you couldn't leave him after all that, and you didn't want to set him off again by sending over a stranger to do this in your place when he'd reacted badly enough to you. When everything in the kitchen was cleaned you gave him a glance, made sure he was still sleeping, and moved onto his bathroom, because you knew if you stopped there then things would go back to stagnating, unfortunately. It was small, a quick clean, but it was clear he wasn't a big fan of chemicals when you found only towels and toilet paper in the ensuite closet.

You ducked back home again to grab your own, gave the place the deepest clean it'd probably ever had, and let it also air out as you shut the door and kept the sterile smell away from the rest of the house. You couldn't help it, but since you'd started you couldn't stop, and you found yourself tidying his two closets as well, since they were sparsely filled and mostly just needed a bit of organization. You sat on the floor and refolded everything in the smaller one with the shelves, sorting all the knick knacks and containers while you were at it so things would be easier to find and grab, and you took another break to cool him down and make sure he was okay before tackling the bigger closet.

You moved all his coats to either end of the space based on the season, you felt he might appreciate the separation, a little order in his life to make things easier without needing to rifle through the entire bunch when he had this much available space. You did the same to his shoes, although that took less time seeing as he only had two more pairs, and the one looked like he hadn't even worn them yet, like he was saving them until his current pair finally wore down.

When you were satisfied you checked out the spare room again, making sure there really was nothing in it, and when you confirmed that yes, he just wasn't using this room outside of drawing on the walls, you let your curiosity lead you back to the only door that wouldn't allow you entrance. It was stranger still to have his bedroom locked when he wasn't in it, and you were about to see if you could find the key out of sheer curiosity when you heard him make a sound from around the corner. You immediately returned to him, he was awake and looking around again like he didn't know where he was, and there was a moment of returning panic on his face when he saw you appear and approach him in his own home.

‘It's just me, how're you feeling?’ You let him get reaccustomed to your presence as you sat back down, giving him as much time as he needed as he checked out the bed you'd made for him in slight confusion.

‘B-better,’ he rasped, clearly still sick, but now lucid enough to see that you weren't a danger to him, although he did linger on the dried and slightly sticky purple stain on your otherwise clean shirt, ‘what're you doing here?’

‘You collapsed at the store where I work so I brought you home, you know you had a bad fever earlier, right?’ you asked, and he felt his forehead with an equally sweaty hand. ‘Here, you're still too warm.’ You gently pushed his hand aside and felt him yourself, definitely still warm, but less so, and you wet the washcloth and attempted to dab at his forehead again before he pulled away.

‘Why are you doing this for me?’ He said it so softly you almost missed it, his eyes not even looking at you as he leaned away from the dripping cloth.

‘I wasn't going to just leave you here,’ you answered honestly, but it didn't make him feel better and you could see it on his face as he gripped the sleeping bag under his pale hands.

‘You didn't have to, I can take care of myself, y’know, I've been sick before, I've survived worse,’ he muttered, and it didn't sound like a joke in the slightest, his tone concerning you mixed in with what he'd said earlier.

‘So, I should've brought you home and just… what, gone back to work?’ you confirmed with a frown, and he nodded in reply, like that was what he genuinely wanted. ‘You say you can take care of yourself, but you could barely stand, you weren't cleaning up, I wasn't even sure if you were eating or drinking, how could I leave… Bob, if you won't take care of yourself, then who will?’

He looked up at you, meeting your eye in surprise at the mention of his name. ‘How did you-?’

‘Your mail, I saw it on the front of the top envelope, but I didn't open any, don't worry,’ you quickly explained, and he glanced at said mail before turning back to you.

‘I can take care of myself, I always have,’ he mumbled almost to himself as he drew his legs up to his chest, and again he drew your attention to his arm when he rubbed at it.

‘That doesn't mean you have to, though, not on your own,’ you tried, and when he didn't move you shifted a little closer to him and dabbed at his forehead again when you saw how red his face was getting. He didn't flinch away this time, actually leaning into your touch as you cooled him, and when the water ran down his face just a little he closed his eyes and looked more relaxed than he had all day. ‘I know we haven't really talked much, or at all, really, but we've been neighbours for a while now, and… I hope this doesn't sound rude but I haven't seen anyone else around here, do you… do you have anyone you could call in case your fever comes back? You really shouldn't have to do this on your own.’

‘I'll be fine.’ He went to get to his feet without looking at you, and you hoped you hadn't offended him before he staggered on the cushions and nearly toppled over again, he really shouldn't be standing. You hurried up to support him but he didn't want it, now determined to make you leave now that you'd not only called him out on his loneliness, but also seen the state of his place no doubt; no one else had gotten this close and he couldn't have you be the first, and you didn't know whether to leave him or insist on staying as he walked to the door and opened it. ‘Thank you for your help, but I can handle it from here, you should just- go back to work or something.’

‘Wait, at least let me do this,’ you insisted as you headed over to the now clean counter, and you saw the way his eyes looked over everything you'd cleaned when you took out one of the cans of soup you'd brought over. ‘I have a trick for this, now that you're awake I'd like to teach it to you.’ He hesitantly looked you over, his eyes shifting between what you'd done and what you were about to do, and he thought it over before shutting the door again. He nodded and joined you by the counter, and you quickly opened the can before going to his freezer. ‘I know it's not from scratch, but it can really make a plain can of soup that much better,’ you began as you grabbed the few things that had survived his cold, a bag of frozen veggies and some celery added to the counter along with a big pot. ‘I tend to just use the carrots, but I think you could use a little extra, if you don't mind me saying.’

He didn't speak, just watched you work with the odd cough and sniffle as you dumped one can, quickly joined by a second, into a pot along with the veggies and celery after you'd chopped up the still fresh sections. He didn't have much in the way of cooking, clearly he didn't do it outside of his usual meals, and you waited until the pot began to boil before giving in and rushing home.

He watched the stove for you while you grabbed what you were missing, and when you returned you found him leaning over the pot and breathing in the lovely smells. You quickly diced the onion and added in the parsley, dill, and lemon, and you had no idea how well it was going to work with the peas and green beans but if he liked it then you'd consider this a success.

You waited until it was all cooked, a quick sip followed by a bigger bite of everything making you moan in hunger, you'd worked up quite the appetite while you'd been cleaning you realized, and he looked less ready to throw you out as you set it to a simmer and grabbed a bowl. Crackers were one of the few things he still had, and you pulled out a sleeve for him after presenting him with the steaming soup, Bob licking his lips and looking ready to cry even though it was such a simple recipe. ‘See, nothing beats homemade, but I can at least spice this up for you, you aren't allergic to any of that, are you? I should've asked first, I'm sorry-’

‘I'm not, but thank you, for asking, I mean,’ he said softly as he lifted the spoon, and he blew on it a couple times before taking his first bite; some colour came back to him as the tastes penetrated his cold and allowed him the simple joy of good, hot soup while sick, and he ignored the crackers completely as he sat on his cushionless chair and scarfed it all down. It was still too hot, and he kept burning his tongue when he didn't want to wait at first, but the bowl was empty before he knew it, and life looked good on him as he looked back over to the stove. ‘Uh…’

You didn't let him ask, gladly refilling his bowl for him as well as bringing him some water, and you weren't sure if it was because you'd opened the window earlier but it certainly felt lighter in there as he dug in again. You smiled at him, seeing him like this was much nicer than whatever was troubling him before, and you considered him okay enough to leave just like he wanted as you gathered your coat and keys.

‘You're leaving?’ You froze mid-step on the way to the door, Bob staring at the floor when you turned back to him. ‘I mean, you aren't gunna have any?’ You hadn't planned on it, you'd made it all for him, but you felt you couldn't resist as you set your things back down and grabbed a second bowl from the cupboard. You didn't fill it as much as his, you still wanted him to have most of it, and you made sure to save him all the good stuff before pulling up a cushion and sitting opposite him on the floor. ‘...It's been a while since I had anything like this, not since I left home,’ he confessed to you as you ate, but you didn't pry, you knew he had more secrets than what you'd seen so far. ‘It's nice, the food and… and getting to eat with someone, I didn't think I'd be able to have something like this again, after…’

Your curiosity was killing you, but you quelled it by reaching across the table and placing your hand over his, not taking it, not making him feel trapped, but just showing him that you were there.

‘Well, anytime you wanna have it again, or any other meal, or even just someone to sit with you when you're sick again, you can always call me, I'm right next door,’ you promised him, and the look of hope on his face was both relieved and tragic at the same time over something so small.

‘Does that include today, or do you still have to go to work?’ he asked, and when you smiled at him he flipped his hand to hold yours for that extra bit of comfort.

‘I already told my boss I'd work Saturday for this, I've got nothing else going on today,’ you admitted since there was a very good chance he didn't even remember going to the store with how out of it he was. ‘Oh, that reminds me-’ You grabbed the bag you'd moved to the counter when you cleaned, and he watched you go in a relaxed silence until he saw you pull out what you'd brought him. ‘You nearly left these at the checkout so I wanted to make sure- what's wrong?’

‘Can you forg- it's nothing, thank you, I'll pay you back,’ he said dismissively, nervously, his eyes anywhere but on you or perhaps the items as you frowned and set them down.

‘It's fine, don't worry about it,’ you replied as you went to join him again, but something had changed, and he now seemed aware that you were in his house, that you were surrounded by the mazes he'd drawn all over the walls. ‘Hey, I may not know what's going on, and you don't have to tell me, but at least for today will you let me finish taking care of you?’ you asked with a small smile, and he looked behind you before deciding that yes, he'd actually like that, his own forced smile mirroring yours before it turned into something soft and genuine.

You liked this smile a lot more you also decided as you got back to your soup, Bob watching you eat before joining you on the floor. His posture was a lot more relaxed than you'd ever seen before as he finished off his second bowl and went for thirds to your delight, and when his fever came back a bit later, he actually allowed you to let him lay his head in your lap while you dabbed at his forehead.

You didn't know if he'd ever tell you about the mazes, or the room, or why he'd reacted so strongly to you today, but you could be patient with him as you brushed his hair out of the way, his eyes closing as he fell back into an easy sleep in the safety of your arms, the crisp smell of fall and the hearty scent of the soup filling his empty house and making it feel a little more like a home.

#Ray's Readers #Ray's Requests #david dastmalchian #Bob Taylor #Bob Taylor x reader #you can really tell I've been busy cause september is almost over and I wanted to be through my queue by now to get ready for halloween ;w;#the next one will come sooner and I should be able to lock in with the one after that too

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