**Jack Harkness Wakes Up Sick**
Prompt: Jack harkness wakes up sick. He hides it from his team because he is scared that they will make him leave the hub. Jack knows that his team won’t kick him out for being sick but he does not have enywere to go so he is still scared they will make him leave. The team gets mad at jack for being slower then usual, so jack promises to try harder. Eventualy he pushed himself to hard and faints infront of his team. His team takes care of him as they realise that jack is sick
The morning light filtered through the large, frosted glass windows of the Hub, casting soft patterns on the concrete floor. Jack Harkness stirred awake, a sharp ache radiating through his head, pulling him from the warm embrace of slumber. He blinked groggily, taking in the familiar surroundings before the dull throb in his temples reminded him that today would not be an ordinary day. He swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in his throat that hadn't been there before.
“Just a chill,” he muttered to himself, swinging his legs off the bed. Jack forced a stand, battling nausea that coursed through him. The Hub hummed with life, the familiar hum of technology blending with the first stirrings of his team. He couldn't let them see him like this—not weak. Not now, when they needed him.
Slipping into a well-worn jacket, Jack applied a façade of normalcy, determined to hide the unease brewing within him. As he stepped into the main area where the team was busy with their morning reports, Jack plastered on a charming smile that made everyone else forget the weight he carried on his shoulders.
“Morning, team!” he greeted, but the smile faltered when he caught the concerned glances exchanged between Gwen and Ianto. He quickly masked it with his usual bravado. “What’s the status on the Rift readings?”
“Usual anomalies, but a couple of spikes,” Toshiko replied, her brow furrowed. “Everything alright, Jack?”
“Perfectly,” he insisted, dismissing any concern as he focused on the screens before him.
Hours drifted by, his resolve tested with every passing minute. Jack pushed through meetings, numbing the pain with adrenaline. He shuffled paperwork, his movements noticeably slower than usual. He could feel their eyes on him, the subtle exchanges of worry. Their glances pierced through the bravado he wore like armor.
“Jack, is everything okay?” Gwen asked again, concern lacing her tone.
“Fine! A little tired, that’s all,” he reassured her, forcing a chuckle that echoed hollow. But as the day progressed, the whispers of uncertainty grew.
“Could you keep up, Jack?” Ianto queried one afternoon, irritation evident in his voice as Jack stumbled slightly during one of their usual drills.
“I’m trying, Ianto,” Jack snapped defensively, guilt simmering beneath the surface. “I just need to… need to try harder.”
As the hours bled into one another, Jack ignored the telltale signs his body was giving him—the fever that simmered just beneath his skin, the fog that clouded his thoughts. Each decision he made felt heavier, but he clenched his teeth and soldiered on, driven by the fear of disappointing his team.
Yet Jack was acutely aware that the guise could only last so long. His moments of clarity slipped away, replaced by waves of dizziness. Even so, he insisted on pushing through the pain. He led them into the field for some routine checks, but everything suddenly began to tilt.
“Jack?” Tosh’s voice reached him, muffled and far away as darkness danced at the edges of his vision. “Are you sure you’re—”
Every word dissolved into silence as the ground surged to meet him.
When he came to, he found himself sprawled on the cold steel floor, the looming figures of his teammates surrounding him. Blinking hard, he gripped the sense of disorientation and panic threading through him.
“Jack!” Gwen’s voice broke through the haze, worry etched on her pale face. “Jack, can you hear me?”
He nodded weakly, but it felt like a century had passed. Warm hands gently pressed to his forehead, and he closed his eyes, the world still spinning. He tried to say something reassuring, but a cough escaped him instead, rattling his chest and sending flares of pain through his body.
“We need to get you up,” Ianto ordered, the familiar firmness in his tone contrasted by the concern in his eyes.
Jack shook his head, emotional exhaustion drenching him. “I’m fine. Just a little off, that’s all,” he said, feigning confidence, but another body’s waver sent him swaying.
“No, you’re not,” Toshiko interjected firmly. “You should’ve told us you were feeling unwell.”
“I didn’t want to worry you,” Jack admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Anxiety flickered in his chest—what if this confirmed their worst fears? That he didn’t belong here? He was just a man, after all, surrounded by heroes.
“Worry us?” Gwen choked out, disbelief mingling with frustration. “You’ve been acting off all day, and you thought we shouldn’t worry?”
He opened his mouth to respond but faded as nausea overcame him once more.
“We should call a doctor,” Ianto said, his worry stark and palpable.
“No!” Jack insisted, firmer this time. “No doctors, please.” He could feel the tension in the air, the unyielding weight of their collective worry pressing down on him. “I just need to rest. Promise I’ll be fine.”
Grumbling voices ricocheted in the background, their unity swaying but vibrant with longing only to help him. They pieced him back together with tenderness he rarely allowed himself to take.
With a gentle touch, Gwen pressed him against her shoulder, and Ianto fussed for cold cloths. Jack felt heat radiating from his fever and slowly sank against the safety of their attention, finally understanding the love woven beneath his fears of abandonment.
“It’s alright to need us, Jack,” Toshiko coaxed, her courage softening against his faltering heart.
For the first time that day, Jack didn’t feel afraid. In the embrace of his team, surrounded by love and loyalty, a profound sense of belonging reshaped him. They cared—not simply for the man who led them but for the friend who shared their burdens.
As he drifted into a light sleep, the laughter of his team filled the space, threading warmth through the remnants of his sickness, assuring him that whatever awaited him, he would never be alone.
