Work Text:
Geoff would always remember the first time he ever experienced one of Gavin's seizures first-hand; in fact, the man had suffered nightmares long after the first incident. It had been just an ordinary night full of video games and bevs; Griffon had taken Millie to the movies, as a girls' night out for the two of them, leaving her husband and adopted British son to entertain themselves. They played a few rounds of Halo online, getting their asses handed to them over and over, though almost being too drunk to care.
It was around the fifth game that Geoff noticed the lack of squawking from his companion, along with a death message on the screen stating Gavin had been killed by an opponent. When another message came up moments later, Geoff simply laughed, "Jesus, dude, did you forget how to fucking play or do you always suck this much dick?"
The silence that met his teasing where there would normally be none was what really alerted Geoff that there was something off with the Lad. He turned, not caring as their team lost again, taking in Gavin's stock still posture, eyes trained on the TV, though unseeing. Panic punched him in the gut, sobering him up enough to toss the controller away, reaching out to shake the Brit lightly, "Gav?"
No response, though he wasn't really expecting one. Not with the lack of everything in Gavin's eyes; his spirit, his light, even his emotion. Gone. All gone. And it was terrifying.
"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck," he hissed, running a hand through his hair, his eyes darting around the room, as if looking for a guide book on how to deal with whatever was happening to Gavin. It was only after a moment that he decided getting Gavin to lay down might be a good start, taking the controller from still hands and maneuvering the man into laying back on the couch. Helplessly, Geoff sat on the coffee table inches from the prone man, gently reaching out to rub Gavin's arm, almost unconsciously, like he did with his daughter every time she was sick in an effort to soothe her. In this case, he wasn't sure who he was really trying to soothe: him or Gavin.
"Come on, buddy...please...wake up or whatever the fuck it is you need to do..."
"Geoff?" the Brit's voice was soft and tired, but it was there and Geoff allowed his gaze to snap up from where it had wandered to the man's chest, as if making sure he was still breathing. His hand hadn't moved from Gavin's arm, afraid the man would disappear if he let go. Panic was still gripping his heart, and he refused to believe Gavin was alright until he saw it for himself. His blue eyes met green, "Gav? You awake? You alright?"
"Yeah...'m awake. 'm good," Gavin's accent slurred over the words, exhaustion lacing them, the man blinking sleepily; though Geoff could see the guilt shining in his eyes. He knew he had upset the Gent.
"What the fuck was that?" Geoff spoke, no heat in his words, just concern and urgency; who knows if he would have to take the idiot to the hospital or something.
"It...it was a seizure. I have seizures where I just...black out," his response was quiet and a bit sad, almost defeated. It was if he was expecting a fallout from the information that Geoff had just learned.
"Why didn't you fucking tell me before?"
"I...I didn't want you to treat me like everyone else always has. I'm not bloody breakable. I just have a minged up brain."
His gaze softened, hearing the hint of past pains in Gavin's voice; the Lad had probably been dealing with treated differently his whole life. Geoff couldn't blame him for wanting to hide it within his "new" life in America. That didn't change the fact that Geoff's blood pressure was probably double what it usually was.
"You can fucking say that again, asshole. 'Minged?' Where the fuck do you come up with this stuff?"
Gavin's head lifted, looking confused at the fact that out of his entire confession, that was what Geoff chose to comment on. He must have seen the understanding in Geoff's eyes, because all he could do was offer a tired smile in return.
When Griffon returned home that night, she was surprised to find Geoff sitting on Gavin's bed, the Lad in a deep sleep as he watched vigil over him. It would be a scene she would see over and over in the coming years, and one she suspected she would never stop seeing as long as Gavin was under their roof. Whenever Gavin had a seizure, Geoff would always flash back to the "first watch" as Griffon had called it, that panic still making a home in his chest. It always would, he knew, as long as he cared for the man he considered his son.
Geoff would always remember the first time he experienced one of Gavin's seizures first-hand. The first watch. But it wouldn't be the last.