Self Destructive Lucien (TDBM)

[justaquirkygirl]

So, because I'm mildly obsessed with the Doctor Blake Mysteries, this scenario seems very like something Lucien would do, and because I've never read anything like it for this fandom, I spent far too long writing out this fic. If there are any other TDBM fans on here, I hope I captured Lucien and Jean well. Apologies for the length - it got a little away from me!

It was while watching the look on Jean’s face when they turned on the television to catch the tail end of a broadcast of the local ballet that Lucien came up with the idea to surprise her with tickets to see the ballet live in Melbourne. Her face as she watched, mentioning offhandedly that she had always wanted to go, but had never had the opportunity - after all, until recently she had just been a housekeeper, and before that a farmer’s wife, and what chance had she had to see the ballet? – made him want to give her the world, or at least this little slice of it.

After pining for her in what he thought was unrequited love for years, Lucien delighted in finding ways to treat and spoil Jean now that they were engaged, showing her all the things that she had previously missed out on. So, when the chance came to get a set of tickets to a special performance of the Melbourne Ballet Company’s latest, he jumped at it, surprising her with the tickets the week before, and suggesting she treat herself to a new dress to wear when they attended.

Needless to say, Jean was thrilled, and walked around the house humming with a dreamy look in her eyes each day leading up to the ballet. Lucien was determined that this night was going to be special – she put up with so much from him – that he began planning everything right down to the smallest detail, not leaving anything to chance. He arranged for the boarders to be out that evening, so Jean wouldn’t need to cook, and even planned on having flowers waiting for her right on her seat as a surprise. And after all of that planning, what could possibly go wrong?

So, when the morning of their evening at the ballet dawned, and Lucien woke with an excruciating sinus headache and a painfully sore throat, he was determined not to let it get in the way of their evening. He knew that if he admitted to feeling even a bit under the weather that Jean would immediately insist on staying home – and he just couldn’t risk that happening. Her happiness had to come first for a change, and he wasn’t going to let a little head cold stand in the way. After all, he was a doctor, wasn’t he? He could surely manage his symptoms for a day and an evening, then confess to Jean later. And while he was sure she would be cross with him if she discovered that he had deceived her, he was hopeful that she simply wouldn’t have to know that he had done so.

He managed to hide his discomfort during breakfast, even though the toast felt like it was ripping his throat apart going down. He sneezed once just as Jean left the room, having tried to hold it back for a full minute, “HerASHOO!”

“Bless you!” she called back from the next room. Thankfully, she wasn’t there to see how red and guilty his face got as he cleared his throat and called out his thanks. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought; clearly he needed to get out of the house for the day to avoid alerting Jean to his current condition.

As the tickets were for a special matinee on a Sunday, and he had no patients to see that day, it gave him the opportunity to slip out of the house away from Jean’s observant eye, making an excuse of something to pick up in town. And a good thing, too, he thought to himself as an enormous sneeze got away from him just as he shut the front door behind him, “Heh HEHESHOO!” The sneeze made him bend at the waist, barely able to get his handkerchief up in time.

“Bloody hell”, he muttered, checking behind him to make sure Jean hadn’t heard; that one had definitely sounded like a cold sneeze, and he knew that if she had heard, the jig would be up. Hopefully that was just a one off, though, and he wouldn’t be sneezing miserably through the performance. No way would Jean simply overlook that!

As the day wore on, however, he found that he was having even more difficulty managing his symptoms, relying heavily on the whiskey in his hip flask to quiet a nagging cough and soaking through two handkerchiefs with his frequent, heavy sneezes.

In desperation, he stopped by Alice’s in the hopes that she had some type of cold remedy he could try. He had a few of his own back at the surgery, but to access them he’d have to pass Jean, and in his current state he didn’t think he could risk it.

“HarESHOO, ESHOO, HEH HEHESHOO!”, he sneezed, sniffling miserably as he explained his plight to Alice. She looked amused as she offered him a few tablets, “You do realize that Jean is going to find out you’re hiding this from her, and that she isn’t going to be happy about it at all.”

“Yes, you’re probably right,” he sniffled miserably. “But this night is so important to her, and it’s the last performance this company is putting on of this particular ballet – we won’t get another chance if we miss it,” he explained.

“Well, just so you leave my name out of it,” Alice warned him, backing away as he sneezed once more. “Bless you,” she added, almost as an afterthought. She was secretly amused and a little touched at what Lucien was doing in his attempts to please Jean. She didn’t think it would necessarily work, however – she’d seen the look on Jean’s face when Lucien had ignored his personal health and safety in the past.

As the time came nearer to when he needed to dress and get ready for the ballet, Lucien returned home, pausing to take a few extra sips of whiskey and blow his nose hard before entering the house. “Heh, heh…” the sneeze died away, leaving him hopeful that Alice’s cold tablets were working. In the next minute, though, he began shivering as he left the car and moved toward the house, making him groan as he recognized the effects of a fever.

“Nothing some Bex and a cup of tea (liberally laced with whiskey) can’t cure,” he consoled himself as he headed into the house.

Luckily, Jean was upstairs getting ready, calling down to him that she would be just a short while. This gave him the opportunity to slip a few Bex, plus one more of Alice’s tablets just before he dressed. He was beginning to feel a bit lightheaded from all the medication and whiskey, but it was better than letting Jean know that he was unwell.

“Come on now, Lucien,” he said to his reflection in the mirror as he tied his bow tie and straightened his tux. “Keep it together for one night. You can die tomorrow if you must, but tonight is for Jean – hehASHOO!”

Giving his nose one last hard blow and quieting his cough with another sip of whiskey, he stepped out of the bathroom just in time to meet Jean coming down the stairs. The sight of her in the form fitting green gown the exact color of her eyes was quite enough to make him dizzy - if his fever along with the medication and whiskey weren’t already doing it for him.

“Jean,” he beamed at her, “You look lovely.”

“Thank you, so do you,” she responded, before frowning at him, “Although you look a bit pale…”

“It’s just the lighting in here,” he replied hastily, slipping on his overcoat and moving toward the door. “Shall we?” he asked offering his arm.

As they were leaving, his nose began itching again – this time unbearably. He was sure that another sneeze was coming – probably several of them – and there was nowhere to hide from Jean. In desperation, he looked around and spotting the nearly full ash can that he had carried outside from his mother’s studio the night before, he made a quick show of meaning to take it to the curb, before “accidentally” upending it, sending a cloud of ash and dust into the air in front of him.

“Ah ASHOO, ESHOO, SHOO, HARASHOO!” The last sneeze bent him double, and left him sniffling with tears running down his cheeks. “Goodness me,” he sniffed, “clumsy of me to drop it like that,” he continued, wiping his nose on his last clean handkerchief.

“Bless you! I had no idea dust affected you so much,” Jean replied, reaching up to brush some of the ash and dust from where it had settled on his shoulders.

“It normally doesn’t,” he agreed, giving his nose one last hard rub, “but you never know, do you. Anyway, we should be off!” And he opened the car door for Jean, avoiding her eye as she watched him with a slightly suspicious look on her face.

Lucien managed to keep his nose in check for the rest of the drive, taking a quick sip of whiskey from his hip flask anytime he felt the tickle in his throat begin to grow again, and they eventually reached Melbourne and the theater.

Once inside, however, the itch in Lucien’s nose returned, along with the shiver that let him know that his fever was rising despite the Bex he had taken earlier. He looked around wildly, wondering where he could possibly hide, when he suddenly faked a wave across the room and turned to Jean, “You go find our seats, I’ve just seen an old acquaintance I want to say hello to – I’ll join you in a minute; you’ll find a little surprise on your seat.” He prayed that the surprise would get her attention, and that she therefore wouldn’t offer to join him, and let out a shaky breath when she simply nodded and headed for their seats.

Lucien quickly slipped around a corner, pulling his handkerchief out just in time, “ESHOO!” He sniffled, and quickly popped another Bex into his mouth alongside another one of Alice’s tablets, dry swallowing them and praying that they would see him through the performance.

Squaring his shoulders and giving his nose one last blow, he headed off in search of his fiancé.

The combination of the dark theater and all of the medication he had ingested served to make Lucien very sleepy, but at least he managed to refrain from sneezing as he nodded off in his seat. Thankfully, Jean was so mesmerized by what was happening on the stage that she never noticed his head bobbing as he struggled to stay awake.

During the intermission, Lucien excused himself to the men’s room to sip more whiskey and splash some cold water on his face. He was going to make it through this night if it killed him – and it just might if Jean was to discover what he was doing, he thought ruefully as he made his way back to his seat, weaving slightly from the combined effects of fever, medication, and whiskey.

He needed to stifle a few sneezes during the second act, but once again, Jean’s attention was focused solely on the stage and not on him; he was sure she hadn’t noticed.

Once the ballet had ended, however, and they began to make their way back to the car, things quickly took a turn for the worse.

Lucien was having a great deal of trouble walking in a straight line, which was enough to attract Jean’s attention.

“Lucien, are you alright?” she asked, looking at him with concern. He was sweating at this point, and his head felt as though it weighed twice what it normally did; he could only imagine how awful he looked. He knew at least half of his current state was due to being over medicated, but how to explain that exactly, was a little beyond him at the time.

“Jean,” he began, fully intending to come clean about his now pathetic state, when another sneeze over took him, “Hah, heh, HARESHOO!” he sneezed, bending double at the waist and beginning to cough when he was done. “I’m, um, just feeling a bit under the weather,” he admitted sheepishly, trying to ignore the alarmed look on Jean’s face.

“You’re what?” she asked, moving in closer to him and studying his face. She reached up to touch his cheek and gasped, “Lucien! You’re burning up with fever. How long have you been feeling ill?” her eyes narrowed as she began to put the pieces together.

“Well,” he began, thinking it was probably best if he simply came clean at this point, “Since this morning, but it really only got bad just before we left the house. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to spoil the evening for you; I know how much you’d been looking forward to seeing the ballet and I didn’t want to let a little head cold get in the way.” He swayed on the spot as he spoke, and Jean rolled her eyes at his obtuseness.

“Honestly, Lucien, sometimes I wonder at your motives. This clearly isn’t a little cold – look at you, you can barely stand! And you’re a doctor! You should at least be slightly more aware than this!” she continued to scold him as she took his arm and propelled him toward the car.

“Well, to be honest, I think at least some of what I’m feeling now is all of the medication I’ve been taking to try to manage my symptoms,” he admitted. “I’m not sure how well they mix with the whiskey I’ve been taking for my cough – ESHOO!” He managed to turn away from her just in time, but not quickly enough to miss the look of exasperation on her face.

“Lucien,” she began, clearly about to continuing her scolding when he broke into a deep, chesty cough that left him panting slightly and swaying even more than before. This was followed by several more, harsh sneezes, “HERASHOO! Heh heh HEHASHOO, ESHOO!” he groaned pitifully at the end and raised a hand to his aching head, beginning to sway again. Bloody hell, he thought to himself, if the medication was going to make him feel this dizzy, the least it could do was dampen a few of his symptoms!

They had reached the car by now, and he reached out to grab hold of the hood to steady himself. Jean found herself softening toward him despite herself. She could lecture him later, when he was feeling better. Right now, the sad little boy look on his face combined with his shivering was simply making her feel more concerned than angry.

“Right. Let’s get you home and into bed, shall we?” she asked more gently as she helped him into the passenger seat of the car.  He caught her hand in his and gave it a quick squeeze, gratitude shining out of his eyes, “What would I do without you, Jean?” he murmured, leaning back against the seat. “I don’t know,” she replied, “but at this rate I doubt you’d live to find out!” He chuckled at that, his laugh trailing off in a weak cough. He reached for his hip flask once more, but Jean took it from him. “I think you’ve had just about enough of that, don’t you think?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Yes, you’re probably right, Jean, as always,” he replied, feeling his eyes pull shut of their own accord.

Lucien slept heavily on the drive home, and it took Jean more than a few minutes to wake him once they arrived. She was on the verge of seeing if Charlie was home and able to help carry him in when he finally stirred.

“Heh, hehetchoo! Oh, goodness me. Are we home?” he asked, looking around blearily. Jean simply shook her head and draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling him from the car. “Bed,” she told him sternly, steering him toward the door of his room.

He collapsed heavily on the bed, and she deliberated for a moment whether to help him into his pajamas. Ultimately, she simply removed his shoes and covered him with a blanket while he murmured her name and several endearments as he passed back out again.

She let her hand trail over his forehead and cheek, frowning at how warm he was, but she didn’t doubt he’d already taken enough Bex to fell a horse and didn’t dare give him more. She sighed, watching him for a moment. It seemed that Lucien was never not going to need to be saved from himself, but this time he had done it for her – put himself at risk for her happiness. Well. She had forgiven him for worse sins, she could forgive him for this one, too.

 

[Alabaster]

This is wonderful! I've never seen TDBM, but it certainly makes me want to! I hope you'll continue. 

[AngelEyes]

This is adorable. I haven't seen much of the show but this seems right in character.