#should probably put more cough drops in my bag and take tylenol cold and flu tonight for good measure

[animazed]

i’m starting to feel a little sick and trying to figure out why is just like

is it cuz it’s winter and it’s now getting colder out?

is it because the kids at work were sick not too long ago?

is it cuz i was off my regular meds this past week and now have to stop the withdrawal and re-regulate?

and/or bonus; the stress from dealing with the insurance company, doctor, and pharmacy, who all refused to contact the others directly, forcing me to continuously be involved in every single half-step if i wanted anything to get done?

is it cuz my period’s probably coming soon?

is it actually nothing?

Who knows!

[pink-peony-princess]

Matters of the Heart

"Why?"  I groaned rolling over throwing a pillow across the room at my alarm clock.  It was 5:30 in the morning and I was not in the mood to get up.  Not only was it Friday, which meant it was the end of the week and I was exhausted, but I had a massive English final and to top it all off I was feeling pretty crappy. As I sat up, rubbing at my tired eyes I couldn't help but notice the aching of my limbs, my scratchy throat and my stuffed up nose.

I knew I needed to get up though,so I reluctantly left the warmth of my bed and trudged down stairs,  finding that I was the first one awake.

For a few minutes the house was silent,and I relished it,knowing that by the end of the day I was going to have a pounding headache. It was at that moment when I started mentally kicking myself for fighting with my big brother Shawn when he had suggested getting a flu shot a month earlier. He wasn't happy, and it took a fair but of convincing,but eventually he let it slide. I hated needles, and he knew that.

"You look like you're about to fall over Aimee," Shawn appeared suddenly, laughing when I jumped slightly in fright, coming over to where I was leaning against the counter.

I looked up and smiled half-heartedlly.

"I feel like it!" I groaned.

"Hug?" he asked opening his arms for me to step into. Ever since I could remember we had always shared a hug first thing in the morning.

It was a ritual,  and just because I was now seventeen and a senior in high school didn't mean that I didn't love it.

"Aimmee, you feel warm," he spoke, resting his hand on my forehead as I leant into him "Why don't you stay home today Sweet Pea?" he asked as I waited,  snuggled in his arms for my coffee to finish brewing,sniffling every so often.

"Can't," I sighed,  " I've got a massive test first period for English," I told him before swotting his hand away.

"Well at least make sure you take some Tylenol,  and have plenty of water," He told me, as I grabbed my coffee,  ready to leave the house.

"Shawn,I'm not a baby!" I huffed,rolling my eyes.  I hated it when he went all over protective on me,  especially when it came to my health.  Of course it was just my luck that he and our other three housemates and his best friends,Brian, Dave and Connor were all well respected doctors at the local hospital's Emergency Department.

He hummed in response, clearly not impressed with my answer, but didn't push it. Normally he would've put his foot down and told me point blank I wasn't going. I knew I still had a ways to go though as I still had to get past the others. 

I considered them to be brothers to me, just the same as Shawn, so I was very close with all of them. Consequently they were all extremely protective of me,  something which I hated, as I really wasn't too fond of anything medical. I'd had a couple of bad experiences when I was younger that had put me off hospitals.

"Brian and Dave just left, and Connor's on call," Shawn told me as I grabbed my house keys. "I'll be home tonight. Bri and D will be home by lunch, so call one of them if you need to come home early. " He kissed my head before opening the door for me,  and telling me to 'have a good day'.

Several hours later, and the day was turning out to be worse than expected. I had just come out of second period, and my head was throbbing, my throat aching as the pain killers I had taken earlier had long since left my system.To out it simply I was feeling like the walking dead.

"I love you babe,  but you really are looking a bit rough hon." My best friend Emma spoke as she came to meet me outside the classroom.

"Let's just go sit down, " I begged as the halls started to fill. We walked in silence, not saying much, but as we were making our way through the doors to the lunch room I suddenly became very light- headed.  White spots obscured my vision as I made a grab for the closest object, the side of the door.

"Are you okay Aimee?" Emma asked, coming to a stop behind me.  Do you need me to call Shawn?"  She asked as I tried to keep myself upright.

"He's at work call Brian or Dave please." I managed to get out, between sharp breaths, as she led me to a lunch table. As soon as she had me seated and stable she pulled out my phone from my bag and called. I could hear talking, but was too focused on not passing out, or throwing up to actually pay attention.

"Dave said he's on his way right now," she spoke making me sigh in relief. At least now I knew that if I fainted I would be in the presence of a doctor or doctors given that Brian was home now too.

"We may as well go up to the office, " she suggested taking my bag from me, and giving me a sympathetic smile. We trudged slowly up to the office building, and once I was there the school nurse made her leave, taking me to her office where I lay on the cot in silence, trying to will away the dizzyness that was now causing the room to spin even more. 

I felt like I was on one of those spinny rides they have at amusement parks.

I wasn't really paying attention to the time or my surroundings so it startled me slightly when I heard the nurse's voice and realised that she was no longer in the room with me.

"She's in here. She drifted off about ten minutes ago, the poor darling," she tutted as the door opened. Dave stepped into the room, dressed in scrubs, his ID badge identifying him as a doctor at the hospital still attached to his pocket. Clearly he had just come from work.

"I'm sorry I made you leave early," I apologised,  coughing.

"Aimee, don't be ridiculous, you know the guys and I would drop anything any time you need us honey." I knew it was true. They had lived together since their intern year, and when I moved in I basically gained three other family members.  It wasn't much of an adjustment though as I already saw them as older brothers, so I knew he meant what he was saying.

"So you're not feeling too good ha? " he asked, coming over to the cot, and giving me yet another sympathetic smile.

"You could say that," I laughed at the gross understatement before, letting out a few harsh coughs, making Dave's brow furrow.

He took my hand, and pulled me into a sitting position slowly.

"I feel dizzy," I mumbled, holding his hand more tightly.

" You're okay, it's probably just your Eustachian Tubes. If they get blocked, it messes with your balance, and can make you feel dizzy," he explained calmly as he waited for me to get my bearings. Once I felt normal enough to stand,Dave took my bag,  and led me out to his car, keeping a supportive hand on my lower back the entire time.

"How long have you felt sick?" he asked switching into doctor mode almost immediately as soon as we stepped out of the office. "Aimmee?" he asked again as we got strapped in.  It was only then that I realised I hadn't answered his question.

"Since last night," I admitted,  leaning my head on the window.

"You really should have gotten the flu shot," he spoke a few minutes later.

" D, don't lecture me,  you know I hate needles!" I grumbled, turning to glare at him.

"I'm just saying." He held his hands up in defense.

"Well just don't say!" I snapped back.  "Sorry, " I added when I saw the look of shock. " I get mean when I'm tired."

He smiled, nodding in response, but didn't say anything, instead turning the car on and heading for home. Something which I was greatful for as I wasn't in the mood to talk.

The next thing I was aware of was my door opening slowly and Dave rubbing my arm gently.

"Aimmee, we're home honey," he spoke as I squinted, readjusting to the light. He was patient as I got out of the car, and made my way inside, helping me into the warm house and straight upstairs to my room.

"Take this," he spoke, handing me some decongestant for my cough and some aspirin for my headache. 

I made my way slowly over to the bed once I had taken the given medication, curling up as Brian walked in with a soft smile, still dressed in his scrubs, stethoscope round his neck. "Hi sweetheart, I just want to take your temperature." he told me  coming over to the bed, with a thermometer in hand, sitting beside me.

"I'm going to turn the heating up,  and get a few more blankets," Dave told us before leaving the room.

"Sit up for my Aimee," Brian spoke, pulling the covers back.

"No," I whined, rolling over to try to avoid it.

"Come on Aimee, it'll only take a minute," he promised as Dave returned and came over, helping to roll me over. True to his word it was only a minute later that the machine beeped and I heard them both hum.

"You got yourself a substantial fever hon. I want you to get into a singlet. You can have a thin blanket if you're feeling cold, but the more we reduce the outside heat sources the better."

"You shouldn't be having to look after me," I huffed as I got out of bed in order to remove my excess clothing. "You haven't even removed your stethoscope or the gel from your hair, " I pointed to the way his hair was still spiked back with gel,  knowing that when Brian got home, removing  it was always the first thing he did, kind of like washing the day away.

"How about you let me worry about that hey?" he suggested, before laughing as I nearly fell, trying to remove my school pants, leaving me in just bike shorts and a crop top. Once I was changed he got me situated, propping up pillows to help with my cough.

"Thanks," I mumbled. "Hey where'd Dave go? " I asked noticing for the first time that he wasn't in the room anymore. 

"He had some paper work to catch up on," This wasn't unusual as Dave was the Head of the Emergency Department, with Shawn, Connor and Brian working as his deputys, helping to lead the charge as the hospital is one of the biggest in the country,getting code blacks several times a month.  

"As do I, so get some sleep. Just shout if you need anything, I'll be in the lounge drowning in paper work." He smiled as he pulled the quilt up around me and walked out the door.

I woke to whispers a while later, not knowing where I was, or what time it was for a few moments.  When I felt the gentle touch of a hand on my forehead,  and then my wrist,  I came back to reality.

"She's still too warm," someone whispered.

"Aimmee?" I recognized the voice as Brian. Slowly I managed to open my eyes, squinting, and letting out a small moan at the instant headache the newfound light was giving me.

"How you feeling hon?" he asked, sitting on the bed, and rubbing my arms gently. He had changed into sweat pants and an old teeshirt since the last time I was awake, his hair now flopping over the right side of his face.

"Cold, sore, tired...," I listed off, trying to fight the urge to cough again. I just wanted to roll over and curl back up.

"How 'bout you come down stairs and have something light to eat, get some fluids into you,  and I'll heat up a hot water bottle for you?" he suggested, standing up from the bed.

I really didn't want to, but I knew I really didn't have a choice, and that no matter what I said, he would make me.

"Fine," I sighed, slowly sitting up, and following him and Dave at a snail's pace down the stairs.

"Why'd you go to school?" he asked as I got settled on the couch.

"Had a test I couldn't miss," I answered between another set of bone rattling coughs.

"That doesn't sound good." He folded his arms and eyed me carefully.

"Yeah well, it doesn't feel too good either."

"Will you let one of us listen to your chest?" he asked, probably already knowing the answer.

I shook my head. He left it at that, and went to get some food for me, also heating up the hot water bottle as promised. When he returned he made me eat a piece of toast and have some honey lemon tea to help soothe my sore throat, before finally letting me go back to sleep. That was where I was when my brother stepped into the house, I don't know how many hours later.

"How are you feeling?" Shawn came to sit on the couch with me, still dressed in his scrubs.

"Pretty crappy." I sniffed leaning into his side, and relishing the warmth.

" Brian,when was the last time she had medicine?"  he asked, pressing his palm to my to head.

Brian poked his head into the room from the kitchen. Probably having been preparing dinner, as they all took turns usually.

"About five."

"So about an hour ago," Dave surmised, coming over to sit on the other side of me,and looking at his watch.

"You're still feeling warm Princess, I'm going to go get some wet washers. You're having the flu shot next year Princess." he called as he left the room.

"But Shawn!" I whined, he knew how much I hated needles.

No,we are not having a repeat of this. Wouldn't you rather avoid this if you can?"

"You don't even know it's what it is. How long does it last though?"

" Seven to ten days, give or take. That's if it is the flu though," he qualified from the other room.

"I am sick of feeling sick," I grumbled as I chucked yet another batch of tissues into the bin that Brian had left beside the couch for me.

"Well maybe you'll think about that next time I say it's time to get your flu shot," he sassed, coming back into the room with several cold washers. I couldn't help but roll my eyes, he always had to be right!

"I saw that!" Dave laughed, poking my side and winking.

"Saw what?" Shawn asked, looking between the two of us.

"Nothing," I answered with a smile, trying to convey my innocence. " But seriously Shawnie, I know being a doctor is practically in your DNA,  but could like not use this moment to do a 'I told you so. '," I huffed, throwing my weight to the back of the couch again.

He and Dave just laughed, before they worked together, placing the clothes around my body- under my arms, on my forehead, even my feet.

"You know if you let one of us take a look at you,  then we might actually be able to help you," Connor spoke from the door, arms crossed,  it was the first time I'd seen him all day. He looked tired, but somehow there was still a teasing glint in his eyes.

"No," I answered immediately, shivering at the thought.

He sighed coming to sit on the edge of the couch.

"We're not going to do anything to hurt you honey,  but you've been sick for over 24 hours now, and nothing is changing."

"Not all doctors are nasty, cold people like your previous one," Shawn added with a gentle smile,  reaching to take my hand in his. "Besides, I'm your brother and I wouldn't let anyone hurt you, we all took an oath not to do harm."

At least let us check your temperature again and eat something."

I looked down ringing my fingers before looking back at them all.

"Okay, but can we watch a movie after?"

...

It was now several hours later,and the movie (Monsters, INC.) had finished, and we were all in bed, but I lay awake tossing and turning, unable to find a comfortable spot. I could feel that my fever had gotten worse, I was sweating, but freezing, I had aches and pains, and my whole body felt like lead. On top of that I now had a weird stabbing pain in my chest that was getting worse, and it was freaking me out. At first I thought it was just from all the coughing, but when it wasnt getting better after a solid half an hour of trying to ignore it, I knew something was wrong.

I got up slowly, and made my way down the hall to my brother's room, opening the door, seeing him splayed out on the bed, shirtless and snoring.

"Shawn?" I whispered, hoping to wake him, but it didn't do anything.  "Shawn?" I tried again, this time shaking his arm a little bit, still nothing. Finally I was about to give up when I heard a voice from outside.

"Aimee?" Connor asked, stepping into the doorway, his face illuminated by moonlight flooding through the window.

"Con," I sighed relieved.

"What's wrong? " he asked as I came to stand next to him, him pulling me into a hug.

"My heart hurts," I hicupped into his chest.  "My heart hurts," I repeated.

"Okay,calm down," he soothed, rubbing my back, and starting to lead me back downstairs, but not before shaking Shawn awake, and telling him to wake the others, all of which came into the lounge room minutes later, rubbing tiredly at their eyes.

"Now what sort of pain is it?" Connor asked,sitting next to me, and taking my pulse, as the others watched.

"It feels like I'm being stabbed here, " I told him holding my hand over my chest. Their brows furrowed.

"Does it hurt more when you're lying down or sitting? " Dave asked, coming over to me.

"Standing and lying down," I answered.

"How long has it been hurting?" Brian asked, feeling my forehead once again for the fever. "Her fever has spiked," he muttered, "Right I need to listen to your chest for a minute Poppet," Dave spoke standing and running to his room.

We sat quietly as we waited for Dave, me trying to get a hold of my emotions, as Connor sat beside me, rubbing calming circles on my back.

"I  don't like this," I mumbled leaning into Shawn's side so that my face was in his neck, my voice muffled.

"You're doing great though Princess."

"But what if it's something bad?" I whispered, looking up at my brother.

"Aimee, I can't promise you anything right now, but I do know that you have four people here with you that are going to look after you. Right now, your only job is to let us do our jobs okay?" he smiled pulling me into him more tightly.

"You alright Princess?" Dave asked kneeling down beside the couch.

"No," I whispered the tears coming back as he went to place the stethoscope to my chest.

He sighed before dropping his arms and looking at me. "What are you scared of Sweetheart?" He didn't look angry, merely concerned so I told the truth.

"I don't like hospitals, or doctors," I admitted feeling stupid.

"Look Princess, I know you haven't had the best experiences with them in the past, but right now we really need to figure out what's going on. Try to remember that it's just me okay, just D, one of you're annoying big brothers. Don't think of it negatively, just think of it as we're trying to make you feel better," he suggested.

"Can you explain everything?" I asked, my voice breaking a bit.

"Of course,everything will be at your pace, okay?"

I nodded, showing him that I understood. " Is it okay, if I lift this up, so I can listen to your heart and lungs?" he asked tugging at my sweater lightly. I nodded again, holding Shawn's hand just a little bit more tightly.

"Just think, you're really quite lucky, it's not everyday that you get the Head of the Emergency Department doing a personal consult for you," Shawn said.

"That is true." I smiled despite everything.

"I know I'm the best," Dave laughed, as he stood up to listen to my lungs.  "Deep breath in for me." I did as asked, waiting impatiently for it all to be over.

"There's definitely some crackling, especially on the left side of the lungs, and I'd like to double check, but it sounds to me like there's some inflammation around the heart," he spoke, allowing me to lean back.

"What, what does that mean? " I asked, my heart rate spiking again.

"If I'm right it means that the virus has effected the layers of your heart. Basically the tissue has gotten inflammed and is rubbing together. That's what is causing the pain."

"Is it dangerous?" I panicked feeling the blood drop from my face.

Connor looked at me before answering carefully. "It can be, but chances are that it's viral Pericarditis,  so it should resolve within a few days with minimal intervention." he explained gently.

"Per, whaty-what?" I asked, feeling more confused than ever.

"Pericarditis,  it's the medical name, " Brian explained, all of them them laughing at my sheer confusion.

"So what now?"

"Well as Dave said we need to check- get some x- rays to confirm, and while we're there we'll investigate everything else that's going on.  It's almost certain you've got the flu, and that's what has caused it, so we   need to get that sorted for everything else to get better," Shawn explained.

I groaned, letting my head drop into his lap,  unfortunately this created the urge to cough, and with every cough that I let out, the burning,  stabbing pain only intensified.

"We really need to get you to the hospital," Shawn urged seeing my discomfort, before bending down and picking me up, cradling me in his arms.

The other dashing upstairs to get into clothes other than pyjamas, and grab their badges. None of them seemed to care that they weren't in scrubs, and when I asked Shawn if it mattered he responded with "As long as we have our badges with us,  it's okay. It's not mandatory to wear uniforms."

Once they were ready, they bundled me up in blankets, Shawn insisting that they protect me from the cold winter air, even for the short walk from the house to the car. I tried to be helpful, and support some of my weight as Shawn carried me to the vehicle, but I just didn't have any energy,  and every time I moved, it hurt. Eventually I gave up, having tried to shuffle into my seat, twisting the wrong way and sending a shot of pain straight through my chest.

"Just let us do the work," Dave stopped me as I tried again,holding my arms, and bringing me to a holt, and so from that point on I was something of a jelly fish. Except for the shaking, I could barely stay still the whole drive, my legs trembling of their own accord, no matter how hard I tried to stop them.

"You'll be alright, " Connor commented,  giving me a much needed hug as he helped me out of the car 20 minutes later.

By now I was feeling straight up petrified, and the worst part about it was, all four of the guys knew it. And there was absolutely nothing I could do.

"Come on," Shawn whispered, leading me slowly towards the hospital entrance.

Inside, they led me straight past the admissions desk, briefly filling one of the nurses in as we made our way into the room, Shawn helping me gently onto the single bed.

"Not anyone I don't know," I begged, holding onto Shawn, as the others moved around the room,  collecting things and setting up equipment. I tried not to pay attention as I could already feel the anxious knots forming.

"You know we're not meant to be treating you Princess, at least not here, we're family," he responded, kissing my hand, while grabbing a gown from a draw and passing it to me, turning around so I could get changed,the others not paying attention.

"Actually Shawn," Dave spoke once I was dressed in the hideous cloth, "The pit is in overdrive, I had five new admissions just in the last half hour of my shift, and the other doctors are overloaded, I really don't think anyone will mind, and if they do they can take it up with me as the Head of the Department. She needs to be seen to, especially if our suspicions are right, " Dave interrupted, patting my arm gently.

"Aimee?" Brian called, getting my attention. "We'll take this really slowly hon, but we need to hook you up to a couple of things, okay?" I nodded, managing a smile as they went about starting to attach everything.  A blood pressure and heart rate monitor, which I knew, a mask,  which Shawn was quick to explain that I needed as I tried to remove it. "Leave it there baby, you could really do with the extra oxygen at the moment. You're heart is racing, and your blood pressure is also a little higher than it should be. Heart rate 120, BP 130/90," he called to the others as he watched the monitors that were now displaying my vitals. 

"That's a little higher than it should be Aimee, just try to relax, I know it's scary, and I know that all the lights, and the noises won't be helping,  but I promise you, you're in the best place right now, " Connor promised, coming over, and warming his stethoscope up in his hands before placing it against my chest.

The machines attached to me started beeping, as my heart rate picked up again, only making me feel more anxious and agitated.The guys seemed unfazed though, Brian quickly shutting them off with no trouble. " It's just an alert to tell us that you're vitals are higher than they should be," he explained when he noticed me watching his every move.

"Aimee?" Connor called, resting his hand under my chin, and turning my head gently so that my focus was on him again. "Ignore all that sweetheart,the guys will sort that out okay, all I need you to do is focus on Luke and I okay?" he smiled when I nodded, before helping me to sit up. "Breathe in for me Aimee, and out, and again," he spoke as I took shaky breathes, holding Shawn's hand in a death grip.

"There's definitely some wheezing there.  I'd like to get a chest x-ray, and start you on fluids," he told me as he moved the stethoscope away, and allowed me to lay back again. "I'll order the x- ray now, you should be able to have it done in the next half an hour," he added as he went to the computer in the corner of the room, and pressed a few buttons.  "Done, they'll page us when they're ready for you," he smiled.

"Right, is it okay if I have your left hand Princess?" Dave asked stepping up to the side of the bed. I only realised what he was dining when I  saw the tray that he had placed down next to my side.

"No," I cried, panicked, realising that it was a needle, and other equipment, necessary for an I.V. "Can't you just give me something to make me better?" I asked desperately wanting to avoid an needles at all costs.

He sighed, taking in my stressed appearance." Three days ago an anti- viral may have worked, but somebody decided to be a difficult patient," Shawn looked at me pointedly as we all laughed."but now," he continued "not so much. Even with the anti-viral your body would have struggled.  So now that the virus has taken hold your body really needs the extra help. Fluids included, " he explained, as Dave picked up the wipe from the metal bowl, wiping my hand down. I couldn't help the shudder that ran through my body, I had always hated the smell of hospital disinfect, and the sterilization wipes were no better.

"Sorry, he murdered as he finished, and chucked the wipe into the bin next to the bed. " Ready?" he asked, looking to me as he positioned my hand and opened the packet housing the needle.

" Do I really have to?" I asked, looking up at my brother, hoping he would help me out. Instead, he rubbed my back before agreeing with Dave.

"Sweetheart, you're in pain baby, this will help with it okay. It'll give you some relief,listen to me. Take a breath, listen to my voice.  'll sit up here and hold you. It'll be over in a second and then that's the worst over. Okay. Dave's a pro," he insisted,  gesturing for me to move over so he could hop up onto the bed. He smiled encouraging allowing me to snuggle in.

"Don't cry Princess, " Dave murmured,wiping softly at my face with a tissue to dry the tears that were now falling. "On three, " he warned, causing me to bury my head in Shawn's neck. "One, two, three," I felt the pinch, of it breaking my skin, but it was nowhere near what I had been expecting, and I found myself looking up in surprise.

"Not so bad right," Shawn laughed.

"The expectations are always worse than the reality," Dave added, as he attached the tubing,  and removed the tray from the bed. "You're all set little one, " he told me as he finished hookingme up to the fluids, and pain relief, before kissing my head.

For the next half an hour we sat in relative silence,  all exhausted given that it was still so early. Finally Connor got the call to say that they were ready for me at radiology, Dave offered to take me so the others could get food, and Shawn could sort my admission papers. At first I wasn't too happy at the idea, but when Dave promised that he wouldn't leave my side I relaxed, and let him transfer me to a wheel chair, leading me down the maze of corridors.

"D," I asked as we came to a stop outside a lift.

"Yes? " he asked, bending down so that he could hear me more easily.

"Why do Cheetahs have spots?"

He didn't answer me for a minute, but then he started laughing, "Oh my goodness, I think the pain relief is starting to take effect."

" I feel fine now." I shrugged as the doors opened and he wheeled me in, still chuckling.

"I bet you do Princess, I bet you do."

The x- rays were quick and easy, only taking about ten minutes, after which Dave took me straight back up to the room.

"Someone's pain meds have taken affect!" he announced as he stopped just inside the door, and helped me to my bed.

Brian looked up from where he was sitting on the small chair in the corner doing paperwork and smiled. " I can see that, her eyes are huge, how much did you give her?" he laughed, standing up,  and coming over to the side of the bed.

"What do you mean? " I asked as Brian pulled a light from his pocket.

"You're pupils, they're extremely dilated. "

"What are you doing?" Shawn asked as he and Connor walked in.

"She's high on pain meds," Dave explained with a chuckle. "We may as well do the exam now, while you're not in too much discomfort."

"Okay," Weirdly I didn't feel as nervous as I did before.

"Wow, those meds got you good baby, this is the most relaxed you've been in a medical setting,  ever!" Shawn laughed taking my hand as he stopped next to me. " I didn't know pain meds effected you like this."

"Alright " Dave tapped my leg bringing my attention back.  "I just want to check your heart and lungs first little lady, can you lean forward?" I nodded allowing him to do what he had to do. 

"There is some slight wheezing,  but other than that and the inflammation everything sounds perfect. " he smiled. "Your heart rate has come down too," he noted looking to the monitor.  "That's good! So what else besides your fever, and the chest pain are you feeling?"

"What?"

"What other symptoms do you have? " Connor clarified, standing next to Dave.

"Cough, runny nose, sore throat, chills, head aches, fatigue." I listed, laughing slightly when the guys mouths dropped a bit in shock.

"Why didn't you just let us help you?" Shawn asked, clearly exasperated.

I shrugged, "I don't know, I guess, I'd rather just deal with it on my own. Or that's what I did think until it started hurting," I whined,  "It feels like someone's stabbing me!"

"Let me have a look at your ears, nose and throat okay Princess," Dave spoke, ignoring the last bit of what I said. I was glad though because I just wanted to feel better. And the sooner he figured out what was wrong, the sooner he could make that happen.

"Well it's official Princess, you've got yourself a nasty case of the flu," he announced with what I thought was a rather unnecessary smile as he finished looking at my throat. "It's one of the worst ones I've seen in a while, I don't know how you're breathing through your nose, at all, or eating for that matter. Your throat is red."

"Yeah well, I'm not feeling that great right now,  trust me," I grumbled. "I just wish my chest would stop hurting.  "It stopped, and then it started again. "

"Radiology just sent through your scans, it's definitely pericarditis," Brian replied from the corner, causing me to groan.

"This sucks!" I whined, flopping back against the bed, "and it hurts."

"I know baby," Shawn spoke, clearly sympathetic.

"I'll put some more pain meds in your I.V okay,  it should help,  mbut really all we can do is relieve the pain, and keep you on bed rest until the virus runs it's course," he spoke gently as he readjusted the blankets for me, and put some more stuff in my I.V. "That should take too long to work. "

"Hop back in with me, I'm cold," I whined, pulling his arm so that he moved closer to the bed. I felt like all I was doing was whining,  but I just felt crappy.

"That'll be the fever, " Brian nodded. "You've had stuff for it though, so we just need to let it do it's thing. Provided it doesn't get too high, it actually helps your body get rid of the virus. "

"The beds barely big enough for one," Shawn laughed, still focused on me.

"I don't care," I whined continuing to pull at his arm.

"Fine,"  he sighed, hoping in next to me, and allowing me to curl up once more.

"So what have you learned from this whole thing?"  Shawn asked smirking from beside me as I struggled to keep my eyes open half an hour later.

I glared at him, causing all of them to laugh, "Go on, what have you learned?" he asked tickling my side.

" I don't know if I can say it, it hurts too much," I laughed, going along with the joke. He pouted.

"Hey no fair!" I argued, he knew that I couldn't resist it when he pouted, it had been that way since we were kids. "Fine, I should have listened to you, cause you know best," I grumbled, holding my chest as if I was wounded.

"Was that really so hard?" Connor laughed watching from where he was packing up excess wiring,  placing them back into their relevant draws.

"Yes, it was incredibly painful," I sassed back.

"Truth hurts princess!" Shawn laughed, pulling me into a hug.

"That it does," I agreed, resting my head on his shoulder again  and closing my eyes. Never again would I be so stubborn. But there was no need for them to know that, not yet anyway.

[pinkpeonyprincessblog]

Matters of the Heart

"Why?"  I groaned rolling over throwing a pillow across the room at my alarm clock.  It was 5:30 in the morning and I was not in the mood to get up.  Not only was it Friday,which meant it was the end of the week and I was exhausted, but I had a massive English final and to top it all off I was feeling pretty crappy. As I sat up, rubbing at my tired eyes I couldn't help but notice the aching of my limbs,my scratchy throat and my stuffed up nose.

I knew I needed to get up though,so I reluctantly left the warmth of my bed and trudged down stairs,  finding that I was the first one awake.

For a few minutes the house was silent,and I relished it,knowing that by the end of the day I was going to have a pounding headache. It was at that moment when I started mentally kicking myself for fighting with my big brother Shawn when he had suggested getting a flu shot a month earlier. He wasn't happy, and it took a fair but of convincing,but eventually he let it slide. I hated needles, and he knew that.

"You look like you're about to fall over Aimee," Shawn appeared suddenly, laughing when I jumped slightly in fright, coming over to where I was leaning against the counter.

I looked up and smiled half-heartedlly.

"I feel like it!" I groaned.

"Hug?" he asked opening his arms for me to step into. Ever since I could remember we had always shared a hug first thing in the morning.

It was a ritual,  and just because I was now seventeen and a senior in high school didn't mean that I didn't love it.

"Aimmee, you feel warm," he spoke, resting his hand on my forehead as I leant into him "Why don't you stay home today Sweet Pea?" he asked as I waited,  snuggled in his arms for my coffee to finish brewing,sniffling every so often.

"Can't," I sighed,  " I've got a massive test first period for English," I told him before swotting his hand away.

"Well at least make sure you take some Tylenol,  and have plenty of water," He told me, as I grabbed my coffee,  ready to leave the house.

"Shawn,I'm not a baby!" I huffed,rolling my eyes.  I hated it when he went all over protective on me,  especially when it came to my health.  Of course it was just my luck that he and our other three housemates and his best friends,Brian, Dave and Connor were all well respected doctors at the local hospital's Emergency Department.

He hummed in response, clearly not impressed with my answer, but didn't push it. Normally he would've put his foot down and told me point blank I wasn't going. I knew I still had a ways to go though as I still had to get past the others. 

I considered them to be brothers to me, just the same as Shawn, so I was very close with all of them. Consequently they were all extremely protective of me,  something which I hated, as I really wasn't too fond of anything medical. I'd had a couple of bad experiences when I was younger that had put me off hospitals.

" Brian and Dave, just left, and Connor's on call," Shawn told me as I grabbed my house keys. "I'll be home tonight. Bri and D will be home by lunch, so call one of them if you need to come home early. " He kissed my head before opening the door for me,  and telling me to 'have a good day'.

Several hours later, and the day was turning out to be worse than expected. I had just come out of second period, and my head was throbbing, my throat aching as the pain killers I had taken earlier had long since left my system.To out it simply I was feeling like the walking dead.

"I love you babe,  but you really are looking a bit rough hon." My best friend Emma spoke as she came to meet me outside the classroom.

"Let's just go sit down, " I begged as the halls started to fill. We walked in silence, not saying much, but as we were making our way through the doors to the lunch room I suddenly became very light- headed.  White spots obscured my vision as I made a grab for the closest object, the side of the door.

"Are you okay Aimee?" Emma asked, coming to a stop behind me.  Do you need me to call Shawn?"  She asked as I tried to keep myself upright.

"He's at work call Brian or Dave please." I managed to get out, between sharp breaths, as she led me to a lunch table. As soon as she had me seated and stable she pulled out my phone from my bag and called. I could hear talking, but was too focused on not passing out, or throwing up to actually pay attention.

"Dave said he's on his way right now," she spoke making me sigh in relief. At least now I knew that if I fainted I would be in the presence of a doctor or doctors given that Brian was home now too.

"We may as well go up to the office, " she suggested taking my bag from me, and giving me a sympathetic smile. We trudged slowly up to the office building, and once I was there the school nurse made her leave, taking me to her office where I lay on the cot in silence, trying to will away the dizzyness that was now causing the room to spin even more. 

I felt like I was on one of those spinny rides they have at amusement parks.

I wasn't really paying attention to the time or my surroundings so it startled me slightly when I heard the nurse's voice and realised that she was no longer in the room with me.

"She's in here. She drifted off about ten minutes ago, the poor darling," she tutted as the door opened. Dave stepped into the room, dressed in scrubs, his ID badge identifying him as a doctor at the hospital still attached to his pocket. Clearly he had just come from work.

"I'm sorry I made you leave early," I apologised,  coughing.

"Aimee, don't be ridiculous, you know the guys and I would drop anything any time you need us honey." I knew it was true. They had lived together since their intern year, and when I moved in I basically gained three other family members.  It wasn't much of an adjustment though as I already saw them as older brothers, so I knew he meant what he was saying.

"So you're not feeling too good ha? " he asked, coming over to the cot, and giving me yet another sympathetic smile.

"You could say that," I laughed at the gross understatement before, letting out a few harsh coughs, making Dave's brow furrow.

He took my hand, and pulled me into a sitting position slowly.

"I feel dizzy," I mumbled, holding his hand more tightly.

" You're okay, it's probably just your Eustachian Tubes. If they get blocked, it messes with your balance, and can make you feel dizzy," he explained calmly as he waited for me to get my bearings. Once I felt normal enough to stand,Dave took my bag,  and led me out to his car, keeping a supportive hand on my lower back the entire time.

"How long have you felt sick?" he asked switching into doctor mode almost immediately as soon as we stepped out of the office. "Aimmee?" he asked again as we got strapped in.  It was only then that I realised I hadn't answered his question.

"Since last night," I admitted,  leaning my head on the window.

"You really should have gotten the flu shot," he spoke a few minutes later.

" D, don't lecture me,  you know I hate needles!" I grumbled, turning to glare at him.

"I'm just saying." He held his hands up in defense.

"Well just don't say!" I snapped back.  "Sorry, " I added when I saw the look of shock. " I get mean when I'm tired."

He smiled, nodding in response, but didn't say anything, instead turning the car on and heading for home. Something which I was greatful for as I wasn't in the mood to talk.

The next thing I was aware of was my door opening slowly and Dave rubbing my arm gently.

"Aimmee, we're home honey," he spoke as I squinted, readjusting to the light. He was patient as I got out of the car, and made my way inside, helping me into the warm house and straight upstairs to my room.

"Take this," he spoke, handing me some decongestant for my cough and some aspirin for my headache. 

I made my way slowly over to the bed once I had taken the given medication, curling up as Brian walked in with a soft smile, still dressed in his scrubs, stethoscope round his neck. "Hi sweetheart, I just want to take your temperature." he told me  coming over to the bed, with a thermometer in hand, sitting beside me.

"I'm going to turn the heating up,  and get a few more blankets," Dave told us before leaving the room.

"Sit up for my Aimee," Brian spoke, pulling the covers back.

"No," I whined, rolling over to try to avoid it.

"Come on Aimee, it'll only take a minute," he promised as Dave returned and came over, helping to roll me over. True to his word it was only a minute later that the machine beeped and I heard them both hum.

"You got yourself a substantial fever hon. I want you to get into a singlet. You can have a thin blanket if you're feeling cold, but the more we reduce the outside heat sources the better."

"You shouldn't be having to look after me," I huffed as I got out of bed in order to remove my excess clothing. "You haven't even removed your stethoscope or the gel from your hair, " I pointed to the way his hair was still spiked back with gel,  knowing that when Brian got home, removing  it was always the first thing he did, kind of like washing the day away.

"How about you let me worry about that hey?" he suggested, before laughing as I nearly fell, trying to remove my school pants, leaving me in just bike shorts and a crop top. Once I was changed he got me situated, propping up pillows to help with my cough.

"Thanks," I mumbled. "Hey where'd Dave go? " I asked noticing for the first time that he wasn't in the room anymore. 

"He had some paper work to catch up on," This wasn't unusual as Dave was the Head of the Emergency Department, with Shawn, Connor and Brian working as his deputys, helping to lead the charge as the hospital is one of the biggest in the country,getting code blacks several times a month.  

"As do I, so get some sleep. Just shout if you need anything, I'll be in the lounge drowning in paper work." He smiled as he pulled the quilt up around me and walked out the door.

I woke to whispers a while later, not knowing where I was, or what time it was for a few moments.  When I felt the gentle touch of a hand on my forehead,  and then my wrist,  I came back to reality.

"She's still too warm," someone whispered.

"Aimmee?" I recognized the voice as Brian. Slowly I managed to open my eyes, squinting, and letting out a small moan at the instant headache the newfound light was giving me.

"How you feeling hon?" he asked, sitting on the bed, and rubbing my arms gently. He had changed into sweat pants and an old teeshirt since the last time I was awake, his hair now flopping over the right side of his face.

"Cold, sore, tired...," I listed off, trying to fight the urge to cough again. I just wanted to roll over and curl back up.

"How 'bout you come down stairs and have something light to eat, get some fluids into you,  and I'll heat up a hot water bottle for you?" he suggested, standing up from the bed.

I really didn't want to, but I knew I really didn't have a choice, and that no matter what I said, he would make me.

"Fine," I sighed, slowly sitting up, and following him and Dave at a snail's pace down the stairs.

"Why'd you go to school?" he asked as I got settled on the couch.

"Had a test I couldn't miss," I answered between another set of bone rattling coughs.

"That doesn't sound good." He folded his arms and eyed me carefully.

"Yeah well, it doesn't feel too good either."

"Will you let one of us listen to your chest?" he asked, probably already knowing the answer.

I shook my head. He left it at that, and went to get some food for me, also heating up the hot water bottle as promised. When he returned he made me eat a piece of toast and have some honey lemon tea to help soothe my sore throat, before finally letting me go back to sleep. That was where I was when my brother stepped into the house, I don't know how many hours later.

"How are you feeling?" Shawn came to sit on the couch with me, still dressed in his scrubs.

"Pretty crappy." I sniffed leaning into his side, and relishing the warmth.

" Brian,when was the last time she had medicine?"  he asked, pressing his palm to my to head.

Brian poked his head into the room from the kitchen. Probably having been preparing dinner, as they all took turns usually.

"About five."

"So about an hour ago," Dave surmised, coming over to sit on the other side of me,and looking at his watch.

"You're still feeling warm Princess, I'm going to go get some wet washers. You're having the flu shot next year Princess." he called as he left the room.

"But Shawn!" I whined, he knew how much I hated needles.

No,we are not having a repeat of this. Wouldn't you rather avoid this if you can?"

"You don't even know it's what it is. How long does it last though?"

" Seven to ten days, give or take. That's if it is the flu though," he qualified from the other room.

"I am sick of feeling sick," I grumbled as I chucked yet another batch of tissues into the bin that Brian had left beside the couch for me.

"Well maybe you'll think about that next time I say it's time to get your flu shot," he sassed, coming back into the room with several cold washers. I couldn't help but roll my eyes, he always had to be right!

"I saw that!" Dave laughed, poking my side and winking.

"Saw what?" Shawn asked, looking between the two of us.

"Nothing," I answered with a smile, trying to convey my innocence. " But seriously Shawnie, I know being a doctor is practically in your DNA,  but could like not use this moment to do a 'I told you so. '," I huffed, throwing my weight to the back of the couch again.

He and Dave just laughed, before they worked together, placing the clothes around my body- under my arms, on my forehead, even my feet.

"You know if you let one of us take a look at you,  then we might actually be able to help you," Connor spoke from the door, arms crossed,  it was the first time I'd seen him all day. He looked tired, but somehow there was still a teasing glint in his eyes.

"No," I answered immediately, shivering at the thought.

He sighed coming to sit on the edge of the couch.

"We're not going to do anything to hurt you honey,  but you've been sick for over 24 hours now, and nothing is changing."

"Not all doctors are nasty, cold people like your previous one," Shawn added with a gentle smile,  reaching to take my hand in his. "Besides, I'm your brother and I wouldn't let anyone hurt you, we all took an oath not to do harm."

At least let us check your temperature again and eat something."

I looked down ringing my fingers before looking back at them all.

"Okay, but can we watch a movie after?"

...

It was now several hours later,and the movie (Monsters, INC.) had finished, and we were all in bed, but I lay awake tossing and turning, unable to find a comfortable spot. I could feel that my fever had gotten worse, I was sweating, but freezing, I had aches and pains, and my whole body felt like lead. On top of that I now had a weird stabbing pain in my chest that was getting worse, and it was freaking me out. At first I thought it was just from all the coughing, but when it wasnt getting better after a solid half an hour of trying to ignore it, I knew something was wrong.

I got up slowly, and made my way down the hall to my brother's room, opening the door, seeing him splayed out on the bed, shirtless and snoring.

"Shawn?" I whispered, hoping to wake him, but it didn't do anything.  "Shawn?" I tried again, this time shaking his arm a little bit, still nothing. Finally I was about to give up when I heard a voice from outside.

"Aimee?" Connor asked, stepping into the doorway, his face illuminated by moonlight flooding through the window.

"Con," I sighed relieved.

"What's wrong? " he asked as I came to stand next to him, him pulling me into a hug.

"My heart hurts," I hicupped into his chest.  "My heart hurts," I repeated.

"Okay,calm down," he soothed, rubbing my back, and starting to lead me back downstairs, but not before shaking Shawn awake, and telling him to wake the others, all of which came into the lounge room minutes later, rubbing tiredly at their eyes.

"Now what sort of pain is it?" Connor asked,sitting next to me, and taking my pulse, as the others watched.

"It feels like I'm being stabbed here, " I told him holding my hand over my chest. Their brows furrowed.

"Does it hurt more when you're lying down or sitting? " Dave asked, coming over to me.

"Standing and lying down," I answered.

"How long has it been hurting?" Brian asked, feeling my forehead once again for the fever. "Her fever has spiked," he muttered, "Right I need to listen to your chest for a minute Poppet," Dave spoke standing and running to his room.

We sat quietly as we waited for Dave, me trying to get a hold of my emotions, as Connor sat beside me, rubbing calming circles on my back.

"I  don't like this," I mumbled leaning into Shawn's side so that my face was in his neck, my voice muffled.

"You're doing great though Princess."

"But what if it's something bad?" I whispered, looking up at my brother.

"Aimee, I can't promise you anything right now, but I do know that you have four people here with you that are going to look after you. Right now, your only job is to let us do our jobs okay?" he smiled pulling me into him more tightly.

"You alright Princess?" Dave asked kneeling down beside the couch.

"No," I whispered the tears coming back as he went to place the stethoscope to my chest.

He sighed before dropping his arms and looking at me. "What are you scared of Sweetheart?" He didn't look angry, merely concerned so I told the truth.

"I don't like hospitals, or doctors," I admitted feeling stupid.

"Look Princess, I know you haven't had the best experiences with them in the past, but right now we really need to figure out what's going on.Try to remember that it's just me okay, just D, one of you're annoying big brothers. Don't think of it negatively, just think of it as we're trying to make you feel better," he suggested.

"Can you explain everything?" I asked, my voice breaking a bit.

"Of course,everything will be at your pace, okay?"

I nodded, showing him that I understood. " Is it okay, if I lift this up, so I can listen to your heart and lungs?" he asked tugging at my sweater lightly. I nodded again, holding Shawn's hand just a little bit more tightly.

"Just think, you're really quite lucky, it's not everyday that you get the Head of the Emergency Department doing a personal consult for you," Shawn said.

"That is true." I smiled despite everything.

"I know I'm the best," Dave laughed, as he stood up to listen to my lungs.  "Deep breath in for me." I did as asked, waiting impatiently for it all to be over.

"There's definitely some crackling, especially on the left side of the lungs, and I'd like to double check, but it sounds to me like there's some inflammation around the heart," he spoke, allowing me to lean back.

"What, what does that mean? " I asked, my heart rate spiking again.

"If I'm right it means that the virus has effected the layers of your heart. Basically the tissue has gotten inflammed and is rubbing together. That's what is causing the pain."

"Is it dangerous?" I panicked feeling the blood drop from my face.

Connor looked at me before answering carefully. "It can be, but chances are that it's viral Pericarditis,  so it should resolve within a few days with minimal intervention." he explained gently.

"Per, whaty-what?" I asked, feeling more confused than ever.

"Pericarditis,  it's the medical name, " Brian explained, all of them them laughing at my sheer confusion.

"So what now?"

"Well as Calum said we need to check- get some x- rays to confirm, and while we're there we'll investigate everything else that's going on.  It's almost certain you've got the flu, and that's what has caused it, so we   need to get that sorted for everything else to get better," Shawn explained.

I groaned, letting my head drop into his lap,  unfortunately this created the urge to cough, and with every cough that I let out, the burning,  stabbing pain only intensified.

"We really need to get you to the hospital," Shawn urged seeing my discomfort, before bending down and picking me up, cradling me in his arms.

The other dashing upstairs to get into clothes other than pyjamas, and grab their badges. None of them seemed to care that they weren't in scrubs, and when I asked Shawn if it mattered he responded with "As long as we have our badges with us,  it's okay. It's not mandatory to wear uniforms."

Once they were ready, they bundled me up in blankets, Shawn insisting that they protect me from the cold winter air, even for the short walk from the house to the car. I tried to be helpful, and support some of my weight as Shawn carried me to the vehicle, but I just didn't have any energy,  and every time I moved, it hurt. Eventually I gave up, having tried to shuffle into my seat, twisting the wrong way and sending a shot of pain straight through my chest.

"Just let us do the work," Dave stopped me as I tried again,holding my arms, and bringing me to a holt, and so from that point on I was something of a jelly fish. Except for the shaking, I could barely stay still the whole drive, my legs trembling of their own accord, no matter how hard I tried to stop them.

"You'll be alright, " Connor commented,  giving me a much needed hug as he helped me out of the car 20 minutes later.

By now I was feeling straight up petrified, and the worst part about it was, all four of the guys knew it. And there was absolutely nothing I could do.

"Come on," Shawn whispered, leading me slowly towards the hospital entrance.

Inside, they led me straight past the admissions desk, briefly filling one of the nurses in as we made our way into the room, Shawn helping me gently onto the single bed.

"Not anyone I don't know," I begged, holding onto Shawn, as the others moved around the room,  collecting things and setting up equipment. I tried not to pay attention as I could already feel the anxious knots forming.

"You know we're not meant to be treating you Princess, at least not here, we're family," he responded, kissing my hand, while grabbing a gown from a draw and passing it to me, turning around so I could get changed,the others not paying attention.

"Actually Shawn," Dave spoke once I was dressed in the hideous cloth, "The pit is in overdrive, I had five new admissions just in the last half hour of my shift, and the other doctors are overloaded, I really don't think anyone will mind, and if they do they can take it up with me as the Head of the Department. She needs to be seen to, especially if our suspicions are right, " Dave interrupted, patting my arm gently.

"Aimee?" Brian called, getting my attention. "We'll take this really slowly hon, but we need to hook you up to a couple of things, okay?" I nodded, managing a smile as they went about starting to attach everything.  A blood pressure and heart rate monitor, which I knew, a mask,  which Shawn was quick to explain that I needed as I tried to remove it. "Leave it there baby, you could really do with the extra oxygen at the moment. You're heart is racing, and your blood pressure is also a little higher than it should be. Heart rate 120, BP 130/90," he called to the others as he watched the monitors that were now displaying my vitals. 

"That's a little higher than it should be Aimee, just try to relax, I know it's scary, and I know that all the lights, and the noises won't be helping,  but I promise you, you're in the best place right now, " Connor promised, coming over, and warming his stethoscope up in his hands before placing it against my chest.

The machines attached to me started beeping, as my heart rate picked up again, only making me feel more anxious and agitated.The guys seemed unfazed though, Brian quickly shutting them off with no trouble. " It's just an alert to tell us that you're vitals are higher than they should be," he explained when he noticed me watching his every move.

"Aimee?" Connor called, resting his hand under my chin, and turning my head gently so that my focus was on him again. "Ignore all that sweetheart,the guys will sort that out okay, all I need you to do is focus on Luke and I okay?" he smiled when I nodded, before helping me to sit up. "Breathe in for me Aimee, and out, and again," he spoke as I took shaky breathes, holding Shawn's hand in a death grip.

"There's definitely some wheezing there.  I'd like to get a chest x-ray, and start you on fluids," he told me as he moved the stethoscope away, and allowed me to lay back again. "I'll order the x- ray now, you should be able to have it done in the next half an hour," he added as he went to the computer in the corner of the room, and pressed a few buttons.  "Done, they'll page us when they're ready for you," he smiled.

"Right, is it okay if I have your left hand Princess?" Dave asked stepping up to the side of the bed. I only realised what he was dining when I  saw the tray that he had placed down next to my side.

"No," I cried, panicked, realising that it was a needle, and other equipment, necessary for an I.V. "Can't you just give me something to make me better?" I asked desperately wanting to avoid an needles at all costs.

He sighed, taking in my stressed appearance." Three days ago an anti- viral may have worked, but somebody decided to be a difficult patient," Shawn looked at me pointedly as we all laughed."but now," he continued "not so much. Even with the anti-viral your body would have struggled.  So now that the virus has taken hold your body really needs the extra help. Fluids included, " he explained, as Dave picked up the wipe from the metal bowl, wiping my hand down. I couldn't help the shudder that ran through my body, I had always hated the smell of hospital disinfect, and the sterilization wipes were no better.

"Sorry, he murdered as he finished, and chucked the wipe into the bin next to the bed. " Ready?" he asked, looking to me as he positioned my hand and opened the packet housing the needle.

" Do I really have to?" I asked, looking up at my brother, hoping he would help me out. Instead, he rubbed my back before agreeing with Dave.

"Sweetheart, you're in pain baby, this will help with it okay. It'll give you some relief,listen to me. Take a breath, listen to my voice.  'll sit up here and hold you. It'll be over in a second and then that's the worst over. Okay. Dave's a pro," he insisted,  gesturing for me to move over so he could hop up onto the bed. He smiled encouraging allowing me to snuggle in.

"Don't cry Princess, " Dave murmured,wiping softly at my face with a tissue to dry the tears that were now falling. "On three, " he warned, causing me to bury my head in Shawn's neck. "One, two, three," I felt the pinch, of it breaking my skin, but it was nowhere near what I had been expecting, and I found myself looking up in surprise.

"Not so bad right," Shawn laughed.

"The expectations are always worse than the reality," Dave added, as he attached the tubing,  and removed the tray from the bed. "You're all set little one, " he told me as he finished hookingme up to the fluids, and pain relief, before kissing my head.

For the next half an hour we sat in relative silence,  all exhausted given that it was still so early. Finally Connor got the call to say that they were ready for me at radiology, Dave offered to take me so the others could get food, and Shawn could sort my admission papers. At first I wasn't too happy at the idea, but when Dave promised that he wouldn't leave my side I relaxed, and let him transfer me to a wheel chair, leading me down the maze of corridors.

"D," I asked as we came to a stop outside a lift.

"Yes? " he asked, bending down so that he could hear me more easily.

"Why do Cheetahs have spots?"

He didn't answer me for a minute, but then he started laughing, "Oh my goodness, I think the pain relief is starting to take effect."

" I feel fine now." I shrugged as the doors opened and he wheeled me in, still chuckling.

"I bet you do Princess, I bet you do."

The x- rays were quick and easy, only taking about ten minutes, after which Dave took me straight back up to the room.

"Someone's pain meds have taken affect!" he announced as he stopped just inside the door, and helped me to my bed.

Brian looked up from where he was sitting on the small chair in the corner doing paperwork and smiled. " I can see that, her eyes are huge, how much did you give her?" he laughed, standing up,  and coming over to the side of the bed.

"What do you mean? " I asked as Brian pulled a light from his pocket.

"You're pupils, they're extremely dilated. "

"What are you doing?" Shawn asked as he and Connor walked in.

"She's high on pain meds," Dave explained with a chuckle. "We may as well do the exam now, while you're not in too much discomfort."

"Okay," Weirdly I didn't feel as nervous as I did before.

"Wow, those meds got you good baby, this is the most relaxed you've been in a medical setting,  ever!" Shawn laughed taking my hand as he stopped next to me. " I didn't know pain meds effected you like this."

"Alright " Dave tapped my leg bringing my attention back.  "I just want to check your heart and lungs first little lady, can you lean forward?" I nodded allowing him to do what he had to do. 

"There is some slight wheezing,  but other than that and the inflammation everything sounds perfect. " he smiled. "Your heart rate has come down too," he noted looking to the monitor.  "That's good! So what else besides your fever, and the chest pain are you feeling?"

"What?"

"What other symptoms do you have? " Connor clarified, standing next to Dave.

"Cough, runny nose, sore throat, chills, head aches, fatigue." I listed, laughing slightly when the guys mouths dropped a bit in shock.

"Why didn't you just let us help you?" Shawn asked, clearly exasperated.

I shrugged, "I don't know, I guess, I'd rather just deal with it on my own. Or that's what I did think until it started hurting," I whined,  "It feels like someone's stabbing me!"

"Let me have a look at your ears, nose and throat okay Princess," Dave spoke, ignoring the last bit of what I said. I was glad though because I just wanted to feel better. And the sooner he figured out what was wrong, the sooner he could make that happen.

"Well it's official Princess, you've got yourself a nasty case of the flu," he announced with what I thought was a rather unnecessary smile as he finished looking at my throat. "It's one of the worst ones I've seen in a while, I don't know how you're breathing through your nose, at all, or eating for that matter. Your throat is red."

"Yeah well, I'm not feeling that great right now,  trust me," I grumbled. "I just wish my chest would stop hurting.  "It stopped, and then it started again. "

"Radiology just sent through your scans, it's definitely pericarditis," Brian replied from the corner, causing me to groan.

"This sucks!" I whined, flopping back against the bed, "and it hurts."

"I know baby," Shawn spoke, clearly sympathetic.

"I'll put some more pain meds in your I.V okay,  it should help,  mbut really all we can do is relieve the pain, and keep you on bed rest until the virus runs it's course," he spoke gently as he readjusted the blankets for me, and put some more stuff in my I.V. "That should take too long to work. "

"Hop back in with me, I'm cold," I whined, pulling his arm so that he moved closer to the bed. I felt like all I was doing was whining,  but I just felt crappy.

"That'll be the fever, " Brian nodded. "You've had stuff for it though, so we just need to let it do it's thing. Provided it doesn't get too high, it actually helps your body get rid of the virus. "

"The beds barely big enough for one," Shawn laughed, still focused on me.

"I don't care," I whined continuing to pull at his arm.

"Fine,"  he sighed, hoping in next to me, and allowing me to curl up once more.

"So what have you learned from this whole thing?"  Shawn asked smirking from beside me as I struggled to keep my eyes open half an hour later.

I glared at him, causing all of them to laugh, "Go on, what have you learned?" he asked tickling my side.

" I don't know if I can say it, it hurts too much," I laughed, going along with the joke. He pouted.

"Hey no fair!" I argued, he knew that I couldn't resist it when he pouted, it had been that way since we were kids. "Fine, I should have listened to you, cause you know best," I grumbled, holding my chest as if I was wounded.

"Was that really so hard?" Connor laughed watching from where he was packing up excess wiring,  placing them back into their relevant draws.

"Yes, it was incredibly painful," I sassed back.

"Truth hurts princess!" Shawn laughed, pulling me into a hug.

"That it does," I agreed, resting my head on his shoulder again  and closing my eyes. Never again would I be so stubborn. But there was no need for them to know that, not yet anyway.

[need-a-fugue]

We Grow Together (19)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tessa Sullivan (OFC)

Chapter Summary: A cold, a fight, and a rather protective Bucky...

Summary: Relationships can be tough, especially when one person is a recovering-from-being-brainwashed-and-tortured former assassin and the other is an overworked mutant scientist. But hey, every couple has their struggles. Right?

They’ve been home for just about a week now and their vacation from the everyday already seems like a distant, hazy memory.

After reuniting with everyone that first night back, and sharing their misadventures over pizza and beer, they quickly settle back into their routines. For Bucky, that means helping Natasha train Sam and Wanda in hand-to-hand, which is actually way more fun than he’ll ever admit. In part it’s great because the Widow is a worthy adversary – and she sure as shit can take a punch – so the two can tussle all day long without having to go easy on each other. And in part it’s great because it means that Bucky gets to beat up on Sam – daily – without any guilt. Because it’s all in the interest of making him better and building the best team possible.

When he’s not training, he’s working with Steve to bring in potential new recruits. That job’s not quite as fun and exciting, but it’s important. And it keeps him busy. Or it keeps him at least somewhat occupied so that he feels like he’s finally doing something. He’ll take that for now.

As for Tessa, the moment they arrived back at the compound, she scurried off to the lab – just to check in – and he’s barely seen her since. Actually, he’s pretty sure that the pizza they shared that first night back was the last meal they’d had together.

She came home last night after a trip into the city sniffling and coughing and looking generally awful – It’s cold and flu season… And everyone is sick – and went to bed around eight. So he’s not at all surprised when he wakes the next morning to the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of a terrible, hacking cough coming from the other room. He groans to himself and turns his face down into the pillow for a long moment before finally rolling out of bed.

“Just tell him I’m on my way in,” he hears her say as he pads into the kitchen. Her voice is gravelly and thick as she issues a “yeah, fine,” into the phone before hanging up and slamming the cell down onto the counter. Her eyes close as she leans over the countertop and rests her head on the cabinet in front of her.

“I can hear you wheezing from here,” he tells her, leaning in the kitchen doorway.

She doesn’t turn around, barely even moves except for the slight shrug of her shoulders. “Max is… being Max,” she says defeatedly.

“And that means you have to go in and straighten shit out?”

She nods, her forehead rubbing along the smooth wood grain of the cabinet door. “After coffee.”

He exhales, long and loud before moving across the room to the coffee pot. He reaches up and pulls two mugs out of the cabinet, dumps some sugar in one, and fills them each with the dark, steamy liquid. She turns to him, exaggerated frown on her face, and reaches over to pull her mug across the counter. The fact that she doesn’t remove her head from the cabinet, or seem to have the strength to lift her mug up to bring it to her, is just so over-the-top pathetic that he has to work to keep his amusement from showing.

“Have you eaten anything?” he asks, already knowing the answer. She shakes her head and tries to stifle a particularly wet-sounding cough. “C’mon,” he says with a sigh. “C’mere.”

She practically falls into him when he reaches for her, her head curling into the crook of his neck as her arms wrap around his lower back. “I’m okay,” she grumbles into him, and he can’t help but laugh.

“That was convincing.” She pulls away and looks up at him with a fiery glare. “You look like crap,” he tells her, small smile still on his face.

Her head drops to his chest and in the most pathetic voice possible she croaks out, “You’re mean.” The chuckle that reverberates through him and into her causes the corner of her mouth to quirk up just slightly. But the almost smile completely disappears the minute her phone starts buzzing next to them.

He groans loudly and wraps his arms tighter around her. “Ignore it.”

But that’s just not going to happen. Her entire demeanor shifts when she pulls away from him. “Claire?” she says into the phone, an irritated rather than pitiful look on her face. “Claire, just tell him – ” She twists on her heel to look Bucky in the face, rolls her eyes and quirks her jaw side to side in that way that means she is damn fed up. “Alright!” she snaps suddenly. “Give me five minutes. For fuck’s sake…” And she hangs up the phone and marches angrily out of the kitchen.

He follows her to the bedroom where she quickly strips down out of the shorts and T-shirt she’d worn to bed and pulls on a pair of jeans in an enraged sort of huff. “What are you doing?”

She spins in a circle, her eyes scanning the room for something. But the motion makes her dizzy and she has to drop her hand to the bed to regain balance. “Where are my shoes?”

“How ‘bout a shirt, doll?”

She glances back to find him standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. He’s got his eyebrows raised as he assesses her in that are you serious right now? way of his. Instead of confronting the look, she reaches down and picks up the T-shirt she just shed and pulls it back over her head. That would do for now. She sees her shoes by the closet, so she quickly grabs them and heads for the door. But Bucky doesn’t move, his muscular frame blocking her path.

“What are you doing?” he asks again, as though he doesn’t know the answer.

“I have to go to the lab.”

“You’re sick.”

“I’m fine.”

“Thirty seconds ago you were acting like you were at death’s door.”

She purses her lips tightly together. “I have to go. Please move.”

He unfolds his arms, but doesn’t step aside. Instead he brings his metal palm up to her forehead. The temperature sensors tell him the same thing that her inadvertent lean into him does. “You have a fever.”

His hand feels so good on her face that she almost relents and leans further into it. But Max is refusing to put together the report that Tony needs today. And Donahue is threatening to quit because he doesn’t feel like he’s valued, whatever the hell that means. And the holographic interface is on the fritz again. And Claire can’t deal with any of it because it’s only my job to make you aware of these things, not to fix them. So she shakes him off and levels him with her most intimidating stare. “You need to move.”

In the span of about five seconds, the look on his face shifts from concerned to disappointed to pissed off. “You’re a doctor,” he spits out at her, as though that should be enough for her to realize that you don’t head into the office when you have a fever.

“Exactly. I’m a doctor. And I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

“You’re so full of shit,” he says with a sardonic laugh. But he moves out of her way just the same, cocking his head in the direction of the hall as he gives her just enough space to squeeze past him. “You’re an idiot.”

She slides into the kitchen on socked feet, her sneakers still in her hand, and grabs her full cup of coffee to take with her to the lab downstairs. When she turns to head out, she finds him standing in the kitchen doorway. “Are you going to block every door in the building?”

He gives her an irritated look, his patience more than wearing thin. But he doesn’t actually block her path, instead he holds up a banana for her. She wrinkles her nose, but grabs it from his hand as she passes. “Eat it,” he grumbles at her, the angry command being the last thing she hears before slamming the apartment door.

000

When she gets back about five hours later, she looks just terrible. “It’s your own damn fault,” he tells her when she collapses on the couch beside him.

He wants to be mad at her, might still be if he hadn’t gone and worked the bag for a couple hours before sparring with Sam. But he’s finding it really hard to be anything other than concerned once she curls up into him and says lamely into his side, “I know.”

She lets loose with a coughing fit so bad that he can feel her body seize up next to him. He sets down the book he’d been reading – The Art of War, a gift from Natasha – and pats her back to help her through it. When it’s over, she’s left completely out of breath. He scoots down so that he’s laying down next to her and he wraps his right arm around her middle. “Did you take anything?” he asks as he brings his metal hand up to her face.

Just as he assumed she would, she curls into it, closing her eyes as he traces over her cheekbone with his thumb. “I took some Tylenol when I got down there.”

Her voice sounds just awful, but she doesn’t feel as hot as she did this morning, so he figures she’s probably telling the truth. “You should take some more.”

“I thought I was the doctor.”

He smiles softly as she looks up at him with glassy eyes. “I can run you a bath. The steam will help.”

She shifts down further between him and the couch cushions and nods. “In a minute, maybe.” She lets out a ragged sigh as she settles in deeper. “I think I need to get rid of Max.”

Tessa and Max have had a contentious relationship for as long as he’s known her. But she had always talked about how brilliant he was and how his ideas are magic. They seemed a lot like Tony and Steve to him – not at all on the same page about most things, but still working well together to complete the report. “Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” she says with disdain. “It’s my lab. I’m in charge.”

“Didn’t Tony hire him?”

“It’s my lab.” She lets out a huff as she hoists herself into a nearly sitting position, hovering over him when she says. “He doesn’t respect me. He’s interested in the work. But he doesn’t respect the work. And honestly, he doesn’t really seem to want to work.”

Bucky shifts into a sitting position as well so they can be eye to eye. “Then cut him loose.”

“I am sick,” she starts, seemingly ignoring his comment. “But I still came in today. I came in to fix his problem and do the work he couldn’t be bothered to do.” Her voice rises and starts to hit octaves that are so high that it comes out in pathetic sounding squeaks. “I am there every day. Every day. And I do it while also taking care of all you idiots and building a new med team and… doing whatever else Tony asks.” He watches as her eyes begin to tear up, and not just from sinus congestion. “I mean, I know I can be a pain. I know. But…” she stops suddenly and looks over at him. “Do you think I have a stick up my ass?”

Admittedly, he’s caught off guard by the question, but he can see how upset she is, so he quickly stifles the chuckle rising in his throat. “No, I don’t.”

“Well, Max does. And he says that’s why Donahue wants to leave. To get away from Dr. CBC.” She pauses and begins picking at a loose thread on the hem of her shirt. “That’s what they call me,” she says with such a despondency that it very nearly breaks his heart.

“What does it mean?” He reaches out and tucks some loose strands of hair behind her ear.

She sniffles. “You don’t want to know.”

“Try me,” he says, his voice growing harsh. Tessa may be stubborn and demanding, and he’s sure she’s as hard on the people she works with as she is on herself. But she’s also the most genuinely caring person he’s ever known. All of her research has been to help others – to find cures for diseases that ravage entire populations, or to create adequate genetic testing to be able to catch illness in its earliest stages. And she cares for the Avengers and adjacent personnel, always dropping everything to run to their aid when any of them are sick or hurt, even though there are other physicians on the team who could treat them. And the way she talks about her people, the pride she has in them, the admiration she feels for them… how could they possibly call her names behind her back?

She looks at him for a long moment, clearly assessing whether or not she should tell him. The fact that she’s so hesitant to say what it means, makes his jaw tense and his stare harden. “Controlling Bitch Cunt,” she says finally, looking back down at her hands.

His face twists in anger. “Excuse me?” And he almost knocks her off the couch as he jumps up. “Who exactly called you that?”

She can almost feel the rage radiating off of him, and she immediately regrets telling him anything. In her mind, telling him was just going to ensure that at least one person would be on her side. She knew he’d be angry, but the angry reaction he was sure to have would simply reinforce the righteous anger and hurt that she feels.

But she should have known it wouldn’t be that simple. Not with James. He isn’t just some regular guy who’d get pissed about his girl being insulted and then fume while mumbling threats and curses under his breath. No, the man standing before her was someone who was capable of, and seemingly willing to do, much more than that.

She shakes her head absently. “It’s a joke. Really. It’s a play on words.” She looks up at him and sees his nostrils flare. He quirks his head to the side as if to say, Did I just hear you right? “CBC,” she says with forced enthusiasm. “Complete Blood Count. It’s a test, you know?” He continues to stand completely still, looming over her in a way that’s making even her nervous and uncomfortable. So she turns away when she says, “I think they just had the first C, which is fine. I am controlling. I know that. And really I can be a bitch. A real bitch. I know that too.”

“Stop it.” The words come out deep and slow and through gritted teeth. She doesn’t even recognize it as being his voice. In their nearly two years together, he’s been achingly careful to keep anything remotely resembling the soldier away from her. Aside from that one terrible night when he hadn’t even really been awake or aware enough to keep him at bay, the closest she’s come to seeing the soldier was when they were in Sokovia. But that one awful night she was half asleep herself, and too concerned for him to see the threat. And in Sokovia the world was ending, so she wasn’t paying much attention to his overall demeanor.

But this… this quiet rage… this certainly seems like the man she’s heard so much about.

“James,” she starts, taking a sharp inhale and closing her eyes to avoid looking at his stony face. “I’m sorry.” She shakes her head and feels tears stinging behind her eyes. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t even care about the nickname. It’s stupid. I’m just angry. And tired. And I can’t breathe. And…” The tears start to squeeze their way out of her tightly closed eyes and she bites back a sob so suddenly that she nearly chokes on it.

He’s back by her side in a second, pulling her close and rubbing soft circles into her back with his right hand. “Shh, baby,” he whispers to her as he tucks her head into the crook of his neck. “It’s alright.”

He can feel her hot tears on his shoulder as she mumbles into him, “Don’t be mad.”

He pulls back and places his hands on her shoulders, ducks his head a bit to capture her red rimmed eyes with his own. “I’m not mad at you,” he says, a hint of shock to his voice. “Do you think I’m mad at you?” She shakes her head, but he sees hesitation in her eyes and a hint of… fear? Oh. Oh crap. His hands make their way up to her face, cupping her cheeks. “Do you think I’m going to hurt them?” he asks quietly as he uses the pads of his thumbs to swipe at her tears.

“No,” she says firmly, shaking her head as much as she can while he still has a hold on her.

“I don’t want anyone to talk about you like that. Not anyone. Not ever. And I’m going to go down there and tell them that,” he says, the dark, steely quality permeating his voice once more.

“No,” she interjects firmly.

But he continues on as though she hadn’t spoken. “But I wouldn’t hurt them. That’s not me. Not anymore.” He says the words, thinking they’re true, though a voice in the back of his head reminds him that he doesn’t really believe they are, not completely anyway. He absolutely could and would be the kind of person who would hurt them, or anyone else who messed with his girl. But it kills him to think that she’d see him as the kind of man who would harm someone – or kill someone – over a workplace spat and some nasty name calling. “You believe me, right?”

“I know,” she says before falling into a coughing fit. He rubs and pats her back to ease her through it. When it’s over, she looks up a him, her gaze fierce despite the tears still glistening in her eyes. “You can’t go down there, though,” she tells him. “I can’t have my big, scary boyfriend go fight my battles for me.”

“Your battles are the only ones I want to fight.”

“James,” she starts, her breath still catching. “Jamie… just let it go.”

He understands what she’s asking, of course. If he goes down there and talks to them, then her authority is shot. But he was also raised to believe that you stand up for the people you love, especially the woman you love. You protect her with everything you’ve got. And if anyone hurts her, in any way, you put them in their damn place. “Are you going to fire him?” he asks finally.

“Probably.” She leans her head back down on his shoulder and he feels her shiver. “I’ll need to talk to Tony. But I just don’t want to think about it now. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“I want you to talk to me about the things that bother you. I want you to tell me if someone, or something, upsets you.” This is a conversation they’ve had many times before. Because as much as either of them complains about having had a rough day at work or being fed up with a colleague, somehow her stories and complaints always seem to end without any details about what actually happened or what’s really bothering her. He used to think that she just wanted to compartmentalize and keep work at work and home at home, but now he’s wondering if it might be more than just that. “You know you can do that, right? Talk to me about things?”

She nods into him. “I know. I know. But I honestly feel like shit right now.” She sniffles once before letting out another round of deep coughs.

“Okay,” he says rising from the couch and pulling her with him. “Let’s get you into a bath.” He drops her hand once they’re up and heads into the large hall bath. “Go take some more Tylenol and I’ll run the water.”

She moves so slowly that the deep soaking tub is nearly full by the time she enters the bathroom. “You gonna join me?” she asks with a tired wink as she slips off her jeans.

“No,” he says with a smile. “It’s not that kind of bath. This is a relaxing, healing bath.” He helps her with shirt before leaning back over to turn off the faucet. “Besides, somebody has to go get you some cough syrup before you hack up half a lung.”

She gives him a sad, knowing look. “Please don’t talk to Max.” Her eyes are somehow both commanding and pleading, and he can’t help but wonder how this woman isn’t able to get every single thing she wants out of life. She’s certainly able to get anything out of him.

“I won’t.”

“I mean it, Jamie. Please. Let me handle it.”

He takes her by the shoulders and locks eyes with her. “I promise you, I won’t talk to Max. Not now, at least.” She gives him the smallest of smiles and chokes on another cough. “Get in the tub,” he tells her. “And don’t drown before I get back.”

There’s a small grocery on the opposite side of the compound, a commissary of sorts. So he’s able to get the cough syrup and some Nyquil and get back to the living quarters in about 20 minutes. But he lingers outside the apartment just long enough to make a quick phone call to Tony Stark so that he can relay just what shitty employees he has in his labs. He knows Tessa will be pissed when she finds out. But hearing Tony’s those little motherfuckers over the phone, and knowing that she won’t have to worry about firing them, is enough to take away some of the desire he has to punch their smug lab rat faces in.

[aleapoffaithfiction]

XIV.

It's like I've been awakened Every rule I had you break it It's the risk that I'm taking I ain't never gonna shut you out

You ever felt like you’ve been hit by a car, survived it, and as soon as you go to stand on your feet, you end up getting hit by an eighteen-wheeler truck?

No?

Well, that’s how I’ve been feeling since I woke up this morning. I’ve suddenly morphed into a milk chocolate toned dragon who breathes fire from the depths of my chest and straight out of my throat. Every word spoken comes with an excruciating aching that Tylenol refuses to ease. The tea and honey are barely doing anything to subdue the rough cough that began just yesterday. Oh, and the body aches? I might as well just lay down in the middle of the floor and pray the Lord has mercy on me at some point.

“I don’t know how the hell you made it through the entire show like that. You really are crazy sometimes.” Anna pulled my box braids into a high ponytail as I slouched my frame even further down into the styling chair. I’m conning myself into believing that the slump position will give me a few seconds of relief from the aches I’m having.

The chills trickling everywhere have left me shivering under a throw blanket I took from home. If anyone on set didn’t know any better, you’d think I’ve been standing outside in the blistering soon to be winter air. Thank God I sat through the lengthy amount of time to allow her to put the braids in on Saturday night. With the way I’m covered in perspiration, any straightened or curled hairstyle would have left me looking like an extra left out of a Soul Glow commercial.

“It irritates me to have to call out at the last minute. That typically leaves production scrambling to try and fill in gaps. If I were in their shoes, I know it would be a headache for me, so I don’t like to do it to them. On Saturday, I e-mailed both Amy and Chip to let them know that I feel pretty shitty and to clear my schedule for the next two days pending further notice. I’m hoping it passes by then.”

The last time I had a cold, it was right at the very end of winter and it felt like nothing more than a bad headache and the sniffles. A couple of home remedies and a few over the counter products had me feeling much better within two or three days, but what I’m feeling now? I don’t know what the hell is going on. Rite Aid literally showed up to the medical office at the studio and offered the flu shot to everyone, through our insurances, as a curtesy, so it better not be that. I can’t stand getting injections, so it would be one hell of a disservice if I allowed them to inject that medication into me only for it to not work out in my favor.

“Are you going to go to the doctor?”

“Probably tomorrow. It’s too late to do any of that today. Once I drop Taylor off at the airport, I’ll head straight there.” Though I’m so accustomed to living on my own, I can admit to being sadden about Taylor heading out to Los Angeles tomorrow. It’s not that I’ve gotten used to her being around; it’s more so that I’ve enjoyed the company that she’s been to me for the past week. We always have incredible conversations over the phone about the most trivial of topics, but it’s been far more fulfilling and hilarious to be able to say all of those things to one another face to face. We’ve indulged in our love for classic cult black films, shared recipes between one another in my kitchen, and have taken New York City by a storm.

Even with Jesse being in town, it didn’t feel like the presence of her man overshadowed anything that we did together. Ice skating was better than I thought it would be because I was and still am quite rusty in that area. We did see the Radio City Christmas Spectacular and humorously took photographs sitting on Santa’s lap complimentary of the showrunners. Although I’ve seen it more times than I can count, we saw The Lion King on Broadway and then had far too many pitchers of Matusalem rum infused mojitos over at Havana Central on West 46th Street.

I nearly came face to face with the filthy pavement as I moved at the best speed I could offer to avoid the invasive TMZ camera crew awaiting our exit. In Hollywood, I suppose it’s controversial for a woman to be involved with a soon to be divorced television actor while he’s in a discomforting public battle with his soon to be ex-wife over alimony and joint custody of their children. Anywhere she goes, that narrative follows Taylor like a sinister stalker in the night and though her feelings run deep for the blue-eyed Chicago native, I know that she’s quietly growing tired of being the scapegoat for what is beyond her.

“You better go too. I know you. Sipping tea and taking spoons of Robitussin isn’t going to get the job done this time it seems.”

“I’m going. I’m going with a shit ton of questions about why the flu shot is a hoax. I’m not one of those conspiracy theory people, but I don’t know. I might have to start.”

“Take your illuminati ass home and get in the bed.”

“I’m not rich enough to be in the illuminati. They’ll probably be calling me when I make my first hundred million. I’m not there just yet, but I’m working on it.” I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t. Even a chuckle would have pulled more energy than I can exert at the moment. I’m currently questioning if I’ll even be capable of moving at a snail’s pace to make it out of the building with the next couple of minutes. I could have been gone already and yet I’m lingering around in this chair with hopes that my imagination will take me home. Where’s Glenda the Good Witch to instruct me to click the heels of my Jimmy Choo pumps so that I’ll be able to suddenly wake up in my bed in Edgewater?

“Get you a man that’s there already.” I knew she was going to say that. I just knew it. Anna will never not find it fascinating how I encounter countless men who earn hundreds of millions of dollars by running a ball around a field, court, or course.

In her words, I, more than the majority of the women in the world, have the perfect opportunity to live life lavishly and worry free by the way of someone else’s finances if I’d only open myself up to the opportunity of dating just one out of the many who flirtatiously attempt to garner some interest out of me. While my financial obligations are the last thing that I’m interested in a man handling for me, if only Anna knew what is going on in my life now.

“Yeah? So that he can think he’s entitled to stress me and all of his other women out because he’s providing materialistic shit? Girl, I refuse to allow a man to turn my head grey and cause bags to be up under my eyes sooner than it should be happening. No thanks. I’d rather be smiling in a Benz that I purchased than to be crying in one that he did.”

I’m naturally a giver. I give credit to my dad for instilling that quality into me. I’ve always struggling with taking or rather being gifted things. The majority of the time, all I wanted for birthdays and Christmas’ were new accessories needed for whatever sport I was playing at the time.

I never pestered either one of my parents to lace me in the latest Jordans, although my dad made sure to surprise me with them at least once a month. If he was due to leave town, he would leave enough money for my mother to handle it. Honor roll report cards always came with great gifts and while Celeste would often ask for the most expressive girly trinket she could think of, I never wanted anything. I was fine with a stack of pancakes from iHop and a day at the park.

What I did ask for was experiences. It never needed to be anything financially burdening or something that specifically catered to my taste alone. I was fine with exploring new exhibits at the Met or taking a random road trip to Philadelphia just for the hell of it. I loved walking around neighborhoods that I didn’t reside in to people watch and observe the different ways in which they express themselves and the culture that we all share.

I’ll never forget when we road on an Amtrak train to Washington, DC and stayed in the district for the weekend. I still consider that to be one of the best times of my life despite my sister’s ridiculous and pompous complaints about her boredom. Though she’s yet to admit it out loud, I know that she now undoubtedly regrets all that she said during that weekend because it was the last family trip, we ever had with him.

“All of his other women? Damn. Why did you have to put it like that?”

“Because men are vile creatures. If women are walking around talking about how much average men aren’t worth shit due to their antics, then use your imagination to think about what men with money and power are doing. I’m not saying all of them are dreadful, but I’ve heard far too much while working within this industry to write it all off as coincidences.” The last portion of my sentence barely made it out as my chest heaved up a rough cough. The furnace that only calmed for a mere couple of seconds ignited with a wild fire and sent a rush of warmth flushing through my chest while the rest of my weakening limps shivered.

“Okay, you need to go, because I’m not trying to get sick. You may not have any dick in your life at the moment, but I do, and I’m trying to get back to it with my health intact.”

“Whatever.”

Like a boxer in a ring attempting to peel himself off of the floor after a knockout, I pulled myself up and out of the comfort of the chair. With every step, my muscles stiffened and the aches throbbing from the sides of my body intensified unexpectedly. My Alexander Wang bag felt like a dozen bricks rested at it’s very bottom once I positioned it over my shoulder and it only slowed down my stride as I made my way to the awaiting SUV.

I could only silently thank God for Fred as he secured me inside the vehicle and warned me that he better not see me in the morning. Thankfully, I followed my gut and decided not to drive. If I were sitting in this parking lot in my own car at this very moment, I probably would have taken off this midnight black Moncler coat and used it as a blanket while I lay in the backseat awaiting a rescue that I never called for.

“Can you please turn up the heat just a bit more?” I’m sure I’m suffocating him but I can’t help that it feels like the temperature precipitously plummeted to ten degrees below zero. The sound of my teeth chattering against one another has surpassed the faint tunes coming from the radio.

“Sure, Ms. Nazaire.”

As the heat increased and swarmed me in the manner that I needed it to, I glanced down at my phone vibrating in my lap. The lone heart emoji was a clear signifier of who was attempting to contact me. He’s the only person in my phone not identified by his name and at this point, it is the most idiotic tactic to keep because I have more than enough photographs of him and the both of us together to implicate me in whatever may happen if we’re caught.

As soon as I slid my thumb across the bottom of the screen to answer, the splendor that is his face filled the frame of my screen. And just like that, I’d been reduced to speechlessness.

“I thought I told you not go to work this morning.” I certainly read the text message as soon as I opened my eyes this morning, but it did absolutely nothing to deter me from doing what I had to do. It was great advice but it had to be brushed off until I handled a number of things at the production studio this morning. Besides, it wasn’t as rough of a day as I thought it would be, effort wise. Aside from speaking throughout segments, we had no guests or anything major to cover.

“I’m staying home tomorrow. Also, look at how early I’m leaving today. It’s still the afternoon. I’m not doing the Podcast.”

The slight shaking of his head was brief and though he quickly stopped, I noticed it. I’m not sure if it’s in reference to this morning’s chosen defiance or the current state of frustration we’re both in for two totally different reasons. Despite my explanation about my occasional absentmindedness being a part of the reason why I needed to hurry home and write out a check for the nine-a.m. maintenance job my mother called to have done on her stove, I omitted the part that truly mattered most to the both of us.

I fear him.

My mind is with him whenever I’m not within his presence. My body yearns for the warmth that soothingly radiates from him whenever we’re within an inch of one another. I can eerily sense and feel him; emotionally and now physically. He evokes a sentiment within me that is at call unceasingly and has intertwined our lives in a manner that I never faced before or expected to come into my life at this point.

My body is now at his mercy. Just the tips of his fingers faintly grazing off the smooth surface of my skin awakens every aspect of me; sending my frame into an uncontrollable frenzy that only he knows how to tame. I don’t know what he did to me that night in New Orleans. I expected to be fucked; most men prefer to turn a woman over on her stomach to consciously strip away any intimacy that may be felt and emotionally clung to during and after those moments when their bodies are adjoined. Despite his unpredictable nature, I did cling to that repeated experience as something that I’d always endure. I should have known that what we shared would be everything but that.

He savored me; deliberately drawing out every single second of it in an effort to achieve a never-ending wordless oath that we’ll never be able to share with anyone else. His eyes bore into mine and spoke to me whenever his lips weren’t whispering into my ear in the midst of the groans spilling from them. My body clung to his, gratifying his silent plea to take possession of me in every way possible.

Our heartbeats created an identical medley as they thrashed against our chests in unison with the increase heat within our cores. I was no longer in control of myself. His flesh played as the remote; pushing buttons to leave me weeping and leaking. I believe I only slept for minutes. Though the clock read that it had been four hours later, it only felt like minutes because the feeling of him hadn’t subsided. If anything, he served as the gasoline to the flames as his tongue awakened me for what turned into another two rounds of him.

I am wordlessly at war with my evolving devotion to him; to us. What if I’m not enough? With the life that he lives, something better always comes along. What am I supposed to do when we’ve arrived to that point?

“You’re so hardheaded. You going out into the cold and being at work all day has most likely made your cold worse. You should have stayed in the bed today. Did you just leave?”

“A few minutes ago.”

“How do you feel?” He tugged on the neck of his hooded Givenchy sweater to loosen it’s pulled tightness around his neck and almond shaped eyes narrowed, intensifying his glare. He’d pull my card if I lied.

“Like shit, honesty. Everything hurts. It even hurts to breathe. I thought I’d be able to tough it out until I can see a doctor tomorrow, but I don’t know. I might have Taylor drive me over to Hackensack University Medical Center when I get home.” And just like that, he sat up from his lazy and laxed position on the couch. As his large palm brushed over the golden curls falling all over his forehead, he stood to his feet. He paces when he’s nervous but it was never my intention to provoke him to do so.

“You feel that bad? You want me to go with you?”

“Odell.” As great as that sounds, I shouldn’t have to explain why that can’t be. He already knows the answer to that.

“You’re going to the hospital.”

“Yes, so that I can speed up the process of getting some medication. I’ll be able to get prescriptions tonight rather than waiting until tomorrow. That’s all. It’s going to be an in and out thing. Also, you have an event tonight. Did you forget?” He’s heading into Manhattan to promote the launch of his Air Force I collaboration by speaking with fans and a couple of groups of kids who won a contest to be able to meet him and have their shoes autographed. I know he doesn’t want to miss that because being a great role model for the youth is one of the primary reasons why he does what he does. He loves kids, so disappointing them for no legit reason doesn’t make much sense.

“I didn’t forget. If I don’t go, the least I can do is come and stay at your house so that I can make sure you’re taken care of until you’re better.”

“And spread my germs to you?”

“What is it with you and your love for being difficult? You hate to cooperate.” I’ve heard that before. Actually, I’ve heard it far too many times. It’s been said that I have an answer for everything before even hearing the complete scenario or question being asked of me. I can be somewhat of an overthinker. Well, not somewhat.

I am an overthinker, but I’m not admitting that out loud because it’ll give people the ammunition to call me out on it whenever they feel like it and I’m not with the shits. It is never my intention to do it to be difficult or uncooperative as he just called it. I tend to try and side with logic first before I jump into anything. Unnecessarily spreading my germs isn’t logical. Besides, I tend to go and lay up at my mom’s place whenever I’m not feeling my greatest. She doesn’t always welcome me with open arms, but ultimately, who else do I have to lean on despite her resistance about that?

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. It’s annoying as hell too.” He rolled his eyes to put even more emphasis on what he had to say.

“If you come, don’t complain when you start sniffling and feeling like every part of your body is aching.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll take the risk.”

“What time does your event start?” I nearly dropped the phone down onto the carpeted flooring as another rough cough poured out of me. I’m convinced my lungs are going to suddenly fly out of my mouth and land in my lap.

“You sound really bad.”

“I know. What time does the event start?”

“Seven.”

“Oh, you have time. I can’t believe I caught this stupid cold. I was supposed to start my Christmas shopping this weekend. Speaking of, what do you want?” I’ve been trying to think of gifts for him. There’s one in particular that I already have hiding in my closet. I consider that one to be the big gift.

Patek Philippe is a family-owned Genevan luxury watch manufacturer. Their watches are considered to be among the best in the world: full stop. Of all of the other impeccable Swiss watch manufactures with distinguished statuses and sophisticated watches, Patek Philippe has driven itself to the forefront of them all. While it would have been much easier to purchase him a Rolex, he deserves something that is as inimitable as he is. The “Ribbon Joaillerie” watch and its distinctive diamond embellishments that orbit its surface in a glimmering never-ending loop stole my heart as soon as I laid my eyes on it. The spiraling circles of diamonds beautifying the dial was what immediately made me hand over my Citigroup Chairman Card to secure it. It’s the first time I’ve ever spent six figures on a man.

“Supreme stuff. It doesn’t have to be any specific item. Oh, and maybe some art or something.”

“Art or something? Like a painting or a sculpture?”

“Anything. Actually, I want it to be a picture of you. A painting or something of that sort.”

“A painting of me? Are you kidding me?” That’s arguably the most narcissistic gift I could ever give anyone. I can only imagine how much internal cringing I’d be doing while boldly requesting for a painting of myself to gift to be my man. Actually, a canvas painting of Heather, Jazzy, and himself together would be breathtaking. I love that idea so much more.

“No. I’d love that.”

“And where exactly are you going to hang it up? You currently have a camera crew in your house once a week.” He is presently in the midst of filming a docu-series with Lebron James and Maverick Carter’s sports-media company Uninterrupted. Though the majority of it will focus on his comeback throughout the next season, they are filming coverage of his recovery from the ankle injury and his life off of the gridiron.

“In my bedroom. They don’t go in there.”

“We’ll see.”

“Ain’t no we’ll see. That’s what I want. Oh, and you in one of those sexy ass Mrs. Claus outfits.”

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.” I’m not sure if the driver is focusing on our conversation, but if he is, I’m certainly embarrassed now. His laughter might have made it even worse.

“I’ll call and check on you in a bit.”

“Okay.”

I attempted to take a nap but the physical discomfort served as a disruption to my mental state and kept me awake the remainder of the ride to my home. Traffic wasn’t as disorderly as it usually is during this time of the day, which allowed me to arrive just fifteen minutes over the nearly two-hour timeframe that it’s supposed to take me to get into Edgewater.

“You’re finally home!”

The way Taylor’s voice vibrated off of the walls almost made it seem like my house is completely empty. It was so piercing.

“Yeah.”

I’m not sure what she decided to cook but it smelled appetizing from the moment I stepped into the door. Maybe it’s Italian.

“I watched a bit of the show before making a Whole Foods run. Oh, and I found this bottle of wine upstairs in your room. I hope you don’t mind, because I couldn’t resist.” It was one of the remaining bottles of wine Odell bought me during our weekend getaway. I decided to pack it and take it home.

“You’re drunk?” That’s the last thing that I need her to be.

“I wouldn’t say drunk. I’m feeling pretty good though. Incredible, actually.”

She’s drunk.

“I want you to come with me to the ER, so that I can get checked out for this cold and get prescriptions for it. I wanted you to drive but since you had drinks, I’ll do it.”

“You feel that bad? Oh my God.”

“I’d just rather go now instead of waiting to go to the doctors tomorrow.”

“Let’s go. I just have to grab my coat. I told you to stay home this morning.” If I had the energy, I would have gone upstairs to change into whatever sweatsuit within close reach but I’m not walking up there. I’ve barely stepped away from the door.

“Taylor.” Part of her hazelnut toned wool trench coat hung off of her body as she rushed in my direction. As I nodded my head in the direction of the wine glass in her hand, she took a glance at it.

“Oh.” Before she put it down, the remaining contents inside of it went down her throat. If we both weren’t notorious for finishing entire bottles of wine on our own, I would have thought that something stressful or a man were driving her to drink so heavily today.

You good?

I read the message as I stood at the very top of my porch.

Yeah. Headed there now. Taylor’s drunk, so I’m going to drive.

Of all the days for her to get drunk, it just had to be this one.

Drunk? The sun hasn’t even gone down yet. I’m just going to meet you there.

As I slid into the passenger seat, apprehension immediately caused my eyes to bulge out of my face. His stubbornness will probably be the one thing that’ll always make me want to reprimand him.

You better not.

I-80 West was the fasted route. It took me to Exit 64B within seven minutes. As we walked through the parking lot, I slipped Taylor one of the cough drops I had in my pocket so they wouldn’t frown upon the whiff of the alcohol oozing from her breath any time she opened her mouth up to speak and I sprayed her coat with the mini bottle of perfume I keep in my purse to further mask it.

It’s very seldom that I use my status as a trump card for perks. Often times, it just happens and I go along with the flow. In this case, I used it. One autograph for the registration clerk served as a fast pass through the paperwork to process me through the emergency room and straight into triage. The hundred and two fever and slightly raised blood pressure rose the severity of my flu like symptoms to somewhat of an urgent case though I’d beg to differ. Luckily for me, the examination room was built to only fit two patients and thus far, I’m the only one in it.

“Did you see that bald guy nurse?”

“What bald nurse?”

“The one who walked past us out in the hallway. I’m not even into bald guys but he’s hot.” Like a child in a store, her curiosity kept her out of the seat next to the bed, and urged her to walk around examining everything in sight. Though she didn’t touch much, she looked on and read off whatever she thought I’d be just as interested in knowing about. Now I think she’s starting to see shit, because there was no bald nurse in that hall way. If she’s talking about who I assume she’s saw, that was a woman.

“Right in here?”

That voice couldn’t be mistaken no matter how much I desired to be hallucinating in a reaction to whatever drug they intend to give me for the pain I’m feeling. It’s that soft depth filled tone that plays like the sweetest medley in my dreams when I’m resting and fills my thoughts at random moments throughout the day when I am diligently executing every task on my schedule. It evokes chills and a throbbing within my center that nears me to the point of erupting.

I could choke him right now.

Behind a visibly annoyed Ben, he appeared in the doorway barely discreet in his black and vivid yellow attire. The Supreme beanie on his head barely covered his signature platinum blonde curls and casual dreads as they loosely hung out of the very front of it. His light caramel skin was without a single blemish as it always is.

God, he’s beautiful.

“Hey, big sister Sarai. I heard my favorite sister was in the hospital and I rushed here right away. I was hanging out with my boy, so I figured I’d bring him with me.” Both of my eyebrows rose as my head dropped back. Ben slowly panned his eyes to Odell and instantly rolled them in response to the nonchalant shrugging of his broad shoulders. What the hell is he talking about?

“Ben told them he was your brother so we could get in. I mean, it was either that or I was gon’ say that I’m your husband.”

“I’m going to fuck you up. You do know that, right?” If I had the energy, I would do it right now. His rebelliousness is absolutely pointless within this moment. It’s a trait that I’ve always admired about him from afar and now that admiration is coming back like a thief in the night to haunt me.

“I’m so confused. Maybe I’m a little drunker than I thought. What are you two doing here?” Taylor wagged her finger like a scolding mother as she twisted her head back and forth to take in the additional presence within the room. I had no set date or specific timeframe for when I intended to explain what’s been going on to her, but I planned to do it at some point. We share just about everything but I’m still trying to navigate all of this and figure it out on my own, which is why I’m purposefully avoiding any additional opinions.

“I’m going to sit in the car. Ya’ll two motherfuckers are annoying with this sneaking shit.” The hint of playfulness in his tone did not match the expression on his face. While my lover found it to be all so hilarious, a confused Taylor glared at me with a questioning expression that I did not want to have to answer to. I never thought I’d ever say it, but I was sad to see Ben walk out. If anything, I needed him to remain in place to be the comedic relief or better yet the distraction from the verbal questionnaire that is sure to come from my friend.

“The doctor came in here yet? What did he say?” As his large palm meshed into my forehead to serve as his own personal thermometer, I smacked it out of my way.

“Why don’t you listen?”

“I told you that I was coming. Don’t act surprised.”

“And I told you not to come.”

“And I didn’t listen. What’s next?” My frustration rose with every word that slipped past his supple lips.

“Since when are ya’ll such close friends? Like three months ago, you were ready to argue with me about why you two couldn’t be cool and now you’re the best of friends? What?” She finally flopped down in the chair that was in place for her to relax in and she looked on between the two of us as if we were two guilty souls. I may be the only guilty one.

“Sarai Nazaire?” A middle-aged white woman donning blue scrubs and a white lab coat cheerily entered the room with a chart in her hand and a stethoscope loosely hanging around her neck. I faintly raised my hand to single myself out so she wouldn’t confuse me with Taylor.

“I’m Dr. Shepard.”

“Oh snap. Like Grey’s Anatomy?” Why did I bring Taylor?

“Yes, just like that. I get that all the time. I’m not Meredith though. I’m Dr. Jane Shepard.”

“Nice to meet you Dr. Shepard.” I didn’t extend my hand to her because hers aren’t gloved and I’ve been using mine to cover my mouth during the coughing spells.

“So, it says here that you’ve been having flu like symptoms. I see the hundred and two fever. You’re visibly sweating. Tell me anything else you’re been feeling and for how long.”

“I start feeling sick a few days ago and it just got progressively worse. I feel chills, aching muscles, fatigue, a horrible headache, my nose is stuff up.”

“Don’t forget the sore throat, baby.” I was getting to it before he interrupted.

“Baby?” Oh my God. I should have let her finish off the rest of that bottle without any interruptions.

“Have you been taking anything?”

“Tylenol and cold medication. Robitussin DM.”

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“I’m going to take a listen to your lungs. You mind unbuttoning your blouse for me?”

“No.” Odell reached his hands in for the small buttons on the Zara dress shirt covering the upper portion of me and I rapidly smacked his hands down.

She only needed me to unravel the first few buttons so she’d be able to easily reach her hand down into my top to access my chest and back.

“You’re definitely congested. Are you allergic to any medications?”

“No.”

“Based upon the date of your last period, I have to ask, do you think that you could be pregnant right now?”

“Oh, dear God no. Absolutely not.” Taylor’s abrupt answer and laughter was nearly condescending. We’ve had far too many conversations about kids being something we’ll worry about later on down the line because we have so many aspirations that we’re working towards accomplishing now.

If a sewing needle suddenly dropped onto the floor, it would have sounded off like a vibrant bass within a stadium due to the stillness within the room. All eyes panned down on me while I had every urge to unexpectedly combust into a gust of nothingness so that I wouldn’t have to expose the anxiety I’ve been dealing with since we boarded the private jet to leave New Orleans.

My periods have always been slightly irregular and may sometimes skip a month, but God only knows how much I did not need one of those skips to happen this month. I haven’t been on birth control in three years. I decided to stop taking the pill because I had no use for it anymore and wanted to regulate my hormones and cycles. It’s been smooth sailing ever since because I haven’t had any men in my bed and I haven’t been in any of theirs until now. I’ve always been careful. Always. Even with the few years I spent in a relationship, I’ve never had unprotected sex until I shared my body with the man sitting at the foot of this bed.

“I….”

What was once one set of questioning eyes, turned into three, but all I could focus on was his. I awaited the grimace, but it never showed itself within his facial expression. Much like everyone else, he was awaiting the answer that would involve his fate just as much as it would mine.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I’m just not one hundred percent sure.”

And there it is. My reality. I truly don’t know. I’ve driven past a few Walgreens, Rite Aid, and CVS stores since it all happened and my lack of courage kept me from going inside to purchase what would give me a verdict to either ease or intensify the stress. Back in Louisiana, what should have been a trip to a pharmacy for a Morning After pill when the sun began peaking beyond the curtains and cascading down on us turned into yet another escapade of him filling me again.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?”

“Taylor!”

“That’s not a problem. We’ll collect a urine sample to measure your HCG level. It’ll be quick. A nurse should be in the room within the next two minutes or so with a cup. It’s just protocol so that we’re on the safe side when administering medication to you. She’s also going to do a rapid influenza test so that we can verify those flu symptoms you’re having. Your symptoms align with it, but we still have to run the test. She’s going to swab the back of your nose.” 

“Okay.”

“In the meantime, just relax. Once we get the results back, we’ll proceed from there. Sounds good?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

The nurse couldn’t come with the plastic cup fast enough. I nearly fell onto the floor as I leapt out of the bed once she did. Locking myself in the bathroom is what eased the spell of anxiety being triggered by all eyes focusing in on me. What should have been a two to three-minute process turned into fifteen as I sat there wallowing in my thoughts. I never wanted my apprehension to be on display in front of him. I didn’t need any of what I’ve been dealing with being a conversation until it was absolutely necessary.

“You okay baby?” His knock was light but I could undoubtedly sense his urgency.

“I’m fine.” It’s far too late to hide now.

“The nurse is back. You want me to give the cup to her?” This man wants me to hand over a sample of my urine to him? Seriously?”

“No. I’m coming out.” 

Once I handled the hygienic aspect of things, I finally stepped out of the bathroom with the cup wrapped into two pieces of paper towel and I timidly handed it over to the nurse. Once I was seated again, she swabbed my nose just as the doctor informed me, she would.

“Thank you. I’ll be quick.”

I wished she would have offered to take me with her. I wouldn’t have minded walking to whatever laboratory that she’s going to drop that off to.

“How long has this been going on?”

Her lean leg crossed over the other and Taylor sat back with a knowing smirk on her face. Her haughtiness in figuring out the obvious would have been hilarious at some other time.

“Months.” His answer came with a shrug. His tone was so blasé that it nearly made it seem like the entire world knows about this and she’s the only one who’s late to the party.

“Months? You hid this for months?”

“T, can we have the room for just a minute or two?”

“So, you can talk about your baby?” The lingering headache seemed to strengthen at what she thought was some sardonic joke. Her irritation about being left in the dark is justified but now is not the time to admonish everything that I am. I’d rather she stand before me and release her frustrations in a private setting and away from him.

“Taylor, please?”

“I’ll go. I’m going to the waiting room. While there, should I think about baby shower themes? Maybe Tinkerbell if it’s a girl and Finding Nemo if it’s a boy? Oh no. I know. A New York Giants theme sounds so much better; a little cliché but better.”

“Taylor.”

“I’m going.”

She tenaciously cut her eyes at Odell sparking laughter from him in response.

“Cute though. Really cute.”

Those were her last words as she disappeared down the hall, finally leaving us in the privacy that I needed. The lack of commotion in the hallway kept my attention focused on his striking face. I thought I would have seen a rush of nurses running a gurney down the long hall and into emergency surgery. If not that, then maybe a crying baby and a fretted mother who can’t seem to figure out why her child has been crying all night long. I need a distraction

“I don’t want you to be upset with me. I should have been more careful. I…”

“Sarai. Upset with you about what? The unknown? I’m not upset with you. I’m not upset at all. I’m here. I’m right here with you. It’s not just you.”

“I know but…”

“What’s the but for? Whatever happens, happens. We’ll be fine.” Will we be? I don’t believe I’m with child but hypothetically speaking, what happens if I am? How do I explain a sudden pregnancy to a man that no one knows about? I am not Mary and this is not the Immaculate Conception. How do we navigate still being in the stages of exploring and learning all there is to know about one another while preparing to be parents to a child that we did not plan?

Both of his hands reached for my thighs. This time, I had no energy to smack them away as they began a pacifying caress. I just want to go to sleep. Is that too much to ask for? In the midst of what should be a temporary illness, the weight of erratic decisions rests on my shoulders and is further deteriorating my mood. He’s in the prime of his life. If people aren’t talking about Tom Brady, they’re talking about him. He’s not ready for any of this. He doesn’t need this.

“Relax.”

“What?”

“You keep tensing up. I can feel it. Relax.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

If it were, I would have already been home sleeping.

“It’s as simple as we want it to be. I don’t mind being your Big Daddy and someone else’s daddy. It’s cool with me. A kid that looks like us? We can both retire now and use the kid for money. Plus, we’re both athletic, so our kid is bound to be a pro athlete. Yeah, our retirement plan is set.” Every muscle within my upper core clenched to an unbearable tightness and yet I laughed anyway. With my mouth being open, I know I’m sharing every bit of this virus with him. However, his words tickled me in a manner that I needed. I haven’t laughed all day long. If anyone is more than capable of making me do so, it’s him.

“My what?”

“Your Big Daddy.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You sound like Stephen A. Smith. Ridiculous. Conspicuous. Prosperous. Expeditiously. He’s forever using some unnecessarily big word to describe his frustrations.” The joke about my fellow ESPN brethren amused me even more. He is absolutely right and it’s what we all love about Stephen A. He’s animated, exaggerated, and his outbursts about the eternally cursed New York Knicks will stand the test of time for sports fans. I constantly have a good laugh when I stop by his dressing room for conversations. He’s been a mentor to me from the moment we’ve met and my admiration for him is boundless.

“Don’t talk about Stephen A. He’s great.”

“He stays on my ass though. He tends to be hot and cold with me. One minute, he’s praising my talent and in the next breath, he’s tired of me.”

“He appreciates you. I promise you that. Steven A. is tough, but he believes you’re the heart of the team. It’s why he can be so critical.”

“I watched the discussion ya’ll had about my pending contract situation. You really think I should be the highest paid receiver?” He’s the most explosive one.

“We can make arguments about Antonio Brown and Julio Jones, but when people think of wide receivers, your name is the first name to come out of most people’s mouths. You have the highest selling jersey of any receiver in the league and you’re the one who fills those seats at the Giants stadium. You have been the heart of the team’s offense for the past three years. Prior to your injury, they averaged twenty-three points in three games when you were on the field for the most snaps. They averaged thirteen point six points when you weren’t out there. You’re worth almost ten points per game with your ability to take a short gain and turn it into a long touchdown. Teams literally run their defenses strictly off stopping you. Get paid. You deserve it.”

All I could see is pearly white porcelain as his eyes further narrowed the more his smile spread across his face. As soon as he leaned in for a kiss, I drew my head back.

“Germs.”

“The way you know your shit is sexy as fuck. You want my last name?”

“Shut up, you…”

Dr. Shepard stepping back into the room ceased my reply. And just like that, my nerves were rattled all over again.

“Well, the pregnancy test is negative. Flu test is positive. I’m not sure which way you wanted those results to go, but that’s the verdict.” I know it was supposed to be witty but it didn’t register as such as I signed in a relief that wasn’t as fulfilling as I thought it would be. No, I’m not ready to be a mother. I’m not in that space just yet. More than anything, what I’m now focused on is the person who would have been alongside me in the journey if the results were the opposite. I would not have been alone. I commend him for that.

“I got a flu shot.”

“When did you get it?”

“A little less than two weeks ago.”

“It takes the body about two weeks after the vaccination to develop immune protection. You probably were exposed to influenza viruses sometime since then. Also, there are different strains of the flu. The vaccination only protects you against certain ones. You may have been exposed to one that is very different from whatever ones the vaccination is designed to protect you against.”

“Well screw whoever was around me and had been sick.” She and my man shared laughter at my words.

I’m serious.

“We’re going to give you Tamiflu. The directions on how to take it will be in your discharge instructions and the pharmacy will give you some too. You can take Tylenol for the fever. Rest. You need a lot of that. No work for a couple of days because you have a ton of germs right now. Hot foods and drinks. Steamy showers will help with congestion and the stuffy nose. Vitamin C is great, so orange juice and they have the cough drop like ones. I emphasize rest. Getting rid of the flu is really a waiting game.”

“You hear that Sarai? Rest. Lots of rest.” If I had no class, my middle finger would have been up and towards him.

“If you feel like your symptoms are persisting, come back.”

“Thank you, Dr. Shepard.”

“The pleasure is all mine. The nurse will be back with the forms and prescriptions.”

As soon as we were left alone again, I immediately slipped back into my coat for much needed warmth.

“I’m about to head out so I can make it into the city on time. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sending Renee over so that she can make you some soup or something. So, be expecting her. You need something from the store?”

“I can make the soup myself.”

“Anything you need from the store?” See? This is what I mean.

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Alright, so I’ll see you when I get back. Be in the bed.”

“Uhm.” He knew I’d swerve his lips, so he softly planted his kisses on my warm forehead.

“See you in a bit.”

The nightfall car ride to Walgreens and finally to my home entailed of more conversing than I wanted to have. I was nearly ordered to confirm and deny many of her assumptions, feed into her baseless jokes about a baby that she now knows is non-existent, and defend myself against my supposed lying by omission as we spoke on the phone while I was away. She then proceeded to take credit for our relationship; citing the Bleacher Report party run in as all being a part of her master plan. I beg to differ. I still think it’s a coincidence that he saw me there, but I’ll let her run with that fairytale if it makes her feel better and keeps her off of my case.

“I’m going to lay down.”

“As you should. It’s not like you have to do anything anyway. Your man’s chef is currently making you tea and soup.”

“Taylor.”

“And he arranged for a driver to take me to the airport tomorrow so that you don’t have to get out of bed.”

“Taylor.”

“And he shoots up your club.”

“You know what, goodnight Taylor.”

Lavender; I doused everything in it. I lathered my body up with Dove’s Purely Pampering Relaxing Body Wash while in the shower and spent an extended time inhaling the steam to loosen my nasal passages. Once I was dried off, I moisturized my skin with whipped shea butter fused with lavender essential oil. I lit a match to my Joe Malone London Lavender & Lovage candle, and finally sprayed my pillow cases with Bath & Body Works lavender pillow spray. If I don’t get the best sleep of my life after all of that, I’ll know that I’m suffering from insomnia.

Renee’s coconut ginger carrot chicken soup and the cup of ginger tea certainly made me think of my mother because it’s her key remedy for illnesses. The rich flavoring and natural spice of the ginger eased the congestion discomfort in my chest.

I opted out of the television because it would only deserve as a distraction to the rest, I not only needed but wanted. Unfortunately, what I thought was going to be a long night of slumber ended up being nothing more than on and off naps.

Bergamot, cedar musk, and hints of sage superseded the rest inducing scent that once filled my room. With only a hint of moonlight peaking beyond the white curtain, the man of my affection quietly dropped what appeared to be a duffle bag onto the floor and began to shuffle around the open space within my bedroom to sort himself out.

“I’m not sleeping.” His pace was slower than his usual because he didn’t want to ruin whatever sleep he assumed I was getting.

“You should be.”

“I keep taking naps.”

“You hungry or something?”

“No. Not really. You?”

“I’m good. There’s more than just soup downstairs. I had something before I came up.”

“How was the event?”

“It was nice. The kids were great. They enjoyed themselves.” With every piece of jewelry that he removed; I could hear it clinking against the dresser as he placed them down one by one. “You smell great.”

“Thank you.” I love when he chuckles. It’s so lighthearted and innocent, especially following a compliment. I always want to hug him right after. It’s no different now.

“You look good too.” Yellow against his skin is defining. The whole time he sat with me in that examination room, I couldn’t look away. Even in this darkness, I still cannot do so. My body is riddled with a confusion that I cannot define. I can feel every single flu symptom there is and yet, my nipples are impulsively stiffening against this t-shirt of his that I’m wearing. The prickling in my thighs is increasing with every article of clothing that he removes. I should make him go into the guest room.

“Thank you. Go to sleep.”

“I’m trying.”

His presence kept my eyes open and trailing behind his every move until his almost bare frame slid under the covers and alongside me. I’ve warned him more times than I can count about my germs and yet here he is, basking in them.

“Thank you.”

As he always does when he’s in my bed, he took two of the pillows on his side and tossed them towards my side to lower himself to his liking. I’ve always been someone who loves to lay on way too many of them. It’s probably why I wake up with neck pain every once and a while.

“For what?”

“Taking care of me today.”

“You’re stubborn as hell but it’s what I want to do. It’s my pleasure.”

“Thank you for dealing with my stubbornness too.”

“Of course, baby.”

“And thank you for that yellow coat because I’m keeping it.” That amused him.

“You can have it.”

“Can I have a kiss too?”

“Nah. Germs.”

I used one of the pillows he tossed to whack him in the head. How is he so adorable and maddening all at once?

“Hey, Sarai.”

“Hm?”

His arm extended and slowly snaked around my waist to draw me closer. The skin of his legs melted into mine as they intertwined.

“No Beckham babies today, but later on down the line, for sure, right?”

Beckham babies. Plural. Maybe two boys? Possible two girls? How about the best of both worlds? More than two is out of the question. Twins would ideal. It’s a one shot and done, deal. Actually, no. Two at one time sounds like madness. The genes are strong within his family. I don’t think they stand a chance of genetically inheriting any of my traits. I’ll literally be birthing clones of him in either male or female form. It’s hilarious and yet warming to ponder about.

“Right.”

His lips then met mine.

[iamsoneurotic]

Enter, Levi: The Final Chapter Part II

8 Months later is better than never I guess.

I had intended to write a second post about Levi’s birth (as I did with both Milo and Noli), but as it turns out, free time isn’t really a thing when you have 3 kids. Go figure. Anyway, where did I leave off… The boy was born.

The C-section left Rachael bedridden for the duration of our stay at the hospital, which is pretty typical. From what I’ve been told, it’s not so bad - the doctors load you up with pain meds and you’re out the door in a couple of days, ready to take on the world with a baby in one hand and a bottle full of pills in the other. Well, due to an allergy to Ibuprofen, Rach was denied the good drugs and had to settle for a less effective Tylenol substitute which may have been less effective than somebody flicking her in the ear to distract her from the pain in her healing wound. To make matters even worse, she was fighting a horrible cough and every hack of the lung made her feel like she was being gutted like a fish.

As sort of an icing on the crap cake, her IV slipped out of her vein at some point during the first night and caused her arm to swell and rash. Her stay was divine to say the least.

Speaking of crap cakes, guess who was on diaper duty by default! Well that’s nothing new, I’m usually on diaper duty just because my lovely wife secretly loathes me (we have a dog now, by the way. Guess who gets the honor of cleaning up his little backyard nuggets). This particular series of diaper changes, however, stands out more than the others because Levi pooped a mountain’s worth over the next few weeks. Not exaggerating. He went through every phase on the newborn poo color wheel in a matter of hours. Something was clearly afoot, I’ve been around this whole breastfeeding business for a while now and I know for a fact he was exporting more than he was taking in. Pretty sure milk doesn’t have corn in it either.

There’s a video of his first changing… I can’t even post it. It’s just that awful. I don’t even know why we would have filmed something like that in the first place.

One last poo item to discuss - there was one nurse who was a complete POS. Her shift consisted of coldly telling Rachael to suck it up and walk so they could discharge us and berating her about everything she did ranging from how she breastfed Levi to, I don’t know, the way she wore her hair that day. She was a real piece of work. Not sure if there’s a polite way to wish Ebola on somebody, but I’m all ears.

There was a bright side to Rachael being confined to her bed, it meant I got more time to hold Levi. Given the stress of his birth, I had no desire to ever put him down - thank goodness he only weighed a little over 6lbs, our lightest one yet!

I noticed while holding him that he bore a striking resemblance to Don Rickles.

Leading up to the birth, I had “joked” that I was looking forward to the time away from the kids while we stayed at the hospital. I was wrong, I missed my babies. Before we had left, Noli was really upset that we were leaving him - that image of him sitting on the steps broken hearted was burned into my brain the whole visit. Milo didn’t seem to care much, he gets away with more when daddy’s not home (Noli was yet to figure this out). So after 2 days of not showering, Rachael approved of my release so I could go home, see the boys, scrub the thin layer of Italian grease off of my flesh, and let her mom see the baby for a while.

It was a nice little visit. The boys and I wrestled, built Legos, and I showed them pictures of the baby. Noli was needier than usual and didn’t like that I had to leave again to go back to the hospital, luckily my mom stopped by to take the boys to her place so I could catch a break for a few… For the record, however, I didn’t take a break for fear that Rachael would sense my relaxation and unleash the hordes of hell upon me.

Advice for any new dads out there: NEVER enjoy yourself while your wife is in pain or holding a child. Don’t close your eyes, don’t smile, don’t sit comfortably in a chair, and if you absolutely HAVE to eat, make sure the food gives you indigestion… But not diarrhea, because woman have figured out that bathrooms are a man’s place of peace. There can be no peace.

…

I’m literally not kidding.

Long story short - she thought I was gone too long and as penance, I bought her Pei Wei and she reluctantly showed mercy.

I screwed a number of things up with this birth. First was posting Levi’s picture to Facebook before Rachael had even seen him, second was having the audacity to take a shower at our house, and the third thing happened after being discharged from the hospital. When we got home, I rushed the baby into the house so he wouldn’t get cold. Inside the house my parents were waiting with cameras to film the boys’ reaction to the new addition. Well, in my haste, I failed to wait for Rachael (who was hobbling up the sidewalk in excruciating c-section pain) - depriving her of the opportunity to see the boys’ reaction live. I’m currently serving a life sentence in the doghouse for my foolish ways.

All screw-ups aside, the evening went well. Noli, who we were most nervous about adjusting to a newborn, held the baby in his lap (with heavy amounts of assistance). It was a giant relief. Milo loved the kid at first sight, 8 months later he’s still in love with the little guy… I’m a proud dad. My parents went home, Rach attempted sleep, and late that evening I wrote  “Enter, Levi: The Final Chapter Part I”. A masterpiece in biographical storytelling.

For the next few days Rachael was stuck sleeping on the couch until her incision healed more; getting out of bed was too painful. So we spent our evenings watching the Winter Olympics while Levi slept on our chests. In the mornings my mother-in-law would treat us to fresh grapefruit & oatmeal breakfasts and I would grab us Starbucks on the way back from dropping the boys off at school. It was a really nice couple of days… I even finally buckled down and got my Texas Driver’s License! Only took me 3 years to make the effort.

We nicknamed Levi “Popeye” because he would always wink his one eye and make scrunchy faces. In retrospect, I should have thought to tape a little pipe to his pacifier. Dangit! During this time, I discovered that the sound of a crying baby isn’t as horrific sounding as it had been in the past. Milo’s cries would send me into a panic, and Noli’s would just irritate me… I find Levi’s cries on the adorable end of the spectrum. It’s probably because this will be our last kid (assuming all goes according to plan). I’m taking in the infancy more, trying to make it last and enjoy every moment. Sure, I still get frustrated - that’s what babies do to you, but I’m enjoying the ride more… I know I’ll miss it. I still wish I could pull baby Milo out of the photos on my phone and hold him.

If I’m not writing a ton about Levi in this post, it’s because the kid was just so darn chill as a newborn. He didn’t give me much more material than “Awww, how cute”... And he was definitely cute (still is - all my babies are).

While both boys were great with Levi, Noli had gotten increasingly needy. I’m not going to lie, it was downright infuriating sometimes to deal with it. I took him out one day to give him some one on one time, the plan was to buy him a ‘gift from Levi’. I told him Levi gave me money to buy him a toy (kids are so gullible!)... I should have specified how much money Levi actually gave me because $60 later we had a brand new Lego Spiderman play set which took me an hour to build and only 10 seconds for Noli to destroy. 10 glorious seconds of him leaving me alone.

The nightmare was only beginning.

Rachael’s mom had stuck around for a few weeks to help out around the house while we got acclimated to all the changes. The hope was that anything that could have gone wrong would have gone wrong while she was here and we’d have the extra hands… But Murphy’s Law is real, kids. Thanks to the joys of school, Noli came down with the flu a day or two before my mother-in-law was leaving. Just the thing you want around a newborn! And there would be no extra hands. Before we even got home from the hospital, Rach began packing her bags to stay with my folks until our house was no longer contaminated with disgusting little boy germs (Milo was beginning to run a fever as well).

Rachael and Levi staying with my parents didn’t ease my worries, however. The boys are constantly sticking their grubby little fingers all over my face (why their fingers are always moist I’ll never understand). The fingers occasionally go in my mouth because kids are weird and have no boundaries. That mouth is incapable of not being on baby Levi’s face… Because those cheeks. All I could think was that I had given my newborn baby boy the flu and it was an awful feeling. I had shown no signs of having the flu, but it takes a few days before symptoms even start, so everything was up in the air… Just like the flu running rampant in my house. It was a waiting game and I hate waiting.

So it was me, the boys and my mother-in-law, and I only had her help for about two days before she had to go back home. Thank God for moms is all I have to say. She made sure we all took everything we needed, when we needed to take it, and I’m pretty sure she kept me flu-free, because (spoiler) I never caught it and luckily neither did Rach or Levi.

Those few days, however, were difficult for an entirely non-flu-related reason… Needy Noli. By this point he had already been driving me nuts with the constant need for attention, but the flu just made it worse. Today I was looking through the texts Rachael and I were sending each other and every other message was me going out of my mind while Noli stalked me around the house. It was like one of those dreams where you’re being chased by some unknown entity and it always finds you no matter where you hide. You’d think the flu would have destroyed his sense of smell, but somehow it was heightened. There was no escape.

All he wanted was to play legos… Legos which by now were CRAWLING with flu germs. Every click those blocks made when I connected them was like the empty click of a revolver in a deadly game of Russian Roulette. Sitting in that pool of Legos (we have a LOT of Legos) was like swimming in a pool of flu-juice. I swear some of them were wet.

Then my mother-in-law flew home… and it was just me and the flu-zombies.

Thank goodness for my Dad. He took one for the team and later that evening risked his good health to save me from the inevitable misery that awaited me with those kids. The man is fearless. My memory of that week is a little hazy, but I’m 80% sure he arrived via horse. When he got to the house, he told me to get out and enjoy myself for a few while he spent time with the little petri dishes. Even Noli let me leave the house! So I grabbed my iPad and booked it to Starbucks where I spent the next 2 hours sipping Lattes, drawing, and watching videos of Levi that Rach would send me.

The week was no doubt hard - dodging sneezes, dealing with neediness and the usual parenting frustrations… But the hardest part was being away from Levi. I spent 9 months waiting for the little stinker and barely got to know him before he left me for a week. There was a constant stream of videos and photos coming from Rach, but it only made it harder. There was one evening when Rach stopped by with some food and I snuck out to see her. She had Levi in the van and I had to just stare at him from the window (as I was still unsure if I was sick or not). It was torture.

Rach on the other hand was living the good life at Hotel De’Marianelli with my mom. Pampering, baby assistance, hot meals… and a Boxer who quickly became a therapy dog. When Rach arrived at the house that first night, she was a nervous wreck. She started crying when she came in the door and Roxy (the Boxer) ran up to her, put her head on Rachael’s chest and just stared at her. She’d lick the baby’s feet constantly and anytime Levi woke up from a nap crying, Roxy would book it into the room to check on him.

Dogs are the best. Not to speak ill of the dead, but our cat would have just pee’d on the crib.

Fast forwarding ahead, the boys started feeling better, I never got sick, and seeing as my dad’s work was finished, he went back home… I seem to remember him riding off on a chariot of fire. The details are hazy.

One last thing remained… The disinfecting of the Legos.

20% of them ended up down the drain. I hope they never return.

Finally my baby came home. I refused to let him go that night… Or the next night. If I could lactate, Rach would have never gotten him back.

I make good babies. ~ M.

[fluffyllamas-23]

New Year’s Eve

Introducing my new OCs (because I have zero self control).

Hailey is coming down with something, she can feel it in her bones.  It’s not that bad right now, it’s just a heavy ache clinging to her muscles that make her feel sluggish - like she’s walking through quicksand.

She hopes that this is just a fluke, that she’s not about to wind up with what will inevitably be an awful flu or cold or both (that’s definitely happened before, which she didn’t think was possible), but she knows it most likely isn’t.  She can count on one hand the number of times that she’s felt like she’s about to get sick, and then doesn’t.

She has a terrible immune system - she works with both special needs kids, and in retail, and even though everyone assured her that it would build up her immune system, it didn’t.  Everyone claimed that after a year or two, she wouldn’t get sick anymore, but she’s been working at both of them for coming up four years, and still, she has the immune system of a newborn baby.

She trudges through the door, dropping her bag on the floor with a groan, and then dropping onto the couch face first with another one.

Her throat stings with each swallow, and she sighs in frustration. She hates that she catches every bug that goes around, she hates that she’s about to text her boyfriend again to bring her tea.

She hates that she’s about to ruin their New Years Eve plans, but it’s only noon, and she can tell this is coming on hard and fast, and she’s not a fan.

Could you bring me some tea?

Her arm drapes over the side of the couch and she closes her eyes, waiting for Andrew to text her back.  

Her phone rings a couple of seconds later, and she presses answer before putting the phone on speaker.  

“Hey.”

“So are you coming down with something, or are you just in the mood for tea?” Andrew asks, his gruff voice floating through the phone.

“I’m getting sick I think…throat hurts.”

There was no point in hiding it.  She had tried to when they first started dating two years back, but he was far too perceptive for his own good.  He always got so mad when she wasn’t honest with him, so she just gave up on hiding it from him.

“Shit…can’t catch a break, huh?” He asks, voice filled with thinly veiled concern.

“Ugh…everyone is sick right now…I’m not surprised. I’ve been expecting it.”

He sighs, “well…I’ll be there soon.  Are you okay?”

“Yeah…just tired and achy.”

“Try and sleep until I get there, yeah? Get off the couch and go change first, though.”

“What-“

“-You always collapse onto the couch when you’re feeling shitty, you’re still in your clothes from today, right?”

“…maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.  Go change, get into bed, or get back on the couch and I’ll be there soon.”

“Do I have to?”

“You don’t have to do anything, but you’ll be more comfortable if you’re in bed.”

She knows he’s right, but she doesn’t have the energy to move.

“Hailey,” someone says into her ear, and then a large hand is on her back.  

She forces her eyes open, and then winces as a throbbing blooms across her forehead and in her temples.

“Go ‘way, Andy,” she groans, pushing at him weakly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Ugh…worse…definitely worse.”

He feels her forehead and grimaces, “you’re warm.”

She shivers, eyelids fluttering closed as she lets out an itchy, congested sneeze, “I’m so sick of this.”

“I know…bless you.”

“Do you want to go to bed, or do you want to stay here?”

“Um…I don’t know.”

He crouches down in front of her, keeping a hand on her back, “alright, talk to me.  What are we dealing with? Cold? Flu? Stomach bug?”

“I dunno…feels like the flu.”

“You’re not…um…are you nauseous?”

“No.”

He sighs in relief, “thank God. I still have flashbacks from the stomach flu of 2016.”

She grins sleepily, “don’t worry, big guy.”

He strokes her cheek, and then stands up, “alright, I’m going to run to the store for reinforcements.”

“I have medicine.”

“You do?”

“Yeah…not much, but I have stuff.”

“I should-”

“-please stay?”

“You don’t want to be alone, do you?”

She shakes her head, “no.”

“Honey,” he starts, smiling softly at her (a look he reserves just for her), “when did you start feeling sick?”

“When I got home.”

“This is hitting hard and fast, and you have what? Some cough drops and a bottle of Tylenol?”

“Something like that.”

“I’m going to the store.”

“Can I come?”

“Hailey-“

“-I’m coming.”

He sighs in defeat, “yeah, okay.”

She honestly would rather not go to the store, but being away from Andrew for that long isn’t an option.  She’s a big, needy baby when she’s sick, and this is no different.

“Andy,” she mutters weakly, clutching his arm for dear life as spots dance in her peripherals. Her legs feel like jelly and she’s fairly certain that if she lets go of him, she’ll drop.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks, looking down at her, “we’re almost able to leave.”

“I don’t...um...I n-need to lie down.”

“Are you okay?” He demands again.

“I feel really sick,” she manages to choke out, despite the fact that everything feels surreal and she’s not sure she remembers how to properly form words.

“Shit,” he hisses, throwing a handful of cash at the cashier before snapping out that he can keep the change.

He grabs the plastic bag with one hand and then half drags, half carries Hailey out to the car.

“What’s wrong?” He asks when he gets her into the car.

Her brain feels like it’s turned to mush, and she can’t manage to get out that she feels like she’s on the verge of passing out. All she can do is climb shakily into the back seat and curl into a ball.

She mumbles something incoherent, and he presses a hand to her forehead.

He fumbles with the bag, trying to find the thermometer he had bought.

“Hailey, I need you to talk to me,” he says, putting the thermometer in her ear.

“S’not fair,” she cries, tears in her eyes.

“What isn’t fair?”

“M’tired of always getting sick,” she slurs.

“I know you are,” he frowns, staring at the thermometer.

101. Not terrible, but definitely not ideal.

“It’s New Year’s Eve.”

“I know.”

“The party,” she croaks, forcing her eyes.

“We went to the store and you almost passed out. There’s no way we’re going to a party.”

“Probably a good plan,” she mumbles.

“You sound much more with it now, how are you feeling?”

“Better. Lying down helped,” she mumbles.

“Good,” he breathes. She goes to sit up but he shakes his head, “stay lying down. Try and sleep until we get home.”

*

“Still can’t sleep?” He asks, walking into her bedroom.

“No,” she rasps.

It seems like no amount of medication is helping, because Andrew has her maxed out on everything possible, but still, her fever is slowly climbing.

The medicine hasn’t touched any of her other symptoms either. She’s still just as dizzy and headachy as before, but now it’s accompanied by near consistent sneezing and coughing.

“Are you still dizzy?”

“Mmhmm,” she mumbles.

Hands down, this is the worst she’s ever felt.

He’s starting to feel a bit desperate - nothing he’s doing is helping her feel better, and he’s gotten good at taking care of her.

“I want to take you to the emergency room, your fever is pushing one hundred and four.”

She’s sneezes once, which sends her into a harsh, grating coughing fit.

He winces, heart clenching as he watches her struggle.

“No,” she whispers, voice nearly gone. “It’s New Year’s Eve, do you know how long we’ll be waiting?”

“I’ll get you seen first.”

She shoots him a flat look, “I’m not going to let you intimidate a poor nurse who’s just doing their job.”

“I don’t care. You need to see a doctor.”

“No.”

He sighs, “if you’re not better by tomorrow I’m taking you.”

“Deal.”

“Or if your fever goes higher than one hundred and four”

“Andy-“

“-I’m not going to let your brain fry just because there might be a wait in an emergency room,” he snaps. “The second it hits 104.1, I’m taking you to an emergency room.”

“What is it now?”

“103.5.”

No wonder she feels so terrible.

*

She has a migraine by eleven forty five, and she’s nearly in tears. The headache is exacerbated by her next door neighbor that seems to be throwing a complete rager.

“I’m going to kill them,” Andrew bristles.

Hailey wants to tell him to relax, that she’s fine, that it’s New Year’s Eve and they can’t expect the neighbors to cater to her just because she’s sick...but she can’t. All she can do to keep herself conscious is lay on her side under the blankets, clutching one pillow and pressing her face into the other pillow as her head pulsates. She can’t breathe either, because she’s so stuffed up and any attempt to breathe through her nose results in an awful coughing fit that tears at her throat.

Midnight rolls around, and all of a sudden they can hear the sounds of firecrackers go off, and pots and pans being banged on.

Hailey bursts into tears as white hot pain explodes in her head, and she wishes that death would just come because everything hurts.

“That’s it,” he snaps, standing up. “I’ll be right back, honey.”

Andrew storms out of the apartment, and over to the neighbor’s. He pounds on the door for nearly two minutes until someone finally opens.

“You’ve gotta shut the fuck up.”

The man on the other side of the door stares wide-eyed at Andrew, “It’s-“

“-I know it’s New Year’s Eve,” Andrew snaps, crossing his arms and widening his stance to stare down the man that he has a good five inches and hundred pounds on. “My girlfriend is sick and has a migraine and this is making it worse.

“Listen, man-“

Andrew steps towards him, face hard, “-I don’t think you understood me. Shut it the fuck down or so help me God I will call the fucking cops on your ass.”

“Y-yeah, o-okay. Sorry, m-man,” he squeaks.

He nods sharply and turns on his heel to head back into the apartment.

“Thank you,” Hailey whimpers weakly when Andrew is back in her room.

“Of course,” he says softly. “Can I lie down, or is that going to make you feel worse?”

“Cand you just lie with mbe and rub mby back?” She rasps, voice muffled by the pillow.

He climbs over her carefully, and as soon as he’s lying next to her, he begins running his hand up and down her back, and the physical touch is just enough to lull her to sleep.

When he hears her breathing even out, he lets out a sigh of relief. Hopefully she’ll feel a little bit better with some sleep.

"Goodnight, Hailey,” he murmurs into her ear before he feels himself drifting off, too.

[alwayssunnyprompts]

Can you write a fic, or short story, or oneshot, or anything like that about a sick scenario? Like, Dennis being sick and Mac taking care of him? Or the other way around. Sick or anything with like vulnerability? (Also the way you describe sounds in your work is great I love it a lot so maybe stuff like that?) if you don't want to that's totally okay I understand. Thank you! xo

Thank you so much! This is one of my favorite asks I’ve gotten and I loved writing it! Set while Mac and Dennis are still living together, maybe around season 5. Enjoy some very sick Mac and very caring Dennis!

Dennis glances at the clock for the third time in half an hour. Mac should have been back 15 minutes ago.

Not that he’s counting.  

Outside is the worst blizzard that’s hit Phillyin a while. There’s almost a foot on the ground already, double what there’d been a couple hours earlier when he’d sent Mac to buy movie night provisions. 

Mac finally trudges home at 8:30 pm, bursting in with a groan, shivering and covered in melting snow. He tosses the grocery bags haphazardly onto the kitchen counter and plops down on the couch next to Dennis. He’s breathing heavily, his head resting on the back of the couch andhis eyes shut. Dennis can see the redness of windburn on the tip of his nose and his cheeks. 

“Hey, bud,” Dennis says cautiously. 

“Bro, that place was insane. I forgot people got nuts when the weather gets bad. Everybody was running around like it’s the end of the world. Some shelves were just totally empty. Ugh, it was a mess,” he coughs a little, “come on, let’s just watch some movies." 

Dennis smiles, clapping Mac on the shoulder. 

"Sure, pal." 

Four hours later, they’re still going strong. Well, Dennis is. Mac’s spent the last 10 minutes nodding off, forcing himself awake. They’re finishing up Alien vs. Predator when he decides that he’s done for the night. 

"Dennis, I’m exhausted. I need to go to sleep, bro.”

“C'mon, man. What kind of lame excuse is that? Just one more!” Dennis rolls his eyes. 

“I’m serious, Dennis. I feel weird. My joints are super stiff and I can’t breathe very good. I think I might be coming down with something." 

"Well, then stay the hell away from me, dude. I’m not letting you get me sick. One sneeze and you’re on your own. Understand?” Does he really mean that? Probably not. However, the idea of getting sick is not only time-consuming and disgusting, it’s uncomfortable and stressful and he wants nothing to do with it. 

He looks back at Mac, who sways a little, seeming unfazed by Dennis’s remarks. 

“I–I have to go lay down,” he mutters,“I’ll see you later, Den." 

He starts to walk to his room and loses his balance, leaning on the arm of the couch for support. Dennis is at his side ina second, all previous thoughts of abandonment and quarantine forgotten. He rests a hand on the small of Mac’s back. 

"Hey, you good?" 

Mac looks pale, but more alert. 

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry, dude. I must have tripped." 

Dennis doesn’t have to look at the empty living room to know he didn’t trip on a damn thing. 

"Okay. Well, how about I help you so youdon’t trip again. How does that sound?”

A blush colors Mac’s cheeks and he nods, leaning into Dennis’s side. He grabs around Mac’s waist and leads him to the bed. 

“Do you want to change?” He’s still fully clothed, winter jacket and all.

 He looks down at himself, considering the outfit. 

“Yeah, I probably should, huh?" 

Dennis sighs, and grabs Mac some pajamas from his dresser. He grabs his robe too, partially because he might get cold, but also because he likes seeing Mac wear it. 

"Here. Do you need…help?”

Mac grabs the clothes from his hands.

“No, dude! I can do it myself." 

Dennis can hear the congestion in his chest, and see his legs quivering under the pressure of standing. He rolls his eyes. 

"Okay, fine, asshole. I’ll be right here if you need me, though." 

Watch Mac struggle to the bathroom is as hilarious as it is pathetic. He finally makes it, swinging the door almost-shut behind him. Dennis hears him breathing heavily, and grunting as he takes off his layers of clothes. A full 20 minutes pass before Mac emerges, sweaty and exhausted. He drops his street clothes in a rumpled pile on the floor and collapses onto the bed. 

"Ughh, Dennis, I think I’m dying.” He groans, rolling over to sprawl out. Dennis can tell he’s getting worse. His nose sounds clogged and gross, and his chest is making crackling noises if hetakes too deep of a breath. He groans, burying his face in a pillow. 

“Dennis?" 

"What is it?”

“I think I might get a migraine. I feel that pressure you asked me to watch out for.”

Dennis feels a pang of anxiety. Ever since Mac had crashed Dee’s car trying to fake his and Charlie’s deaths, he’d been getting debilitating migraines. They weren’t frequent, but a few times a year he’d be totally out of commission. The rest of the gang didn’t know about it. He’d been doing so well, too—it had been more than six months since his last one. Dennis doesn’t think they have any medicine left in the apartment. 

“Okay, we’ll deal with this,” he liftsMac’s quilt and motions for him to get under, “come on, you should get as comfortable as you can.”

Mac scoots slowly under the covers, grabbing one of his pillows and holding it against his chest. 

“Dennis, what are we gonna do? I’ve never had the flu and a migraine at the same time. How does that even happen? Jesus Christ, this is bad, dude.” He grips the pillow tighter. 

“Hey,” Dennis lays down on his side, so he’s face-to-face with Mac. He reaches over and ruffles his hair gently, “we can deal with this. It’ll be okay. We’ve done this before. Right?”

Mac nods. “Yeah." 

"Do you want the hot or cold pack?" 

"Not yet.”

“Alright. Try and get some sleep, okay?You’ll need it. I’m gonna go look for some meds and food for when you wake up. Call me if you need anything." 

Mac nods.

"Okay…thanks Dennis.”

Dennis leaves the door open just a crack, enough that he’ll be able to hear if something happens or Mac yells for him. 

Aside from his own meds, their cabinets are virtually empty. They have a few cough drops, some ice packs, Band-Aids, Mac’s hot pack, but not a single painkiller to speak of. Dennis drags a hand over his face. He thought they were better than this. At the very least Mac’s overprotective nature should mean there’s at least a Tylenol or two somewherein the house. But he’s not seeing anything. He glances out the window, the piles of snow illuminated by the street lights. There must be a couple feet at least, and it’s still coming down. The roads are covered now too. Neither of them are getting out of the house anytime soon. 

He goes to the kitchen and pours a glass of water, and searches the pantry. He takes out some tea bags, honey, and a few cans of soup (the shitty chicken noodle that Mac loves so much) that they keep on hand for situations like this. He sets it on the counter and goes to lay on the couch. He lets his eyes close for a little while.

When he opens them again, his mouth feels like cotton and his back is aching.

“Jesus,” he mutters, stretching.

The clock in the kitchen reads 3:45. He’d slept longer than he’d planned to. He stands up and gets a glass of water, and then shuffles over to check on Mac, peeking into his room silently.

Mac is curled in the fetal position. He’s shivering, his hands resting limp on the blankets in front of him. Dennis sits down on the edge of the bed as quietly as he can, reaching over to brush sweaty strands of hair from his face. The darkness under his eyes looks reddish and bruised, and he’s burning up. Dennis’s fingers brush against his forehead and he shudders at the touch, unconsciously moving closer. He whimpers softly, shifting with discomfort.

“Mac?” Dennis tests the waters. He really doesn’t want to have to wake him up, but if something else is wrong, he needs to know. “Mac?”

Mac moans, his eyelids fluttering as he looks up at Dennis as best he can. His eyes are dazed as hell.  

“Den?” He sounds absolutely awful. His voice is rough and quiet, like even talking takes a tremendous amount of energy. Guilt settles like a stone in Dennis’s chest.

“Hey, asshole,” he whispers affectionately, trying to push past his discomfort and worry to smile reassuringly, “how are you feeling?" 

He keeps his hand gently stroking Mac’s hair, pausing for a few seconds to rest it against his forehead again, and his cheek, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. Mac still looks zoned, taking time to process the answer. A weird expression is spreading across his face. But, to Dennis’ surprise, he simply sniffs in response. At first, he thinks it’s just because of the virus, then he takes a quick breath in, sniffling again. In a few seconds, he’s gasping and sniffling and… goddamnit. Tears start to fall, dropping over where Dennis is still cupping his face. 

"Ah, shit,” Dennis says under his breath, moving to brush the tears away as they fall, “shh, no… hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here. Tell me what’s wrong." 

The words slip out so naturally that he doesn’t realize what he’s saying until he’s said it. If Mac hears the term of endearment he shows no sign of it. His breath hitches and gives way to a wet sob and he brings his hands up to cover his face. The shaking returns. He presses his body against Dennis, his head putting pressure on Dennis’ thigh. The sobbing alone is broken and pathetic, but on top of it, his lungs sound like shit, mucus-filled and wheezing with every breath. 

Despite himself, Dennis finds his own throat tightening and his eyes misting over at the strangled, congested sounds. Mac doesn’t cry often, and when he does it’s never this random and uncontrolled. It’s usually soft and stifled after a nightmare, or a few tears escaping if it’s been a particularly hard day for them. But this is different. 

Dennis can see angry red blotches forming on Mac’s cheeks as he rubs at his eyes violently, his breathing starting to sound erratic. Dennis swallows his welling emotions. 

"Mac,” he takes his face in both hands, “look at me." 

Mac rubs at his eyes one last time before lowering his hands. Tears are still flowing steadily, and Dennis can see that tiny blood vessels have burst under his right eye. The rest of his face is pinched and pale as he continues crying. 

"Is it your head? Or something else?”

Mac nods. 

“Both?”

Another nod, quicker this time. 

“Okay. Come here.” He opens his arms, gesturing. Mac slowly crawls onto his lap, burying his face in Dennis’s shirt. He’s hot as a goddamn space heater and he’s heavy as shit. Dennis can feel his legs aching under the weight of a full-grown man lying on top of him, but he sure as hell isn’t going to say anything about it. 

He can feel Mac blinking against the crook of his neck, his breath hot and fast against Dennis’ collarbone. He wishes they had something he could give him. Even just ibuprofen or some shit that did enough to dull the pain that he could calm down and get a couple hours of uninterrupted sleep. 

He runs a hand up and down Mac’s back, pausing togently rub the nape his neck and then reaching with both to stroke his temples. Mac immediately recoils from the touch. 

“It hurts,” he chokes out. 

"Mac, don’t be–” he pauses, takes a deep breath, “I know. But, it’ll make your head feel better, I promise. If it doesn’t, I’ll stop right away. Okay?" 

"Okay.”

He pushes himself into a better position and places his hands back on Mac’s temples, massaging so lightly he’s sure that it isn’t helping anything. Mac gasps at the pressure, his eyes starting to well up again. He works with a little more purpose, and Mac closes his eyes, tries to breathe around the gunk in his lungs. His chest is heaving with exertion.

“Dennis, do you hate me?” His voice is so quiet. 

“Where did that come from? Wh–Mac, that’s…” he sighs, “that’s ridiculous. Of course I don’t hate you.”

He knows it’s just the pain and the fever talking, but it’s more than that. There’s genuine sadness behind the delirium. His heart pounds as he holds Mac’s head with the gentleness he’s reserved only for him, wishing he could transplant his feelings directly into Mac so that he’d be able to understand. He presses his cheek against the top of his head. 

After a few minutes, Mac sags against him. Dennis carefully lifts his hands and pulls him closer, holding him as his eyelids droop. He murmurs something unintelligible, head nodding against his chest. 

“What’d you say, buddy?” He asks softly.

“I love you,” his words slur together like he’s drunk. 

Dennis’s heart swells, and he feels a hot blush color cheeks. He chuckles.

“Of course you do. Close your eyes try to go back to sleep. I’ll be right here."