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fruitcoops · 2 years

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I haven’t been able to get the cubs with a baby out of my head since that one post. Showing up to practices with a little toddler? Two of them coming home to the third asleep on the couch with the baby in his chest? UNCLE ALEX, UNCLE BLIZ, AND AUNTIE NAT

@oknutzyweek prompt #2: Warm II Cold! Characters belong to @lumosinlove, except Grace, who is my OC and can be found in a few other cubs fics here and here

TW for mild illness (child)

Finn woke to lips on his cheekbone and a hand rubbing over his back; he made a quiet, questioning noise and got a gentle hush in return. “Fever?” he mumbled.

“Just over a hundred.” Logan’s accent was heavy and tired on his tongue.

“Knutty?”

“With her now. I came to check on you.”

“M’okay.”

“I know, mon rouge.” The kiss came again and he sat up, blinking blearily in the lamplight. Logan had perched himself on the edge of the bed, looking the same as he had when Finn took the first shift, all those hours ago. He let Logan take his hand and toy with his fingers while his brow furrowed in thought. “I think we should call Dumo.”

“Not the hospital?”

Logan shot him a wry glare. “Don’t tempt me, O’Hara.”

Finn yawned, then cracked a grin. “How long did it take Peanut to peel you off the ceiling?”

“Va te faire.”

“It’s a fever.” He tugged on Logan’s hand and opened his arm for a cuddle, which Logan went into willingly. He was warm, but not burning. Not like Grace’s forehead had been when they first picked her up not halfway through the school day, and not like it had remained throughout dinner and into the wee hours. Finn sighed. “Just a fever.”

“I still want to call Dumo.”

If it were anyone else in the world, Finn might have argued. But it was Logan, and it was Dumo, who would not hesitate to answer a late-night call from his adopted son. He gave Logan’s hip a little pat before releasing him and standing—his back popped in about four different places, and he had to shake his knee out as he padded down the hallway half-blind. His glasses were…somewhere. Probably in Grace’s room, but it was entirely possible he had put them in the fridge again on accident. Leo still hadn’t let him live down the ‘keys in the freezer’ incident and that was months ago.

Finn knocked lightly on the brightly-painted doorframe. “Come in,” a drowsy voice answered just above a whisper.

The small dolphin nightlight cast the whole room in a soft blue glow. The rocking chair creaked as Leo stood with a wince and a yawn, doing his level best not to jostle the lump of blanket in his arms. One sleepy, glassy eye peeked out at Finn and his heart folded like a cheap card table. “Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured. Her bangs were sweaty when he brushed them out of her eyes; her skin was far too warm when he kissed her forehead to check. “How are you feeling?”

Grace sniffled and buried her face in Leo’s shoulder. “Not good.”

“Did you sleep?”

“We caught a couple minutes.” Leo rested his head against Finn’s with a long sigh, nuzzling his cheek. “You?”

“Couple minutes.” After laying in bed for an hour feeling like the worst father in the world. Finn felt Logan’s hand on his waist a moment later and touched Grace gently on the elbow. “We were going to call Grandpa, okay? He might come over and check on you.”

A hum from Leo made both of them look up. “Already called Kasey ‘n Nat,” he murmured, eyes hooded. “They’re on the way. Was just about to head in and let you know.”

“Thanks, love,” Finn whispered with a kiss to his jaw that made Leo smile. He slid his hands under Grace’s arms and lifted her into his own, pulling the blanket back around her shoulders. Leo stood there like he didn’t quite know what to do, only conscious enough to stay upright—Finn gave his bicep a tug and tilted his head toward the door. “Go get some rest. Lo and I can wait up for Bliz.”

Leo shook his head. “Won’t be able to sleep.”

“Try for me, okay?” He mustered a reassuring smile and was grateful Leo didn’t have much fight in him, because he knew for a fact he would crumple under that bullheaded stubbornness when he had only been awake for a few minutes. Grace made a little snuffling noise as Leo and Logan disappeared into the hall—in an instant, every ounce of Finn’s attention was attuned to her. “Gracie?”

“Head hurts.” She twisted her hand in the front of his tshirt. “Daddy, I’m cold.”

Finn’s internal organs made a valiant effort to break right through his ribs and throw themselves at the feet of whatever god smited terrible, horrible, awful fathers who let their sick kids feel cold. Logically, he knew more blankets were a bad idea when Grace was already running too hot, but logic could go fuck itself. His baby was cold. End of story.

“Let’s go into the living room,” he managed. “Nice and warm there.”

“Is Grandpa coming?”

“Not right now, but Auntie Nat and Uncle Kasey are on their way. Are you hungry?”

A whine answered him and he closed his eyes, blowing out a slow breath. God, he knew kids got sick, all the parenting books had outlined the unavoidable petri dish of preschool, but that didn’t make it any easier. If he could swap their places then and there, he would.

It seemed Logan had convinced Leo to shuffle off to bed before moving to sit on the living room couch with his phone clutched in one hand and his eyes trained on the door like it was a stray puck. Finn settled Grace down between them and she curled into Logan’s side, pillowing her head on his thigh. His heart ached at the care with which Logan tucked her blanket back into its proper place. “Five minutes.”

“Kay.”

There was nothing else they could say. Nothing else that mattered. Five minutes felt like thirty seconds, felt like thirty years before headlight shone outside and the knock on the door finally came.

“There’s my baby girl,” Natalie cooed as she entered the house and set a small tote bag by the door, beelining for the couch with a quirked brow to Finn. He nodded, and she knelt by the edge of the couch to take one of Grace’s tiny hands between her own. “I heard somebody wasn’t feeling good. Did your daddy have too many cookies again?”

A giggle drew a soft puff of air from Logan. “No,” Grace said through her laughter. “It’s me.”

“It’s you?” Kasey eased himself onto the couch; Finn didn’t miss the nudge of their shoulders, nor the gentle squeeze to his arm before Kasey reached over and tapped Grace on the nose. “What happened?”

“My tummy and my head and my body hurts.”

Natalie glanced up. “What’s her temp?”

“100.5. Leo took it ten, fifteen minutes ago.” Logan sounded even more exhausted than before, though he perked up when Leo came through the doorway.

Finn smiled at Leo’s adorable attempt to appear awake. “Thought you went to bed, sunshine.”

“Heard people,” Leo mumbled. His hair was sticking up on one side in a cowlick, like he had passed out the moment he hit the bed and not twitched a muscle since. “Wanted to say hi. Thanks for coming, ‘s late.”

“Hey, you know we’ll come any t—” Kasey paused when Grace pulled on his sleeve. “Yes?”

“Where’s Uncle Alex?”

“At home, keeping an eye on our own sickies.”

Finn frowned and felt Logan go tense. “They’re sick?”

“Sniffles,” Kasey explained, not exactly unbothered but definitely nowhere near Logan’s earlier level of ‘oh my god the Rapture is here’. “Third grade’ll do that. Kids licking handrails left and right.”

“He did send you a present, though,” Natalie added with a twinkle in her eye. Grace lit up, leaning forward, and smiled when Nat kissed her forehead. “That one’s from him…” Another kiss, to the very tip of her nose. “And that’s from me. To make you feel all better.”

Logan reached out to touch her wrist when she sat back again. “Do we need to take her to the hospital?” he asked, hardly above a whisper so Grace wouldn’t hear.

Nat blinked, then stifled a snort, though her face was full of affection. “God, I love you, Tremblay. Unless her fever keeps climbing or she starts throwing up a lot, you’ll be fine letting her sleep it off. Looks like a stomach bug to me.”

“She’s so warm.” Finn knew he sounded rather pathetic and appreciated that nobody commented on it.

“That’s good. Means she’s fighting it off.” A muffled snore came from their left and Natalie bit back a smile; Finn couldn’t help the soft ‘oh’ that escaped him at the sight of Leo passed out cold on Kasey’s shoulder and covered his mouth with his hand as Logan let out a breath of laughter. Nat patted him on the knee a moment later. “O’Haras are such worrywarts. Take a breath, have some water, then put her back to bed. She’ll be okay in a day or two.”

Finn looked down at Grace, who had already fallen asleep again, then back up. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Natalie hesitated before pulling Grace’s blanket back down to cover her toes. “It helps to sleep in the same room as her for a bit, though. Might make you feel better.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

They didn’t stay much longer after that—Finn took Leo’s dead weight while Logan gathered grace up and settled her against his chest, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads before disappearing back into the hall with soft footsteps. “Peanut?”

“Mmm.”

Finn could hear Logan rustling around in the other room and pulled himself upright. “Time for bed.”

“Stayin’ up with the baby.”

“Lo’s got her right now. Come to bed with me.”

It wouldn’t be right to call Leo’s eyes ‘half-lidded’ as they wandered to their bedroom. They were almost fully closed, and certainly sleepy enough that Finn began to question the likelihood of sleepwalking. It was a testament to both his exhaustion and his unfailing trust in Logan that Finn didn’t have to drag him past Grace’s bedroom and instead acted as a guide until they reached the bed, curling up around each other in a smooth curve. It didn’t matter that Grace was nearly five years old and had been sick before during her time with them. Finn had the feeling it wouldn’t matter if she was 15, or 19, or 35. The three of them would always worry, and he was grateful for every ounce of the love that made it possible.

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do-u-really-wanna-know · 17 days

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this is who i am

#face reveal #sickly victorian child #sick child #richard canals #art #aesthetic #girlblogging #sullen girl #girlhood #girly things #girly thoughts #2014 tumblr #2014 grunge #2014 aesthetic #grunge tumblr #reveal

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gumballavocadoharry · 11 months

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Roger's day off; Jack Chambers:

Roger was sitting in his class, sweat making his face souse. His sight was a thick hazy fog, much like his mind that just wasn't focusing on the chalkboard but more on his pounding headache, that left him panting out of his mouth like a puppy dog. His nose was clogged, his throat had a slight scratch to it and his mouth was dry, yet sticky. Roger felt slight annoyance at the running tap nose he had, that constantly sent the back of his hand wiping it.

Roger laid his head on his desk, trying hard to rest his aching strained eyes. "Roger?" Valerie, a girl in his class who was his desk neighbor, gently poked him. "Are you alright?" Even with his face pressed down on top of his crossed arms, he shook his head, visible enough for Valerie to understand. "Kids no talking, Roger wake up!" The teacher announced from the chalkboard.

Roger lifted his head up to reveal a pastel colored boy with pink circles under his eyes and moist hair strands that stuck to his temple. Sniffles and coughs were triggered from lad the more he forced himself alive. The teacher furrowed her eyebrows and went over to Roger's desk. "Are you feeling okay Roger?" He weakly shook his head to confirm her reasonable perturbation. "What's your parent's number?"

Roger's eyes bugged out a little at the mention of his parents. "My mother's not home....she's at the mall a whole city away and my father's at work." The teacher gulped harshly. "Do you know you're dad's pager number?"

"555908," The teacher smiled and excused herself to make the phone call. Eyes were on the young boy as he laid his head down, staring out the window of the pearly leadan cloudy day. The leaves slightly swirled around in the wind and would land on the ground for only brief moments. In his peripheral vision, Roger's teacher came back into the classroom and continued the lesson.

"Your father's on his way Roger." The teacher smiled. Roger's heartbeat sped up faster. His rapport with his 'illnesses' at school for faking sick put him on the radar for not having a reliable back up. Guilt crept inside of Roger like acid swimming up his throat the more he thought on how well he would play his parents sympathy. He still remembers kindergarten, when he had a 'flu' virus and Alice ran up to the school like a speeding bullet. Half her hair was in rollers, as she was in the middle of doing her hair for an important dinner party.

Speaking of the acid, penetrating up his throat.....it sent Roger racing to the bathroom and tossing his cookies. Once he came back to the classroom, everyone's eyes were glancing between Roger and the teacher. It wasn't until Roger heard the gentle voice of his father, echo through the walls of the classroom, he felt at ease."Roger?" He made a beeline to his pale boy who was hunched over in his chair.

At first Jack's eyebrows were furrowed with unsureness as to another one of his son's gimmicks. Which if that being case, he would NOT be in the mood for. But his expression softened upon seeing the ailing little boy, barely able to sit in his chair. "Roger?" His soft voice matched the mellow touch he provided to Roger's cheek. The back of his hand trailed through Roger's sweaty temple and cheek.

"They told me you weren't feeling well," The teacher joined in and told Jack about Roger's recent trip to the bathroom shortly before he had come. "I'm sorry daddy," Roger's voice was weak and feeble, trembling with uneasiness and disorder.

"Oh puppy, it's okay. It's not your fault that you're sick." Jack said with a baby voice. Roger's tongue was out, panting again like a puppy dog. Jack's heart burst with compassion for the little boy. His immense worry and pity moved him to smooch his cheek and caress his cheeks. "Daddy's here, let's get you home." He said pitifully. Jack wrapped his suit jacket around Roger, gently standing him up from his desk. "I'll send you his assignments." The teacher revived with.

Jack's heart beat louder out of his chest than it already was once he saw Roger didn't even protest it. Sirens ran belligerently in his brain, scanning through the worst scenarios of what was making his boy sick. "Thank you, I appreciate it." Roger gave a small smile to his teacher before being escorted out of the class.

"You upchucked?" Jack asked, eyes not darting from his son for one second. Roger nodded. The hallways seemed like flashes to him, he was more focused on trying to keep his knees from buckling than answering the obvious question. Jack held him closer until they were in his car.

"We're going home now, don't worry." The car ride was one long headache for Roger, getting worse when they had to pull over so Roger could regurgitate the rest of his breakfast. He tried hard to eschew the tickle in his throat, but there's only so long you can rebel a tornado warning. Jack's heart disintegrated by the minutes of seeing his little Roger, in so much discomfort on the side of the road.

"Feel better?" Roger nodded, blowing his nose into a tissue he had in his pocket. "It's okay baby, just lay down in the car." Only then did Jack realize this was no prank or a trick to get out of school, Roger was REALLY sick. Jack carried Roger inside to his bedroom after locking up the car. He dressed him into his pajamas and tucked him into bed.

"Rest my munchkin, I'm sorry your tummy hurts." Jack said in a soft baby voice. "I love you, call me if you need me." Jack peppered Roger's cheeks with kisses. He felt they were flustered and red, so he took his temperature. "You....have a fever." Jack had worry in his voice. He gave a commiseration look to Roger before rubbing his cheek and aweing at his misery sympathetically.

Roger's eyes were hooded, drowsy and pupils dilated. His skin was clammy and he had congestion in his lungs. His shaky breathing and raspy coughs, sprinkled with harsh sneezes only tugged Jack's heartstrings more. "I'm making you some hot tea!" He called from the kitchen. Jack thought it to be light, considering Roger's sensitive stomach. "Here you go," In a sweet voice, Jack carefully handed Roger the tea. "It's hot." Roger sniffled. "Thanks dad." Jack cupped one of Roger's cheeks and booped his nose.

He sat down bedside next Roger. It was times like this where he was troubled, yet felt so powerless against making it all go away. Roger noticed Jack's deep dismal misery. It was almost pathetic how wretched Jack felt despite Roger being the one who was ill. " How are you are feeling baby?" Roger's drowsy eyes were enough of an answer for his father, but Jack needed words to hear.

"Tired, gross, sticky....but stable I guess," Jack pressed a sound kiss to his son's cheek. He grabbed his hand and gently rubbed it. "I'm right here Rogie, daddy's not going anywhere." Roger gave a small babyish smile, purposeful to arouse more compassion and provisioning from Jack. "D-dad, I could use a comic from my desk, please?" Roger spoke, with a frail, pleading voice. "I just really wanna read something before I...fall asleep."

"Oh, of course my teddy bear," Jack grabbed a couple comics from Roger's desk. "Thanks daddy." Jack smiled, pitifully and leaned down to kiss Roger's forehead. "Now, you rest and let me know if there's anything you need....drink plenty of fluids too."

Roger flashed a weak smile, making Jack blew a kiss to him before leaving. Roger grew an artful smirk, knowing that once Jack saw how truly sick he was, he would be in the palm of his hand catering to every beckon call Roger threw his way. Even in a flimsy state, Roger still showed his true mischief roots.

"Oh dad!" He hollered from his bed. Jack came rushing in, bucket in his hand and asprin in his shirt pocket. "Into the bucket Rogie, let it all out in the bucket!" Roger chuckled. "Oh no, it's not that. I was wondering if......you could, uh....well...you know those shakes from Freddy's?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "There's this one called the peanut butter blister....and I was hoping to try it out? If you can't I understand...."

"What about your tummy? Can it handle it?" Roger nodded, sealing it in with a 'fit' of coughs and sniffles. "It's the least I could have...because......I can't taste anything good that you or mom make...." Roger played the role of a sick terminal patient, who sheepishly requested for one last thing. Jack's eyes pouted with his quivering lip. "Oh of course! Anything for my chickadee,"

He grabbed his jacket from the other room. "Will you be okay here by yourself?" Roger gave a weak nod. But he didn't plan on that hesitating Jack into leaving him alone. "But, what if you get sick again?"

"I'll call?" Roger was set on getting that milkshake. Or maybe he was just testing Jack to see how far he could go with this? "You have to come with me Rog," Roger was satisfied and grabbed him jacket, ready to join Jack on his spoling road. Like a helpless infant, Jack held Roger in his arms as they went for a little joyride to Freddy's for Roger's peanut butter shake.

Deep down, Jack's guts turned realizing he was probably playing puppet Roger's ludicrous demands, but nonetheless dismissed it with the blindness of guilt and pity, especially stemming from how his doubts kept him aloof to Roger's cries at first until the proof spoke for itself. Poor thing! Must be a pain to be so unwell. Jack's thoughts were reasonable, but could easily be exploited if not limited.

Roger would make the cutest expressions, just to gather more selfish pity from Jack who he would robotically control to get the most out of his sickness. Jack reeked of sympathy, so it wasn't hard for him to be played. After Roger received his milkshake, Jack would occasionally ask Roger how he was feeling and if the it was too much for his tummy.

"Nope, It's great! Thanks dad!" Jack gleamed a jovial smile, before taking him back home. By then, Alice's car was in the driveway, and Susan was home as well. "Uh oh, what are we gonna tell mom when she asks where we were?"

Jack diverted his eyes to the rearview mirror. "Leave it to me bud, you just go upstairs and rest." Jack winked, leaving Roger feeling more secure and relieved. He walked through the door with his sanguine father, who's eyes met with Alice. "Oh thank goodness! I just got the news that Roger was sent home because he was sick!" Alice ran to him, feeling his warm forehead that was still moist and sticky and his matching high temperature cheeks.

"Oh my poor baby!" Alice kissed Roger all over his face, her maroon nails squishing his cheeks. "Daddy got you a milkshake?" She cooed, "It was the only thing he could really stomach right now....he had thrown up twice already." Alice gave a pitiful look to Roger before wrapping him in a hug.

"Here you go Roger," Susan handed him a picture she drew in school. "I heard you were sent home, so I made you this." "Thanks sis." Roger took the picture and escorted himself to him room. Despite his cheeky act, Roger genuinely did not feel well. At all. His body was hot and scorching despite the cool essence of autumn charging in, becoming more visible from the last week.

He internally complained of slight chills, furious coughing and sneezing rages, coming and going headaches, nose so stuffy that his breathing became laboured and the vigorous scratch in the back of his throat that wasn't leaving anytime soon.

Roger's slugged over body, doubled over onto his bed just before the room started spinning. Calefaction poured out of his chest like steam from a boiling pot of water. Was it the milkshake? Thinking became an exertion for Roger. His stomach wasn't even turning, it was his muscles that began to ache, and his vision became green.

"Hey baby," He heard the voice of his mother. "How you feeling?" Roger was so weak, that he couldn't even bring himself to speak the simplest words. His eyes flickered on and off like aged light bulbs that were counting it down until they shorted out.

Fear grew in his parents eyes, as Roger's mouth was open, air flowing in and out, but words were non existent. Jack layed a hand on his head. "He's burning up!" Alice ran and got the thermometer, as Jack held Roger in his arms, gently rocking him back and forth.

"It's okay, daddy's got ya." Roger could sense Jack was mostly reassuring himself. Alice practically shoved the thermometer into his mouth only for it to beep at 103. "That's a really high fever Jack!" Alice started to become frantic. Jack furrowed his eyebrows thinking for a moment, eyes anxiously diverting between Roger and his wife.

"I think we should take him to the hospital just to be on the safe side." Roger who would normally protest this, was still and quiet....drowsy almost like he was going to flop over any minute from no balance.

Jack scooped Roger in his arms and raced downstairs and into the car, while Alice stayed behind with Susan. Jack broke every speed limit to rush to the hospital, heart beating out of his chest with horror of Roger's simple flu being something much more sinister.

Upon arrival, Jack rushed in with Roger in his arms, feet screeching towards the front desk. "Hello, my son is very sick, he has a very high fever and he's breathing heavily," The callous nurse tried to administer attitude. "Well sir, you're gonna have t-"

"Look ma'am, my son is very sick. He needs medical attention right away, because I do know that a very high fever untreated can take him into shock! Where do I sign?" Jack's voice was authoritative and assertive. His intense aggression mixed ambition on putting the nurse in her place and get Roger help, became his provocative.

Jack signed Roger in and waited for the doctor to see him. People watched as Jack held his 8 year old in his arms tightly. Roger was given a hospital bracelet with his name and birthdate on it. "Roger?" A nurse called, signaling Jack up from his seat, still with Roger in his arms.

A cold shudder ran up Roger's spine as the nervousness of being in the cold sterile hospital kicked in. "It'll be okay baby....I'm right here." Jack gave a soft smile, taking Roger's little hand into his. He rubbed the back of his little boy's restlessly with the facade of being comforting, but Jack was a bundle of nerves. His breathing had gained a slight denseness to it; like an elephant was crushing his chest, making him gasp for air with every passing minute that the doctor took his sweet time in getting into this room.

He'd better not be doodling! Jack's unhinged anxiety was shooting through the roof of the hospital. "Hello, I'm Doctor Mick, what seems to be the trouble today?" Jack blinked. The guy seemed to be so la la land on the whole posture, that Jack started to question this man's competence as a doctor. Maybe it was Jack's overactive paternal instinct, but Jack was in NO mood to be tested with such an animated fool, in a lab coat wearing that anencephalic smile.

"Well, my son has a high fever, he's been throwing up a lot-he has chills, he's been very weak and out of it..like in a dizzy way where he can't catch his balance and he's been breathing hard....I can hear him, sometimes it's hard for him to catch his breath." The doctor nodded, while writing things down on his clipboard.

"Does he have a sore throat?" Jack peeked over to Roger who gave a nod. The doctor hummed in response. "I would like to do a strep test just to be sure," Roger's eyes bulged with fear. He had heard about this and knew it was an uncomfortable experience. "It's okay bubba, daddy's here," Jack sensed his son's fear, "Just focus on me." His voice was soft and reassuring, fatherly at it's best and it secured Roger in a comforting blanket. Like a fuzzy teddy bear who hugged him when he needed it the most.

But that teddy bear was Jack. He gently laid Roger back, held his hands tenderly while rubbing them, and looked into Roger's scared eyes with despotic sympathy. Roger was instructed to open his mouth wide, which allowed the Doctor Mick to twirl the q-tip around the back of his throat for 4 seconds.

Gags and whimpers were followed by Roger, before Jack delivered big bear hugs and kisses all over his face. The doctor showed nerve like the saccharine moment the father and son shared was uncanny or somehow unnatural. Oh, but your dumbed down excuse for a degree and doctoring was so relatable! You just stuck a dry stick down my son's throat, how do you expect me to react?! Jack's temper was flaring high in his thought bubble.

The doctor excused himself into the lab to test for any signs of strep in Roger. Jack continued cuddling the little fellow, murmuring sweet things in his ear. "No more tests daddy," Roger cried. "I know bunny, daddy didn't like it either," He gingerly rubbed his back, tears forming themselves in the back of Jack's throat. His lungs were running on adrenaline; wanting to scream at the top of his lungs to confound and frustrating sickness that had befallen Roger.

He was a normal healthy little boy who was just up and running a week ago. Now he was sick as a dog, and it was still up in the air of if it was just a flu that deemed no reason to over respond, or something more cynical....like meningitis, encephalitis, pneumonia.....the list seemed to be endless in Jack's head. He could almost punch himself for not being protective enough....for allowing Roger to be exposed to such viruses and now suffer from it.

It wasn't his fault no doubt, but it still didn't stop him from feeling like he didn't do enough. His guilt was disturbed by the sudden knock on the door and the doctor following pursuit behind it.

"Test results are back....and Roger does not have strep throat. It came back as the flu. So I'm going to prescribe some medicine to bring down the fever and relieve his symptoms." Jack sighed a sigh a relief. "Thank you," Doctor Mick smiled, "It was my pleasure, Have a nice to the both of you,"

"You too." Jack said taking the prescription, folding it and stuffing it in his pocket so his arms were free to carry Roger. Roger didn't even care he was being carried bridal style out of the hospital. He was so weak, that it was actually a sweet solace from using his achy muscles. "We're going home now, we just need your medicine."

Jack swung by the pharmacy and grabbed the prescribed medication before rushing back home. "How was it?" Alice, clearly worried asked. She was sitting on the couch, combing through Susan's hair with her fingers as a comforting notion to soothe themselves. "It was great, Roger just has the flu and the Doctor gave him some medicine," Jack ruffled Roger's hair.

"Oh that's good. Roger...go upstairs and go rest pumpkin, mommy and daddy will be up to check on you soon." Roger sluggishly up the steps, Jack and Alice carefully watching making sure the boy wouldn't wobble over at the top of the stairs.

Roger laid helplessly in bed, mind racing over the demanding day. To him, this was natures way of reminding him not to milk the loving pampering his parents unconditionally show to him and his sister. "Hey champ," Jack whisper talked in a sweet tone, "How are you feeling?" Roger noticed the spoon and medicine bottle in Jack's hand.

Roger's gut twisted itself. He had known all to well the smell of the nasty remedy that was first handed to Jack at the pharmacy counter. His stomach shuddered at the thought of what it could even taste like. Vile rose from his esophagus as he watched Jack's hand pour the brown liquid on the spoon. "It's time to take your medicine," Jack leveled the spoon to Roger's mouth before shoving it in.

To Roger's surprise, it wasn't as bad as he had thought. "Good boy..." Jack screwed the cap on the bottle before taking a seat on the bed with him. "I know today wasn't fun, but I just want you to know, that you are such a trooper for being so brave and going through all this."

Jack reached his arms out and wrapped Roger in the millionth hug today. "And I love you," He placed a tender kiss on his forehead before tucking him into bed. "Sleep tight puppy." Jack kissed his cheek and turned off the lights before leaving the room.

Roger turned in his bed, more relaxed as his fever was more renounced, his chills had gone away and his nausea had greatly subsided. But most importantly, his heart was flush, once he realized there was no need to hoodwink Jack for his attention, as his parents were always there for him.....

Sick or not.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #dadrry #dad!harry #jack chambers son #jack chambers #jack chambers imagine #jack chambers daughter #alice chambers #roger chambers #susan chambers #sick child #sick day

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faentasy-paesta · 12 days

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‼️URGENT‼️ Hatem Al Najjar is A Palestinian Father Trapped in The Siege on Gaza With His Family, Including Children! He’s currently fundraising to provide for them! His Child is sick and desperately needs Medicine! PLEASE Donate As Much As You can and Share Widely PLEASE! Like I’m so serious he’s so scared that his child is dying please he needs to get medicine for them please please please help them please donate as much as possible please and share as widely as you can please!!!! 🙏🏽

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mysterious-secret-garden · 10 months

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Arturo Michelena - Enfant malade (sick child), 1887.

#Arturo Michelena #sick child #medicine #death bed

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bishopsbox · 9 months

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source: bishopsbox

Arturo Michelena (Venezuelan), The sick child, 1886.

Arturo Michelena (venezolano), El niño enfermo, 1886.

#arturo michelena #1886 #academic painting #sick child

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steamberrystudio · 2 years

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Thanks for humoring me and all my silly asks. I feel like I'm kinda being annoying with how many I'm shooting at you, so I really appreciate you humoring me and being so chill about it (especially considering I keep sending more than one question per ask).

If you don't mind, I have a few more rocking around in my noggin.

What would the ROs at the end of their route/in the distant future and still very happy and in love with MC, tell their past self who is at beginning of their route?

How would the ROs take care of their and MC's very sick child? In the end the child comes out of it ok and healthy, but for a while things are looking really bad (plus grandpa Keres's aid too please!)

To be clear, I don't consider it "humouring" - I enjoy responding to asks and interacting with everyone. You aren't being remotely annoying. <3

Sometimes if I take a few days to get to something, it's because it's an ask that requires me to kick it around in my head a little first, or else I'm just tired.

But I don't mind answering - so please don't feel like you're being annoying! <3

1.Message to past self:

Ari: Probably nothing. I think that Ari, more than anyone, would realise the necessity of taking that exact path to achieve personal growth. Even if he would want to say "Don't be afraid to experience this or show emotions", I think even 10 years down the line, he'd feel like it was pointless to say something he definitely would need to experience himself as a journey. Sometimes, after all, you have to learn to fall before you can learn to do anything else. ;)

Caissa: Would probably bop himself for being so cold at the start of the route - even knowing he acted that way due to being totally freaked out by his father being suddenly VERY INTERESTED in Morgan's development…But he'd probably tell himself to be more gentle with her from the start. And to…talk things out with his father.

Caleb: He'd tell his past self to calm the f*ck down and stop being such an asshole all the time. Also "Tease her more. It's still really fun."

Jack: Nothing. He'd say their entire journey and relationship was and is perfect. Maybe he'd say "Tell her to stay out of the damn ruins FOR GOD'S SAKE."

Lance: "Get to her faster. Before that robot finds her. Don't be afraid to get involved. She needs you." ;A; Also…"BE SURE TO HOLD THE TOWEL IN PLACE WHEN YOU CATCH HER!"

Magnus: Trust her faster. Trust everyone more. You both deserve that much.

Anddddddd….that's all I can answer of that one!

2. Sick child:

Ari: Sick child would definitely go straight to the medical ward. He'd spend most of his time trying to calm his SO/MC. But would definitely be fretting a bit himself. In his usual way - pacing, tapping, trying to be calm.

Caissa: He'd be completely frantic, really. Badgering Dr Rosenthal until the man is ready to throttle him. He'd probably keep himself busy doing research on whatever the problem is until Rosenthal is like "I swear, if you google ONE MORE THING…I'm going to sedate you. >=O"

Caleb: Again, sick child goes straight to the medical ward. He would be a terror. Yuu would be repeatedly threatening to throw him out for being a jerk. MC/SO would be trying to calm him down. Eventually he'd break and just be worried and frantic and someone would have to talk him through the terror until he was calm enough to function again.

Jack: Freak out. Drive straight to the nearest ER. Panic everywhere. Hold his kid's hand through it all and be on the verge of tears until they're okay. Blame himself. For reasons.

Keres: I think he'd be relatively calm. He did go through this sort of thing before. He'd be concerned and, of course, take the child to a hospital if needed. Otherwise, he'd just lurk while Rosenthal took care of them and probably offer to do things like sit with the child or help feed them or whatever was needed. He's a very calm-in-emergencies sort.

Lance: Definitely be worried. They'd have to go to the nearest Nomos city for care. He'd do what research he could but ultimately want someone else to take care of his child properly. He'd just lurk and worry like a normal parent - not anything too dramatic, but he'd be visibly worried and upset.

Magnus: Would step back and let others handle it. Probably go to his office and shut down for a while. Be *extremely* testy in that smiling way that only he can be. Probably be verging on tears when he's alone. 100% unsure how to handle this.

Quill: I think he's another worried-but-calm sort that would let doctors sort it out and just wait to hear what's going on.

Reuben: Definitely more of a frantic dad vibe. But not as over-the-top as some of the others. He has younger siblings so he's probably helped care for sick children before. He'd probably be the one trying to comfort SO/MC and be positive about the outcome.

Yuu: Obviously he'd be worried but given his occupation I think he'd handle things the most rationally out of everyone there.

#gilded shadows #love interests #sick child #message to past self

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chitimouse · 9 months

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"My heart won't be able to support me much longer."

#donation #rachasheilev #sick child #kids with problems #chronic illness #charity

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autobot2001 · 11 months

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We Are Family

@mediwhumpmay: Emergency room @themerrywhumpofmay: Home base

A soldier and his wife worry about their two-year-old daughter. Certain her 102° temperature is a concern for children her age, but also worry they'll look like those parents that worry for nothing. They decide to go to the E.R. when their daughter cries while in bed and doesn't like being picked up.

The ride to the hospital is unpleasant for the toddler. The worried parents hope it's not going to be a long wait. "Her pediatrician isn't in today, and there is no room for appointments today," the worried mother sighs.

An hour passes, and the soldier decides to go to the cafeteria to get coffee for himself and his wife. For now, their daughter sleeps while being held.

Ratchet walks into the hospital, seeing the always full emergency room waiting room. He can't help when there are not enough rooms in the department to take patients in, but he does see one patient he can help.

"You know you are allowed to take her to my medbay," he tells the worried mother after being told why they're at the emergency room. They wait for her husband to return to head to the base.

By the time they reach the medbay, the little girl is awake and not liking how she still feels unwell. Ratchet knows how to be gentle with the unhappy toddler.

"The flu and ear infection in both ears," Ratchet concludes, "she can stay here until the medications kicks in."

The toddler is not pleased to be carried to another room and sat up to take medicine. "Shh, don't tell Ratchet, but I got you a lollypop," Jasmine whispers "I'm right here," Ratchet comments. The little girl smiles and lets out s little laugh. The toddler is comfortable watching T.V. on their tablet while the adults leave the room.

"I know this is a military base, but it's also the Autobots' home, and we have become more like a family with the soldiers who chose to live here. I know you don't live here, but you can visit the medbay if necessary. I will send my file to your daughter's pediatrician." "Thank you, Ratchet," the soldier replies. "This can be like a second home to you," Jasmine smiles. The parents take their child home once she's asleep, thinking about considering the base a second home base.

#transformers #transformers fanfiction #transformers ratchet #sick child #packed emergency room #long wait #military base #our rules are different #family #home base #themerrywhumpofmay #themerrywhumpofmay2023 #mwmday19 #mediwhumpmay2023 #mediwhumpmay #mediwhumpmay day 19

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viva-la-whump · 1 year

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Time for a little sick fic and adorableness!

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lhaagain · 2 years

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@sicktember Prompt 21 - Whining/Crying

Set during Season 8

“Thank you so much for doing this,” Dr Turner said as the ragtag collection of children in sleepwear and coats traipsed bleary eyed through the front door of Nonnatus House. “Just with Shelagh away and…”

“No apology required,” Julienne said. “I would have come to you but…” The rain was bouncing off the pavement outside, and when he’d called, he’d refused to countenance her coming out in it. The Turner’s new home was significantly further away.

“I was passing your door anyway, but I should get going…” He handed her Teddy, who of all of the children was still half asleep and clearly not very happy.