Long Road Ahead

[ThatSneezyGirl]

Girl you ain't rushin me! I love writing that story and I was actually working on it last night And OMG I FUCKING LOVE this story!!! Like when I first started writing on here I was like the only one writing Justin Bieber stories so I'm happy other people like them too And you used my title... I feel so loved

[BlueKeeper]

Holllyy Shit...lol I LOVE ushers appearance...and nickname <3

Also I don't like his new look that much...and I miss the hair...but his voice is deeper.

And I wish like hell he'd like re-sing the album my worl 2.0 with his voice after it changed. It would sound SO much better....his live performances are amazing..but ARG! SING THEM OVER! </3

[purpleninja]

@smalltownbieber I actually found this forum searching for a JB sick fic!!! I LOVE them! They're actually a lot of them on you tube! Just google it; there are a bunch! And I loved your title suggestion! It totally fit the story because Justin's got a LONG road ahead of him!! (589 pages left as of now, to be exact) On page 657now! (and counting! I'm STILL writing!) And I absolutely ADORE your stories!!! I'm so glad you've been working on Izzy's Diary! please post asap!

[purpleninja]

@chocolit4life I know!! His old voice was so ADORABLE!! he sounded like an angel! But his new voice is so sexy!! he sounds like a sexy angel!! (haha lol)

[Bgrace27]

AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! can you please keep going.

[purpleninja]

SOOOOO sorry it's been so long! I hope you can forgive me...

Day 4

8:39 A.M.

I woke up slowly and looked around. I did not sleep well last night. I was so worried about Justin, every time he’d cough, sneeze, sniffle, or whimper in his sleep, I’d wake up. I slowly got out of bed and went up front. I quickly took a shower and got dressed, then went to Scooter’s bunk.

“Scooter!” I whispered. He opened his eyes and sat up.

“Hm?”

“Sorry to wake you. I’m going to get Justin’s allergy prescription filled. I should be back before he wakes up, though,” I whispered. He nodded.

“See you in a sec,” I said, leaving. He laid down and went right back to sleep. I grabbed my purse and Justin’s prescription. I put my phone in my pocket, got my keys, and left. At the drugstore, I dropped of Justin’s prescription. While it was being filled, I got some things for Justin. Liquid NyQuil, liquid decongestant, two boxes of tissues, orange Gatorade, Jell-o, and plain yogurt. I paid for it, picked up his allergy medicine prescription, and got in the car. Just as I was pulling out of the parking lot, my phone rang. I pulled onto the main road and answered it while I was driving.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Pattie?” I heard my mother’s voice ring through the speakers. I perked up a little.

“Hey, Mom!”

“Hey, what’s wrong? You sound stressed and you haven’t been calling.”

“It’s Justin-“ I started, but she cut me off.

“Is he giving you trouble?”

“No, Mom, he’s an angel. He’s just really sick.”

“Awwww, poor thing. How’s he holding up?” I sighed.

“Not too good. He can’t even sit up on his own!”

“What does he have?”

“The flu, Strep, a chest infection, and mild Pneumonia.”

“All at once?!?!”

“Yup. All viral, too. Oh, and we accidentally parked the caravan in a field of Ragweed, and he forgot his allergy medicine in Atlanta.”

“Omigosh! Poor baby! No wonder you’re stressed! What are you doing now?” she asked.

“Driving home from the drugstore. I got another prescription of Justin’s allergy medicine,” I replied.

“Oh. Well, I hate to spring this on you, I really do, but one of Jeremy’s friends got shot, and he’ll be taking care of him for a couple months. Jazzy can’t stay with him, and she has nowhere to go-“ she started, but this time I cut her off.

“She can come on tour with us!”

“Really? You don’t mind?”

“No! Not at all! She’s my daughter!!”

“Good.”

“When is she coming?” I asked.

“Well, we were hoping to get a flight tonight. Where are y’all right now?” she asked.

“Nashville, Tennessee. Has she gotten her flu shot yet?” I asked.

“No. We’ll go get it today. I would hate for you to have to take care of two sick children,” she said.

“Yeah. And maybe put some Emergen-C or Pedialyte or something in her sippy cup instead of water, to maybe boost her Immune System a little.”

“Yes, of course. Most likely this will be the first time she’s exposed to this stuff.”

“Well, since Justin can’t perform right now, we won’t be moving for a while. Would y’all like to come down, too? Justin would love to see you and Dad,” I offered.

“Sure! We’ll come for a few days, help take care of him.”

“Thanks. Just be careful, I don’t want anyone else getting sick,” I warned.

“Ok. I’ll call you tonight when we’re boarding the plane, okay?”

“Sure. Thanks, Mom,” I said.

“Sure thing, Honey. See you soon!” she replied.

“You too. Bye!”

“Bye!” I hung up and tossed my phone onto the passenger’s seat. As soon as I got back to the bus, I put all of the stuff I bought away and set Justin’s medicine bottle on the counter. I peeked in his room, only to find him still fast asleep. I closed the door quietly and was about to leave when I heard him cough.

“Momma?” I heard his hoarse, congested voice call. I opened the door and walked in, closing it behind me. I sat down next to him on the bed and brushed his bangs back.

“Hey, Sweetheart. How you feeling?” I asked, feeling his forehead to see if the fever had gone down any. It hadn’t.

“Horrible,” he answered pathetically. Suddenly his breath hitched. His eyes fluttered, his jaw went slack, and his nostrils flared. I handed him a tissue and he held it to his face, muffling the congested sneezes that followed.

“Hepshoo! Hepshoo! Husshhoo! Hupshh! Huh! Hupshoo!” Sensing he was on the verge of a full-out allergy attack, I stood.

“Bless you. Let me go get your allergy medicine.” He nodded slightly, a tortured pre-sneeze expression on his face.

“Hupshoo! Hupshoo! Hepshoo!!” I went up front, opened the bottle, and shook one pill out, hearing Justin sneezing continuously. I got a glass and filled it with ice and Gatorade. I went back and found that Justin had miraculously found a way to sit up. I handed him the pill and held the glass for him. He swallowed the pill and leaned away from the cup to take a breath.

“What is that?” he asked, the allergy attack making his congested voice sound even more nasal.

“Gatorade,” I answered, and he nodded. He twisted to the side and sneezed into the used, balled-up tissue in his right hand.

“Husshhoo!”

“Bless you,” I said, handing him a fresh tissue. He threw away the other one and blew his nose. After throwing away that one, I cajoled him to drink more from the cup in my hands. He paused between small sips to pull away and breathe, and I urged him to drink as much as he wanted, hoping the sugary drink would give him some strength. After drinking almost half the glass, he leaned away to breathe again.

“Stop. I can’t drink anymore,” he said, taking little gasping breaths. I set the cup on his nightstand and pulled him into a loose hug, kissing the top of his head. I let him go after a minute.

“I don’t want you to get dehydrated, Sweetheart,” I explained, and he nodded.

“Now, you hungry?” I asked. He shrugged, then nodded. After listing all the foods the doctor said he could eat, he picked Jell-o. I smiled a little. I knew that he was gonna pick Jell-o before I even asked. I went up front and poured on the little cups into a bowl. It was cherry, his favorite. I grabbed a spoon and the bottle of decongestant and went back into his room. I sat down next to his bed and propped him up on some pillows.

“Ok, Honey. Medicine now or after you eat?” I asked. He shrugged.

“What’s it for?”

“So you’re not as stuffed up,” I explained.

“I pick now,” he said quickly. Chuckling, I opened the bottle and poured out a spoonful. He opened his mouth and I slipped the spoon in. His face crumpled in disgust and he leaned away, only having taken half of the spoonful. He swallowed, though it was obvious he didn’t want to.

“Ew,” he breathed softly.

“How much of that do I need to take?” he asked. I read the bottle.

“Two teaspoons.” He made another face and took the rest of the spoonful. I poured another one and he took that one, too, half-teaspoons at a time. When he was done, I capped the bottle and set it down. I could tell by the look on his face that he was nauseated. I scooped up a small spoonful of Jell-o and held the spoon out to him. He reluctantly took it. I fed him another small spoonful. He then laid both hands on his stomach and closed his eyes, moaning softly.

“You wanna eat later?” I asked. He nodded, a queasy look on his face.

“You ok?” he shrugged. I held the cup of Gatorade and helped him take a couple sips. He drank the rest of the cup, then laid back.

“Better?”

“Yeah. It tasted so bad,” he said. He sniffled wetly, stared off, then sniffled again. His eyes squinted, half shut, and his jaw went slack, his mouth hanging open a little. He looked almost pained as he brought his hands to cup his nose and mouth, nostrils flaring.

“Huh!” he breathed, his breath hitching softly.

“Huh…Huh! Ugh!” The sneeze seemed to be torturing him. Finally his eyelids slid shut and he gasped, snapping forward as the sneeze took over him.

“Huh! Huhpshoo!”

“Bless you.” He made no effort to move his hands, and his eyes shut once again.

“Hupshoo! Hepshoo!! Hah! Huhkushoo! Huhkshoo!!” His sneezes sounded harsh and wet. A soft, breathy moan escape from behind his hands, and I could tell the need to sneeze was still there. I held a tissue out to him and he took his hands away from his face to take it from me.

“Hepshoo!! Huhshoo!” He sneezed full and uncovered towards his chest.

“Sor- So- Huhpshoo!! Huh! Hahhptshieww!!!” He sneezed into the tissue in his left hand.

“Huhtshiew!” He sniffled and wiped his nose with the tissue, seeming to be done.

“Sorry,” he sighed.

“Nothing to be sorry about. Bless you, Sweetheart,” I said. Times, like, 10. He balled up the tissue and threw it away.

“Huktshiew! Hupshiew!!” He barely caught the sneezes in the crook of his arm. He turned and buried his face into his sleeve, muffling more wet sneezes.

“Huhpshh! Hepshh! Huhptshh! Huhktshh! Hah! Hahpshh!!”

“Bless you!” He sighed and laid back, his eyes rimmed in red.

“H’nxxt! H’nxxt! H’nxxshh! Huhxxshiew!!” he stifled into his hand. Before I could say anything, he started again, fully stifled this time.

“H’nxxt!! H’nxxt!! H’nxxxt!!” He took his hand away, exhausted.

“Bless you. Don’t stifle them, Sweetheart, it’s not good for you,” I said. He nodded. I handed him a tissue.

“Blow. You don’t want to get a Sinus Infection, too,” I warned. He nodded and complied, throwing the tissue away afterwards.

“I wonder what set off your allergies all of a sudden. I mean, you just took the medicine.” He shrugged and coughed. He closed his eyes with a soft sigh of resignation and swallowed hard.

“You want something to drink?” He opened his eyes and nodded.

“Thanks,” he said weakly. I smiled. I always know what he needs. Not like he’d ever ask for anything. I went up front and opened the fridge. I went to grab the Gatorade, but my eyes wandered to the can beside it. When’s the last time he’s had soft drinks? Mama Jan never lets him. But, what the heck? He’s sick. May as well. Might even give the poor kid some hype. I grabbed the can, rinsed the Gatorade out of his cup, got some ice, then poured the soft drink in. I went back to him and propped him up on a couple pillows. I held the cup to his lips and he took a sip, then pulled away to breathe. He looked at me, his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised.

“Don’t tell Scooter or Mama Jan,” I said, smiling. He nodded and kept drinking.

“Don’t tell them what?” The door opened and Usher came in. He closed the door behind him and sat in the chair next to me.

“I gave him some Sprite. To settle his stomach.” Usher chuckled.

“Oh, okay. I won’t tell. It does help with nausea, though.” I nodded. Justin drank half the cup before I pulled it away and set it back down.

“Okay, baby. That’s enough, you’re gonna get yourself sick on that stuff.” He smiled weakly. He then yawned and coughed a couple times.

“Tired?” I asked.

“Huh! Huhpshoo!! Yeahhhapshiew!!” I helped him lay flat and kissed his forehead. He sniffled and smiled weakly. Soon he was fast asleep.

[BlueKeeper]

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG THANK YOU SOOOO MUUUUUUUCHHHH!!!!! YOU JUST MADE MY DAY!!!

[ThatSneezyGirl]

You updated!!!!!! Yay!!

[Bgrace27]

AMAZING!!!!!!

[purpleninja]

okay, sorry if you're afraid of puke...this part has a small scene that you might wanna skip over if you are. Sorry

Later that Day/Night

9:36 P.M.

I was sitting on the couch watching TV with Scooter and Usher when I heard Justin start coughing again. I had left so I could let him rest, take a shower, and do everything else I needed to do, but I’ve been hearing him coughing constantly the whole day.

“I’m gonna go check on Justin, kay?” I announced, standing up.

“Okay. Come get me if he needs anything,” Scooter said. Usher nodded in agreement.

“Alright,” I said, walking towards Justin’s room. I went in quietly and closed the door behind me. Justin lay, awake, with his hands folded over his stomach, whimpering and coughing. I went and sat on the edge of his bed. I could tell he was much, much worse. He was pale white, though his nose and cheeks were bright red. His eyes had deep, dark circles under them, and he couldn’t stop coughing. He had a queasy look on his face.

“You okay, baby?” I asked, concerned about his worsening state of health. He shook his head weakly.

“You wanna go to the bathroom?” He nodded and tried to sit up, but failed miserably. He could barely even lift his head off the pillow. I stood and picked him up. His body was just radiating intense heat, but he was shivering violently. His teeth chattered, yet there were beads of sweat forming at the base of his forehead. I carried him to the bathroom and set him down in front of the toilet. He sat back and moaned, his voice hoarse and even more congested than before.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back,” I said. I went and got his cup off the nightstand, which was now filled with Gatorade once again, and went back. I knelt down next to him and started rubbing his back in gentle circles. He coughed into his hand and moaned again. He looked at me, his eyes teary, silently begging for help. I was overcome with sympathy. I gently hugged him, then let go and kissed his cheek.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby,” I soothed. The tears built up in his eyes and spilled over. I rubbed his back soothingly.

“You wanna drink a little?” He nodded. I held the cup while he took a couple small sips.

“You didn’t eat today, did you?” He shook his head “no.” I set the cup on the counter.

“I’ve pretty much been nauseous all day,” he whispered. He closed his eyes and moaned softly again. He pulled himself over the toilet and threw up everything he had just drank. I rubbed his back in small circles until he finished. By that time, he was sobbing. I heard the bedroom door open and soon Usher and Scooter appeared in the doorway. Justin started throwing up again. After about 15 minutes, he stopped and sat back, sobbing.

“You done?” He shrugged.

“I-I dunno,” he whined. I looked up at Scooter and Usher.

“Y’all can go back, I got it,” I said. Reluctantly, they slowly nodded and left. I got a tissue and wiped Justin’s rapidly-running nose. He pulled away quickly and turned to his right, away from me.

“Huhpshoo!!” he sneezed, uncovered, towards the floor. He brought his arm up but only got it halfway before sneezing again.

“Huhpshoo! Hepshoo!!” he sneezed onto his elbow, just inches from his face.

“Ugh, gross,” he muttered under his breath, letting his arm drop to his side. I brushed my fingers through his hair.

“Bless you. And it’s not gross, Sweetheart. It really isn’t,” I reassured him, turning his head to face me and wiping his nose gently. I heard my phone ring from its place on Justin’s nightstand. Justin looked at me.

“I’ll answer it later,” I explained. He nodded and yawned.

“You wanna go back to bed or no?”

“No,” he replied weakly.

“You still nauseous?”

“Yeah.” I then noticed how hard he was shaking.

“Wait here,” I said, standing up. I went and got an old blanket and came back. I sat cross-legged on the floor next to him and he laid his head in my lap. He shook even harder as the rest of his body lay curled on the cold floor. He buried his head in my lap and sobbed.

“Hold on, Sweetheart,” I said, picking him up. I laid the old blanket on the floor and over my lap, then set him on top of it. I took the excess blanket and wrapped it around him. He curled up next to me, his head in my lap, facing outward. I reached up and grabbed the box of tissues, setting it on the floor to my right, behind Justin’s back. I then grabbed his cup and set it next to the tissues.

“Be careful, the cup of Gatorade is right behind you, okay?”

“O-ok-kay,” he sobbed. I plucked a tissue from the box and gave it to him.

“You just hold onto that, okay?” He nodded. I rubbed his back until he fell asleep. Just after he dozed off, Scooter came in and handed me my phone.

“It keeps ringing. It’s your mom,” he said.

“Okay. I’ll call her back later.” I told Scooter about Jazzy and my parents coming earlier today.

“Kay. How’s Justin?” he asked, pointing to the peacefully sleeping 14-year-old on my lap.

“Worse. I think his fever’s even higher. I’m gonna check it in a second.” He frowned, concerned.

“You wanna take him to bed?”

“Yeah, I think so,” I said. He uncovered Justin and placed his hands under Justin’s arms, slowly lifting him up. Justin’s eyes opened slowly.

“Hey, buddy, I’m bringing you to bed, okay?” Justin shook his head “no.”

“No, I’m really nauseous,” he mumbled. Scooter looked at me. I shrugged.

“Let him stay here, I guess,” I said. Scooter came and set Justin down in the exact same position as before. Justin rolled onto his back, and Scooter sat down next to me.

“Scooter, can you just go get the thermometer, please?”

“Sure,” he said, and went to go get it. He came back and handed it to me before sitting back down. I felt Justin’s forehead, then cheeks, then forehead again and gently placed the thermometer in his mouth, keeping my hand on his forehead. After a minute, it beeped. I took it out and looked at it, then gasped. It read 104.2.

“What is it?” Scooter asked anxiously. I showed him the reading.

“I’ll go get some Tylenol,” he said, getting up.

“Thanks,” I replied, and he left.

“Is it bad?” I heard Justin mumble weakly.

“Umm…yeah, it’s bad, Sweetie. It’s 104.2. But it’ll be okay. The Tylenol will help.” He nodded and leaned away from me, unfolding the crumpled tissue in his hand and holding it to his face. His breath hitched and his chest expanded rapidly.

“Huhp-TSHoo!!” he sneezed messily, harsh and congested. He balled up the tissue and threw it away in the trash can, then turned back towards me.

“Bless you,” I said, plucking out two tissues and holding them gently to his face.

“Blow.” He lethargically complied. When he was done, I wiped his nose and threw the tissue away.

“Better?” He nodded before turning and launching into a slight coughing fit just as Scooter walked in with the bottle of Tylenol and a spoon. The crackling sound from deep in Justin’s chest echoed through the large master bedroom. After a couple minutes he stopped coughing and cringed.

“Ow,” he whimpered. Scooter handed me the medicine and I fed him two spoonfuls. I capped the bottle and Scooter took it and the spoon from me.

“I’ll go bring this back upfront,” he said.

“Wait, hold on a second,” I said. I coaxed Justin to sleep in minutes. I waited until he was nearly out to speak.

“While you’re up there, get a large bowl and a cup of ice,” I instructed.

“Okay,” he said, confused, and left. He came back with both things.

“Ok, now fill the bowl with cold water, then put the ice in,” I said. Scooter did it.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Try and break his fever. Or at least lower it,” I answered. Scooter nodded and got a washcloth, catching on to my plan. He came and set the bowl if ice-water next to me and sat down.

“Thanks,” I said, taking the washcloth from him and soaking it in the icy water. I wrung some of the excess water out and gently wiped down Justin’s face. I did so for about 20 minutes before my phone rang. I answered it, still gently wiping Justin’s face with one hand.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hey, Pattie. How’s Justin?” my mom asked. I sighed.

“Worse. He’s throwing up again, he hasn’t eaten anything today, and his fever’s higher.”

“Aw!! The poor dear! What’s his temperature?”

“104.2. I gave him some Tylenol and I’m trying to break it.”

“Oh my gosh! Poor thing, he must feel horrible!”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine.”

“Well, I’m calling you to tell you that we’re boarding the plane now. Jazzy got a flu shot, and I’ve been giving her vitamins, Emergen-C, and Pedialyte. Also, today, the doctor gave her a Vitamin B injection, and he says her Immune System should hold up well. She’s fine to go by him, as long as she doesn’t eat or drink after him,” she reported.

“Oh, that’s good!”

“Yes, and I’m not wearing any perfume, so Justin won’t be sensitive to it with his allergies,” she said.

“Oh, thanks, mom. What time are you gonna be in?”

“Around 6:00 tomorrow morning. Are you okay with that? Or is it too early?” she asked.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll be there,” I replied.

“Okay, good. So what are you doing now?”

“Um…I’m in the bathroom with Justin. He’s asleep on my lap and I’m trying to break his fever,” I answered.

“Awwww!!” Scooter nudged me.

“Tell your mom I said ‘hi’,” he whispered.

“And Scooter says ‘hi’,” I added.

“Oh, well tell him I said ‘hi’, too. How is he and everyone else?”

“Good, good. Scooter, she says ‘hi’ back,” I said to Scooter.

“Okay, well, I gotta go. The flight attendant giving me dirty looks for being on the phone,” she said. I laughed.

“Okay, see you tomorrow,” I answered.

“Oh, wait! Jazzy wants to talk to you,” she said. I smiled. Jazmyn and Jaxon are mine; I gave birth to them. They live with Jeremy because it’s too complicated with little kids on tour. But I miss them so much all the time.

“Hi, Mama!” I heard Jazzy’s sweet little voice on the other line.

“Hey! You ready to see Justin?” I asked.

“Yah! My Bieber!”

“Haha, yeah.”

“Where Unca Scootah?” she asked.

“Right here,” I said, handing the phone to Scooter. They talked for a little while about random things.

“No, Bieber’s sleeping,” Scooter said.

“Hey, it’s okay! You can talk to Bieber tomorrow!”

“There you go. See you tomorrow! Bye!” He handed me the phone.

“She wants to say goodbye,” he said. I nodded and put the phone to my ear.

“Goodnight, Mama!”

“Goodnight, Sweetheart! I love you,” I said.

“I love you too, Mama!”

“Ok, goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” We both hung up. I looked at the time on my phone.

“What time is it?” Scooter asked.

“Almost 10:30. I have to get up at 5:30 to pick them up from the airport,” I said.

“Let’s take Justin to bed, then,” Scooter replied. I nodded.

“Okay.” Scooter stood and carefully picked Justin up. I stood, leaving the old blanket on the floor. I wrung the washcloth out and laid it on the edge of the sink to dry. I poured the bowl of ice water down the sink drain and just set the bowl on the counter. I grabbed his cup and the thermometer and followed Scooter out of the bathroom. Scooter laid Justin down and covered him. Scooter and I both cleaned up a little. I put the old blanket in the bathroom in the dirty clothes, brought the bowl, all the empty cups, bowls, and spoons upfront and loaded the dishwasher. I emptied out Justin’s little trash can into the big one in the kitchen. We both made all the bunk beds. When we were done, all that was on Justin’s nightstand was a box of tissues, the thermometer, a fresh glass of Gatorade, and a bottle of water. Scooter and I said goodnight and we all went to bed, including Usher, who is staying over tonight, also. Ah, finally, sleep! I kissed Justin’s forehead and got in bed next to him. He lay on his left side, his back to me. I closed my eyes and quickly fell asleep.

Merry Christmas!!!

[ThatSneezyGirl]

Like I said, love this story!!! This whole story has inspired me with some of my stories read closely and you'll see Merry Christmas!!!

[Bgrace27]

its really really good!

[purpleninja]

sorry it's been so long....I have NOT forgotten about you guys!!

2:15 A.M.

I woke up to the deep, wet, crackling sound of Justin in an intense coughing fit. And just when I thought the poor kid could not possibly sound any worse! I rubbed his back until he stopped. He turned on his back and started coughing again into his right hand.

“You okay, Sweetheart?” He was coughing so much he couldn’t even answer. I reached over him and got the bottle of water. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and helped him sit up a little. I opened the water and handed it to him. He took little sips, coughing in between. After a couple minutes, he seemed to stop for good.

“Ok, you alright?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He coughed twice, capped the bottle, and set it back down on the nightstand. I helped him lay flat, and he laid on his back, his left arm up by his head, with his head facing slightly to the left. He cupped his right hand over his mouth and nose loosely.

“Huh! Hupshoo!! Huh…Huh! Huhp-shiew!! Huktshiew!!”

“Bless you,” I said.

“Thanks.” He brought down and rested it on top of his stomach. He took a deep breath and was asleep in minutes.

“Huhhpshiew!! Hepshiew!” He sneezed in his sleep, followed by a cough and a sniffle. I chuckled silently before closing my eyes and falling asleep.

Day 5

5:30 A.M.

I woke up to my phone alarm beeping obnoxiously in my ear. I quickly turned it off. I got up just as Justin woke up.

“Mom? What are you doing?” he asked groggily.

“Nothing, Sweetheart, go back to sleep.” I noticed he was shaking violently, his teeth chattering. He looked like he was freezing, his face so pale it was honestly ridiculous.

“You want a sweatshirt, baby?” I asked. He nodded. I went over to his dresser and got out a black, comfortable-looking sweatshirt, his favorite one. He likes how soft and warm it is. I walked back over to him and helped him sit up. I slipped the sweatshirt over his head and guided his arms through the holes. He laid back down and I covered him, but he was still shivering madly.

“You still cold?” I asked. He nodded, teeth chattering. I went and got another blanket and laid it on top of the bed. He was now covered with the sheet, comforter, and two blankets. And he’s still cold.

“Try to go back to sleep, baby,” I said, sitting on the edge of his bed and stroking his cheek. He responded by turning away from me and burying his face into his sleeve.

“Hektshoo!!” He sneezed harshly, and it sounded painful.

“Bless you.”

“Hupshh!!” He sneezed into the crook of his arm, the intensity of his sneezes forcing him upwards from his laying position.

“Bless you.”

“Thanks,” he croaked. He’s so congested, it’s insane. His voice is scratchy and thick, and VERY congested. I laid a hand on his forehead, still alarmed at the radiation coming from his fever-ridden body.

“How about this: you go to sleep, get some rest, and when you wake up, I’ll have a surprise for you. How does that sound?” He smiled weakly.

“Good. Thanks, Mom,” he said quietly. I kissed his forehead.

“No problem. Now, go to sleep, Sweetheart,” I urged, looking at the clock. Shit! I’m gonna be late picking them up. He closed his eyes and was asleep in minutes. I rushed to my room and got dressed. I wrote a note for Scooter explaining where I was if anything were to happen while I’m gone. I grabbed my phone and my purse and ran out, then jumped in my car and took off for the airport. I was late; it was gonna be about 6:30 by the time I got there. I called my mom once I got on the road.

“Hey, Pattie. Where are you?” she asked upon picking up.

“I’m so sorry, Mom. I’m on my way. I couldn’t get Justin to sleep, and I didn’t want to leave him there awake and alone in case he needed something, and-“ I explained, and she cut me off.

“Pattie, calm down. It’s alright,” she reassured.

“Okay. Thanks, Mom. I’m on my way, though.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a sec,” she said.

“You, too. Bye, Mom,” I said.

“Bye, Honey!” I hung up and concentrated on where I was going. Once I got there, I found them in the waiting area with their bags already. My dad was asleep in a chair, holding Jazzy, who is also peacefully sleeping. My mom stood up and hugged me tightly.

“Hey, Mom!” I greeted her, smiling.

“Hi, Honey,” she said, pulling out of the hug and also grinning. She nudged my dad.

“Bruce, she’s here. Time to go.” My dad stood and gave me a half-hug, holding Jazzy.

“Alright, let’s go. I wanna see my grandson. I’m worried about him,” my mom said.

“Me, too, Mom,” I agreed, helping them with their luggage. When we got to the car, I put their suitcases in the trunk and got in the driver’s seat. My mom got in the passenger seat and my dad got in the backseat with Jazzy.

“I’m gonna have to get Jazzy a car seat,” I said.

“Yeah,” my dad agreed. We talked about Justin the whole ride back to the bus. Once we got there, we brought the luggage in, and my dad decided to take a nap.

“I’m just so jet-lag,” he explained.

“I know how that feels,” I said, taking Jazzy from him. He went and laid down on one of the bunks and fell asleep. It was only about 7:00, so my mom and I were the only ones up. We went into Justin’s room and I laid Jazzy, who was still fast asleep, in bed next to Justin. She turned and snuggled into him burying her face in his chest and clutching his shirt. My mom sat in the chair closest to his bed, and I sat next to her. She reached out and felt Justin’s forehead, then gasped.

“Omigosh, Pattie! He’s so hot!!” she whisper-yelled. I nodded.

“Won’t come down for anything,” I whispered back.

E n d

J u s t i n

I felt a soft, cool hand stroke my cheek, and something warm by my chest and stomach. I opened my eyes sleepily and saw my grandmother’s concerned face. I looked down and saw Jazzy cuddled up to me.

“Bieber,” she said in her sleep, clutching my shirt tighter.

“Hi, Honey, how you feeling?” my grandma asked softly.

“Horrible,” I replied, my voice hoarse and ridiculously congested, “Where’s Grandpa?” I asked.

“Sleeping like an old man,” she answered. I smiled weakly, then turned away from her and coughed into my right hand. When I was done, I turned back to her.

“Oh. My. Gosh. Sweetie, you sound awful!” I nodded, shivering.

“You’re still cold?” my mom asked. I nodded. Suddenly a hitched breath consumed my lungs. My mom handed me a tissue and I leaned to the right, away from her.

“Hupshoo!! Hehpshoo!! Huhpshh!!” I sneezed into the tissue, my body expelling the germs and allergens that were plaguing me, along with a whole lot of thick mucus. Glad I had that tissue! I wiped my nose and sniffled, then threw the tissue away.

“Bless you,” my grandma said softly.

“Th-thanks,” I said as I felt a fresh tickle in my nose.

“Huhpshoo!!” I sneezed into my sleeve.

“Bless you,” she repeated.

“Huh!!” The itch flared up, then receded. I relaxed a little bit. I started uncovering myself and forced myself to sit up.

“What are you doing?” my mom asked, her voice laced with worry.

“I gotta use the bathroom,” I said, slowly getting up. The room was spinning wildly, and I had to hold on to the bed and inch myself forward. My mom came and helped me to the bathroom. She waited outside while I used the bathroom. I went and started washing my hands as the tickle in my nose flared up again.

“Husshhoo!!” I sneezed, not even bothering to cover.

“Bless y-“

“Hesshhoo!!”

“Bless you,” my mom repeated from the other side of the door.

“Wait,” I answered, turning off the water and drying my hands. The tickle intensified, and I stopped in my tracks in the middle of the bathroom.

“Wait, what?” my mom asked.

“Husshhoo!! Hushoo! Hashiew!! Hashiew-Hushiew!!! Hupshiew!!” I let out a rapid fire of six harsh, wet sneezes, aimed towards my chest; I was too tired to cover. I heard the knob turn, and I quickly grabbed a tissue before my mom came in.

“Bless you, Hon,” she said.

“Have you taken your allergy medicine yet?” she asked. I shrugged and held the tissue to my face.

“Hepshoo!! Hepshoo! Hapshoo!! Hupshoo!!! Hupshoo! Hepshoo! Huh!! HUHTshoo!!” I took the tissue away and cringed.

“Ow,” I whimpered, putting a hand on my sore throat.

“Let me go get your medicine,” my mom said. She helped me back to bed and propped me up on some pillows. Jazzy now lay snuggled into my side. My mom left and quickly came back with a pill in one hand. She handed it to me and I opened the bottle of water that was on my nightstand. I swallowed the small pill and handed the bottle back to her.

“You hungry?” she asked me and set the water bottle back down on my nightstand. I shook my head “no,” and she looked concerned, but nodded. The truth is, I am hungry, but I don’t want anyone, even my grandma, to see my mom have to feed me. Well, except for Scooter and Usher, because they’ve already seen it. And Mama Jan. Suddenly, my stomach growled loudly. My mom looked at me skeptically.

“Soup?” she asked. I sighed and nodded, giving in. She left for a couple minutes and came back with a small bowl of hot soup.

“Hey, Mom, can I sit there for a sec? I need to get closer to him,” my mom said.

“Sure, sure!” my grandma answered, getting up and sitting in the next chair over. My mom sat down in the chair closest to my bed and ladled a spoonful of broth. Eyeing my grandmother the whole time, I opened my mouth reluctantly. My mom slipped the spoon in my mouth, and I swallowed. She took the spoon back out. My grandmother looked confused and worried. I dropped my eyes and felt tears of pure humiliation prick my eyes. My mom fed me another spoonful as they spilled over and ran down my cheeks. I wiped them quickly, keeping my head down.

“What’s wrong, baby?” my mom asked, tilting my head up and wiping my tears with her thumb.

“Nothing. I just really don’t feel good, I guess,” I lied. She looked at me skeptically.

“That’s not it. Something’s bothering you. What is it, Sweetheart?” she asked gently. I shook my head, watching my grandma out of the corners of my eyes.

“Why are you crying, baby?”

“I-I don’t knowww!” I let out a small sob. She gave me another skeptical look but just nodded. She kept feeding me and I couldn’t stop crying for anything. Eventually I had eaten all the broth, and my mom set the empty bowl on my nightstand.

“What’s wrong, Justin?” she asked softly. I shook my head “no” and coughed a couple times. Suddenly the door opened and Scooter came in.

“Good morning!” he said, then looked at me, and his face fell in concern.

“What’s wrong, Juss?” I shook his head weakly. Scooter looked to my mom, and she just shrugged.

“He won’t tell me,” she said.

“You think I could maybe talk to him?” Scooter asked. I started to quiet down just a little.

“Sure,” she said, standing up. My mom followed my grandma out of the room.

E n d

TBC!!

[Bgrace27]

It keeps getting better and better!

[ThatSneezyGirl]

Love it!!! This story is so sweet! Also, I wrote another part to Izzy's Diary so look for the update soon

[purpleninja]

@secretsneezelover27 Thank you!! I try my hardest to constantly improve my writing. They're always room for improvement!

@smalltownbieber THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR UPDATING!!!!! More!!! (Please!! ASAP!!)

S c o o t e r

I closed the door after Pattie and her mother left. I went and sat down in the chair next to Justin’s bed. He started to calm down and go quiet.

“What’s going on?” I asked softly.

“I…I just got…kind of…embarrassed,” he mumbled, looking down and blushing.

“Because you mom had to…?” He nodded.

“Yeah, I just got a little embarrassed and once they started I couldn’t stop,” he admitted. I grabbed him gently and pulled him onto my lap.

“Hey, man, it’s okay. I mean, seriously, she’s your grandma. They love you no matter what. And I bet you she’s some worried about you,” I said. He nodded and leaned into me.

“Are you feeling any better?” I asked, just out of curiosity. He shrugged.

“I don’t know. I mean, I guess so.”

2 Days Later

“He awake?” I asked Pattie. She shrugged.

“I don’t know. You can go see if you want,” she said. I nodded and went back into Justin’s room. I went in and closed the door behind me. Justin lay motionless in bed, on his stomach like always. I went and stood by his bed. I smiled a little bit. I reached out and felt his forehead, and he opened his eyes slowly.

“Hey, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” I said. He shook his head.

“It’s fine,” he said, then turned and sat up.

“Your fever’s almost gone,” I commented. He nodded and smiled a little bit.

“I feel a lot better,” he said.

“Good,” I replied. Sure, his voice is still a little scratchy and he’s still very congested; sure, he’s still got a cough that sounds like crumpling paper; sure, he’s still got a sore throat and he sneezes every couple minutes, but overall he’s doing a lot better. Except for his appetite. That’s not doing too well, but it’ll get better in time. He gets hungry, but he still for some strange reason just does not have the energy to feed himself. He can just barely sit up and walk, and not for too long. He sleeps a lot and he’s always tired. He still has a fever of 102.5, last time I checked.

“You wanna come up front?” I asked. He shrugged.

“Yeah, sure,” he said quietly. He got out of bed and started walking shakily up front. I followed him, noting how weak he still is. He sat down on the couch and erupted in a harsh, crackling coughing fit. He was shirtless, so you could see his abs clenching and relaxing. Once he was done, he went and got his phone off the counter. Jazzy came and sat on his lap while he checked Twitter. Suddenly he turned to the right, away from Jazzy and everybody else, and brought his right hand to cup loosely over his nose and mouth.

“Hupshoo!! Husshhoo!!! Hupshh!!” He let out three very congested sneezes; we still don’t know why his allergies are going haywire so much.

“Bless you, Sweetheart,” Pattie said from the kitchen where she was cooking dinner.

“Thanks,” he said, turning back to his phone. I went and sat down next to him.

“Once we can get going with the tour again, Chaz and Ryan are coming back down,” I told Justin.

“Really?” he asked, snapping his head up and giving me his full attention.

“Yup. But we have to wait until you’re totally recovered,” I said. He nodded and coughed a couple times.

“Oh, and Mama Jan wants to do a little vocal rehearsal tomorrow to see where you are,” I added. He nodded.

“And then we do this show, then we can keep going?” he asked. I nodded.

“Basically, yeah. But you’re not getting on that stage with an 102 degree fever,” I said. He sulked a little, but nodded.

“101?”

“Nope.”

“100?”

“Maybe. But probably not.”

“99?”

“Possible. Depends on how you’re doing overall,” I answered. He nodded and coughed.

“See, that’s gotta be gone. For the most part,” I said. He pouted, but nodded.

“Don’t be sad, Bieber!” Jazzy said, then kissed his cheek. He smiled and kissed her forehead.

“I won’t, Babygirl,” he said. I smiled. They have the cutest bond ever!!! Pattie finished cooking, and we all sat down to eat. Of course, I kept noticing that Justin ate two bites. That’s it. Literally. I nudged him under the table, and he gave me a questioning look. I pointed my chin discreetly to his plate, which was full. He let out a small sigh and picked up his fork. He took one small bite, then suddenly the fork slipped from his hand and landed with a loud clatter on his plate. Everybody turned their heads.

“Sorry,” he said, blushing and picking up his fork. He went and took another bite, then quietly set his fork back down. I sighed, concerned, but didn’t say anything more. He kept very quiet the rest of the time, obviously trying not to draw attention to himself or how little he’s eaten.

“Hupshh!!” he sneezed suddenly into his palm.

“Bless you,” I said. He nodded.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. After dinner, which Justin managed to get out of, he went and took a shower, then got dressed in more pajamas and went and laid down in bed. I got him a bowl of Jell-o and a spoon and went back there. I closed the door behind me and went and sat down by his bed.

“You think you could eat a little for me?” I asked. He nodded sleepily. I spoon-fed him a bite, and he ate it weakly, barely able to keep his eyes all the way open. Not even halfway through, Pattie came in with Jazzy, who’s been sleeping every night with Justin since she got here. Pattie closed the door behind her and set Jazzy on the bed. Jazzy went over and sat by Justin’s stomach.

“Hey, Bieber,” she said. Justin swallowed.

“Hey, Babygirl,” he said weakly. I fed him another bite, and he took it weakly.

“I has some, Bieber?” Jazzy asked.

“No, Babygirl, you don’t wanna get sick,” Justin answered quietly. He laid back against the pillows while I kept feeding him gently. His eyelids started to droop heavily and his head started to fall back a little.

“Hey, man, can you finish this before you go to sleep?” I asked softly. He nodded weakly and forced his eyes open. I fed him another two bites before he started to go to sleep again.

“Justin,” I called softly, and he woke up again. He brought his right hand to his face and coughed harshly.

“Oh, baby, you sound worse!” Pattie exclaimed sympathetically. He just kept coughing for a couple minutes, then stopped. I fed him another bite.

“Hupshh!!” He sneezed suddenly, his hand just barely making it to his face in time.

“Blesshoo, Bieber,” Jazzy said and kissed his cheek. He smiled a little bit and kept eating. Eventually I got him to finish, then helped him lay down flat. He was asleep in mere seconds, with Jazzy snuggled up to him, burying her face in his stomach. I kissed his forehead, then automatically reeled back at the heat coming from it. I felt his forehead, then grabbed the thermometer that was on the nightstand. I took Justin’s temperature and was shocked at the reading. I turned off his lamp and left quietly, closing the door behind me. I marched straight up to Pattie and showed her the thermometer.

“Oh, gosh,” she groaned when she looked at the little screen, which read 103.7.

“How did that happen?” she asked me. I shrugged.

“I went and kissed his forehead before I left, and he was burning up,” I said. She sighed.

“I hope it’ll go down by tomorrow,” she said. I nodded.

E n d

okay, the next part has puking...are y'all okay with that? If not, I can take it out. Don't hesitate, just tell me. (I'm terrified of puke but somehow I can write it...I know, I'm a freak)

[BlueKeeper]

im bbbbbbaaaaaaaacckkkk! somehow i didnt even notice this was updated.

i feel ashamed. please forgive me *kneels down*

anyhow, i LOVE IT!!!!!

puking i love not so much ....or at all do not torture yourself writing such a horrible thing. I watched a movie with puke and i was so upset i cried. call me a baby, but i like fluff

BUT DO WHATEVER YA WANT...i love Jazzy so much! *swoons*

[ThatSneezyGirl]

Haha you're welcome And I absolutly love this!!! and you write whatever you want love. I mean yeah, i'm not totally on bored with the whole idea, but if you wanna put it up, go right ahead! I'll still love this story

[purpleninja]

@chocolit4life YAY!! I was starting to wonder where you went! And I will find a way to take the puke out of the next part. It's not graphic in the first place, but boy, are you right! Fluff is ALWAYS better, and I have a very, VERY FLUFFY idea And OMG!! I cry whenever I see puke, too! (Well, I also have a very severe panic attack)

Oh, and I'm glad you like Jazzy, cause she gets cuter and cuter as the story goes on

@smalltownbieber thank you!!! I'm anxiously awaiting the next chapter of Izzy's Diary....gonna go check now!!

[Bgrace27]

OH MY GOD THIS IS AMAZING YOU HAVE TO KEEP GOING!

[purpleninja]

okay, guys, as I promised, no puking! Just fluff! Warning: there is nausea, but no puke

J u s t i n

1:28 A.M.

I woke up with a start by a wave of nausea. I gently moved Jazzy out of the way and got out of bed, only for my knees to buckle underneath me. I managed to get up from the floor, crying already, and went to the bathroom. I started crying hard, sobbing as I braced myself over the sink.

“Bieber?” I hear a small voice call. Soon Jazzy appeared in the doorway, looking hesitant to come in.

“It’s okay, Babygirl,” I said through my tears.

“Why you crying, Bieber?” she asked softly, slowly coming in.

“Because I don’t feel good,” I answered before turning back over the sink as more sobs tumbled out of me. I coughed a couple times.

“You okay, Bieber?” Jazzy asked. I shook my head “no.”

“Can you get something for me?” I asked. She nodded timidly.

“Can you get me a tissue from right there?” I asked, trying to be calm and mature for her. She nodded and got two tissues from the box on the counter. She handed them to me, and I thanked her. I wiped my nose, but all it did was run again two minutes later. She timidly came up to me and laid her warm hand on my leg, the highest point on my body that she could reach. Once I stopped crying for good, I blew my nose and wiped my tears. I then went and sat on the floor, my back resting against the bathtub. I sighed and let out a couple more pathetic sobs. I suddenly ducked my head, aiming for my chest and lap, and let out two congested, uncovered sneezes.

“Hupshoo!! Husshhoo!!” I quickly clamped my hand over my mouth and nose after realizing they were messy. Jazzy, being the smart girl she is, handed me another tissue.

“Thanks, Babygirl,” I said through my tears, wiping my nose.

“Blesshoo, Bieber,” she said softly. I just nodded and sobbed again. My nose was running rapidly, and I kept wiping it with the tissue. Jazzy stood and watched, looking scared and worried.

“You going back to bed, Bieber?” she asked after a couple minutes. I shook my head “no.”

“I tired, Bieber,” she said quietly. I patted my lap.

“C’mere,” I said gently. She nodded and came and sat on my lap. She nuzzled her head into my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her and rocked her gently.

“You warm, Bieber,” she said. I nodded.

“I know.” She started to go to sleep, but I accidentally woke her up with a harsh coughing fit. Once I finished, I apologized and stroked her hair, coaxing her back to sleep. I leaned my head back onto the ledge of the bathtub and quickly fell asleep myself.

7:02 A.M.

“Omigosh!! Justin! Justin, wake up, buddy!” I heard Scooter call. I felt a cool hand on my forehead, but didn’t have the strength to open my eyes. I felt Jazzy being taken from my arms, and I soon heard her voice.

“Where we going, Mama?” she asked sleepily.

“You’re gonna go take a bath and get dressed. Bieber’s really, really sick, so you’re gonna hang out with me all day,” my mom answered. I struggled to open my eyes, but I just couldn’t.

“Pattie, he’s not waking up!” Scooter said, his voice rising in panic.

“Is he breathing?” my mom called back. I felt Scooter put his head to my chest.

“Yeah, but it’s shallow and it sounds weird,” Scooter said, his voice breaking. Scooter started to cry right there, and I got very confused. What is going on???

“If he doesn’t wake up in the next 15 minutes, call an ambulance!” my mom instructed.

“Okay!” Scooter called back through his tears. I felt him shake me a little.

“C’mon, Juss. Wake up, buddy. Please,” he begged me.

“C’mon, just move or make a noise. Anything,” he said. I managed to whimper weakly, then focused on opening my eyes. I finally pushed them halfway open, and I saw Scooter in front of me, bawling like a ten-year-old.

“There you go, Juss!!” he said, smiling and wiping his tears. I smiled weakly. He scooped me up and brought me back to bed, but didn’t lay me under the sheets. Instead, he set me down on top of the comforter and began taking my shirt off. I began shivering immediately and started to cry.

“I know, buddy, I am so, so sorry,” Scooter said. I looked up at him and gave him a questioning look.

“Your fever spiked during the night. It’s really high, Juss,” Scooter said. I nodded weakly.

“How do you feel?” he asked, picking me up and bringing me to the bathroom. I shook my head and cried a little harder. He ran some bathwater and gently set me in. The warm water made me comfortable and sleepy. I drifted in and out of consciousness as Scooter gently bathed me. He washed my hair, careful not to get any water or soap too close to my eyes. After he rinsed it, he pulled the plug and let the water out. He gently picked me up and wrapped me in a towel. I was warm and comfortable in his arms, and I let out a contented sigh. He set me down on the bed and started drying me off very gently. After my upper body was dry, he slipped a long-sleeve shirt on me. I didn’t even care when he took of my shorts and dried my lower body, then changed my underwear. He then put a pair of long-sleeve pajama pants on me, then combed my hair. He then went and hung up my towel. He came back and picked me up, then wrapped me in a warm blanket. I soon heard my mom’s voice.

“You gave him a bath?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Scooter answered.

“Scooter, thank you so much,” she replied, a smile in her voice. I felt my mom come and kiss my cheek. I whimpered weakly.

“You got him to wake up?” my mom asked, surprised.

“Yeah, he opened his eyes a little before I bathed him,” Scooter answered.

“Sweetheart, can you open your eyes a little for me?” my mom asked softly. I let out a small, hysterical whimper and felt my lower lip tremble a little. I forced my eyes open a little, just to have tears spill from them uncontrollably. I sobbed loudly once, and my voice cracked painfully.

“It’s alright, baby. Shh, we’re gonna make you feel better in no time, okay?” she asked.

“Has he said anything yet?” she asked.

“No, not that I know of,” Scooter answered.

“Honey, can you say something for me?” my mom asked. I whimpered.

“Come on, Sweetie,” she coaxed.

“Momma!” I sobbed.

“There you go, baby,” she said.

“Momma!” I called out again, sobbing uncontrollably now.

“I’m right here, baby,” she said softly. I kept calling her name over and over and over.

“C’mere,” she said finally, taking me into her arms. My teeth chattered and I was shivering violently. I was crying hysterically and calling out her name over and over without stopping, even though I was in her arms.

“I think he’s getting delirious,” my mom said.

“I think so. Let’s go try to get some Tylenol in him,” Scooter said. My mom agreed and carried me up front to where Jazzy and my grandparents were sitting.

“What happened?” my grandpa asked, worried.

“I went to check on him this morning, and he was sitting on the bathroom floor, totally knocked out and unresponsive. I finally got him to wake up and gave him a bath, and now we think he’s delirious,” Scooter explained.

“Give him to me,” my grandpa said softly. I felt myself being put in my grandfather’s arms. I snuggled into him and nuzzled my face in his neck. I was still involuntarily calling out my mom’s name, though, along with delirious syllables. My grandpa rubbed my back soothingly and tried to calm me down.

“Momma! Momma, please!” I begged involuntarily.

“What do you need, baby?” she asked softly, and I felt her hand stroke my hair.

“Momma make it stop!” I whined.

“Make what stop, Sweetheart?” she asked. I brought my right hand up to my face and let out a nasty cough.

“Momma!” I whimpered.

“Pattie, I think he wants you,” my grandpa said. I felt my mom gently grab me from behind and try to lift me, but I whined and held on to my grandfather.

“No!” I whined.

“You wanna stay by Grandpa?” she asked. I nodded.

“Momma!”

“What, Sweetheart?”

“Momma!”

“Scooter, get the Tylenol,” my mom said. I forced my eyes open, only to see that everything was all out of focus.

“You okay? Can you see anything?” my mom asked.

“No!” I whined.

“I know, baby, you eyes are all dilated,” my mom said.

“Pattie, turn him over, I got it,” Scooter said. My mom started to turn me over, but I held on weakly to my grandpa and cried harder.

“No! No!!” I whined.

“Just go around, Scooter,” my mom said. I soon saw the very blurry image of Scooter in front of me. I barely saw through my unfocused eyes that he was holding out a spoon. I opened my mouth and he fed me the medicine. He gave me two teaspoons, then capped the bottle and went over to the counter. Another wave of nausea crashed over me and I cried harder and started to get up.

“What are you doing, baby?” my mom asked.

“I’m gonna throw up,” I barely managed to choke out.

“Okay, okay,” she said. I got off my grandpa’s lap, and she helped me to the sink. But I just sobbed as the feeling slowly started to pass.

“Can you keep it down?” my mom asked, rubbing my back as I sobbed. over the sink. Finally the feeling faded. My mom and Scooter took advantage of this and gave me a little glass of water. I started to drink, then coughed and ended up spilling the water all down the front of my shirt. My mom tried to soothe me, but I was WAY past the point of being soothed. Once I finished coughing, she cleaned up my mess and quickly stripped my shirt off, which was covered in the water I had just spilled. I cried harder than I’ve ever cried before as the cold air hit my bare upper body, making me shiver violently. Goosebumps appeared all over my arms, back, and stomach. My mom came back with another clean, long-sleeve shirt from the drier. She quickly dressed me, then took a paper towel and wiped my mouth and stuff.

“Alright, you’re okay, you’re okay,” she soothed.

“I’m sorry, Momma!” I sobbed pathetically.

“Honey, it’s not your fault. It’s fine, Sweetheart,” she said, kissing my cheek.

“Are you getting tired?” Scooter asked. I nodded, barely able to keep my eyes open.

“I wanna stay up here,” I mumbled.

“Okay, you can say on the couch,” he said. But instead of going to the empty couch, I went over to my grandpa. I gave him a questioning look.

“Sure, buddy, come here,” he answered sympathetically. I went and sat on his lap, my head again nuzzled into his neck. Soon I felt the Tylenol start to work. I could soon focus my eyes and I didn’t call out repeatedly. Even though I was absolutely exhausted, I couldn’t fall asleep for anything. My mom got me to drink about half a glass of Gatorade, and now I’m REALLY nauseous. I’m trying to keep it down, though. I laid back on my grandpa, my head laying on his shoulder, turned to the right. I coughed into my right hand, and he rubbed my back until I finished.

“How long have you been sick?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, still crying.

“8 days today,” my mom answered. I whimpered. I’ve been trying for about a half an hour to not puke, but I don’t think I can do it anymore.

“Momma!!” I called weakly.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” she asked, coming over to me.

“Momma,” I moaned, holding my stomach and sitting up.

“You gonna throw up?” she asked. I nodded and climbed off my grandpa’s lap. Scooter supported me as I just stood there, sobbing. I couldn’t even support my own weight anymore as I kept coughing and sobbing over and over and over. After I managed to stop for a couple minutes, Scooter carried me and set me on the empty couch. He helped me lay down and covered me. He brought the trashcan over by the couch. I covered my mouth with my right hand and launched into a harsh, wet coughing fit. Scooter sat on the edge of the couch next to me and rubbed my back. I was soon coughing and sobbing at the same time. Scooter rubbed my back a little harder until I stopped. He leaned down and kissed my temple.

“It’s okay, Juss, you’re gonna be alright,” he whispered in my ear. I nodded and coughed again. He sat with me and just kept rubbing my back. I looked up and locked eyes with my grandma, who looked worried, concerned, and sympathetic. Jazzy sat on her lap, watching me intently. I was overcome with yet another wave of nausea, and I moaned and held my stomach. Scooter quickly grabbed the trash can and held it while I puked into it twice. My mom came after I was done and gently wiped my mouth for me with a paper towel. I started crying again, and Scooter suddenly pulled the back of my shirt up. He took the covers off a little bit, then gently trailed two fingers up and down my back. I calmed down immediately and sighed, hearing the raspy sound of the worsening Pneumonia in my chest.

“You okay? That sounds bad,” Scooter said, referring to the sound of my breathing. I shrugged.

“It feels tight,” I said quietly.

“Your chest?” he asked. I nodded.

“Well, tell me if it gets any worse,” he said.

“Okay,” I said quietly. I coughed a couple times.

“I think I’m gonna call the doctor again and have him come check you out,” my mom said. Scooter nodded.

“Good idea,” he replied, gently stroking my cheek. He took one finger and gently traced the planes of my face. I sighed and closed my eyes a little. His cool finger on my face felt amazing. He tucked the blanket around me and I soon felt comfortably warm. I opened my eyes again and listened to my mom call the doctor while I felt Scooter trace my facial features. He trailed his finger from my temple to my cheek, around my eyes, across my forehead, down my nose and back up to my temple. I looked up at him and smiled weakly to show him I appreciated it. He leaned down and kissed my temple again before returning to his little trace game. I felt very tired, and I knew it would feel absolutely amazing to go to sleep right there. But I have to be awake for when the doctor comes. A couple minutes later, there was a knock on the door. My mom answered it and the doctor soon came in after they exchanged greetings. He came over to me and knelt a little to look me in the eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly. I managed a small, weak, smile. I curled down a little and coughed into my hand, not wanting to cough into his face. I soon felt a stethoscope on my back while I was coughing. I couldn’t stop for a couple minutes, and the doctor listened all over my chest while I coughed. Once I finished, he listened to my breathing. He then thoroughly examined the rest of me and took my temperature.

“Well, I’ve got good news and very bad news,” he said once he was done. We all waited expectantly for him to continue.

“Well, the flu is on its way out, so you’re doing well there,” he started. I nodded.

“On the other hand, you have somehow developed full-blown Pneumonia in both lungs. You’ve got very severe Double-Pneumonia. I don’t know how you managed to develop that when you’ve been laying in bed all week,” he said, sounding kind of puzzled. Every adults’ jaw dropped, with the exception of the doctor. I looked weakly up at the doctor.

“Now, there’s two ways this could go,” the doctor said. I nodded.

“One, you could not move an inch from this spot right here, and it’s very likely you’ll recover quickly. Or, you could move around and stuff and end up in the hospital on a ventilator with a needle in your chest,” he said in a gentle warning tone.

“I’ll stay here,” I said quietly.

“Yes, that is the better option,” he answered.

“Well, can we at least take him back to his room?” Scooter asked.

“Oh, no. He mustn’t be moved at all. Moving is most likely what caused this to develop,” the doctor answered.

“What if I have to use the bathroom or take a shower?” I asked.

“You’ll have to have someone help you. Someone will have to bathe you and everything until this is on the way out,” he said. I nodded weakly.

“Because I think you might have some fluid in your lungs,” he said, putting his stethoscope back on my chest. He then took it off and pulled my shirt up a little. I started shivering immediately. He looked at me apologetically.

“Sorry,” he said. I nodded. He took the chest piece of the stethoscope and rubbed it against his palm to warm it up. He then placed the warm metal chest piece on my chest.

“Just breathe normally,” he said. I nodded and breathed normally. Scooter, who had taken his hand from my face, held my hand reassuringly. I smiled at him a little. I wish I could tell him right now how much I love him. He’s like my dad, but so much better. The doctor moved the chest piece around, frowning, then moved it around to my back. He sighed heavily.

“You definitely have some fluid in there, Son,” he said sympathetically. I nodded, just barely able to keep my eyes open.

“Whatever you do, don’t move. You’ll move the fluid around and it could spread the infection to other parts of your lungs, like the bronchial tubes and such. And believe me, you don’t want Bronchitis,” he said. I nodded.

“Now, as for the flu and everything, let’s check out the rest of you again,” he said. I nodded.

“Open your mouth for me?” he asked. I opened my mouth. He shone a light down my throat and looked for a good while.

“Well, you still have a lot of redness and mucus, and your vocal chords are just a little bit swollen. You do have some post-nasal drip going on, but it’s not too bad,” he reported. We all nodded. He then shone a light up my nose, then gently pressed on my forehead, right above my eyes. I felt a dull ache intensify.

“Ow,” I whimpered.

“That hurts?” he asked. I nodded.

“How bad?” he asked.

“About a 4 out of 10. Not bad,” I answered quietly.

“Well, you’re extremely congested. And sometimes, when you get that congested, and you don’t blow it out, the mucus stays there. And since mucus has bacteria and viruses in it, it just stays there and gets infected. This is what they call a Sinus Infection,” he said. I sighed a little bit, but nodded.

“So, right now, you’ve got an infection from right here,” he said, pointing to the part right above my forehead.

“Then from the same infection you’re gonna have symptoms that of an extremely severe cold,” he said. I nodded, my eyes drooping.

“Then you have that Strep infection in your throat, and the post nasal drip is just making it worse,” he explained further.

“Wait, how?” my mom asked.

“Well, since his Sinuses and everything in them are infected, the mucus that is going down into his throat is also infected, which is irritating the Strep that’s already there. So, the Strep may even heal, but the post nasal drip is just gonna keep that infection going,” he explained. My mom nodded again.

“Then you have the Double Pneumonia and a great risk for developing Bronchitis,” he said. I nodded.

“You don’t seem to have any of the symptoms of Bronchitis yet,” he said. I nodded and smiled a little bit.

“What are the symptom of Bronchitis?” Scooter asked.

“Well, for starters, a very wet cough that also sounds like barking a little, if you know what I mean. And possibly a little wheezing or trouble breathing and such,” he said. I nodded.

“Since you already have the cough associated with Bronchitis, just look out for any shortness of breath, wheezing, or shallow breathing,” the doctor said.

“Well, he was breathing shallow this morning,” Scooter said. The doctor looked at me.

“You’re just falling apart, aren’t you?” he asked. I just closed my eyes as he placed the stethoscope on my chest, but this time he listened up by my throat.

“Well, congratulations,” he said sympathetically.

“So, he has Double Pneumonia, Bronchitis, a throat infection, Strep, post nasal drip, and a Sinus Infection…all at once?” my grandma asked.

“And possibly remnants of the flu, but probably not too much of that left,” the doctor clarified.

“Is there anything we can do for him?” Scooter asked.

“Well, there isn’t any medicine I could prescribe to him, since it’s viral. Just over-the-counter stuff and some home remedies,” the doctor said. The news sunk in, and I started to cry. Scooter rubbed my back soothingly.

“I don’t wanna feel bad anymore!” I whined, rubbing my eyes, which were itchy from my allergies.

“I know, buddy, and I really wish there was something I can do, honestly,” the doctor said sympathetically.

“So, what can we do?” my mom asked.

“Just don’t move him at all, make sure he gets lots of rest, lots of fluids, soft foods if he has an appetite, over-the-counter medicine, that kind of thing,” the doctor said. My mom sighed sympathetically.

“How long will this last?” she asked.

“I’m so sorry, but some things could last only a week, and others a good month. As for the Double Pneumonia, well, that’s gonna last quite a while because of its severity,” the doctor said. I let out a small sob.

“Well, at least the venue owners said we can use this lot as long as we need to,” Scooter said.

“That’s good. Very nice of them. Now, Justin, I would really like to get an X-Ray of your chest, but you can’t be moved. I do have something that might help you breathe a little easier, though,” he said. I nodded a little.

“I’m gonna order it and go get it, then come back later and give it to you, okay?” the doctor said. I nodded.

“What is it?” Scooter asked.

“It’s a portable nebulizer/humidifier. I’m gonna prescribe a breathing treatment either twice a day or every four hours as needed. Then, in between, you just take the medicine out and the humidified air will help,” the doctor said. Scooter nodded and rubbed my back.

“I’m also gonna give you something for nausea and some antibiotics. I know everything you have is viral, but antibiotics always help,” the doctor said. I nodded.

“I’m also gonna prescribe something to put you to sleep. The more you sleep, the faster you’ll recover. But you may not even need it,” the doctor said. I nodded. Sleep sounds really nice right now.

“Now, you won’t be able to move much anyway, but I want you on strict bed rest. Do not move unless someone is there to help you. If you have to use the bathroom, call out for your mom. I know it might be embarrassing, but you’ll need some help. Now, taking a bath in warm water will help you feel a lot better, but you won’t be able to do that on your own,” he warned. I nodded.

“I can’t do that on my own already,” I mumbled. He nodded.

“That’s about all I can tell you,” he said. I nodded.

“I really hope you feel better soon,” he said. I nodded.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

“And I’ll be back soon,” he said. My mom and Scooter nodded. He got up to leave, then stopped. He turned to Scooter.

“Just out of curiosity, would you like to listen to his lungs?” the doctor asked. Scooter laughed a little bit.

“Um, sure,” he said. The doctor gave him the ear piece and Scooter put the stethoscope in his ears. The doctor put the chest piece on my chest and I took a breath.

“Oh my gosh!” Scooter said. I involuntarily coughed, and Scooter gasped.

“Let me listen,” my mom said. She came over and took the stethoscope from Scooter and put it in her ears. She gasped also, and the doctor moved the chest piece around. I coughed again.

“Oh my gosh! What is that?!” she asked.

“Mucus and fluid,” the doctor answered.

“And infection,” he added. She shook her head.

“Wow,” she said. One by one, everyone, including Jazzy, listened to my chest. I was starting to get so exhausted, but their gasps and “oh my gosh!” shouts were keeping me awake. While my grandpa was listening, I accidentally sneezed, and he remarked about how you could even hear it when I sneeze! After everyone had listened, I happily closed my eyes, surrendering to sleep. I heard the doctor leave, and just as I was about to go to sleep, I was plagued by a severe coughing fit. I coughed into my right hand, my left hand propped up against the back of the couch. I buried my face in my forearm and finally went to sleep after I stopped coughing and rested my right hand on my stomach.

E n d

*Also!! I do know that some of the events in this story may not be factually correct. Like, products. I've invented some things for this story. You'll see later on

[purpleninja]

I aplogize about the lack of sneezing. *hangs head in shame* I will do better.

[BlueKeeper]

<3 d'aw, poor Juss.

Cute story!

[Bgrace27]

OMG OMG OMG I love it sooooooooooooooo much please continue

[purpleninja]

"I was overcome with yet another wave of nausea, and I moaned and held my stomach. Scooter quickly grabbed the trash can and held it while I puked into it twice."

uh-oh. Looks like I didn't get all of it out...sorry!! I can't believe I missed that one!! That's supposed to be fluff, not puke! Urgh, stupid me