Safe. Part 3 added 10/20/12

[sneezedreamer]

Okay, so I'm not quite sure what to say here. Basically, this is a fic about a couple of original characters of mine...a sixteen year old girl named Mia, and her foster/adopted father, Aidan. Since it's a dad and a daughter, the caretaking is strictly platonic. The first part came out a bit shorter than I would have liked, but there will be more, and the later parts will be heavier on actual sneezing. Oh, and it's narrated from Mia's point of view. Hope you enjoy!

Safe

That winter was one of the coldest I’ve ever experienced. Despite all the exercise I was getting, the fresh air, and the (mostly) healthy food Aidan was feeding me, I caught one cold after another that year. A severe illness in the middle of November that lead to a sinus infection, then a milder cold in early December featuring an especially unpleasant sore throat, followed by a virus in late January that became bronchitis.

During those times, Aidan was a devoted nurse, taking time off work when it was necessary to drag me to doctors appointments, and sometimes, he even took time off when it wasn’t necessary. Despite the discomfort of being ill, I enjoyed my sick days with my foster father. We would play Texas Hold Em’ or Go Fish together and he would watch all my favorite TV shows with me, even the ones he didn’t especially like, such as Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Dawson’s Creek. He made me homemade soups, hearty stews, spicy dishes like General Tso’s Chicken, endless cups of tea, and even a cough syrup; one which worked better than anything I had yet found in a store.

Despite all his contact with me, Aidan never contracted any of my illnesses. I asked him about it once, during the case of bronchitis, while we were playing checkers together. Due to my severe lack of energy, I hadn’t bothered to change out of my pajamas all day, and Aidan had followed suit. However, unlike me, he’d kept up with his usual morning grooming routine. His shaggy golden brown hair, which was shoulder-length and lightly streaked with gray, was neatly combed, and he’d showered and shaved.

“Do you ever actually get sick?”

“Sure, everyone gets sick sometimes.”

“Well, when was the last time you got sick?”

He tilted his head to the side as if thinking, hazel eyes gazing off into the distance. “I caught a cold about three years ago in…hmmm…when was it? January, February maybe? I’m not sure.”

“Three years?!” I instantly regretted my surprised outburst, as it grated my sensitive throat, and lead to a small, painful coughing fit. Aidan rubbed my back gently as I tried to pull myself under control. “Three years? I just wish I could go three months without getting sick with something horrible,” I said, reaching for the nearby bag of cough drops.

He smiled sympathetically. I took a moment to notice, not for the first time, how gentle he could look, despite the fact that all of his facial features were rather pointy and sharply defined; his nose, cheekbones, even his chin. “You will, one day soon, I think. It’s been a difficult winter for you. Grief weakens the immune system a lot.”

I gave him a what was probably a very tight, small smile, and he patted my hand before we resumed our game. If I had trusted my voice to speak at that moment, I would have told him that while the last few months had been unbelievably hard, I was also happier than I had been in years. I liked to think he knew that already, but I was eager for the opportunity to give something back to the man who had welcomed me into his home when I had nowhere left to go, become my foster father, and who was in the process of formally adopting me. That opportunity came sooner than I thought.

March brought two rather unpleasant surprises to our little town. Firstly, after a brief respite from the cold weather, and the appearance of an early spring, we were hit by a cold snap sharper than anything we had experienced yet that winter. Sleet which became quickly became hail, leading to icy roads. Heavy snow, wind chill, even temporary loss of power in some homes. The upshot to all of this was that I got several extra days off of school.

The second unpleasant thing about this particular March was that nearly half the town became ill with a nasty cold. Strangely enough, I appeared to be resistant to this particular illness. My friend Carl, who had been one of the first to come down with the cold, had shared a soda with me one Monday afternoon. In retrospect, it hadn’t been a wise move for me, what with my weak immune system and all, especially since Carl had been clearing his throat more than usual that day. But Carl was out on Tuesday, and for the rest of the week, while I escaped without so much as a sniffle. Over the next two weeks, teachers and students alike came down with the virus while I remained healthy.

“Mia! You’d better hurry up and get something to eat before we have to leave,” Aidan called to me from the foot of the stairs.

“I’m coming,” I called back, as I struggled to put on my socks. I hurried out of my room and looked at Aidan from over the balcony.

“Good morning,” I said.

Aidan smiled up at me, and then his face quickly morphed into a irritated grimace of sorts. He wiggled his nose around for a moment before bending forward with a sneeze. “Hehhhshoo!”

The action surprised me a little, and it appeared to have surprised him a bit as well. Aidan didn’t sneeze very often. “Bless you,” I said, as he straightened up with a small sniffle.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat as I came to the bottom of the stairs. “Right, well, there’s blueberry pancakes in the kitchen. We’re out of sausage, I’m sorry to say, but I did cook up a bit of bacon.”

While I ate my pancakes, I couldn’t help noticing that Aidan was eating slightly less than usual that morning. He did, however, drink three full mugs of tea. He added some honey to each, which was also out of the ordinary, as he usually preferred his tea black.

“You feeling alright?” I couldn’t help but ask as he stirred a spoon of honey into his third mug.

He shrugged. “Bit of a dry throat this morning. I think I put the heat on too high in my bedroom last night.”

“Too high? Really?” Was there such a thing as a room that was too warm when it was around zero degrees Fahrenheit?

“Must have been, I woke up feeling a little flushed. That radiator seems to be a bit screwy anyhow - I’ll have to get it looked at.” He looked at his watch, and began gulping down the rest of his tea. “Come on, we’re going to be late if we don’t finish up here.”

Our neighbor, Linda, was nice enough to offer me a ride home from school that day so I didn’t have to walk or wait for Aidan. My foster father would normally work until about 4 PM, and while it wasn’t a long walk home from school, the sharp wind and the slickness of the sidewalks made it more difficult than usual for the pedestrians on that particular afternoon. Once I got in the house, I made myself a cup of hot cocoa and settled in on the couch to watch a repeat of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

I was only a few minutes into the episode when I heard the screen door creak open, followed by the click of the key in the lock. I got to my feet, wondering why Aidan would be home so much earlier than usual.

Aidan walked in, yanking off his hat and gloves and unzipping his coat, then taking off his boots. As he hung up his things near the door, I moved closer, about to greet him. Then, he gasped desperately, and pitched forward, almost bending in half, with one of the loudest sneezes I had ever heard in my life.

“HEYAH-CHUHHHH!!” The sound was both wet and somewhat congested, and seemed to bounce off the walls (our hallway had excellent acoustics). Aidan straightened up very slowly, sniffling and pulling a large handkerchief from his back pocket. He blew his nose then, a loud, “Pftttt-pffft-ppfffttt!”

“Bless you,” I said. He looked startled for a second, as if he hadn’t noticed me come in the hall.

“Thadk you,” he replied, his face still buried in the folds of the red tartan cloth. He massaged his nose for a moment longer into the handkerchief before folding it back up and returning it to his pocket.

“You’re home early,” I noted.

He nodded. “I’ve caught a cold, I think. I’ve been sneezing a lot, so I asked if I could come home an hour or so before normal.”

“I’m sorry. I know it‘s not fun getting sick.”

“That’s all right. I’ve been quite lucky to be healthy for this long,” he said. His expression grew a bit more somber as he said the words, as if he were realizing the truth of them as he spoke.

I moved forward to so he could give me the hug and kiss he usually offered when he arrived home from work. To my surprise, he shook his head and held up a hand as if to ward me off.

“Sorry, better not,” he said, sadly. “I don’t want you to catch what I’ve got.”

I scoffed at that. “I don’t think you should worry. If you’ve got what everyone at school has, I think I’m safe. If not…well, then I’ll probably catch it anyways. No immune system, remember?” I wrapped my arms around his narrow midsection before he could protest further. He was stiff and hesitant for a moment before he relaxed, giving me a light squeeze and planting a kiss on my forehead.

“Thanks, darling. How was your day, then?”

I shrugged. “Average. I had that test in science, but I think I did alright.”

“Excellent. I knew you would.” He smiled in a way that was probably meant to be encouraging, but he simply looked tired and wan. Clearly, he was not himself today. I thought for a moment. What would Aidan do if I was the one who was sick?

The first step was easy. “Would you like me to make you some tea?”

“I would love for you to make me some tea,” he said gratefully. “Do we still have any of that green with the mint in it?”

“Oh yeah, lots. Do you want me to bring it upstairs to your room? You look exhausted.”

He appeared surprised by the suggestion, but he nodded. “I do feel a little worn down,” he admitted finally, rubbing his eyes.

“Go lie down,” I ordered.. “I’ll be up with the tea in a bit.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Aidan coughed several times into his sleeve as he climbed the stairs.

A few minutes later, I stood outside of Aidan’s room with a steaming mug of green tea, sweetened with a spoon of honey. I rapped lightly, but there was no response. The door was slightly ajar, and I peeked in to see him under the covers, fast asleep. Deciding there was no sense in wasting a perfectly good cup of tea, I brought the mug to my own lips and went back downstairs to wait for him to wake up.

TBC

Note - edited to fix a paragraph break only!

[flower]

OH, very sweet, sneezedreamer. Looking forward to more!

[SterlingSilver]

More, please~!

This is SO ADORABLE <3

I've never read a story not between lovers, so it's a cute change for me

[tma]

Awwwww!!! So cute!! Good dad = Awwww/melt!! And sweet, caring daughter= sweet.

Loving it!

[sneezingisfun]

So cute please keep going and maybe the daughter could sneeze a little too?

[LovelyLinda]

Since family sneezes usually disgust me, I was very hesistant to read your story but the more I read,

the more I liked it It is very sweet!! I'm really surprised to say that, but I really like it!!

Please write more <3

[sneasons greetings]

Aw! This is fantastic. Very cute.

[DogLover]

So sweeeeeeet! Please continue...

[Jorm]

I'm so glad you decided to share this with us. I know you were a little hesitant because of the characters being father and daughter, so I'm glad you didn't let that stop you because I for one think it's lovely! I can't wait for more

[lattelover09]

Oh my...LOVE THIS!!! Can't wait for more! (I can't stop checking even!)

[sneezedreamer]

Thanks to everyone who has replied so far for the nice comments! I really appreciate the kind words, and I'm glad you're enjoying! Part 2 should be up in a day or so.

So cute please keep going and maybe the daughter could sneeze a little too?

Thanks for commenting! I hope this won't be too much of a disappointment, but want to put it out there that I currently have no plans to make Mia sick in this story. The plot in this fic is mostly about the role reversal of a father and a daughter. If the daughter gets sick, that complicates things, because the father will feel like he has to take care of her again (which he already does all the time anyways!). Also, while both Mia and Adian are sensitive people, Mia is by far the more emotionally fragile of the two, and so I wanted to give her an opportunity to be strong for her father - in phyical as well as emotional ways. I can possibly make Mia sneeze in another fic, though!

Since family sneezes usually disgust me, I was very hesistant to read your story but the more I read, the more I liked it It is very sweet!! I'm really surprised to say that, but I really like it!! Please write more <3

Thank you! Maybe you like it because Aidan is pretty hot, which is probably not how you feel about your own family members? I'm happy you gave my fic a chance!

I'm so glad you decided to share this with us. I know you were a little hesitant because of the characters being father and daughter, so I'm glad you didn't let that stop you because I for one think it's lovely! I can't wait for more

Thank you, that means a lot to me!

[sneezedreamer]

Okay, folks, so here's part 2. I'm not totally happy with this section - I'm one of those writers who prefers stories that are heavier on plot and character development, and this chapter doesn't have a lot of that. It does, however, have lots of sneezy goodness. Hope you like it, I'll try and post more soon.

One small note, in case people are wondering - this story is set a few years in the past, in case people are wondering about the references to shows that haven't been on for years (except as reruns), such as Dawson's Creek, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Gotta love late 90's/early 2000's TV!

Safe - Part 2

One thing about living with Aidan was that I didn’t really have too many chores written in stone. I was expected to help out when I had the time, but my foster father wasn’t too fussed about what I did to help, exactly. The two possible exceptions to this were helping to wash the dinner dishes, and cleaning up my own room. Even doing my own laundry was not a strict requirement, although that was the one task I insisted on doing myself. I’d been cleaning my own clothes since I was about five years old, and I wasn’t sure I was quite comfortable with the idea of Aidan, or anyone else, washing my socks and underwear.

I knew, from experience, that chores were the last thing I wanted to do when I was sick, so after I finished my cup of tea, I tackled the remaining breakfast dishes. Those completed, I went to the hamper in the upstairs hall to check on the laundry. There were a number of towels waiting to be washed, so I grabbed a basket and loaded up the washer. I went to my room and did my math homework until I heard a ping from the laundry room, and I moved the towels into the dryer.

By now, Aidan had been asleep for over an hour. He didn’t usually nap at all, but the few times I’d noticed him sleeping during the day, he had been taking cat-like naps that didn’t last more than twenty minutes. I decided to take this as a sign that he would be out of commission for a few days at the very least, and I began to wander the house, looking around for slightly less urgent chores to do. I finally settled on the kitchen floor, which didn’t look that dirty, but it hadn’t been cleaned in a few weeks and could stand to be swept and mopped.

Aidan was still asleep when I was done, so I went to my bedroom and picked up my English Lit assignment, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. I stopped reading for a bit to fold the towels when the dryer went off, but I went right back to my book after everything was put neatly away. I didn’t look up again until I heard Aidan begin to cough.

I crept to his bedroom door and peeked in. He was sitting up in the bed, wearing his striped pajamas and still looking a bit dazed from sleep.

“You can come in, dear,” he rasped, once he had stopped coughing.

“Hi.” I perched on the corner of the bed. “How was your nap?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it further, and looked at the clock in disbelief. “I can’t believe I slept for almost three hours,” he said, more to himself than to me.

“You probably needed it,” I said. “How are you feeling?”

Aidan rubbed his nose vigorously before answering, in a slightly congested tone. “I’m okay. I slept well, and I’m not feeling too bad. Mostly just a tickly throat, and very itchy…itchy…nostrils…” He looked around for a moment, as if searching for tissues. Not finding them nearby, he hunched over, cupping his hands to his face. “Huh-itshoo! Heh…it’shuhhh! Hehhhhhhh…HET-CHHUHH!” He sniffed, removing his hands cautiously, as if he wasn’t sure if he was done or not. I noticed him glancing ruefully at his palms, which were lightly spattered with flecks of moisture.

I got to my feet as I spotted the tissue box on Aidan’s dresser, setting it down on his nightstand. He nodded his thanks as he plucked out a tissue to wipe off his hands and blow his nose.

“I should get up and start dinner soon,” he said, “but I’m worried about contaminating your food, with all the coughing and sneezing. I’ll wash my hands, of course, but, still. And we don’t have a lot in the house at the moment. I was going to go to the store for a major shopping trip, but it’s getting late.”

I was pretty sure I knew where this was going. “Chinese takeout?”

Aidan snatched up another tissue and brought it to his mouth and nose. “HEK’CH-UHH! I think so. That okay?”

“Sure.” We didn’t order takeout or go out to eat very often, but there were several takeout menus in a kitchen drawer, the local Chinese place being our personal favorite.

“Okay, why don’t you go look over the menu if you don’t know what you want. I’ll get changed and wash my hands. Be down in a minute,” he said, heading to the master bathroom.

I went to the kitchen, and looked over the menu even though I knew what I really wanted already. Aidan shuffled in a few minutes later. He had changed from pajamas into relaxed jeans in a light denim color and a dark gray button down shirt layered over a white t-shirt, which he had paired with his fleece moccasin slippers. I noticed that his front jeans pockets were swollen and stuffed, presumably with tissues or handkerchiefs.

“What’ll it be, then?”

“General Tso’s chicken,” I said, “if you’re not sick of it yet.” It was my favorite, especially when made extra spicy. The heat of the dish would certainly help clear Aidan out, but I didn’t want him to order something he was tired of. “Oh, and maybe some soup or something? You should be getting your fluids.”

He chuckled at that. “Yes, ma’am. I think that sounds fine. How do you feel about Hot and Sour Soup? And maybe some Eggplant in Garlic Sauce?”

“I feel good about it.”

“Okay…I’ll just go…HET-TCH’CHOO!!” Aidan aimed the loud sneeze into his elbow. He fumbled in his jeans pockets for a moment, coming up with a tissue, but the next sneeze was quicker than he was, and he was forced to sneeze again into his elbow. “Het’SHOO! Heh…Hehhhhhh…hehhhhhhhhhh…” He clapped the tissue over his nose and mouth, waiting in anticipation, eyes squinting and watering until he finally let loose with a muffled sneeze “Huh-CH-GNNX!”

“Maybe I should call?” I suggested.

A laugh, also muffled, came from behind the tissue. “Probably a good idea,” he said, swiping at his nose.

“Okay, you go sit down in the other room. I’ll be there in a second. You want tea?” We usually had green tea with Chinese, even when we were healthy.

“Sure, darling.” He headed for the living room, blowing his nose. I put the kettle on the stove and picked up the phone.

“We should watch a movie together,” I said, a little later, as I handed him a mug of tea. “Something sick-day appropriate. You know, feel good stuff.” I didn’t vocalize the thought that Aidan, who was leaning against the couch cushions, a box of tissues on his lap, looked too tired to do much of anything else at the moment. Either he was still slightly groggy from his nap, or whatever he was coming down with had zapped much of his strength.

“Okay. What do you want to watch?”

I could have given him some decent suggestions. I had several movies I frequently watched when I was sick, the majority of them being animated Disney movies or other kid moves. Alice in Wonderland had been of my favorite sick-day movies for years, in fact, I rarely watched it when I was well for some reason. The same was true about Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory.

Instead, I sighed. “No, don’t ask me what I want. You’re the one who gets to pick.” It was the least I could offer to do when he was always so accommodating.

He raised his eyebrows, and a tiny smirk appeared on his lips. “Even if I want to watch a western?”

I had been afraid he would say that. I wanted to keep Aidan company while he was sick, but I hated westerns even more than he disliked some of the teenage dramas that I watched. Still, if it would make him happy, I would at least sit with him, maybe pulling out a book if I got too bored.

“Yeah, even then.”

Aidan began to laugh, but his laughter quickly turned to coughs, and he hurriedly set down his tea to avoid spilling it. “Well, don’t sound so thrilled about it! Don’t worry, we can watch something else. How about something short? Isn’t Dawson’s Creek on at eight?”

“Yeah, but we don’t have to watch that. I can call Carl and ask him to tape it for me or something.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart, I have a book I’d like to get back to. So what do you think we should watch?”

“What do you want?”

“I’m really not sure. You pick this time.”

I sighed. “You’re impossible, you know that?” I scanned the DVD collection. “Okay, since you refuse to make a decision, I vote for The Breakfast Club. Good sick day movie, and you still haven’t seen it yet.”

Somewhat to my surprise, Aidan seemed to thoroughly enjoy the movie. I knew every word by heart, so I wasn’t at all bothered by Aidan’s sneezing. His coughing seemed to gradually settle down with the honeyed tea, but he continued to sneeze frequently, every five or ten minutes at least, usually in series of three, but sometimes as single sneezes.

When the food arrived, I went to the door and paid the delivery guy so Aidan didn’t have to get up. I set the cartons down on the coffee table, where I had also set bowls, plates, napkins, and silverware. I opened the soup container first, releasing a small cloud of steam.

Aidan quickly set his tea down and raised another tissue to his face. “Huh- ET’SHUU! EK’KHHH! Hehhhh….HUH-shh! Hep’tshh! HET’ SHUHH!!”

“Bless you,” I said in astonishment, as I filled up a bowl for him. “Do you always sneeze this much when you catch a cold?”

“Thadks.” He blew his nose and tossed the tissue into the nearby wastebasket. “And yes, but only sometimes. My nose gets pretty sensitive when I have a cold, but this is a lot of sneezing, even for me.”

When the movie was over, Aidain went into the other room and read while I watched Dawson’s Creek. He came back into the lvining room later so we could watch The West Wing together. Over the course of the evening, his nose got redder and more swollen-looking, and he had to blow his nose more and more often.

“I’b off to bed,” he said, dabbing at his nose, as The West Wing ended. It was only 10 pm, which was an early bedtime for him, but I didn’t doubt that he needed the rest.

“Okay. Do you need anything else?”

He blew his nose yet again and tossed the tissue into the rapidly filling wastebasket. “Other than new sinuses? No, not really…I took care of the dishes during your show, so that’s done.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said. “I was just about to clean them.”

He smiled weakly. “You’ve done enough already. I noticed how clean it was in the kitchen, and that you did some laundry. Thank you for that.”

I gave him a hug. “You’re welcome, Aidan. Good night.”

Aidan wriggled out of the embrace and ducked his head to the side. “Hept’shuhh! Excuse be,” he said, sniffling, as he took another tissue from the box and wiped his nose. “Good night, Mia, sleep well.” He pulled me into another hug before trudging upstairs with his box of tissues.

TBC

[Dutchgirl]

I like this! It's sweat

[sneezedreamer]

Ahem. So...I really didn't mean to leave this fic for so long without an update! Been away from the forum for a few months.

I don't know if anyone's still interested in reading...BUT, I'd really like to continue this. Sorry to those of you who have been waiting, and I really hope people will want to read more about Mia and Aidan. Feel free to let me know if you're enjoying it...it might help motivate me to update more often!

Because the Insommnia Fairy has come to visit me...I've got an update all ready for you. Hopefully it makes sense and isn't too poorly edited..it's just after 5 AM where I am.

Moving back into plot-heavy territory for this next chapter. Less sneezing this time, but lots of other yummy symptoms. Hope you all enjoy!

Safe - Part 3

I was lying upstairs in my old room when I heard the rev of the engine over the pouring rain. Loud laughter, followed by the squeal of the tires as the car launched out of the garage at breakneck speed. I darted downstairs, my stomach churning. I would save her this time.

I flew out of the front door in my pajamas and slippers, nearly falling on the wet pavement. I took the shortcut through the woods. Maybe I could catch her at the stop light in town…

Another squeal of tires, this time sharper, followed by a deafening crash.

“Mia! Mia!”

I knew what would happen next. I would find the car turned over, a kilometer or so away. I would find my mother, who had not been wearing her seatbelt, bloodied and torn up, almost beyond recognition, lying on the opposite side of the road. My usual instinct was to follow her voice, but this time I hesitated.

“Mia, Mia!”

“Stop it,” I called out. “I’m here, I’ve always been here! Where are you?”

“Mia, Mia!”

I fell to my knees in agony. She would never stop calling. She would never come to me. And I could no longer come to her. I was stranded, and utterly, utterly alone.

“Mia, Mia!”

With no small amount of mental effort involved, I forced myself to wake up. Eyes still heavy with sleep, I sat straight up in bed. If I fell back asleep, my sub-conscious would probably take me right back to where I didn’t want to go.

I peered at the glowing clock radio, the only source of light in my dark bedroom. 2:15 AM. I decided to get out of bed for a bit - maybe some warm milk or tea would settle my mind a bit, banishing the nightmares at least temporarily. I stood up, still quite weary, and a bit wobbly on my feet. It was even colder than it had been a few hours ago, I realized, as I put my sky blue bathrobe on over my pajamas.

Quietly, I crept from my bedroom downstairs. I was just padding into the foyer and past the darkened living room when…

“HET-SHHH-UHH!”

Aidan’s loud sneeze bounced off the walls and startled me so badly that I leapt back by about a foot, and even audibly gasped. My foster father poked his head out of the kitchen entry, his nose still buried in a handkerchief. He snuffled and wiped at his nostrils. As I caught my breath, I realized that I had failed to notice the slight glow coming from the kitchen, and the soft sound that I had mistaken for the humming of our old house had actually been Aidan, trying to breathe through a nose full of congestion.

“I’b sorry, dearest. Didd’t beed to scare you.” He looked rather sheepish, and utterly pathetic, with his nose - so red that it matched the scarlet bathrobe he wore over his striped pajamas, scraggly sleep-mussed hair, and the sorry-looking handkerchief in his right hand - once white, the cloth was nearly translucent by now.

“It’s okay,” I managed, as I joined him in the kitchen. There was a kettle already on the gas range, and a book lying open on the kitchen table. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

He shook his head and, without warning, bent nearly double as he was hit with a sudden coughing fit. I gently guided him into a kitchen chair as his coughs gradually quieted. I pulled out another chair for myself and sat down.

After getting his coughs under control, Aidan blew his nose with a loud, crackling noise. “Nope. I must have napped for too long this afternoon, and I keep coughing. I’b stuffy too,” he added, his nose already filling back up with congestion. “Blowidgg barely does adythidgg,” he added.

He allowed himself to look miserable for a moment before looking at me with some concern, as if he’d just realized I was there. He snuffled thickly and spoke in a slightly clearer voice. “What are you doing up? Nightmares again?”

I nodded sadly, and he reached out to pat my arm with the hand that didn’t have a handkerchief. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I sighed. “Not tonight. Besides, you’ve heard it all before.” At least I had progressed beyond waking screaming and sobbing in the middle of nearly every night. Consequently, Aidan would also be disturbed from his sleep by my nightmares, but he never once complained, just held me until I was calmer, letting me cry into his pajama top until I was out of tears.

The kettle began to squeal, and Aidan moved to get up, but I shot him a stern look. “Sit. You’re sick, and it’s my turn to look after you. What kind of tea do you want?”

He leaned back into his seat, smiling as if he knew I’d won this round. “The nighttime blend with honey, please,” he said, with a small cough. I made the same thing for myself while Aidan continued to cough and sniffle.

“Here,” I said, setting the mug down in front of him. “You really don’t sound good. Do we have any drugs left over from my last cold you can take?”

Aidan shook his head and coughed heavily into his sleeve before responding. “We’re out of the stuff you took when you had bronchitis, actually. Which is what I really need, with the cough. I did take another decongestant a few minutes ago…I think it’s starting to work a little.” Aidan looked ruefully at the soaked handkerchief still clutched in his palm, now almost beyond any practical use, before tucking it away into the pocket of his robe.

“Hmmm.” We sipped at our tea for a moment. “What about the homemade stuff?”

“I didn’t see any in the fridge.” Aidan’s breath began to hitch, and I handed him a clean paper napkin just as his nostrils began to flare.

“KEHHH-SHUU!” He sneezed messily into the napkin, wiping his nose cautiously afterwards.

“Bless you. Don’t we have any more elderberries? I could make you some. And do you want more tissues?” I was distantly aware that I sounded a little like a mother…maybe even a little like my own mother. I shuddered a bit at the thought.

Aidan didn’t notice my shuddering, as he did a little shudder of his own while quietly blowing his nose, which already must have been tender. “We might have a few elderberries left. I’m out of tissues…used up the last one from my room before I turned in. I knew we were low, but that must be a new record for me.”

“What about the other boxes?”

He chuckled, which made him cough a little. “What other boxes? I finished off the last few tissues in every box in the house after I woke up about an hour ago.”

“Okay, wait here.” I went to my own bedroom and got the half-full box of tissues from my bedside. Aidan had a decent supply of hankies, many of them large and soft, and I could only hope that between those and the tissues, he’d be okay until I could make another shopping trip. Hopefully, the roads and sidewalks would be decent enough that I could go tomorrow after school.

Back in the kitchen, I put the Kleenex on the table, causing Aidan to smile gratefully and look up from his book. I couldn’t help noticing the title - How To Nurture Your Adopted Child. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Sure,” I croaked out through the lump in my throat. To prevent the tears from forming in my eyes, I started rummaging through the pantry for the elderberries to distract myself. I finally found them in an unmarked tin next to the box of raisins. There weren’t many, but it looked like enough to make a small batch. I put a small pot of water on the stove, brought it to a boil, then turned it down to a very low simmer and added the berries. That done, I went back to my seat at the table.

“How’s the book?”

“Informative. I’m almost finished with this chapter.” Another small cough. “Want to play cards or something when I’m done?”

“Sure. How about Uno?”

He beamed. “Perfect.”

TBC?