Sick Day (Minority Report (TV series), Dash)

[lillian]

Look! Something that's not Generation Kill! 

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Laura stared at him. “You “didn’t realize?” how do you not “realize” that you’re sick?”

Dash shrugged helplessly, eyes going wide and frantic. 

“I– I don’t—” 

“Dash. Breathe. It’s a question.” 

“I haven’t… been sick in a while. Not since I was a kid.”

Laura raised her eyebrows.

“Not a lot of opportunities to contract something when you’re unconscious in a hivemind for a decade.” 

“And now you’re out here in the middle of it. Oh God…” 

“No, no, don’t worry – we were fully vaccinated and inoculated with an annual cocktail of the year’s projected top ten viruses. My immune system is fine. I’m just…”

“Not familiar with the feeling?”

“...Yeah. My nose is very itchy and my throat hurts–”

“So you’re coming down with a cold?”

“Yes? I guess so?”

Laura took a deep breath. “Look, I can give you the day off, but–” 

“Thank you. I’ll be at Wally’s – if anything… happens.”

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“Where’s your shadow?” Blake asked.

“Sick day,” Laura said, turning her attention to the readings on the screen. She looked up when Blake was silent. 

“He’s human, Blake. Pre-cogs catch colds too.”

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Wally unlocked all five locks, then edged the door open, relaxing when he saw Dash’s face.

“Oh hello, you.” 

He stepped back, letting Dash in. 

“Hi, Wally.” Dash looked uncomfortable, glancing around. Then he stiffened and buried his face in the crook of his elbow just in time to catch–

“hzz’SHH! h’zschhheww!!” 

He glanced up over his bent arm, green eyes flooded with tears, and Wally melted. 

“Oh no,” he said softly. “You’ve got a cold.”

“I thidk so… at least that’s what Vega said.” 

He was so hoarse and congested that it’d be hard to miss, even if Wally hadn’t taken care of him for six years. 

“Okay,” Wally said softly. “Have a seat on the couch and I’ll get some tea started, sound good?”

The stress dropped from Dash’s shoulders as he nodded. “Okay.” He went to the couch and flopped onto it, yanking the afghan down from where it was draped over the back and pulling it over himself. 

This would be easy, hopefully.

A choked gasp came from the living room, followed by a hollow thud. 

Or not.

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Dash came to abruptly, coughing. 

“Easy kid, easy.” 

“Hook be up.” Dash struggled to his feet. 

“Not gonna do that. You need rest.”

“We dod’t have tibe!”

Wally sighed, then reached for the notepad on the table. 

“Then we do it the old fashioned way.” He handed the notepad to Dash. “What did you see?”
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FIN

Edited April 17 by lillian