Part of the Team - A Syfy's Neverland Fanfiction

Sick

A/N hi guys! Sorry I haven't written in, wow, at least a year, probably more? Most likely more? My school work in the last year became very rigorous so I took off a bit to focus on grades. This story especially seems to be a favorite so I'll update.

Just a note of warning, my writing has also matured a lot and changed as of late, so you may find that apparent as you read.

I don't guarantee frequent updates, as my school work will only get more rigorous from here. However, your constant comments always seem to lure me in, so I'll try to update when I can.

Without much more ado, here's the new chapter:

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A series of coughs and groans woke me late at night, pulling me from my not so pleasant dream of my family splitting apart over a conflict involving an item we had nicked. I looked to my right, and lying in a miserable sweat on his bed was Curly, his hair plastered to his forehead. His breathing sounded heavy and labored, like he couldn't pull in enough air to suit him. I pushed off my covers, instantly feeling the biting air of London's harsh winter seeping through my thin nightgown. I tiptoed on my sock clad feet over to Curly.

"Psst," I whispered, "Curls, you okay?"

"No" he murmured, "I think I'm sick, Cat."

I extended my hand out, brushing his slick forehead, finding it to be too hot for any healthy person. I ran over to our small kitchen area and wet a rag in our water basin, wrung it out, and slung it over my shoulder. The cold water permeated my nightgown and my shoulder felt frozen, but I continued. Filling a small tin cup with water from the same basin, I carefully treaded back to Curley and sat on the edge of his small bed. Taking the rag from my shoulder, I set it on his forehead, in hopes to sooth his raging fever. He noted the cup in my hand and reached for it.

"I can give myself a drink, Cat," he protested, "I'm not that ill."

Still doubting him, I slowly passed him the cup. His hand reached to grab the cup, but when it reached his fingertips, he dropped it, sending the tin vessel to the floor with a clink!

"Maybe not," he mumbled.

I stepped carefully over the small puddle, refilled the cup and returned to the bed. Slipping my hand behind his head, like I had seen Jimmy do for Peter before, I carefully helped him lift his head so he could drink the cup of water. He accepted it without protest and drank the whole thing in record time. I paused.

"I'm going to get Jimmy," I told him. "I don't know what else I should do and he knows where the medicine is."

Curley merely nodded and laid his head back down. I grabbed my coat, pulling it on for warmth and treaded upstairs to Jimmy's personal quarters. It was a sort of unspoken rule that no one went in there unless they needed something from him. I carefully walked to his door, pausing before I knocked. There was a slight shuffling and a few moments later the door opened.

    "Cat," Jimmy sounded surprised. "Is everything alright? Have you had another one of your nightmares? It's been a while since you've had one."

     "No, I'm okay, but erm, Curley isn't. You see, I woke up because he was coughing so I got him some water and put a cool rag on his head, but I'm not really sure how else to help. He seems really sick."

    "I'll be down shortly. Go back to bed, don't worry about it. He'll be okay."

     I nodded silently and tread quietly back down the stairs. The chill of London's harsh winter seeped through my nightgown once more as a breeze blew through a crack somewhere in the wall. Perhaps Peter had just left the window open again. He spent so much time on the roof, doing goodness knows what.

     Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I located another dry rag, mopped the spilt water off the floor, and discarded the rag over the iron rod that hung over the unlit fireplace. Wiping my damp hands on my nightie, I pulled on an extra pair of socks to keep me warm. Jimmy didn't let us light the fireplace at night, for fear of our home and his fencing academy burning down. Neither we could afford to lose.

     I returned to my small bed, drew back the covers and laid down once again. Pulling my sheet and blanket over me, I savored the warmth that had clung to them from when I had risen earlier. Turning onto my side I whispered to Curley:

     "Jimmy's on his way down. Don't worry, you'll be better in no time."

     Through the darkness I could see him nod, and from upstairs I heard Jimmy begin to descent into our main living space. He pulled a wooden stool from our makeshift living room and set it beside Curley's bed, walking away to a cabinet in our little kitchen. Pulling a glass vial and a spoon from within, he returned to Curley's side.  He felt his forehead like I had done, and nodded at the wet rag placed on it

     "Don't worry about a thing," Jimmy comforted. He poured some contents of the glass bottle into the spoon and coaxed it into Curley, who accepted it with little resistance. Jimmy rose and placed the spoon in the empty basin and the medicine back in the cabinet, replaced the stool and returned to Curley and I.

    "Get some sleep, you two," he offered, "You'll feel better, no doubt."

     With that sentiment in mind, I succumbed to the weight that had been tugging on my eyelids and finally feel asleep.

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Thanks again for remaining interested, you guys! Like I said, updates I cannot guarantee or promise, but if I find spare time I'll try my hardest to remember I've got readers who anticipate the next chapter.