Chickenpox

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Tris' POV

"Hello?" I ask when I pick up my phone.

"Tris, hello," the voice on the other side says. "It's Jennifer, from daycare," she says a little nervous. Oh boy.

"What did he do now?" I ask, already knowing that my little Dauntless son probably ran around the room and broke something. Last time he broke a window with a ball. His father wanted to scold him but the moment he stuck his little lip out pouting Tobias was a goner. He also has a hard time punishing our son, remembering his own father. That's when I usually become the dragon and send my son to his room without any dessert.

"Uhm, nothing like that. He was very quiet today, so unlike him. I think he is sick. Would you come earlier to pick him up. I would have brought him to you, but Cassidy is not here, she is on vacation, and I can't leave the children unsupervised," Jennifer explains.

"Of course, don't worry. I'll be right there," I say and hang up. I think for a moment if I should call Tobias, but every time one of us gets sick he freaks out like it's the end of the world. Maybe it's not even that bad.

I lock the door to my office and walk the short distance to the daycare center. I knock on the door and wait to be let in. However, there's so much noise inside that I doubt anyone heard me. I open the door and see many of the kids playing on the ground with cars or other similar toys.

I look around to see if Jennifer is anywhere nearby. I see her in the left corner near the window and walk toward her.

"Hey Jennifer," I say and she stands up. I look back down and see my son on the small couch lying down.

"Hello Tris," she says and I sit down next to my little boy.

"Hey sweetie," I say and run my hand over his forehead. He doesn't seem to have a fever. "What's wrong, baby?" I ask him and he smiles a little.

"I don't feel well," he says trying to scratch himself.

"I think he has got chickenpox," Jennifer says and I look closer to him. It seems she is right.

"Come on, baby. We go to the infirmary to get you checked out, okay?" I ask him and he bobs his little head. I pull him in my arms and get up. I thank Jennifer for calling me and walk down to the Pit and then one of the hallways down to the infirmary.

We wait for his pediatrician to come into the examination room. Dr. Foster a really nice man who has been my son's doctor ever since he was born checks him and confirms Jennifer's suspicions. He gives me a prescription and tells me what to do. I thank him profusely and pick up my son. I walk to the pharmacy where I get his medicine and decide to stop at Tobias's office to let him know that I'm going home with our son.

"Mommy?" he asks.

"Yes, baby?"

"Aw you upset?" he asks, still unable to pronounce the "r".

"No, why would you think that?" I ask looking at him.

"You look sad," he says and I smile up at him.

"No, baby. I feel bad that you are sick," I say and kiss his forehead. "Come on, we go and visit daddy," I say and he smiles brightly.

When we reach Tobias's office I raise my hand to knock on the door but allow my son to knock instead. At least he tries. He slaps his little hand on the door a few times and giggles. I hear Tobias tell us to enter, already knowing who it is. I open the door and put my son down on his feet. The moment his feet hit the ground he darts toward his father who picks him up immediately, hugging him tightly.

"Hey, buddy. Why aren't you in daycare?" Tobias asks him sitting down on the couch with our son still in his arms.

"Am sick," he says a little sad.

"Sick?" Tobias looks up at me concerned.

"Chickenpox," I answer. "By the way, did you have them?" I ask suddenly aware that if he didn't he might get sick too. And as an adult he might be more vulnerable to complications.

"Yeah. I had almost all the childhood illnesses," he tells me. I let out a sigh of relief.

"Mommy, it's itchy," he whines and I stop him from scratching.

"Come on, big guy. Let's get you home," I say and stretch out my arms to pull him close, but Tobias gets up and holds him close to him. "What are you doing?" I ask him confused.

"I'm going home with you," he says getting his phone and keys from his desk.

"Honey, you have work to do. We'll be fine until you come home," I say, but somehow my statement lacks conviction.

"Nope. My family needs me and there's nothing more important than you two. You are the most important people in my life," he says before kissing my lips.

"Kiss, kiss," our son squeals.

"You want a kiss too?" I ask him and he bobs his little head. I kiss him on the right cheek, while Tobias kisses him on his left.

We walk home and spend the rest of the afternoon curled up on the couch watching one of our son's favorite movies and eating cake.

Sometimes being sick isn't that bad.



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