5SOS BSM

You're Little and Sick and He Takes Care of You (Michael)

Michael (8)

     "Y/N! Time to get up for school!" You heard your brother call from somewhere downstairs.

     Everything around you feels hot, way too hot. You kicked off your blankets searching for any kind of relief. Your skin's exposure to the cool air of your room did nothing to quell the intense heat. Why was it so hot all of the sudden?

     "Y/N, did you hear me? Breakfast is ready."

     You pushed yourself into a seated position, your entire body aching from the effort. "Michael, I..." You made an attempt to answer him, but your throat gave out halfway through your sentence. You cleared your throat to try again, but all you could manage was a strangled croak. You gingerly touched your neck in confusion. What in the world is happening? 

     "Y/N! I really don't want you to be late again. Mom will have my a*s on a platter. Aw s*it, I just swore. Motherf-"

     You push your blankets away from you, your entire body aching even after so little effort. It's still blisteringly hot in here to you. "Mi-" Your voice gives out not even halfway through Michael's name. 

     You hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and it doesn't take long before your brother knocks on the door to your room. "Y/N?" Your throat hurts so bad that you don't even attempt to respond. Michael knocks one last time, and, when you don't answer again, he opens the door. "Oh, good. You're up." He says when he sees you. 

     Your hand flies to your throat as you desperately try to tell him you don't feel well. "Mi- I can't-"

     He raises an eyebrow. "You can't what?"

     You clear your throat and force it to cooperate with you, no matter how painful it is. Your voice comes out rough and small. "I don't feel well."

     Michael gives you a quick look over. "You do seem kind of pale." He moves across the room until he stands right next to you. He rests his hand against your forehead. "You feel really hot. Hold on, let me go get the thermometer Mom left last time you were sick." He leaves the room quickly, leaving you by yourself.

     You'd felt completely fine the day before, and, when you'd gone to bed last night, everything seemed fine. Why was everything going wrong now? You grab one of the stuffed animals from the foot of your bed and hug it to your chest. Out of the many stuffed toys you'd acquired over the years, your favorite was the rainbow bear Michael had given to you for Christmas last year, and that was the one you choose to cuddle with as you fell back against your pillows. You were probably a little too old to be snuggling with a stuffed bear, but you felt so awful that you needed its comfort.

     Michael rushes back into the room. A damp washcloth in one hand, the thermometer he'd gone looking for in the other. "Y/N?" He asks.

     "Yeah?"

      "I know you probably want to just go back to sleep, but let me check your temperature first." He uncaps the thermometer. "You know how this goes."

     You nod and open your mouth, raising your tongue to the roof of your mouth. It only takes a few minutes before the thermometer beeps, and Michael takes it back to look at it. "One hundred and one. That's high." He sets the dampened washcloth gently on your forehead. "You're not going to school today. I'll text Mom and let her know. You can go back to sleep." He leaves the room again, softly closing the door behind him. 

*****

     You have no idea how much time has passed when you wake up again, but there's still light outside. At least you hadn't slept away the entire day. You feel somewhat better than earlier, but your throat is still killing you. You were hungry now though, having not had breakfast this morning. Your hunger won out though as you pushed yourself out of bed, trudging towards the kitchen. 

     "Hey," Michael says as you take a seat at the dining room table. "You feeling any better?"

     "Not really." You manage to croak with a sigh.

     "Well, are you hungry?"

     "Yeah."

     "I can warm up some of the soup I picked up from the grocery store last week. You wait here." He ruffles your hair with a smile and starts about his business in the kitchen. 

     You put your head down on the table, encasing yourself with your arms to block out the light around you as much as possible. Your forehead, your arms, and everything around you felt so hot. Michael usually kept the apartment cold, but it felt like a sauna in here to you.

     You hear being placed on the table in front of you. "Here. You're probably still burning up. Take this." You look up to find a small cup of cherry flavored medicine in front of you.

     You grimace, glaring down at the cup. You clearly remembered how awful the disgusting liquid has tasted the last time you got sick. "I don't want it."

     "Y/N, it'll make you feel better. Please just take it." Michael slides a water bottle across the table to you. "This is so you can make the taste go away faster."

     You cave eventually, downing the medicine and immediately chugging some of the water afterward. "Gross." You say, sticking your tongue out in disgust. 

     The microwave beeps and Michael opens it to pull out the warmed soup, sticking a spoon in the broth before setting it in front of you. "Well, hopefully this won't be."

     You pick up the spoon, gently swirling it through the soup. "Didn't you have to go to work today?" 

     "I did, but I asked everyone if I could skip today. I couldn't leave you home by yourself."

     "Thank you."

     "No problem. Since your talking, does that mean your throat feels better?"

     "Not really." You admit. "It still really hurts, just not as bad."

     "Aw, that sucks. You can go back upstairs and rest when you're done eating. I'm going to make myself something."

     "Okay."

     You're incredibly thankful that you have such an understanding brother like Michael. You lightly blow on the steaming soup, enjoying the taste of the soup. Hopefully, you won't be sick for long.

AN: Thank you for reading everyone! I love you!!