Sick Days

Guilt

Soda's POV

A few days go by and man am I still sick. I've thrown up twice in the last three days, and my head is constantly pounding.

I've been resigned to staying in my room for a while, only coming out to use the bathroom.

Pony's feeling better. Darry told me he ate a whole piece of chocolate cake and never got sick. Hopefully, it stays that way.

Two-Bit and Steve come into the room once in a while, but they keep their distance, knowing it's contagious. They sit at the door and we talk for a while until I drift off to sleep.

Darry takes my temp the next day and it reads 100. He tries not to look worried but I can see the feeling making its way through. He gives me strict instructions to rest and drink plenty of water, and tells me that he'll give my boss a call, letting him know that I won't be in for a while.

When he gets off the phone, he comes back into the room and lets out a coarse laugh. "That boss of yours is a surly bastard." I let out a weak chuckle and say, "Yeah, that's Johnson."

***

Pony's POV

It's been a few days since Soda got sick and it's like a morgue around here; too quiet. With me focusing on all the schoolwork I've missed and Darry paying the bills, we just keep to ourselves. 

Steve and Two-Bit are less obnoxious, and they only fool around every so often. I'm sure Darry  laid down the law that it needs to stay quiet when one of us is sick.

I finish one day's worth of homework and I find myself getting really tired. It's only six, but with all the time I've spent trying to get the homework finished, it sure feels later than that.

***

Darry's POV

I'm hunched over, trying to pay the bills when the bathroom door slams. Retching noises come from the bathroom and I'm quick to go check on Soda.

He's laying against the bathtub, and he looks up at me when I enter. I take in his sickly appearance. His eyes are glossy, face pale, and he's shaking something awful.

"Darry," he groans, "make it stop. Please."

I sit next to him and just as Pony had done, he leans against me with his head on my shoulder. 

I'm with him for a few minutes, and he passes out. He's snoring softly, so gently I move him off me and flush the toilet before picking a heavy Soda up off the floor and taking him to his room.

I lay him on the bed and begin to walk out of the room. I glance back at his sleeping form and sigh. How did mom and dad do this so well? 

I go to the kitchen and Pony looks up. "How is he?" I let out a heavy sigh. "Really sick. He passed out while I was sitting with him and then I put him in his bed."

"Geez," he says, looking guilty. "This is my fault, isn't it?"

I shake my head. "No, these things just happen sometimes, Pony. Even if you did give it to him, you couldn't have controlled it." 

He looks at the hallway. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

***

The next day, I finally go back to school. Many people ask me how I'm feeling, if I'm better, while others try to keep as much distance between us as possible. I don't blame them.

I go to all my classes without getting sick, and I eat lunch with Two-Bit and Steve outside in front of the school.

I'm glad things are returning back to normal. Soda's still sick, but he's not throwing up as often and that's a good sign. His temp is slowly returning back to normal and he's regained some of the color in his face.