Daddy's Precious Little Girl

A Sick Little

Ethan's POV

As I entered the infirmary, a rush of anxiety mixed with relief washed over me. The soft, clinical scent of antiseptic hung in the air, contrasting sharply with the warmth of Ashlynn in my arms. The nurse on duty, a kind woman with a reassuring smile, quickly assessed the situation as I laid Ashlynn down in the crib-style hospital bed. The sight of her small form nestled in the bed tugged at my heart, and I felt a wave of protectiveness wash over me.

Dr. Mitchell, the school's physician, arrived moments later. He looked down at Ashlynn, his brow furrowing slightly as he noted her flushed cheeks. "Let's have a look," he said, his voice calm and steady. I watched anxiously as he checked her temperature again, his fingers gentle against her forehead.

"103 degrees, huh?" he murmured, glancing at me with a practiced calm. "That's a bit high, but we'll take good care of her."

"What's wrong with her?" I asked, my voice tinged with worry. "Is she going to be okay?"

Dr. Mitchell met my gaze, a reassuring smile on his face. "She'll be just fine, Ethan. It's likely just a viral infection, common this time of year. We'll keep her here for the night, monitor her fluids, and make sure she stays comfortable."

I exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease slightly. "Thank you," I breathed, my gratitude pouring out as the weight on my chest began to lift.

The doctor gently examined Ashlynn, checking her pulse and looking into her eyes. "She's responsive, which is a good sign," he said. "But we want to ensure her fever doesn't go higher, so fluids are important. We'll set her up with an IV to keep her hydrated."

As I watched the doctor and nurse prepare the IV, a wave of memories flooded back—memories of Duncan, my first Little. I remembered the nights I had spent beside his crib-style hospital bed, helpless as I watched him fight against the odds. The sight of Ashlynn now, nestled in a similar bed, twisted my heart in ways I hadn't anticipated.

I shook my head, trying to push the memories away, but they clung to me like shadows. "Will she be in pain?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Not if we can help it," he replied, adjusting the IV stand beside the crib. "We'll keep her comfortable and monitor her closely. If she needs anything, we'll be right here."

I nodded, my heart heavy with concern. The thought of losing Ashlynn, like I had lost Duncan, was unbearable.

As Ashlynn snuggled deeper into her crib, I felt a sense of calm wash over me, but the lingering memories threatened to overwhelm me. "I'm right here, sweet girl," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "You're safe."

Dr. Mitchell glanced at me as the nurse finished setting up the IV, offering an encouraging smile. "Just keep talking to her, Ethan. Your presence will help her feel secure. Littles often respond well to the calming voice of someone they trust."

"Thank you for your help," I said, my voice thick with gratitude. "I just want her to be okay."

"She'll bounce back, trust me," Dr. Mitchell replied, his tone reassuring. "We'll keep a close watch on her throughout the night."

As I sat there, the weight of my past heavy in my heart, I vowed to do everything in my power to ensure Ashlynn felt cared for and loved through this. I was determined to be the protector she needed, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

*****

Last night felt like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. After settling Ashlynn into the infirmary crib, I had hoped the calming environment would help her rest. But as the hours passed, it became clear that she was far from comfortable. She stirred frequently, her small whimpers echoing through the stillness of the infirmary, and each time she awoke, her eyes darted around in confusion and fear.