Michael Clifford imagines

Sick

Credit to 5sos-imaginethat

Mommy," You hear your little girl, Laura (a/n: idk you can change it if u want), whine.
"What, baby?" You ask her, walking into her room.
"I don't feel good." She whispers, beginning to cry. You pick her up, hugging her small, 5 year old form in your arms.
"Tell me what's wrong, dollface," Michael, your husband, says, walking into the room with a concerned look on his face.
"My tummy and my head hurt," She says, crying even more. You rock her back and forth in your arms, holding her close to you.
"I'm sorry, honey. Do you want to lay down?" You ask her, pulling her away and wiping her tears. She nods her head yes.
Well, obviously something is wrong, because she never wants to take a nap. You look at Michael behind you, panicked, as you lay her down in bed. He steps over to the edge, picking up the edge of the blanket in his left hand.
"Do you want your blanket, sweetie?" He asks, looking more concerned than before.
"No, daddy, it's too hot." She replies, wiping her face with her hand. He places the back of his hand onto her forehead, checking her temperature.
"Oh my god, Juliana," He says, wide-eyed. "She's burning up." You bite your lip, wide-eyed as well.
"I mean, she got sick last year and had a fever," You say, trying to calm yourself down.
"Yeah, but this fever is way hotter than that one was," He replies, running out of the room.
"I'll be right back, honey." You say, kissing her burning, feverish forehead and racing out after Michael, who you find in the kitchen, running a washcloth under cold water.
"I'm scared, Mikey." You whisper. "The last time she was sick she never cried or complained like this." You bring your fingers to your mouth, anxiously chewing on your fingernails. Michael steps over to you, slipping his arms around your waist.
"I'm scared too," He replies. "But we don't even know how sick she is, yet. If she gets any worse, we'll call a doctor and make an appointment. Don't worry." He gives you a sheepish smile and kisses your lips.
You hear Laura's loud cry once again, and you both run straight to her room, seeing her hunched over the edge of the bed. She had just thrown up on the floor.
"Oh, baby!" You exclaim, running to her side and picking her up, taking her to the bathroom. Michael stays behind, doing his best to quickly clean up the mess. After he's finished he joins you in the bathroom, where Laura is throwing up into the toilet, you holding back her long brown hair.
After a few more minutes of heaving, she is totally worn out. You run a bath of warm water for her and help her out of her nightgown, picking her up and setting her into the tub. You help her wash her hair and face, and after she's done you dry her off, brushing her hair and putting on a new nightgown. She brushes her teeth and you carry her back to her bed, Michael bringing a new washcloth to lay on her forehead. You go out into the garage and grab a bucket, setting it near her bedside, just in case she needed it. She quickly falls asleep, with Michael singing to her.
He takes hold of your hand, leading you out to the hallway.
"Juliana, I'm really worried about her." He says, eyes frantic.
"Me too, baby. She's never been so sick. I think we should call a doctor." It was only about 6:00, so you grab the phone and make the call.
While you're making the appointment, Michael goes back to Laura's bedside, taking hold of her limp hand, telling her how much he loves her.
"When you're mommy told me that we were going to have you, I was the happiest guy in the world," He whispers, not wanting to wake her up. "and the day you were born, I held you in my arms and thought about how lucky I was. I'm the luckiest daddy in the world." He rubs little circles into her small hand, continuing his little speech. "You look so much like your mommy. And it's a good thing, too, because you have the prettiest mommy in the whole world. I love you so much, princess, sleep tight." He finishes, kissing her hand and letting go, getting off his knees and leaving the room, turning off the light but leaving the nightlight on.
"Okay, so tomorrow at noon." You say, grabbing his hand and interlocking your fingers. After today's ordeal, you're both very tired, and decide to head to bed early.
-
The next morning, you wake up first, and head straight to Laura's room, flipping on the light switch. You see her pale face, paler than usual. Worried, you rush to her side grabbing her hand.
"Laura? Laura, baby, wake up." You say, hoping she awake.
She doesn't.
You shake her shoulders a bit. "Laura, honey." You say, louder.
Still no response.
"M-Mikey!" You shout lifting her out of her bed and into your arms, running to your bedroom. "Mikey, wake up!" You cry.
He opens his eyes, seeing his limp daughter in your arms, and the frantic look on your face.
He immediately sits up.
"Juliana, what's wrong?" He says, standing up and running a hand through his hair as he steps over to you.
"She won't wake up!" You screech, tears running down your face. He immediately grabs his car keys from the bedside table.
"Let's go!" He says, running to the front door and opening it for you. You hop into the car, still holding your seemingly lifeless daughter in your shaking arms. You buckle your seatbelt, and so does Michael, but you continue to hold onto Laura.
-
When you get to the emergency room, you race out of the car, clutching Laura in your arms as Michael's runs to catch up to you.
You run straight to the counter, tears streaming down your face in a heavy flow.
"H-help," You stutter out to the woman behind the counter. "M-my daughter w-won't wake up!"
They immediately get doctors and nurses to come out, and they take your daughter from you, much to your dismay. Michael instantaneously wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest while you sob. You can hear him sniffling, a tear of his falling onto your shoulder.
"It's gonna be okay," He whispers, rubbing your back soothingly. "She's going to be just fine." But you can hear the uncertainty in his voice.
-
A few hours later, a doctor comes out and walks over to where you and Michael are seated. The both of you immediately stand up, holding hands tightly.
"She's stable," The doctor states, clipboard in hand. "Bad case of the flu. Sometimes it can cause children severe pain, and sometimes it requires hospitalization. This is one of the instances."
"C-can we see her?" Michael asks quietly, about ready to jump out of his skin from wanting to see his poor, sick daughter.
"Yes, of course. But first," He replies. "Did you plan on taking her to see a doctor?"
Michael nods vigorously. "We had an appointment set up for today at noon, but when my wife, Juliana, went to check on her this morning, she wouldn't move or wake up." The doctor nods, like it isn't too out of the ordinary.
"Well, it's good that you were cautious. She's okay now, I'll lead you to her room." He make a 'c'mon' gesture with his hands, leading you away to your daughter.
You walk into the room, and see that she's still asleep. You and Michael sit in the chairs on either side of her hospital bed, each of you grabbing one of her hands.
You start to cry, kissing her cold hand over and over. "I can't believe this happened. She's only fucking 5 years old, she should never have had to go through this." You say through clenched teeth.
Michael nods. "I know, baby, but she's okay now. That's all that matters.
-
Eventually, the rest of the boys show up for some much needed best friend comfort.
They seem to cheer you both up some, when finally, Laura opens her eyes and slightly sits up.
"Mommy, daddy?" She says in a quiet voice. You both breathe a sigh of relief.
"Yes, sweetie?" You ask, simultaneously, causing a giggle to come from both of you.
"What happened?" She asks.
"You got really sick, princess," Michael says. "but you're okay now, the doctors took care of you." You let go of her hand and sit next to Michael, nuzzling your face into his neck. He kisses your head.
"Everything's okay now." He says, holding his little daughters hand tightly in his.
Everything was okay.