Warning: very brief mentions of self harm and suicide (hardly much)
Note: I know that with scars Kellin would not be able to wear clothes that reveal them, he probably wouldn't get the job at all. But this is fanfiction, I can make the world how I wish it could be, because no one deserves to be shamed for their scars.
Not edited⚔
•|Kellin's Pov|•
"Hey Kellin, we have a new child here. He has the flu and because there are many kids at his home, he is gonna ride it out here, to prevent them from getting sick as well." My friend Lynn says, handing me a clipboard with his information. I decide I'll read it all later, and just hold it close to me.
"You need to give him this." She says, handing me a big bottle of medicine and a packet of spoons.
"All of the spoons are because you're making a run of all the rooms today. I'll give you a list of room numbers which hold children that need the medicine. Just go to Thomas first and then come back, he's nervous so make sure he's okay." She says, and I give her a warm smile before glancing at the top of his information to find the room number. I speed walk towards his hall and turn a few corners, before coming up to the room in which he is held.
I knock on the door lightly, before opening it. I slowly walk inside and see and adorable little boy on the bed, looking up at me nervously. I sit the stuff in my hands on the table, before getting some hand sanitizer and rubbing it into my hands.
"Hey there, Thomas. I am here to make you feel better, okay?" I ask him, and he nods shyly. I open the bottle of red, thick liquid and take out a plastic spoon.
"I know this stuff doesn't taste too good, but I need you to be a big boy for me." I say, and hold the spoon to his mouth. He pouts and shakes his head, backing away from the spoon.
"You aren't gonna get better if you don't take it, silly." I tell him, and he refuses once again. I sigh and think of something I can do to get him to take it.
"I'll take it with you. Would taking it together make you feel better?" I ask him, and he hesitates for a second, before nodding his head.
"Okay then." I tell him, setting his spoon down carefully and getting a new spoon for me. I pour the medicine on my spoon, but significantly less than his because I'm not actually sick.
I pick his spoon up and put it back to his mouth.
"On three, okay? One, two, three." I count slowly, pushing the spoons into both of our mouths. We both screw our face up at the taste and consistency, swallowing quickly. I hand him a small cup of water for him to drink, and he accepts it.
"You'll be better soon, Thomas. I know you probably want to go home." I tell him, taking his cup when he hands it to me.
"I don't have a home." He says in a cute voice, making me furrow my brow in confusion.
"Why not?" I ask him, sitting on the edge of his bed.
"I live in a big place, with a bunch of other kids. I've only been there for a few months, I don't like it there." He says quietly, and I give him a sympathetic smile. He's an orphan.
"I'm sure you'll warm up to it eventually. I have to go, Thomas. I'll see you later today." I tell him, grabbing my things and beginning to walk away.
"Are you a superhero?" He asks out of nowhere, making me look at him weirdly.
"What, sweetie?" I ask him, walking back to him, and sitting the things on the table once again.
"My daddy told me that people with red marks on their arms are super heros because they fought too long with the bad guys." He explains in a very intelligent manner for his age. I look down at my scars and smile sadly.
