Under pressure

41: Sick (Part 1)

The next day

Betty's POV

I wake up 'cause I'm really cold, but sweating. To my suprise, Jug is still sleeping.

I now feel how his body is burning under mine. I put my hand onto his forehead and sigh, feeling it's hot.

I feel gross, but if my baby's sick, I'm gonna take care of him even if I wanna puke and my head is hurting.

I sit up carefully, not to wake him up, and kiss his forehead. I get up from the bed and pull on my hoodie. And then go downstairs.

"Morning," I say tiredly to everyone. My voice sounds horrible. All the boys have a hangover.

"Hey," Jelly, Cher and dad say as the boys are basically sleeping on the table.

I walk to the medicine cabinet and take out a thermometer and a pill for lowerimg the fever.

Dad stops me as I start going back out from the kitchen. His hand goes onto my forehead. Then he raises his eyebrows up, "What are you doing out of bed? You're burning up."

I furrow my eyebrows and touch my forehead. "No I'm not. Jug is."

He touches it again and then my neck. I get chills as his cold hand touches it.

"I'll be there in a minute. You obviously have a fever."

I keep frowning as I go upstairs. I mean I do have a little cold, but no fever."

I climb back into bed. "Hey," Jug says with a hoarsy voice.

"Hey," I say back with the sane voice.

He chuckles tiredly, "You're sick."

"I'm not. You are," I say. He kisses my forehead and dad comes into the room.

"Okay, you two," he sighs and puts one hand on my and the other on Jug's forehead.

"You first," he sighs, handing Jug the thermometer. I just put my head back onto his chest and close my eyes.

"99.5 (37.5°C)," I hear Jug saying.

"Okay, not bad, you just need some rest and lots of water," dad says with a sigh. "Your turn."

I keep my eyes closed. "Betty," Jug says quietly. I open my eyes a little. They chuvkle at my face.

"I thought you were sick, not me," I say, placing it under my armpit.

"Don't you feel sick?" dad asks.

"Yeah," I mumble with a sigh, making them chuckle again. "Not funny," I pout and close my eyes again. Jug kisses my hair.

The thermometer starts beeping. I take it and my eyes widen, seeing the numbers. 104 (40°C).

"Betty," Jug sighs worriedly. I groan quietly and drop my head back onto his chest.

Dad sighsworriedly. "Look. If you wanna ever get better, you can't share the bed at the moment. One of you gets better, the other one is contagious and so the chain just continues."

I look at Jug sadly. He kisses my forehead, "Get some sleep. I'll go and get Jor sick."

I sigh as he gets up. He lets his hand slide over my hair the last time and gets up.

"Do you want anything to eat Jug?" dad asks.

Jug looks back just as he's about to go out of the room. "Not really."

"Wow, he's sick," I mumble, but they don't hear it. I hope.

"I'll get you some tea," dad sighs.