Wot you sayin'?

Crying Wolf

A/N. I know there are some people who have emetophobia. This might not be a good one to read if you're one of those people.

Worry filled me when Joe and I got off the train to go back home, well, Joe's home, after our amazing time at Blackpool. I thought he must have caught a cold or a flu from there because he was really quiet on the train home. We were with some of the others like Amy and Oti and usually he'd be in on the banter but he wasn't this time. He said it felt quite stuffy so he took off his coat and we'd swapped seats so that he could lean on the window.

Then when we got outside he started shivering like mad and his knees started buckling. "Here, let's sit down for a bit. Wear your coat."

"I feel too hot."

"You're shivering though." I felt his head, but his temperature wasn't exactly high.

"Nooo. Don't make me." He continued shivering.

"Tough. Wear your coat or you'll feel worse." We needed to get him home. "Put your arm around me." He put his arm around my middle and I giggled. "Around my shoulders, silly. I need to support you. I'll put my arm around your middle." He gave me a goofy look.

"Kiss me better?"

"When we're home."

~—~

After getting home Joe grew steadily worse. I was hoping getting him some soup or something might do him some good. I mean, he had to eat something. But after about five minutes of eating that, he raced out of the room and I could hear him wretching. Oh no. Not this week of all weeks.

I thought that might just be the only time he'd throw up, but after the third time I got quite worried. It was getting close to midnight, it was far too late, but I knew I needed to call someone and the only person I could think of was Tracey. My mind went back to the time Joe and I pulled a prank on her, telling her Joe was really sick. She knew full well that we were pranking her. It's just like the story of the boy crying wolf.

"Hi Tracey. This is going to sound really familiar, but Joe is being sick and I don't know what to do." I thought I heard a chuckle on her end of the lines, but then I saw Joe crawling over to bed. "No, Joe. Go back to the bathroom. I'll get you a blanket so you're comfortable." I went in search of a blanket and heard Joe throw up again. "Tracey, what do I do? That's the fourth time." I broke down, exhaustion sending my emotions haywire.

"It's OK, Dianne. Everything will be just fine." That just made me cry harder. "What has he eaten?"

"I gave him some soup. More like a broth."

"Takeaway?" She was in "Mum" mode.

"Yeah. But it's not the food. He wasn't well on the way h—back."

"What was he like?" I chuckled darkly.

"He felt hot in the train then he was shivering outside. He was feeling weak. Didn't have much appetite. But I made him eat." It sounded so much like last time. Why did I agree to pull that prank? "I'm not faking it, OK?" I started crying again.

"Hey, hey. I know. It really is the wolf this time."

"I don't think he'll have much to bring up now." I found a blanket and was wrapping him up in it. "Is a blanket OK?"

Joe said, "Nooo" the same time Tracey said yes.

"I don't want a blanket." Joe's voice sounded really hoarse. "Water."

"Is water OK, Tracey? Do you want to talk to your mum?"

"Yes, water is good. Little sips."

I heard a soft mmm from Joe and before I left to get some water I heard Joe say, "Mum? I don't feel well."

Tracey said, "I know you don't, sweetheart..."

I was so glad Joe was part of a loving family and that I could witness that love in action. Come on Dianne, pull yourself together. You're no use to Joe crying like this. I filled a large glass with water and brought it up to Joe. When I gave it to him I could hear them talking about the show and Tracey was telling him how well he did.

"My Dianne is back, Mum. She doesn't know what to do."

I giggled. "Yeah, I really don't know what to do. Wait, little sips. I know that. Now."

"What's Joe's temperature like?" I felt his forehead and it was really hot. I told Tracey that. "Get a flannel and soak it with water. Rinse it out and put it on his forehead."

As Tracey was saying that, Joe said, "I love you, Dianne. You know you look gorgeous, don't you?"

"I love you too, Joe, but I need to listen to your mum," I said quietly. "Sorry Tracey. What were you saying?"

"Soak a flannel with some water, rinse it and put it on his forehead. Repeat."

"Any temperature? Or would cold water be good?"

"Sorry, no, warm. Not hot, just warm water. For the time being, don't give him any food apart from dry things like crackers. Or toast. Don't put anything on the toast. As far as hygiene is concerned..." She gave me a list of tips, but the ones I really just wanted to focus on was for Joe.

"Thanks, Tracey. I don't know what I would have done without ya."

"Don't worry. Thanks for phoning me. Let me know how he is in the morning."

"I will." I decided to take the bucket and bin liner tip so that he could get comfortable in bed. But I knew it would be a long night when I heard him being sick again.