Until You're Cured

Nine Days

A/N: I’m sorry this one is shorter than usual, I was having a hard time writing it.

Emmi

Nine Days

The  bipping of the alarm wakes me up to see, Scott is still asleep next to me. I roll over and put a hand on his shoulder, looking at his still sleeping face. There’s something off about him.

“Babe?” I murmur.

Scott grumbles before mumbling, “Headache. Sleep.”

“One of your bad ones?” I ask, beginning to rub his shoulders, which has always kept him more comfortable. I know how bad his headaches get. They are killer and make it impossible to focus. When a headache hits, school is not an option and people have to help take care of him.

He nods,”Tell Mom.” His smirk lets me know that it isn’t that bad and that he just doesn’t want to go to school.

“Seriously, Scott?” I ask, an edge of annoyance in my voice.

“Mom’s got appointments all day today. You’d have to stay home to make sure i was okay, wouldn’t you?” Scott asks pointedly, but still mumbly.

“Yeah, I would.” I smile and hurry up the stairs to find Mrs. Hoying. She’s sitting at the kitchen table, eating scrambled eggs with ham and cheese in them. I know it’s her favorite. I sit down next to her, saying, “Scott’s got one of his headaches.”

“Oh, poor baby...I can’t stay home today though. Do you think it’d be okay for you to stay home to look after him? I have so many errands I have to run before dinner tonight.” She lets out a loud  sigh. I know that she’s always wanted to take good care of her five kids and that she hate’s it when she can’t do it herself, but that’s just how it is sometimes.

I cross the room and wrap my arms around her. She tenses at the contact, but just a second later her shoulders relax and she returns the loose embrace. “I’ll do it. Don’t worry, Scott will be safe in my hands, Mrs. Hoying.”

“Thank you, Mitch.” She whispers, releasing me.

Back downstairs, I climb into bed next to Scott. “Hey, Scotty?”

“Yeah?”

Do you even have a headache?”

“Yeah, but it’s not bad. I’d say 85% chance it goes away in like, this much time,” Scott answers, smirking and holding up his thumb and forefinger, about an inch apart. I shake my head. He does that thing with the ‘this much time’ occasionally and I have no idea why. I’ve never seen anyone else doing it.

“So, that 15% was worth staying home?”I ask, pointedly. I can’t help it, I’m grinning. Thank god he is facing away from me.

“Only because I knew you’d be here with me. We’ve got nine days, let’s use them to the best of our ability.”

“What if we had more than nine days? Like if we could get married?” I wonder aloud.

Scott just shifts so his head lays on my chest. It’s an odd reversal, but I like it. We lay quietly until Scott speaks up, “Well, we’d have to run away. But where would we go? There’s nowhere that we could get to that isn’t a Cured society. Anywhere Cured would never allow it.”

“Well, what about if we could get to Europe? England? London? Brighton? Or...ooh! France? Paris?” I begin to babble excitedly.

“England. Or what about Spain, sorry, España. Señor Perez would kill me for saying it wrong. We don’t speak French, we took Spanish. But then again, your Spanish is pathetic, England is the best choice,” he teases me. I lightly smack his arm.