Steady On My Knees //BOY MEETS WORLD//

Whats a "Chicken Pox"? (Part 2)

Mr Turner managed to get the boy home in one piece, and now stood in the kitchen area, a mug of coffee in one hand, watching as the boy dozed lightly on the couch- brows drawn down in worry.

He'd phoned up the doctors, listing all of the boys symptoms- and they'd confirmed that it was in fact the chicken pox.

The woman on the other end offered him the best advice she could for the time being, which were little things such as ensuring the kid had plenty of rest, was drinking lots of fluids, wearing comfortable clothing, and not scratching himself if the itchiness had already began.

Which, Jon noted, had started up as soon as he got home.

He'd also noticed, as Shawn changed into more comfortable clothes, that the small cluster of spots that had appeared on his face had now spread to more areas. His chest and arms were littered with them, all looking sore and blistering, and quite frankly, downright disgusting.

And even though Jon had been given the best advice possible for his situation, he still felt utterly helpless.

"You're new to this, aren't you?" The lady had said, voice sounding suspiciously teasing on the other end of the phone.

"How could you tell?" He'd asked.

"Woman's intuition" was her reply.

And boy, did he wish he had some of that 'woman's intuition' right now.

A noise from the couch shook him from his thoughts, and he quickly glanced back over to the living area.

He saw the boy stir, lazily blinking his eyes open a few times, before beginning up his scratching again.

"Shawn" Jon called, voice stern, and watched as the kid froze mid itch. "Stop"

He itched again.

"Now"

"But I'm itchy!" He heard him whine, kicking off the blankets that had been thrown over him. "And warm" he huffed, weakly wiping the perspiration from his brow.

And then, pitifully, "Jon"

The man sighed, put his mug down on the counter and circled round to the couch. Shawn didn't miss the pair of oven-mitts the man picked up from the kitchen island on the way.

Jon sat himself down by the boys feet, and leant over to feel the teens forehead. It was warm, but not worryingly so. He gave a little internal sigh of relief at that.

"You not as warm as you were earlier" he said, but the boy huffed and squirmed nonetheless.

"I still feel warm" the boy whined. "I feel like someone poured hot lava down my throat and into my belly, and it's burning me from the inside out"

Jonathon rolled his eyes at the kids dramatics, before noticing that he was still secretly itching the side of his ribs, hoping his teacher couldn't see.

He could.

"Hey, hey, hey!" His Teacher and newly appointed guardian snapped, quickly grabbing the boys wrist and stopping him from his scratching. Shawn gave an indignant shout, and tried to wriggle his hand from the older mans grasp.

Jon just gripped his arm tighter and glared, "No. Scratching."

"Fine" Shawn huffed, voice thick and croaky.

Jonathon gave him a stern look, "promise?"

The boy glared back, but it was not nearly as intimidating as the hard stare the older man was giving him. After a few moments, Shawn looked away, unnerved, and squirmed in his seat.

"...yeah, whatever"

The hand released his wrist, and Jon sat back in his seat, allowing himself to relax.

They watched the TV in silence.

A few blissfully quiet minutes passed before the English teacher heard rustling from beside him, and glanced out of the corner of his eyes to check up on his ward.

Who was vigorously scratching at him arms.

"That's it" the man said, grabbing both of Shawns arms this time and pinning them between his elbow.

"Hey!" The boy shouted in shock, voice breaking. He struggled fitfully for release. "Jon!"

The man in question reached over for the oven mittens he'd picked up earlier and stuffed them onto the teens hands.

"What's the deal?!" Shawn cried, brows scrunching in confusion. He kicked out at the man, catching him in the stomach.

"Jesus, Shawn, would ya just hold still?!" Jon snapped, leaning over to the side-table and rooting through the drawer with his free hand. A few short seconds later it emerged holding a roll of duct tape.

"I'm trying to help you"

And with that, the man began wrapping the bottom of the mittens in duct tape, sealing them tightly onto to the boys wrists.

"Finished" Jon said, loosening his hold, and sitting comfortably back in his seat as if nothing had happened.

Shawn ripped free of the mans hold, and stared down at his mitten covered hands. "What was that for?" He asked, giving his guardian a wide-eyed look.

Jon, who eyes were fixed on the tv once more, smirked, "you'll see"

Shawn stared, perplexed, for a little while longer, before too leaning back and watching the tv once more.

Silence resumed.

———————————————————————

"Oh"

A smirk.

"What the heck?"

A giggle.

"Oh, you bastard"

A laugh, "Whats the matter, Shawn?"

"I can't scratch myself! These mittens won't let me itch my spots properly!"

"That's a shame"

Silence again.

"...You are Satan in human form"

"Thanks kid"

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Hello! I'm so sorry for not updating in a while. Thank you again for reading and hopefully i'll get the hang of this "regular updating" thing eventually! 😂😂

Let me know if you're liking this story so far, if people are in character or not. Any suggestions for future chapters are greatly welcomed too!

xx