Tu Es Ma Lumière

22 - Sick Puppies *Modern*

Little Mary Valois-Anguleme woke up slowly. Her pretty golden eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the horrible light in her bedroom. She breathed in and out slowly, noting the burn in her throat and her nose. Her head throbbed and she turned away from the horrible sunlight. She ran a hand through her sweaty hair, rolling over with a groan when the sunlight wouldn't leave her closed eyes alone.

Her nose hit a warm body, but she didn't jerk or open her eyes to see who it was. She already knew. It felt like a lifetime ago that she would be filled with fear at the feeling of a figure in her bed, but not anymore. No, the little girl merely curled into the warm body and closed her eyes tighter. He was comfortable and she loathed to move away and disturb them both. She fell back to sleep.

She woke up to the sound of coughing. Frowning, Mary removed her head from his chest and looked up at him in wonder. She poured in sympathy for him, ignoring the burning in her throat and the spinningness of her head. Her hand moved over his black pyjama top to wrap around his hand.

Her beautiful foster brother looked down at her, swallowing down his coughs to try and talk to her. He looked awful. His cheeks were puffy and pale, flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat. Their hands were hot. It didn't make a difference, but if it did, it just made him cough harder into his hand. She poured in sympathy, leaning down to wrap her arms around him in a hug, to try and comfort him, it seemed.

"Ma-" he was cut off from calling for his mother by another cough. Mary bit her lip, trying to sit up and fetch Catherine, but her stomach rolling and lurching cut off her movements. Not just that, but his arm slid around her little body and pulled her back to him. Obeying his silent request, the six year old girl curled back into his warm body. She swallowed thickly, but it did nothing to soothe her scorching throat.

"Mama!" Francis finally croaked, hitting his hand against her bedside table. Mary winced at the noise, for it made her migraine worse. She wimpered, curling up in his arms again, covering her ears with hot hands and sweaty hair. Little Mary started to shiver, and her Francis hit the table with more urgency, seeing this next symptom.

Finally, the sound of running feet echoed and little Francis sighed in relief, leaning his head into hers. Mary closed her eyes, appreciating this little bit of comfort.

~~

"Catherine," Henry Valois-Angouléme gasped, rushing into his foster daughter's bedroom. He saw two little figures on the bed, the family doctor at the foot collecting whatever she needed to. He spotted his little wife a few feet away, her arms wrapped around her torso, staring at their children in concern. "I came as soon as I heard, what's happened?" he gasped, his suit disheveled and crooked. He marched right over to the six year old figures, placing his large hand on each of their brows. Henry winced, feeling the heat of his children's skin. He walked over to his wife.

"They-they're so sick." Catherine stated quietly, watching the doctor with rapt attention. "I can't soothe them no matter what I do." She paused. "Their fevers are so high, they've got rashes on their cheeks, they can't eat anything and they've been fainting, Henry!" Catherine gasped aloud. "I don't know what to do." she stated, her voice full of worry. The adoption may have fell through because of Mary's maternal biological family, but the little girl was just as much her child as Francis.

Henry turned when he heard Mary let out a weak, high pitched moan. He winced as she suddenly started violently regurgitating into a bucket at the side of her side of the bed. Her body tensed and Francis gasped, taking her hand, even in his sickened state.

"Come in, baby," Henry whispered, picking up her weak torso and placing it back upon the pillows. She had started crying when the latest bout of vomitting ceased. "it's alright." he stated, brushing kisses into their faces. Catherine came over, placing a cold rag on Francis' brow, before she mopped Mary's face with another.

"She's been doing that for a while." the matriarch stated. "What's wrong with them, Gale?" she asked the white haired female doctor.

"I don't know specifically, Catherine. But they're very sick." she came over with a long needle and syringe. "I need you to step away for a moment." the parents did. Francis gasped when he saw the needle. Now it was Mary to calm him with a touch of a hand. She took her blood test easier than Francis did.

"You may come over now." Gale stated, waving the worried parents over. They came quickly, hauling their steps as they saw the children tangled up together, fast asleep.

Henry smiled a little. They looked so, so sick. But for the first time, they looked peaceful.