Sick Days

Rising Fever

I open my eyes when the door slams and Soda walks in with Steve and Two-Bit trailing behind him.

He frowns when he sees me and asks, "What's going on Pony? You look terrible."

"'M sick," I slur, sounding like I'm drunk.

"Oh, Pony," he says, sitting down on the couch and leaning over to feel my forehead.

His frown deepens when he pulls his hand away, and he gets up to go into the kitchen.

I hear him talking with Darry, and then both of them come out. Darry goes into the bathroom while Soda sits next to me on the couch.

Darry comes back out of bathroom holding the thermometer in his hand. Reluctantly, I open my mouth and he sets it under my tongue.

When the thermometers beeps, Darry pulls it out and says, "102.4." 

My mouth feels dry and I ask, "Could I please have some water?"

Soda says, "Sure, kiddo," before getting off the couch and heading into the kitchen.

When he brings the water out, I notice he has a few aspirin in his hand. "For the headache," he says as he hands me the glass.

Gladly, I take the three aspirin and swallow them with a swig of water.

I lay back and close my eyes. Darry pats my shoulder and then says, "Let's go to your room, Pony."

I groan but sit up knowing I don't have a choice. He grabs one arm to steady me and we walk to my room.

He opens the door and I flop onto the bed before getting under the covers. He closes the blinds and says, "Get some rest, kiddo. I'll check on you in a little bit."

I nod before closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep.

***

Darry's POV

When I come out of Pony's room, I shut the door behind me and let out a sigh. This is going to be a long week, I think.

I go sit in my chair and begin reading the newspaper. 

***

Fifteen minutes pass before I hear the bedroom door open and then footsteps are pounding down the hallway.

The bathroom door slams shut and then there's the faint sound of retching.

I look across the room at Soda and we make eye contact before getting up and heading to the bathroom. 

As we approach the door, there's loud sobbing. 

Soda pounds on the door three times and says, "Pony, can you let us in?"

The sobbing subsides for a quick moment and Pony weakly says, "No, I don't want you to see."

"Pony..." 

I hear him sigh and then the door opens. I balk at my brother's appearance, as he looks ten times worse than he did fifteen minutes ago. 

He's awfully pale, and he's shaking insanely. His hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead and he looks exhausted.

"Oh, Pone," I say, before sitting on the floor next to him. 

He leans against my shoulder and says, "Make it go away, Darry. It hurts so bad."

Hearing my brother sound like a five year old makes me want to cry. I say, "I know, kiddo. I know."

He begins crying again and I hold him as Soda gets a washcloth and wets it before using it to wipe off his forehead.

We stay on the floor until I hear soft snoring beside me. I look down and Pony's conked out. Soda says, "We should put him back in the room."

Carefully, I pick him up and carry him back to his room. I lay him on the bed and give him once last glance before heading back out into the living room. Poor baby, I think as I sit down and open my paper again.

***

Pony's POV

When I wake up again, I'm shivering and my teeth are chattering. I wrap the blanket around my body and press my head against the pillow. 

A moment later, a heat wave passes over me and I throw off the covers before laying back down and curling into myself.

Suddenly, I get cold again so I wrap the blankets tight around myself again.

The cycle repeats itself several more times and then an unbelievably hot sensation comes over my body.

I begin whimpering and writhing in the bed. 

I want this feeling to go away. Please, make it go away.

When it doesn't subside after a few moments I call out for Darry.

He comes rushing into the room and pales when he sees the state I'm in.

He yells, "Soda, bring me the thermometer!"

Not even a moment later, Soda comes running into the room and hands Darry the thermometer.

"Open, kiddo," he says. He takes my temperature.

He swears under his breath as he reads what it says.

He demands Soda, "Go start filling up the bathtub with cold water."

He hesitates for a moment but then as he realizes the severity of the situation, he runs down the hallway.

A few minutes pass and suddenly I begin convulsing. Darry says, "Shit. That tub better be full," and then my vision goes away.