A/N: Just to be clear, this story will be divided into a few different parts, as it is very long. Hovercrafts and Hobbits will be mentioned, maybe not in this part, but later on. This story is also written a bit different than the last one, as it will focus on a particular character in each chapter instead of all interacting at once.
Also, Phish Tacko beta'd this. Go read her stuff!
Ch. 1
It was in the middle of Anakin's first birthday celebration when Heather Rainey, Mort's mother, noticed that something was off with her son. Aside from being extremely quiet, he was very pale and seemed to be getting cold sweats. But when he didn't touch the birthday cake she'd made for Anakin, Heather was sure that something was wrong.
"Mort? Are you feeling okay?" She asked, watching as Anakin spread his piece of birthday cake all over his high chair. "Usually you love it when I make double chocolate cake."
Mort shrugged and rested his head on his hand. "I'm just not hungry."
Heather knew it had to be more than that. Her instincts were telling her that something was wrong, and her instincts were usually correct.
She reached up and placed the back of her hand against Mort's forehead.
"Hmm, you're a little warm but not that much. Why don't you go lie down for a while? Rest a bit."
"Nah, I don't want to miss the rest of Anakin's party," Mort said, noticing that his son was now covering his face in chocolate frosting. That kid sure loved to be messy.
"It's just us, and he won't remember it anyway," Heather said, picking up a napkin and dabbing at Anakin's face. The little boy tried to bat her hand away, but eventually gave up. "I'll play with him for a bit too. We'll have fun. Right, Ani?" She asked the one-year-old. He simply reached down, scooped up some frosting with his fingers, and wiped it on her arm.
"I think that means yes," She said, laughing.
Mort sighed. "Yeah, okay. I'm really tired." He pushed himself up from the table. "Thanks, mom."
"No problem. I'll be right out here if you need me."
00
Mort slept through the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. Heather let him sleep, thinking he needed his rest. Maybe he could fight off whatever was making him sick if he slept enough.
After a day of playing games with Anakin, Heather put the little boy to bed and was getting ready to go to sleep herself. She was brushing her teeth when she heard Mort's voice.
"Mom…" He called. "Mom… Come here!"
Heather finished brushing her teeth and walked over to Mort's room, wondering what was going on.
She opened the door to find Mort curled up on his bed, writhing in pain.
"Mom, it hurts!" He moaned.
Heather immediately became concerned. Mort was never particularly great at coping with illness, but he usually wasn't this needy either.
She walked over to the bed. "What hurts, honey?"
Mort rested a hand on his lower stomach. "My stomach hurts..."
Upon closer inspection, Heather could see that Mort appeared to be crying. She sat down on the edge of the bed, and Mort immediately crawled over, resting his head on her lap. She began to run her hand through his hair. Heat was radiating off of him and his hair was soaked in sweat. He must've had a high fever.
"Mom, make it stop..." Mort begged.
"Okay, honey, I'll try, but you need to try to calm down, okay? I'm going to go get an icepack to help you cool off."
"It hurts..."Mort groaned as she got up from the bed. "Please make it stop!"
"I'll be right back," She sad. She ran to the kitchen, grabbed an ice pack and ran back to her son's room. He was still crying when she got there.
"Here, honey, I'm going to put this on your head to help the fever," She said, sitting back down on the bed. She sat back against the headboard and pulled Mort closer to her, so he was sitting up with her and resting his head against her chest.
"Shhh," She cooed. "You'll be okay."
Heather pressed the ice pack against Mort's forehead and waited to see if it would help.
For a few minutes, Mort was quiet. Lying in his mother's arms seemed to help him a bit. Then Heather ran her hand over his side. Mort gasped in pain.
"It hurts there," He whispered.
Heather raised an eyebrow. She had an idea what the problem was now.
"Can you lie down so I can see your stomach?" She asked, pushing him up.
"Okay," Mort agreed. Slowly, he moved so he was lying down flat on the bed.
Heather lifted his shirt and began feeling around his stomach. She could see that his stomach looked a little bit swollen, which was odd because his stomach was usually flat. Mort was a tiny guy. She pressed the lower right side of his stomach and he cried out immediately.
"STOP! That hurts!" He hissed.
"Crud... We have to go to the hospital," She said. "Like, now."
"What? Why?!" Mort asked. He was starting to get panicky. Heather could hear it in his voice.
"I think you have appendicitis. Your father had that, too. Had to have his appendix removed. Same symptoms. I'll get Anakin and we'll go."
Mort looked terrified. "Appendicitis? Am... am I going to be okay?"
"Yes," Heather said, nodding her head. "But we really have to leave now."
00
It only took Heather ten minutes to get Anakin and Mort into the car and to drive to the hospital. Thankfully, it was only a couple of miles away.
The car ride did nothing but make Mort feel even worse, and the second Heather pulled up in front of the ER, he opened the door and promptly was sick on the curb.
Heather sighed, rubbing her son's back as he got sick. Anakin watched from his car seat.
"Daddy sick?" He asked softly.
"Daddy's not feeling well, so we're going to take him to see a doctor," Heather answered, watching as Mort dry heaved a few times.
"Come on, sweetie, let's go," She said once he seemed to be done. She turned the engine off, and went around to the back, taking Anakin out of the car seat. She then opened the door for Mort. She wrapped one arm around her son's back, carried Anakin in the other, and together the three of them walked in.
There were several people waiting for the ER doctors, and Heather was worried that there'd be a long wait to get Mort in to see someone. That all changed when he began to dry heave again, moaning in agony as he did so. A nurse stepped out immediately, and led him away to another room. Heather and Anakin followed close behind.
The nurse took Mort's vital statistics, and frowned as she saw that he was beginning to cry again.
"Don't worry," She said, patting him on the arm. "We'll take care of you."
"It hurts," He mumbled, reaching for his mother's hand.
Heather took hold of it. "It'll be fine, baby. I promise," She said, kissing the back of his hand.
"Make it stop," He begged again.
Just then, a tall, older doctor walked into the room.
"I'm Doctor Nargiello," He introduced himself. "And I see we have Mort Rainey here?" He looked over the chart that the nurse had left him.
"That is correct," Heather said. "I'm his mother, and this is his son, Anakin."
The doctor raised an eyebrow when he heard Anakin's name, but didn't comment on it.
"So... The nurse said that Mr. Rainey was vomiting, has a fever, and is in severe pain. Can you show me where the pain is?"
Mort raised a shaky hand and placed it on his lower stomach.
The doctor began poking and prodding at him, eliciting several groans from his patient.
"I need to do an ultrasound," He finally announced. "I think it's appendicitis, but I need to confirm it. I'll have a tech come set up in a few moments. For now, I'll need you to change into a hospital gown." The doctor opened a cabinet on the side of the room and pulled a folded up gown out. He handed it to Heather. "I can send a nurse in to help him if he needs it."
"We'll be fine," Heather assured the doctor.
"Alright. I'll be back to help with the ultrasound in a bit."
With that, the doctor left the room.
Once the door was closed, Heather spoke up. "Can you get dressed on your own, Mort?"
"I dunno," Mort whispered. Tears were pouring down his cheeks once again. "It hurts..."
Heather frowned, and wiped away the tears using her thumb. "I'll help you, sweetie." She sat Anakin down on a chair and began helping Mort take off his shirt and pajama pants, leaving him in his boxer shorts. "Here we go," She said, unfolding the blue gown. "Arms out."
Mort didn't move. He was in too much pain to do so. Heather lifted his arms for him and managed to maneuver him into the garment.
"All done," She said, tying the back of it up.
"Mom, please, please make it stop."
"The doctors are going to help you, I promise," She said.
There was then a knock on the door.
"Come in," Heather responded.
A young woman with long, wavy reddish brown hair and glasses walked in. She was wearing pink hospital scrubs and pushing a machine in front of her.
"Hi," She said. "I'm Maryanne. I'll be doing the ultrasound on you. Dr. Nargiello will be in momentarily, but we can get started." The young woman bent down, pulled a blanket out of another cabinet, and placed it over Mort's legs. "I'm going to lift your gown up so that I can get to your stomach, okay?"
The woman had a very kindly tone, and Heather immediately liked her.
"Mort," She said, rubbing his arm. "Listen to the young woman."
Mort just nodded. He was starting to feel nauseated again.
Maryanne lifted his gown, just as she said he would, and began applying the ultrasound gel. Mort winced at how cold it was.
"Daddy ok?" Anakin asked as the girl began using the wand on Mort's stomach.
"Your daddy will be just fine," Maryanne said, studying the images on the screen.
The door opened and the doctor walked in. He took a seat near Maryanne and also looked at the screen.
"Well, it looks like appendicitis," He told them. "We'll prep him for surgery. It looks pretty bad."
Mort whimpered when he heard this. He didn't like the idea of surgery.
"Do I have to?" He asked Heather, giving her puppy dog eyes. "Please don't make me go."
"Honey, you have to go. They need to take your appendix out before..." She trailed off, not wanting to upset her son even more.
"Before what?"
"Well, if they don't take it, out the infection could spill out and you'd be very, very sick."
"Mom, please, isn't there anything else?" He looked over at the doctor, then at Maryanne.
"Mr. Rainey, I promise we'll take good care of you," Maryanne reassured him. "You'll be on the road to recovery in no time."
Mort swallowed and wiped a tear from his face. "If it has to happen... Mom, can you take care of Anakin if I die?"
Heather sighed. "You won't die, I promise."
"But if I do, please take care of him."
"I promise that if for some reason you died, I would take care of your son."
"This is a routine surgery, Mr. Rainey," Dr. Nargiello said. "We've never had a fatality if we get to the organ in time."
"Okay. Okay," Mort said, taking a deep breath. He winced as even breathing too deeply hurt. He looked at Anakin. "I love you, son."
"Love you too, daddy," Anakin replied.
"Love you, mom."
"Love you too, Mort. You'll be fine."
"I hate to break this up," The doctor cut in. "But we really need to get him in."
"Okay," Heather said, leaning in to give Mort a kiss on the cheek. "We'll see you soon, Mort."
00
As Mort cracked his eyes open after the surgery, the first thing he saw was bright lights all around him.
"Ah, shit, did I have another heart attack?" Mort asked, looking around a bit more. He recognized that he was in a hospital.
"No, you had your appendix removed," came a voice from his left. He turned his head and saw that his mother was sitting there, with Anakin asleep in her arms. "You just woke up from the surgery."
"Oh. Oh... I remember that," Mort said, looking himself over. He lifted his hospital gown to reveal a set of stitches across his lower stomach. "Hurt like a bitch."
"You know, Anakin's right here, so you might want to stop cursing."
"He's sleeping. He can't hear me," Mort replied. "And whatever they have me on feels amazing."
"That'd be the morphine, dear."
"Great. Keep it coming."
Heather rolled her eyes. "Glad you're feeling better. The doctor said he'd be back to check on you soon."
Mort nodded, looking over the IVs in his arms. "Did they say what all these were for?"
"I believe one is saline, one is a morphine drip, and one is an antibiotic."
The door then opened, and Maryanne walked in, once again pushing a cart. "Hello Mr. Rainey!"
"Um... Hi," Mort replied. As he'd been in a pain filled haze earlier, he hadn't realized how cute this nurse was.
"Do you remember me? My name's Maryanne. I did an ultrasound on you earlier."
"Um... I sort of remember," Mort said. "I was in a lot of pain."
Maryanne nodded. "Understandable. How are you feeling now?"
"Wonderful, actually."
"Good. Well, I came in to bring you something to eat. Nothing fantastic, just some soup and a little bread. You aren't supposed to eat anything besides bland food for a few days." The girl picked up a tray from her cart and set it down in front of Mort.
Mort picked at the food a little. "Thanks. I'll eat it later."
"Come on, Mortybear. Eat some of the soup. You haven't eaten since yesterday." Heather said.
Mort cringed at the usage of his mother's nickname for him, especially since she'd said it in front of an attractive woman.
"Mom! Don't call me that. I'm not five."
Maryanne tried not to laugh as Heather rolled her eyes.
"It's a cute nickname," Maryanne said, trying to make Mort feel better. "At least your mom cares about your health."
"Yeah, whatever. Bad enough that she named me 'Morton'," The writer replied, picking up the spoon. He swallowed a few sips of the soup. "Happy now, mother?"
"That's fine for now."
With all of the conversation in the room, Anakin began to wake up.
"Daddy?" He asked, rubbing his eyes as he squirmed around. "You up?"
"I'm awake, little man," Mort answered.
"Oh. Good," Anakin replied. He still looked very tired.
"He wouldn't go to sleep until he knew you were okay," Heather explained.
"Aw. I'm fine, Anakin," Mort said, trying to reassure his son.
Anakin nodded, and yawned.
"Go back to sleep," Mort told him, watching as his son closed his eyes and snuggled up to Heather once again.
"That your boy?" Maryanne whispered.
"Yep."
"He's adorable. He looks a lot like you... except with lighter hair."
"Mortybear was a towhead when he was little," Heather said, grinning.
"Mom! Enough!" Mort said. "It's bad enough that I had to go through surgery, you don't need to say my nickname in front of the hot nurse. I mean-" He caught himself, realizing what he'd just said. "Just... don't use it in front of others."
Heather laughed. "Okay, whatever you say."
Maryanne smiled and blushed a little. "Well, thanks. I'll, um, be back in a little later. Dr. Nargiello will be in to check on you soon."
Once the young woman was out the door, Heather turned to her son.
"Do you like her?" She asked, noticing that Mort's cheeks were turning red.
"She's pretty, and she seems nice, but I'd have to get to know her."
"You should talk to her! She's sweet. She came in and checked on you three times before you woke up. Wiped up your drool, too. You drool in your sleep. Did you know that?"
Mort's jaw dropped. "It's the braces. They... Ugh, she cleaned up my drool?! Fuck, mom, you could've done something about that before she came in."
Heather shrugged. "It's her job, honey."
Mort shook his head. "I swear, Mom, if you weren't my mother, and I didn't love you, and you weren't holding my son right now..."
"You'd what?"
Mort sighed, knowing his threat was a lie. "Just... no more of that 'Mortybear' crap in front of her. Or anyone. Ever."
"No promises, but I'll try."