Story title: Responsibility

Author: Emilie (AKA EmmyH)

Disclaimer: They're not mine. :(

Further disclaimer: I don't have epilepsy. Nobody in my family has epilepsy. None of my friends, acquaintances, or enemies have epilepsy. I got all my info from the wonderful world wide web (ooh, alliteration!) and from my own twisted mind. Sorry if I screwed up.

Warning: ...Wow, I guess I really hate Rodney's parents! They aren't exactly abusive in this story, but they're pretty mean.

The first time it ever happened, Rodney was babysitting Jeannie. "She's your responsibility," his parents had said, and then left. He'd been forcing her to do her math homework—after all, the three times table was hardly sophisticated math, but they were part of a basic grounding in the field, and who cared if Rodney was showing her a little pre-algebra on the side? when Jeannie said, "Rodney?

"Yeah?"

"I feel weird."

"Hah!" he'd said, "you aren't getting out of this that easily."

"No, really," she said. "I—"

And then she'd fallen over, and she shook, her body rigid. Rodney had panicked, unable to move for a few seconds, then he rushed over to Jeannie. It was a seizure, he could tell, although he'd never seen one before.

He dithered over her for a while—he never remembered, after, how long it was—and then he ran to the phone and dialed 911.

"Emergency services," a voice had told him calmly, "please state your emergency."

"My sister's having a seizure!" he'd blurted. "I don't know what to do!"

They'd calmly asked him what his name was, how old he was, where he lived, what his sister's name was, where his parents were. Maybe a few other things, he couldn't remember. Then they told him to put her in the recovery position ("How?") and to reassure her when it was over. Paramedics would be there soon.

It had taken fifteen minutes for the paramedics to arrive, during which time Jeannie's seizure had stopped, she'd vomited, cried, and gone to sleep on the kitchen floor, where she'd fallen. The paramedics arrived then, and took charge, which Rodney was happy to let them do.

"Where are your parents?" the tall one had asked him.

"I dunno," he said. "Some restaurant. They never tell because they don't want me to bug them."

The tall guy frowned disapprovingly. "I think we're gonna bring you to the hospital with us, okay?"

Rodney nodded. He had to go with Jeannie, anyway. She was his responsibility.

The nurses didn't want to let him sit with her in the emergency room, but Jeannie chose just then to wake up, and she'd cry if Rodney wasn't with her—and besides, they didn't know what to do with Rodney, either. The hospital was boring and scary, people bustling all over, and Rodney saw a lot more blood than he would have liked, but it wasn't that bad until his parents arrived.

They screamed. You were responsible, how could you have let this happen to her? and See if we ever let you out of your room ever again, young man and I wouldn't be surprised if Jeannie hated you after this stunt, Rodney how could you your own little sister. He covered his ears, trying to hold tears back, but they pulled his arms away and kept shouting. Then the nurses joined in, shouting at his parents, and his parents kept shouting at him, and then the doctors started shouting at the nurses, and then, after an eternity, Rodney's aunt, his mom's big sister, came and yelled at everyone (except him, that was nice) and took Rodney by the hand and said, Come on, Roddie. Let's get away from this stupid place. Jeannie will be fine.

And he'd stayed at his aunt's house for a whole week, and everyone at home had smiled when he got back, even Jeannie, who didn't hate him after all, and she'd been practicing her pre-algebra while he'd been gone, see, Rodney? Look how good I did!

But Rodney couldn't give her a genuine smile. He'd pasted one on, trying to look interested, and later that night he'd pulled the heavy encyclopedia down from the shelf and studied epilepsy, and the next day he went to the library and studied it more, because he was never going to let that happen to his sister again. She was his responsibility.

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