Little Kurt had never been a fan of medicine. He hated the stickiness, he hated the flavor, and the kids' kind his mom gave him never helped very much. Mostly it just succeeded in making him sleepy. Elizabeth, his mother, was more than aware of this, and so dreaded her child getting sick more than just for his general well being – She knew full well that when he got sick, there would be a fight over his taking of the medicine. His father had died when he was only an infant, so she was left trying to persuade him to do things on her own.
And so, when Elizabeth sat listening to her son's wheezing and hacking, her forehead wrinkling on concern for the small boy, she was hesitant to bring up the issue. "Poor baby…" she soothed, running a hand through the bangs hanging limp over his forehead.
He stared up at her, blue-green eyes hazy with the fog of the ill. "Mommy. I feel yucky." The five year old whimpered, tugging on her arm. "My tummy hurts and my hands are cold and I feel gross." He slumped back onto the couch, dejected.
"Sweetie, Mommy is doing her best to make you feel better, but you really need to take some medicine to help make you stop wheezing." Elizabeth said carefully, inwardly bracing herself for the argument that was sure to follow.
"No!" Kurt suddenly came to life a bit more as he scooted to the opposite end of the couch. "No, mommy. I'm okay." He tried to put on a brave face now, attempting to prove to his mother that he didn't need to take the awful grape-flavored medicine he could see what sitting on the coffee table. He was just fine, thank you very much.
"Honey…" Elizabeth began, but the doorbell interrupted. Sighing, she got off the couch and moved off towards the front door. "Stay right here, okay? Mommy will be right back."
Kurt curled in on himself, sticking his thumb into his mouth stubbornly and staring down at the weaves of the couch fabric and listening to the television that was softly humming in the background. His mom wouldn't force him to take the medicine, he knew. Quietly, he sang the words to the theme song of one of his favorite shows as he waited for his mother to return.
"Are you okay?" a curly head popped over the top of the couch, startling Kurt from his daydreaming. "Oops – sorry." The other boy grinned a toothy smile at him as Kurt yanked his finger out of his mouth.
"Blaine." Kurt grumbled when he'd recovered himself. "What are you doing here?" He slid off the couch and onto the small red beanbag on the floor, trying to escape the bundle of energy that was his easily excitable best friend.
"Ummm. My mom was bringing soup for you, since your mom said you were sick." Blaine said, and then his eyes widened as he remembered why he was there. "Oh! I forgot you were sick!" he practically shouted in realization, but then lowered his voice to a near whisper when Kurt cast him a frosty-eyed glare. "Sorry. Are you okay…?" he asked.
Kurt sniffled "Well…" he gestured to the piles of tissues at the foot of the couch. "Not really." He sunk into the beanbag, letting the sides come up around him, and pulled a blanket from the floor to cover his little legs. He sighed quietly as the warm cotton came into contact with his feverish skin. "I'm going to make you sick, Blaine. Go away."
"Nope." Blaine climbed onto the couch, curls bouncing as he settled. "I'm gonna stay right here. My mom told me to come say hi to you while she talks to your mom. So that's what I'm doin'." He kicked his legs a little, grinning at Kurt. Just then, the two mothers walked into the kitchen, Elizabeth hurrying over to her son to place a gentle hand to his forehead. She clucked her tongue at what she felt.
"Kurt, baby, you really need to take some medicine." She repeated, sighing again as he shook his head frantically and flipped onto his stomach, burying his face in the coarse fabric of the bean bag. Elizabeth looked back at Marie, Blaine's mother, and rolled her eyes, her expression clearly statingboys before she turned back to her son. She patted him on the head, and he swatted at her.
"Mommy!" he turned his head slightly to pout at her.
Elizabeth stood up again and walked to where Marie was standing at the kitchen counter, the latter apparently torn between amusement at her friend's plight and concern over the sick child. The two resumed their previous conversation, Elizabeth obviously hoping Kurt would decide to come around and take his medicine on his own at some point.
Blaine crept over to where Kurt was still laying facedown on the bean bag. "Kurt…?" he asked hesitantly, poking his shoulder. "I know. Medicine is yucky. I get it."
"I know. Blaine. Please don't touch me." Kurt rebuked him, rolling onto his back once more and raising an eyebrow, almost challenging him to try it again.
Blaine rose to the challenge beautifully. He never could turn down a dare, so he sneakily ducked down onto the floor next to the bean bag, peering over the edge of it at his friend, much like a cat about to pounce on a particularly tasty looking spider would do.
"Blaine. Really-" Kurt began, but was cut off by another round of coughing. Blaine straightened, staring at his friend in concern.
In that moment, Blaine turned traitor. "Kurt, maybe you should just take the medicine. You sound really sick." He said, picking at the carpet with his small hands. A pillow hit him in the side of the head. "Hey!"
"Blaine. You're supposed to be on my side, not on my mom's side." Kurt glared at his friend, but then sighed upon seeing the kicked-puppy expression that had taken over his face. It was impossible to be mad at Blaine. "Maybe…" He began cautiously, and was startled when Blaine leapt up from his place on the ground, dashing over to the two adults.
"Mom! Kurt's mommy!" he tugged on the end of his mother's dress frantically. "Kurt will take his medicine now!" he said, obviously proud of his accomplishment.
Elizabeth raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really?" she asked, turning to her son, who had once again buried his face in the bean bag, somewhat embarrassed by his friend's antics. An indecipherable mumble emitted from the small boy in reply to his mother's question, and she moved closer to him, picking up the medicine as she walked. "Honey, are you ready to take your medicine now?" she asked, carefully moving the blanket off his legs and flipping him over. Blue-green eyes stared warily back at her as she searched his face.
Kurt reluctantly sat up and opened his mouth. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he braced himself for the riot of unpleasant flavor his taste buds were about to experience. Elizabeth, needing no further encouragement, quickly poured the medicine into her son's mouth, cheering inwardly as he swallowed but then wincing as he coughed and sputtered from the taste of the thick liquid. "Mommy, water." He mumbled, looking up at her with slightly glassy eyes. She hurried off to find him a cup, placing it gently in his grasping hands.
"Here, baby." She soothed.
"Thank you Momma," Kurt mumbled again, gulping down the water and then curling up onto his side and closing his eyes. "I'm tired, so I'm gonna sleep now." He murmured, snuggling into the fabric of the bean bag. He raised a sleepy hand and wiggled his fingers in Blaine's direction. "Bye bye Blaine." A pause. "And thank you, I think." And he immediately fell asleep.
Blaine grinned to himself slightly, happy he'd helped his friend. His mother took his hand and tugged him towards the front door "Elizabeth, we'll talk tomorrow, okay? Hope Kurt feels better soon!" she said on her way out.
Elizabeth laughed softly to herself, looking down at her now peacefully sleeping son.