This is set probably about half way into Season One. Just a randow one-shot that came to me one night. Enjoy! Please review!

SICK DAYS

"Hank? I think……….I think I'm sick." Evan sniffed pathetically and shuffled his way into the kitchen area of Boris' guest house. Hank barely glanced up from the paper he was reading and continued to chew slowly on his breakfast cereal. When Hank failed to produce the response Evan had been hoping for, the younger boy drew closer to his older brother.

"Didn't you hear me, Hank? I'm sick." To emphasise his point, he coughed dramatically into his brother's ear. Hank grimaced and swatted his hand around said ear, not tearing his eyes away from the article he had been currently reading. Evan frowned and adopted a new approach to the man's obvious attempt at ignoring him. He walked to the other side of the chair Hank was sitting on and swooned in front of the newspaper, effectively blocking Hank's view. He rested his arm and head on the counter and managed to knock the bowl of cereal, resulting in the milk tipping side to side, dangerously close to spilling.

"Evan! Okay! You have my attention."

Evan smiled and stood upright at once. "Good, cause I have to tell you something very important."

"And what's that?" Hank dropped the paper on the counter and folded his arms across his chest.

"I'm sick."

Hank dropped his hands to his sides and stood up from the breakfast bar stool, shaking his head.

"Go and have a shower and get ready. We have a busy day today."

"I fear you are missing the point."

"Evan."

"Hank?"

"Evan." The word was said with enough warning in the tone that caused the younger boy's resolve to sway slightly. However, being a Lawson meant having enough stubbornness to make a mule envious

"Feel my head."

"What?"

"Feel my head." Evan grabbed his brother's hand and firmly planted it on his forehead. "It's hot right? Like fever hot?"

Hank was about to snatch his hand out of his little brother's grasp when the heat burning into his palm caused his doctor instincts to take over.

"It is a little warm actually."

"See? I told you! I'm sick. Really sick. You're going to have to stay home all day and take care of me."

"Evan, just what are you up to?"

Fearful of his older brother seeing right through his ploy, Evan turned away from the doctor's intense stare and flopped face-down on the couch.

"It just hurts all over and I feel weak and dizzy and hot and nauseous and…."

"Okay, I get it – you're sick."

"Exactly."

Hank sighed and looked at his watch. Whenever either of them was sick they had made a pack long ago that they would cancel their plans and look after each other. It was a tradition they had kept since their dad had walked out on them. Running a hand down his face he made some quick decisions. The man stalked over to the table and rummaged around in his bag for a second before pulling out his mobile and hitting speed-dial.

"Divya? Hey. Sorry for calling you so early, but I have a favour to ask."

"Does it hurt when I do this?" Hank asked and pushed down gently on Evan's stomach with his fingers. Evan was currently lying on the couch with his t-shirt pulled up to his chest.

"Should it?"

"Well if you're sick enough for me to stay home all day and pass my patients to Divya on her day off then yes, I should think it would hurt." Hank pressed once more on the stomach checking for swelling.

"Then owww, yes it hurts. Stop! You malicious man!"

"Evan, what is going on?" He knelt back down on his feet beside the couch and pulled his little brother's oversized football top back down.

"Nothing." Hank rolled his eyes and pulled out a glass thermometer.

"Is that going in my mouth?"

"Not unless you want it somewhere else."

"Funny." Evan stared at his brother's attempt to stifle a chuckle. "You have to leave."

"Why?"

"You know why?"

"No, Ev, I don't. Evidenced by the question which I'll now repeat for your somewhat slow processing mind – why?"

"Cause of my fear."

"What fear?"

"Fear of someone watching me when I put a thermometer in my mouth. I call it thermophobia."

"How are we related, really?"

"I'll do the decent thing. The sick, young man will leave the room just so the much older, healthy doctor is not inconvenienced."

"You're too kind."

"Think nothing of it, brother!" Evan jumped up from the couch, snatched the thermometer from Hank and darted into the kitchen.

Hank watched him go mumbling under his breath about 'insane idiots' and pulled himself up to sit on the leather couch. He reached for the remote and clicked on the TV, switching it from Cartoon Network (Evan, of course) to the news channel. Engrossed in some report about an outbreak of some tropical disease reaching some small village in Finland, Hank never heard Evan's return until his brother stood in front of the television.

"I leave you for two minutes and you can't even spend that time worrying about how sick I am?"

"I was multi-tasking."

"Uh huh. Here, look at my temperature." Evan thrust the thermometer into his brother's face. Hank went cross-eyed trying to read the temperature until he finally managed to grab his brother's wrist and pull it away to a better distance.

"It's high." Hank looked up at Evan's face. "But you look fine."

"My good looks do not succumb to attacks of viruses."

"I want you to go to bed and I'll get you some water."

"Aww, Henry, we don't need to resort to such drastic measures. Can't I just sit up and watch a movie with you? Or we could play cards?"

"I can't! You need rest to fight…..whatever it is that you have….and I need to read over some patients' files. I feel guilty enough as it is not helping Divya out. I can't watch a movie."

"Not even the Terminator movies?"

"No."

"But you promised me two weeks ago we could have a Terminator Day!"

"Evan, we're not thirteen anymore! We have a company to run and responsibilities. We can't just watch Terminator because you want to."

"I feel dizzy. So faint….." Evan collapsed onto the couch once more and laid his head on Hank's shoulder.

"Please, just the first movie. It'll make me feel so much better and then I'll go to bed and you can read some files. Deal?"

"Ev….."

The boy coughed and groaned in response.

"Okay, the first one and then bed!"

"Yes! You totally rule, man!" Evan leaped over the back of the couch and sprinted over to the DVD collection. Boris had made arrangements for them to order any DVDs, books, video games – anything to help Hank settle into his new home and job. Little did he realise that the doctor's younger sibling would take full advantage of his generosity and had practically ordered every movie ever made. He found the Terminator movie and shoved it into the DVD player before Hank could change his mind. He knew if he could get Hank to watch the first one, he could so easily convince him to watch the rest.

Five hours later when all four Terminator movies had finished and both brothers had stopped quoting every one of Arnold's lines and complaining about Christian Bale's attempts to look tough, Hank groaned and pushed himself to his feet.

"Dude, you just made the old man noise." Evan observed.

"Excuse me?"

"When you stood up and made that squawking, cat-like moan? The old man noise. The one you make when you're nearing middle age."

"I am not nearing middle age!" Hank cried indignantly and grabbed the pillow his brother was clutching. "For that I am getting you another bottle of water!"

"Oh no! Please! My kidneys are going on strike. They have never been so overworked in their life. Have mercy!" Hank had made Evan drink enough water to hydrate the Sahara.

Hank laughed and swatted the pillow across the back of his brother's head.

"I'll make us some lunch."

"I'll come watch."

"No way. Bed!" Hank pointed to the bedroom.

"Yeah, absolutely. Just five minutes and then I'm gone."

"I'll make some chicken soup for you. See if it soothes your stomach."

"Whatever you say, doc."

Evan followed Hank through to the kitchen and sat across from the stove in a high stool. Hank pottered around collecting pots and tin openers.

"So what's the deal with you and Jill?"

"What about us?"

"You guys doing it or what?"

"Evan!"

"Come on, bro. Paint me a picture. Doesn't need to be detailed. A watercolour will do."

"I'm not telling you anything."

"That hurts."

"Look, we're good. We're fine. I think. It's just…..complicated right now."

"But you're getting some, right?"

"Would you just shut up?!"

"Touchy. I'm going to take that as a no. Swiftly moving on. I think I need a larger chunk of HankMed income."

"Oh yes, because you are such an asset to the company."

"I'm going to ignore the heavy sarcastic undertones of that sentence and base it on the fact that you're sexually frustrated."

Hank slammed the tin opener down on the counter.

"I do the advertising as well as the company accounts, I order in supplies, I hold company meetings and I boost the teams' morale."

"Morale? What are you talking about?"

"Trust me, you would hate your job by now if I wasn't the little ray of sunshine keeping your spirits up every morning."

"That's not quite how I see it."

Evan held up one finger to silence his brother. "And we need more holidays. All of us. We work around the clock and don't think I didn't see you sneak off last Saturday morning to treat that Tucker dude when I explicitly ordered that weekends were HankMed free."

"First of all I didn't sneak off and secondly…….Soups ready! Maybe this will keep you quiet for a bit."

The two brothers tucked in to two steaming bowls of chicken soup chatting amicably about how different their lives had become since moving to the Hamptons. After lunch, Hank began clearing the bowls when he noticed his little brother making a house of cards on the table.

"What are you doing? Bed!"

"Okay, I'll go if you beat me at a game of gin."

"Ev, no. If you're sick, rest is the best remedy."

"That's sweet." Hank rolled his eyes. "But don't be a chicken."

"I'm not getting sucked into your mind games."

"It's not a mind game. I just know you're too scared to play me because I have an undefeated record."

Hank ground his teeth together and twisted the dish cloth in his hand.

"Evan…."

"Chick-chick-chick-chick chicken, lay a little egg for me." The younger boy sang, shuffling the cards.

"Okay! One game!"

"I believe that is 15 – 6 and you owe me a bag of Mini Oreos." Evan grinned triumphantly. From the distance he could hear his phone screeching out some latest tune, indicating he had received a text.

"I'll be right back."

Hank growled under his breath and started collecting all the cards together. They had played all afternoon and somehow Evan had still well and truly beaten him. He suspected foul play was responsible, but with his little brother he could never seem to prove it.

"Um, Hank." The occupier of his thoughts sheepishly approached him. "I got a text from a close friend. Girl. Friend. Not girlfriend. Well, maybe she will be if I go…..But right now she's just a friend and a girl."

"Spit it out, Evan."

"Well, there is this party. It's like meant to be the biggest party ever."

Hank folded his arms knowing what was coming.

"I have to go."

"Absolutely not. You have a temperature! You're sick."

"But Hank!"

"No way!"

"Look, I have to go."

"You could infect other people, not to mention make yourself worse. You need an early night."

Evan fidgeted with the bottom of his t-shirt and looked down at the ground.

"Don't get mad."

"Why would I get mad?"

"I have to go to this party."

"And I've already told you, you can't go if you're sick."

"I'm not."

"Not going to the party? Good."

"No. I'm not sick."

"What?"

"I faked it."

Hank let out a long sigh, mentally counting to ten inside his head.

"You what?"

"I had to!"

"EVAN RICHARD LAWSON!" Hank exploded.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" The younger boy backed up from his fuming older brother. "It's just we never get to spend any time together anymore. You're always with patients and we never do the stuff we used to do."

"I'm going to kill you! I made Divya work on her day off!"

"At least she gets one! You never have days off and I miss….." Evan caught himself before he said anymore. The anger left Hank almost as quickly as it came. This was so typical of his little brother, thinking of himself and not about the consequences of his actions.

"But wait! How did you fake the thermometer? It was way higher than it should have been."

"Remember in eight grade when I stuck it in the boiling kettle to pretend I was sick and stay off school?"

"Thermophobia." The realisation hit the doctor like a ton of bricks. "That's why you went into the kitchen to take your temperature. What about your forehead? It was hot."

"I put a warm towel against it before I spoke to you this morning."

"Ev, I swear, you try this again……"

"I won't! I'm really sorry! But we had a good day right? We laughed a lot."

Hank thought back to his brother's Arnold Schwarzenegger impressions and the jokes and stories he had told over their card games. It was true, no one could make him laugh like his little brother.

"Yeah we did, but that doesn't excuse your behaviour."

"I know! I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'll give Divya my cut for today!"

Hank nodded in agreement.

"So…..?"

"So?"

"Can I go to the party?"

"Oh……Fine!"

"Yeah, alright! You're the best, bro!" Evan dashed into his room to get ready. As Evan tidied up the living-room, revenge entered his head. His brother thought he could twist him around his little finger. He thought back to the day and realised Evan had conned him into doing exactly what he had wanted. Payback was needed. His brother had to be punished for his lack of responsibility. Checking Evan was still in his room; Hank grabbed a towel out of the cupboard and held it to the kettle as it boiled. Grabbing the thermometer he stuck it into the spout of the kettle until the mercury line started to rise. When he heard Evan's bedroom door close, Hank pressed the towel to his forehead and removed the thermometer.

"That's me ready to go! Bye!"

"Oh, Ev, wait there a second!"

"I have to go now, Hank!"

"One second. I have something to tell you."

"What's that?"

"I'm sick."