Santa Monica, California 2245
Christopher Pike had just turned his bedside lamp off and settled down into bed, when the first cry ripped through the quite house. He quickly threw the blankets off and sat up, alert and ready. A few seconds after the first cry rang out, another followed in pursuit. Quickly jumping out of bed, he ran out of his bedroom and down the hall.
Pushing the door open, he turned the lights on and the sight before him automatically alarmed him. Sitting up in the middle of her bed, was his four-year-old. She looked to him and reached her arms up and out to him. Moving towards the bed, he saw that she had thrown up on her comforter and jammies.
"Oh baby, what happened?" he asked, reaching out to feel her forehead.
She was burning up and trembling. "Hurts.." she wailed, clutching her tummy.
Before he could move her, Andrea threw up again. She cried harder at the sight and the feeling of her dinner appearing on her blankets. Christopher quickly picked her up and carried her out into the bathroom. Setting her down on the floor, he lifted the lid and seat of the toilet up.
"If you feel like you have to throw up, you do it in here. Daddy's gonna give you a bath and we're gonna clean you up," he said, before reaching into the shower.
Andrea stood rooted to the spot, sniffling and crying, as Christopher turned the water on. She threw up twice more, before he had her undressed in in the warm water. He washed the remains of her food that got into her hair and used the washcloth to wipe her down. Pulling the plug out of the drain, he picked her up out of the tub and wrapped a fluffy towel around her.
"Do you need to throw up again?" he asked.
Andrea shook her head and Christopher picked her up and carried her back into the bedroom. He removed the soiled blankets and sheets and put them out in the hallway. Putting her into a clean pair of jammies, he put clean sheets down and took an extra quilt out of the hall closet. He took the empty garbage can from the bathroom and put it by her bed, just in case. Picking her up, he placed her back into bed and put his hand on her forehead. She was still warm to the touch and he didn't like that.
"Daddy.. I'm scared, " she whimpered.
"It's alright, Honey Bee. You're gonna be fine," he told her, trying to sooth her fears and pain.
"Daddy's gonna get some medicine for your belly. And then you're gonna try to get some sleep," he said.
Andrea nodded and watched as he walked back out into the hallway. Christopher knew he had a set of hyposprays in the medicine cabinet for stomach bugs. Dr. Puri suggested on having a handful of them nearby, since kids caught all kinds of bugs. He grabbed one and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Moving back down the hallway, he stepped back into her bedroom.
"Alright, I'm gonna give you this. And you'll feel a lot better, "he said, before injecting the medicine into the little girl.
Andrea moaned in discomfort, "Hurt."
Christopher set the water on the little night table and pulled the clean quilt up.
"Now, if you feel like you need to throw up again, I want you to lean over and try to get it into the pail. Here's water to rinse your mouth out. I'll be down the hall, " he said.
Andrea nodded and laid back against the pillows, "Ohh-tayy, Daddy," she yawned, as her eyes began to drift shut.
Giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, Christopher went to the door and turned the lights off. The nightlight flickered on and he shut the door halfway, and picked up the dirty sheets from the floor. He retrieved Andrea's jammies and threw them and the blankets into the washer, before going back into the bathroom to clean up. It was only 8:30, which was considered an early night for the two. But after a long day at the beach and an early dinner, both father and daughter were extremely exhausted.
Once the bathroom was cleaned, Christopher turned the lights off and went back into his bedroom, throwing himself down onto his bed. It felt like only seconds had gone by, when he was ripped from a deep sleep as Andrea screamed from her bedroom again. Waking with a jolt, Christopher looked around in the darkness, before settling on the clock near his bed. Squinting, he saw that it was 11:30.
"DADDY!" Andrea screamed.
Christopher got up and stumbled out of his bedroom and down the hall to her room again. It took another bath, a new set of jammies and a second change of the bed, before Andrea felt that she didn't need to throw up again.
"You sure?" he asked, as Andrea's head hovered over the pail.
She nodded, "No more yucky.." she said, as he started to move the pail away from her.
But just as he moved it away from her face, her little hands reached out and grabbed it. She almost missed the pail as she threw up again, and Christopher was glad that she made it into the pail and not on the bed. He wasn't sure how many more sheets he would need to throw in the washer, before she stopped.
By 3:30, Andrea was asleep in her bed, blankets covering only half of her body. The garbage pail had been washed out and placed near the bed again, just in case. Christopher pulled a chair from the kitchen into her room, and placed it near her bed. He had a pillow and the throw blanket from the couch and sat there, waiting for her to wake up again. And he sat and waited, watching as her chest rose and fell with each breath. He waited for the moment when she would wake up and throw up again. It was an awful feeling, watching your baby get sick and having no control over it.
He didn't remember falling asleep, until he heard the sounds of cars starting and people moving outside to start the new day. Blinking, he looked down at his watch and saw that it was 6:30 in the morning. The sun was rising and he could hear his neighbors leaving for work, starting the day off. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and stretched his aching body, and looked over at the bed. Andrea was laying on her back with her arms behind her head and her ankles cross together. Christopher smiled at the sight, since he too, slept like that on most nights. The quilt and sheets laid all bunched up at the end of the bed.
Standing up slowly and quietly as possible, hissing at the slight pain in his back and neck, Christopher pulled the sheets and quilt up. Andrea didn't move a muscle, as the heavy material was placed on her body. Lightly touching her forehead, he was relieved to find that her fever had gone down. He watched her for a few more minutes, before deciding that she would be alright. Making his way out of the room, he closed the door halfway, and quietly went to his own bedroom. He figured it would be another four and a half hours before Andrea woke up again.
Christopher literally stumbled back into bed, too exhausted to pull the sheets up over him. Once he was settled, he silently hoped that he could get a couple hours of sleep and a surprise vomit-fest wouldn't take place again. A few seconds later, he was fast asleep after a very long night.
