About a year ago, I had a really dumb idea of Derek and Tyler as kids... you can see what it lead to. Sometimes I almost wish I was still a kid so I could get away with more dumb stuff than I do now.
Title Booboo
Summary When Derek's knee needs fixing, who's going to help him? Doctor Chase to the rescue!
Rating G
Warning(s) Really dumb kid fluff, Derek being cute and wibbly, weirdness.
Disclaimer Not mine.
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It was red and covered with some white and brown stuff, a poke indicated it was sticky, and Derek deduced that this new stingy thing on his knee was like a candy apple, only candy apples didn't make him want to wail when he poked one (candy apples were nice and sweet and tasty, and he might have been a very inquisitive six-year-old, but his mommy had taught him better than to eat weird stuff -- especially if it came from his body! how weird would that be?), and Tyler was plopped down on the grass in front of Derek, staring at the new red thing curiously -- had to be a booboo, judging from how Derek had yelped when he'd fallen. "Does it hurt?" he asked, dirt in his blond hair and in little patches on his arms and legs; Derek sniffed, nodding. "Do you need a band-aid?" Another nod, and Tyler stood, extending a hand -- Derek took it cautiously, and Tyler took off, running perhaps a bit slower so Derek could keep pace with him -- a nice change, 'cause Tyler was kinda like a bus, a small little bus, what with his yellow hair and fast movements, which was pretty silly to Derek.
Tyler's mom, she was really nice; she liked having Derek over -- "maybe you can teach Tyler to be a good little boy!" -- and she smiled when the two boys appeared on her doorstep, covered with dirt and mud and grass stains from their day-long excursion at the park. "Hi, boys! How was the park?"
"It was cool," Tyler answered, dragging Derek inside, making a beeline for the bathroom---
"Everything okay?" she asked, closing the front door and watching as Tyler ushered the younger boy inside the bathroom. Tyler looked back at her and nodded rapidly with wide eyes -- his father must have been teaching him how to try and look innocent! -- "All right, I'll be in the kitchen... just tell me if you need anything!" He nodded again and disappeared inside, and she shook her head.
"Band-aids make everything better," Tyler declared, pointing at Derek and then at the sink's counter-top. "Sit down! We need to clean this! Or else it might get all infected."
"Infected?" Derek asked, eyes widening in wonder behind his glasses as he hopped backwards onto the counter, swinging the leg that hadn't been scraped as he watched Tyler rummaging through the cabinets, pulling out a plethora of things -- making more of a mess than getting necessary things. "What's infected?" 'Cause Tyler knew everything, or at least, he knew a lot more than Derek, and 'infected' was definitely one of the things.
"When your booboo gets all gross an' icky," Tyler responded, fetching a washcloth and dampening it, "an' you have to get that place cut off so you don't die." He pressed the washcloth to Derek's knee, pouting when Derek jumped. "You gotta hold still. Or else I can't clean it an' it'll get infected."
"But it hurts!"
"It'll hurt worse when they cut it off!" Derek promptly shut up, biting his lip and the insides of his cheeks while Tyler wiped over the area repeatedly, looking distastefully at all of the stuff that kept coming off onto it -- black stuff and white stuff and brown stuff---
"Boys, what are you doing in there?" The knocks made Tyler jump and Derek squeak as the scrape was probed by the washcloth unforgivingly. Tyler threw the rag into the sink and ran to the door, opening it just barely, enough so that he could see his mother peering down at him through the crack.
"Derek's got a booboo," Tyler said, pushing against the door to keep it only barely open when his mom pressed against it. "I'm takin' care of him, mommy! I don't need help."
"Sweetie, I really think I should---"
"No!" Tyler pressed the door closed and locked it. "I gotta take care of him, mommy. His leg deps... depins... dep... his leg's countin' on me!" He rushed back over to Derek, ignoring his mom's chuckles from behind the door, and rinsed the washcloth before going about cleaning the scrape again. "Gotta make sure all the dirt's out," he informed Derek very matter-of-factly, "or else that gets inside your blood and makes your skin rot."
Derek shuddered, his mind instantly filling with images of his leg turning brown and black as the dirt on the cloth, before falling to the floor with a great big clunk!, and his lower lip quivered as he watched Tyler move on to a tube. "I-is it all out?"
"Yep!" Tyler cheerfully popped the cap and squeezed a liberal amount of something Derek thought looked rather like what came out of his nose when he had a cold, and spread it against the scrape. "An' this, it's Knee-a-sporn, an' it makes sure that no bacteer-ya or virals get inside you."
"What are those?" Derek watched as Tyler recapped the tube, picking out a still-wrapped band-aid and sizing it up against his knee.
"They're little bugs that get inside you and make you sick." He seemed to decide against the band-aid, tossing it aside and going through the cabinet again, pulling out something that looked like a bigger band-aid, Derek thought. Square. Big. Poofy. Tyler opened it and it turned out to be some kind of white stuff -- square, big, poofy -- and pressed it against Derek's knee with one hand, the other searching out for something, and he gave a hmmph. "Can you hold this?"
He pressed his index fingers against either side of the white stuff, and Tyler picked up a circle of something, which Derek realized was tape once Tyler had pulled one end and pressed it to the side of his knee, stretching it over the white stuff and down to the other side. It wasn't doing a very good job of staying on Derek's leg, though, and Tyler gave another hmmph before taping it down a few more times.
And there -- Derek had a nice white square on his knee, covering up his booboo from bacteer-ya and virals and infections.
Not bothering to clean his mess up, Tyler grabbed Derek's hand again, pulling him out of the bathroom, calling to his mom -- "We're goin' to the park again!" -- and skipped along a few steps ahead of Derek on their walk back to the park, only slowing down when Derek asked him how he knew so much. That was easy -- "'Cause I'm gonna be a doctor some day! I gotta practice!" Derek, maybe he would become a doctor too, 'cause he didn't like the sound of bacteer-ya or virals or infections, and maybe some day he'd be the one mending Tyler's booboos, but for now -- Doctor Chase was just great at tending to Patient Stiles.
