Dib's head sunk down to his chest. Finally, a moment of peace. For the last six hours, nurses had been filing in and out of his room, at least two in the room at a time, all jittery and nervous around him. It was now 7 in the morning, and starting to get light out. Not a nurse, doctor or intern had been in his room for nearly two and a half hours, and he was finally enjoying the peace and quiet. Which is why when the door opened to another noisy, white-clad hospital official, he nearly screamed. But this was different. She wasn't holding an official-looking clip board, or another syringe. God, his arm hurt. No, this nurse, or intern, or whatever, was wheeling in a girl.
The boy looked up from his half-drugged state enough to see that she looked tired, possibly up for longer than he himself had been. The lap of her hospital gown was stained rust-red, with a fine cascade of the color running down her torso. Half-asleep, she wiped her mouth. She'd been vomiting blood, he concluded. He saw that her condition was not improving. It wasn't even an hour ago, his dry heaves had ceased, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, but even before then he hadn't felt half as bad as this kid looked.
The nurse helped the young girl into the hospital bed and hooked her up to a heart monitor, and later, and Intravenous Line. The liquid reflected the only light in the room onto the girl's face, making her seem even paler than before.
Dib halfheartedly sat as the nurse closed the door behind her. He knew, he was in no condition to be sitting or talking to this kid, who may not even be able to talk at the moment, but he'd give it a shot.
He decided to start off casual. "Hey, you okay? When was the last time you threw up?"
She didn't acknowledge him for a moment, making him think she was simply ignoring him. Soon thereafter, she tilted her head towards him and opened her eyes. She hadn't yet received the blood transfusion, and had barely enough energy to open her eyes halfway.
Her mouth opened and her lips formed words, sound failed to come out. "2o" she mouthed. Dib figured that her throat was raw from the vomiting, and it hurt her to talk. 2o minutes. Okay. "There shouldn't be any more of that." He reassured her. God, this kid was so sick; he didn't want to pry, but…
"I'm Dib." He smiled sympathetically, knowing what this girl had gone through.
"Tirra." Her voice came out scratchy, as if over a radio with a bad transmission. She couldn't have been more than ten.
"Hey, you're gonna feel better soon, okay? I've got the same bug, and I'm fine."
That was an outright lie. Dib felt like crap. The only thing keeping him from completely crashing at the moment was the adrenaline pump they'd given him earlier, and it was beginning to wear off.
Truth was, he wasn't sure if the endless waves of doctors and nurses could fix either of them. This… THING… was in the atmosphere, in the water supply… how could they possibly fight that? How could they possibly fight something they knew nothing about, something that was spreading so quickly, with no research being done?
But he was right to call it a bug. A bug, just like every other living thing he'd seen come from that filthy rock called Irk. A disease much like the common cold… to the Irkens. Here on Earth, the disease caused hundreds of thousands of deaths already, each previously accompanied by a cornucopia of gut-wrenching side effects. Vomiting half your body's blood supply was only one of the many horrific symptoms.
The antibody that the doctors had been pumping into him in hopes of keeping the disease at bay were of no help. Besides, Dib had been flushing his system out with water for the past twenty four hours. The doctors advised against it, but he'd have none of it. Water was what was keeping him alive, not the antibody.
He brought his hand out from under the covers of the hospital bed, reaching over and handing a bottle to Tirra, his weak grip barely supporting the weight of the object. "Drink it, you'll feel better." He advised.
She looked at it for a moment as if the contents of the bottle were something other than water, which, for all she knew, they very well could have been. With a doubtful yet desperate glance over at the boy in the wire framed glasses, she put the bottle to her lips and drank deeply.
He was rather surprised to see the tiny girl down the entire bottle at once, but supposed she was dehydrated after the night's events. She did lose half her fluids.
He hoped that he'd be able to get enough water to help her flush the bug out of her system. He'd been at it since he first noticed symptoms of having come down with something. Of course, at the time, he didn't know that it was an alien virus, but it seemed to keep the worst at bay.
More doctors swarmed into the room, now concentrating on Tirra. He heard her ask if she could have more water. That a girl. He smiled internally. One doctor, as he was pumping a clear fluid into the ten year old's arm, denied her water, saying it would only flush out the medicine.
Screw the medicine! He felt like shouting. Even in the time of evident proof that he was right, no one listened to him! Like the doctors knew anything about the hundreds of patients that were being admitted into the hospital every night. Like they knew what the disease was, and how to treat it. Granted, Dib didn't know much about it, either. But he didn't pretend to , like these egomaniacal jerks. At least he'd found a way to subdue the disease, at least for a little while. Perhaps enough time to help Tirra.
But no. They wouldn't hear it. They wanted it their way, the way without water to flush the Irken bug out.
They wanted to be right; they wanted to seem like the entire situation was under control, and that people weren't dying by the thousands each day from this pandemic.
They wanted to deny that anything unusual was happening.
They wanted to see Tirra die.
Just a one shot that I turned out, thought it was better than most of the crap I'd been writing lately. I might turn it into a full fledged multi-chapter fiction, but only if you guys want it to be. Review, please!