A/N: More Puckleberry family loving! As usual, nothing belongs to me and reviews are love!
"Mooooooommmmmmmyyyyy!"
David's sad little voice pierced Rachel's heart as she hurried up the stairs from the kitchen, balancing a pitcher of cool water in one hand and a plate of saltines in the other. "I'm coming baby!"
Using her hip to bump the door open, Rachel stepped into her son's dark room. Her son was curled up in a ball in his pajamas, caught in the grip of a nasty stomach flu that Rachel was sure he had contracted from that little Adler girl at his play group. Refilling the glass of water on the bedside table, she turned on the bedside lamp and sat down on David's bed.
"How are you feeling baby?"
David moaned again and curled up against Rachel's lap. "My tummy feels icky."
"I know honey" Rachel cooed quietly, smoothing her palm over her son's damp forehead. "Mommy's trying to make you feel better."
"Rachel?" A voice came drifting across the hall. "I need you. Like, right now."
"Have I told you that you're my favorite patient in this house, David?" Rachel leaned over and kissed her son's forehead before getting up and heading across the hallway.
"Raaaayychel" Puck whined pathetically as he pushed the sheet off himself and threw his arm over his face. "I'm hot baby."
Rachel ticked an eyebrow up at the half-dressed man sprawled across their bed. "Nice to see that you're not too sick to be full of yourself."
Puck attempted to sit up and smirk at his wife, but only managed to prop himself up on one elbow before his stomach rolled violently and he had to flop backwards onto his pillow again. "Not what I meant babe. My head is pounding and I can't move without getting nauseous."
"You're laying on our bed in your underwear on a Saturday morning. How is this different than any other weekend?"
"Babe, you're my wife. You're supposed to take care of me. I know we're Jewish and all, but I'm pretty sure that the vows still apply. In sickness and health and all that other crap."
"And I'm pretty sure there was no point in our wedding when Rabbi Greenberg asked me to vow to take care of you when you were hung over."
"Pretty please Rach?" Puck stuck out his lower lip and tried to look as pathetic as possible.
Rolling her eyes, Rachel headed toward the door. "Let me know when you're ready to take your turn watching David. I've been up since you got home at 3 AM and could really use a nap."
When Puck woke up an hour later, there was a bottle of Gatorade and 2 aspirin sitting on top of a pink Post-It note. And when Rachel came down with David's stomach flu several days later, she made sure to keep yelling for Puck at every opportunity. Whenever he tried to complain that she was being too demanding, Rachel would point silently to the words scrawled she had attached the Post-It on the headboard.
You took the vows too. Sucker.