Sharon woke at 7:00 on Friday morning, and immediately checked on Rusty. He was sleeping fairly peacefully, so she started the coffee maker and took a shower.. She sat on the couch in her robe, sipping coffee and watching the news, enjoying being at home and not rushing around at this hour. An hour and a half later, it was time to wake Rusty for his appointment. She made pancakes for both of them and carried the plates back to his room.

Rusty woke when he felt Sharon sit on the side of his bed, but his eyes felt too heavy to open just yet. He felt like he had just fallen asleep. "Wake up, honey," He heard her say in her soft, soothing voice as she patted his back. "Come on, honey, you need to eat breakfast so we can go to the doctor. Your appointment is at 9:30."

"Don't need doctor. Just let me sleep."

"Five more minutes," Sharon conceded. But you need to get up when I come back." She went to the kitchen for the thermometer and medicine. When she got back to Rusty's room, she sat on his bed, rubbing his back and watching the clock, until his five minutes were up. Okay, fine, she gave him seven minutes.

"Okay, Rusty, you need to get up now," Sharon said, patting his back. Rusty groaned, but sat up. Sharon placed the back of her hand on his forehead. "You're not feeling any better, are you," she commented when she felt the heat that met her hand. Rusty shook his head. She took his temperature and gave him some Tylenol before retrieving their plates from his dresser. They sat on Rusty's bed and ate in comfortable silence, with Sharon brushing Rusty's hair out of his eyes periodically. God, he was burning up. His temperature had been 103.5.

"We need to leave in twenty minutes," Sharon said, handing Rusty some clean clothes. Rusty nodded and headed for the shower.

Later that morning, Sharon sat with Rusty in Dr. Sheridan's waiting room. When the nurse called his name, she hesitated. Should she go to the exam room with him? She knew he wouldn't have to undress at all or answer any embarrassing questions; this was just a straight-forward sick visit. Her children had always wanted her to go with them, and she felt like she should explain her relationship to Rusty to Dr. Sheridan. She didn't want Rusty to feel like she was babying him, though. She debated for a few moments when Rusty stood up, until he looked at her like he expected her to follow him. Pleased, Sharon got up and walked with him to the waiting nurse.

Dr. Sheridan did a quick exam and diagnosed Rusty with tonsillitis. She prescribed an antibiotic and gave instructions to rest and not to return to school until his temperature had been normal for 24 hours. Sharon thanked her and they left.

After picking up the antibiotic and arriving home, Sharon tucked Rusty into bed. "Are you hungry, or do you want to sleep for a while before lunch?" He had eaten a good breakfast, so she wasn't going to make him eat again just yet if he didn't want to.

"Sleep..." Rusty murmured. Sharon gave him his antibiotic and some Tylenol and sat on his bed, rubbing his back, until he fell asleep. Two hours later, she was working at her desk when she heard Rusty run across the hall and slam the bathroom door. Surely, he wasn't sick to his stomach? Sharon got a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and crept down the hall, listening outside the bathroom door. She heard the unmistakable sound of him getting sick. She knocked on the door.

"Rusty? I'm coming in," she called. Sharon waited a few moments before slowly opening the door. Rusty was on the floor, throwing up into the toilet. "Oh, honey," she said, wetting a wash cloth in the sink.

"Don't worry, Shar-" Rusty gasped between heaves. Sharon kneeled beside him, patting his back and wiping his face as he threw up. He was shaking when he finished. Sharon flushed the toilet and pulled him into her arms. Rusty was a little frightened. As many times as he had had what he now knew was Tonsillitis, he had never thrown up with it before.

"I'm sorry," Rusty murmured as Sharon continued to hold him.

"Rusty. You do not need to apologize. You couldn't help it. Have you ever taken antibiotics before?" Sharon asked, brushing his bangs back from his forehead. Rusty shook his head. "That's probably why you got sick. I should have gotten you to eat something before you took it. I'll call Dr. Sheridan on Monday if this keeps up and taking the medicine with food doesn't help. Let's get you back in bed." Sharon gave Rusty the bottle of water to rinse his mouth out and guided him out of the bathroom.

Rusty's grasp on Sharon tightened. "Can I, um, watch TV in the living room?" He asked shyly.

Sharon recognized his need to be near her, and teared up a little. He hadn't really seemed to need her before now. Of course, he needed the obvious things, like clothes, food, shelter, and school, but he hadn't needed her on a more personal level until now. She didn't realize how much she had missed being needed.

Sharon composed herself. "Of course," she said, turning to go to the living room. "Sit in a chair while I make you some lunch. I'll put some sheets on the couch while you eat." Rusty sat, and Sharon brought him some ginger ale before making him some soup.

After lunch, Sharon sat with Rusty on the couch, watching TV. After tucking a sheet into the couch cushions, she had gotten Rusty's pillow and comforter from his room. While they watched TV, Rusty was shifting closer and closer to Sharon. After a while, Sharon put his pillow in her lap and tapped it gently. "Lie down, honey," she said when she saw the confused look on his face. He gingerly lay down, as if he still wasn't sure it was okay. Sharon straightened his comforter and tucked it around him. Rusty felt stiff and uncomfortable in her lap, so Sharon rubbed his back and ran her fingers through his hair, hoping he would relax. As he slowly became less tense, Sharon held her hand to his forehead, relieved that the Tylenol seemed to be working. Her hand remained on his forehead, fingers lightly stroking his warm skin, until he was asleep.

Rusty slept until almost 5:00 and woke up shivering. Sharon's hand automatically went to his forehead. "You need some more medicine," Sharon said, carefully separating herself from Rusty and standing up. She heated up the last of the chicken casserole from earlier that week while she gave Rusty some Advil, then gave him his antibiotic after he had eaten.

Later that night, Sharon was in bed, almost asleep, when she heard Rusty being sick again. She looked at her clock. Rusty had been asleep for almost two hours. Damn it, Sharon thought. She wasn't annoyed with Rusty at all, she just hated that he was so sick. Throwing up probably made his throat hurt even worse, but he had yet to complain. Sharon got up and went into the bathroom. Her body seemed to be on autopilot. She had a cool cloth in her hand and was patting Rusty's back before she even thought about what she was doing.

"You didn't have to get up, Sharon. I'm sorry I woke you," Rusty said once his stomach had calmed down.

"I wasn't asleep, and I want to take care of you," Sharon said, leading Rusty out of the bathroom. Rusty hesitated in the hallway, looking nervous. "I'm going right back to sleep, Sharon. You don't have to sit with me."

"I know, honey, but I don't want to leave you awake and alone. You're due for some Tylenol, anyway," Sharon said, pressing her hand to his burning forehead. He had fallen asleep before she was able to give him another dose earlier that evening.

"Well, um, I just want to change my sheets really quick. They're sweaty and gross. I'll take some Tylenol before I go to sleep, I promise."

"Oh, I'll do that. Go lie down in my bed."

God, couldn't this woman take a hint?!

"Sharon, stop. My sheets aren't sweaty and gross. They're..vomit-y and gross. I didn't wake up in time, and, well...you know."

Sharon didn't know whether to be amused or sad at how embarrassed Rusty was. It's not like he did it on purpose, and it certainly wouldn't be the first time she had dealt with vomit-y sheets.

"That's not a problem, Rusty. This isn't my first rodeo, I can assure you." Rusty followed Sharon into his room, determined to clean up his own mess. Sharon approached his bed, and, not seeing much of a mess, pulled back the comforter to see if there was more damage.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Rusty, you hardly got any on the sheets at all. They do need to be changed, though. Go get in my bed while I take care of this, and then I'll tell you a story that will make you feel much better about this, I promise."

"Sharo-"

"Now." Rusty knew that tone of voice. He meekly turned around and headed for Sharon's room. Sharon took him a glass of ginger ale before putting fresh sheets on his bed. She inspected the comforter, but it was still clean. She tucked Rusty back into his bed and gave him some Tylenol PM.

"All right, what's this story?"

Sharon smiled. The story was actually pretty funny, but it wasn't so funny when it happened. She climbed in bed beside Rusty and placed his head against her shoulder, stroking his hair as she spoke.

"One time, when Ricky was sick, he woke up one night and couldn't go back to sleep, so he came and got in bed with me. He woke up in the midst of throwing up, and it was pointless to run to the bathroom at that point. I somehow slept through all of that, and he didn't bother to wake me. I found out about it the next morning, when I rolled over and got it all. Over. Me. Ricky was still sleeping, like he didn't have a care in the world. I. Was. Livid."

"You can't blame a kid for that, though."

"You're right. 17 year olds, on the other hand, I hold to slightly higher standards."

"What?!"

"True story. I know he didn't mean to throw up in my bed, and I didn't mind cleaning it. He was sick and couldn't help it. But he could have at least warned me!"

"Yeah, I'll give you that. If I ever throw up all over your bed, I promise I'll wake you up."

"That's all I ask."

Rusty felt considerably better by Sunday, and was able to return to school on Monday. His body had adjusted to the antibiotics, so getting sick to his stomach was no longer a problem. On the way to school Monday morning, Sharon gave him his doctor's excuse for his absences. "Rusty. If you ever feel sick at school, please go to the infirmary. I promise, it's not a problem for me to come pick you up. Are we clear?" Rusty nodded, as Sharon pulled into the school. "Bye, honey. Have a good day."

"Bye, Sharon. And...Thanks," Rusty said sheepishly, as he picked up his book bag and got out of the car.