A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! You guys are awesome!

Chapter Eleven: Get It Right

Keith was exhausted. It was one in the afternoon and even though he had managed to get a few more hours of sleep than he normally did, he could barley keep his eyes open. It worried him a little as he normally didn't feel so tired right after he woke up. It took him a good half hour to summon the energy to shower and get ready. For some reason he felt light-headed, like he had walked into a cloud and couldn't get out.

When he was dressed, Keith walked over to his nightstand where he kept his caffeine pills. He didn't want to take them but if he wanted to stay awake, he needed to. He needed to cut back; he could tell he was starting to depend on them to stay awake (and the longer he used them, the less effective they became), but he couldn't stop because sleep scared him too much.

But when he opened his drawer, the pills weren't there.

Had he used them all and forgotten? He was sure he hadn't. The last time he had taken some was yesterday, and there had been at least twenty left. For a few seconds, he stood there in confusion. When he finally shook himself out of his gaze, he started searching his room for the bottle of pills but they never showed up. He didn't know why he was so worried; he could just go buy some more. Which he intended to do right after he ate lunch. He hoped food would clear the fog he was in.

When Keith walked into the kitchen, Bailey was there to greet him. The puppy still slept with Keith at night, but he always snuck out of his room when Melissa woke up. While Keith heated up some leftover lasagna, Bailey nipped at Keith's ankles until he was picked up. Keith thought Bailey was the most needy dog ever.

Melissa walked into the kitchen just as Keith sat down with his food and a pop. "Hi," said Keith.

"Hi, Keith."

At the serious tone in his aunt's voice, Keith froze. "Is something wrong?" he asked slowly, lowering his fork to his plate.

Melissa sat down at the table across from him. "We need to talk." Her voice was serious and kind of freaked him out.

Keith's heart skipped a beat. "Uh…okay…."

Melissa didn't waste any time and placed a small black bottle on the table. Caffeine pills. Shit, thought Keith. "I found these in your room yesterday."

"Why the hell were you in my room?" he blurted out. "You shouldn't have gone in there!"

"I wasn't snooping, if that what's you think. I was going to do your laundry-some of your clothes has been on your floor for weeks." Keith thought this was an exaggeration, but didn't think this was the time to debate this. "And when I picked up one of your sweat shirts this bottle fell out of the pocket."

"Why were you doing my laundry? I've seventeen, I do my own laundry." He paused. Then snapped, "When I want."

"I was trying to help you," stated Melissa. "I want to know why you have an almost empty bottle of caffeine pills," she demanded, voice fierce and authoritative.

"Dunno." He shrugged.

Melissa sighed loudly. "Don't start that with me. I know you know. Tell me right now. Why are you taking these and for how long?"

Keith huffed. "I haven't been taking those. I don't—"

"Do not lie to me," said Melissa sternly.

Keith was taken aback at his aunt's sternness for a few seconds. She had never used that tone on him. It kind of freaked him out. "Fine," he spat. "I take them. I've been taking them for a month or so."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?" he asked, rolling his eyes. Wasn't it obvious? "So I can stay awake."

Rubbing her face with the palm of her hand, Melissa asked, defeated, "You have nightmares, don't you? Frequently?"

Keith crossed his arms over his chest and looked away from her. He felt his cheeks flare in embarrassment and hoped she couldn't tell. "No." He couldn't admit that to her. What if she thought the same as Jake? That nightmares were something only little kids had? That he was pathetic?

"Okay, Keith, this has to stop. You need to talk to me. You need to let me in or I can't help you."

Still not looking at her, Keith mumbled, voice low, "What if I don't want to let you in?"

"Then I can't help you." She sounded desperate and sad at the same time.

I don't deserve help, he thought. I deserve this pain and this guilt. "I don't need help."

"Okay, fine," said Melissa. "If you don't want to tell me what's going on, I won't push you. I can't make you talk. But you will not take these pills anymore as long as you live under my roof. Understand?"

At this, Keith swung to face his aunt, anger burning his eyes. "They're just caffeine pills. What's the big deal? It's not like I'm doing actual drugs."

"Because taking them frequently can affect your health. Just because you can get them over the counter doesn't mean they aren't bad for you. Plus, you're taking them so you don't sleep. You need to sleep, Keith. You're using them to cover problems that…You-you need to get help so—"

"You're being ridiculous," growled Keith. "I sleep enough. And I'll take the pills if I want, you can't stop me."

"Don't threaten me, Keith. I'm serious. I've tried to be forgiving and patient; you've been though a lot the past few months and are still grieving, but this is not something I will tolerate. Do you understand?"

Anger rose in Keith and he stood up, knocking his chair over in the process. Bailey practically flew into the living room, cowering behind the couch. "YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! YOU'RE NOT MY MOM!"

Melissa breathed deeply, trying to remain calm. "I'm not trying to be your mom—"

"Yes, you are!" choked Keith. He was still shouting, but not as loud as before. "You and your stupid Thanksgiving traditions and your stupid rules. You're trying to be exactly like her. You can't replace her. You won't ever be able to replace her!" His voice cracked at the last word; he stared at his aunt, chest heaving.

Melissa stood up then, eyes glaring back at Keith. "Don't you dare accuse me of trying to replace your mom. I'm trying my hardest here to make you comfortable. To make you happy. To make you feel like this is your home, which no matter how hard I try, you still don't. I'm trying here, but you're making it extremely difficult."

"No, you—"

"LET ME SPEAK, KEITH!" screamed Melissa, causing Keith to flinch so violently he was sure she noticed, but that didn't stop her from continuing to shout at him. "Do you think I wanted this? How I wanted my life to go? Do you think this is easy for me, raising a teenager? It's not! I never wanted to take you in and take care of you, but I had to!"

Silence filled the room like smoke. Keith tried hard to scream, to fight back, but he couldn't do anything but stand there, speechless. She didn't want him. His aunt didn't want him. She only took him in because she felt obligated to.

"Oh, shit," whispered Melissa brokenly. "Keith, that's not…I didn't mean I don't want you. I-I meant. I-I just I meant—"

She took a step near him—maybe to try and comfort him—but he flinched away. "I-I'm going out," he finally sputtered. And then he spun around, practically running to the front door.

"Keith, wait! You misunderstood me. Please, stop! You—"

He slammed the door behind him, silencing her. He didn't once turn back.

As soon as Keith walked into the main area of the arcade, he felt guilty. Guilty for how he had treated Natalie. He had yelled at her when all she had tried to do was help him. Why did he always do that? What was wrong with him? He never used to be like this. So angry.

He leaned up against the wall close to the back door to wait for Natalie. He hoped she wasn't pissed at him; she had every right to be. A few minutes later, though, she walked through she walked through the door.

They caught each other's gaze right away. Luckily, instead of walking away from him, she walked towards him. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, when she was close enough. "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I was being a jerk."

The worried frown that had been gracing her face turned into a soft smile. "Yeah, you were," she agreed. "But it's okay, I understand."

"Really?" he questioned.

"Yeah," she nodded. Then added, "Thanks for telling me why you were so upset." She leaned against the wall next to him, their shoulders touching.

Keith felt kind of bad. He hadn't really told her everything about the fight. About the reason he and his aunt had fought in the first place. Maybe he would later tonight. "Sure." He grinned. Then an idea crossed his mind. "So, I noticed how curious you were about all the arcade games. Wanna play some? If I remember correctly I do have coming to an arcade and winning the biggest stuffed animal on my quest list."

Natalie's eyes sparkled at his offer, and Keith never wanted to see them dim. "I thought you'd never ask," she said excitedly, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward. "I know exactly which game I want to play first."

Natalie was a ball of fire. She had so much energy. Keith barely could keep up with her; she went from one arcade game to another, almost as if she was determined to play each game at least once. At this rate, she would have no trouble meeting her goal.

Keith played the games with her, but after an hour and a half he was exhausted. He had been so upset over the fight with his aunt he hadn't bothered to get more pills, and without their help he was having an extremely hard time keeping staying awake. Plus, worst of all, the light-headed feeling he had woken up to had transformed into a headache. And the sounds of loud games and kids screaming only intensified it.

He followed Natalie to the next game; a racing one. Keith could tell this was her favorite kind of game by how excited she got. "Aren't you playing?" she asked Keith, who had leaned up against the game. While she waited for him to answer, she put two tokens into the machine.

"No," said Keith, rubbing his temple with his thumb. "I'll pass on this one."

"What? Why not?" she asked, looking at him worriedly. "Are you okay?'

Keith gave her a half nod. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just have a headache and playing the games is starting to make it worse."

"Oh," said Natalie, frowning. "Do you want to go? I can take you back home."

Shaking his head, Keith said, "No, partner, we're staying here until you get fifteen-hundred tickets to get that huge stuffed animal you've been eyeing."

At this, Natalie's eyes drifted toward the front of the room where all of the toys were displayed. Hanging on the wall was a huge stuffed dog—it had to be bigger than Natalie. She turned back toward him. "I only need seven hundred more tickets."

"Piece of cake."

An hour later, Keith followed Natalie to her car as she carried a huge stuffed animal dog in her arms.

"What should we name him?" asked Natalie. She was staring at her stuffed dog, who was sitting next to Keith in their booth at The Pancake Hut. He had his own coffee cup in front of him and napkin placed neatly over his chest like a bib.

Keith bit his lip as he stared at the dog. "Hmm…I dunno. This is a very important question that needs a lot of consideration."

"Agreed," said Natalie. "We need to talk and deliberate."

Keith chuckled as he read over the dinner menu. He had actually never tried anything but Mystery Pie at the diner; however, he hadn't eaten anything all day and was starving.

Julie came over a few minutes later to take their orders and once she had left Natalie asked, "Do you still have a headache?"

"Yeah," admitted Keith. He didn't tell her that it felt like it was getting worse.

"Maybe you should leave early tonight and go home. Get some sleep."

The last thing Keith wanted to do was go back to his aunt's, but his head was starting to hurt so bad he actually agreed with her. "I might do that," he said, looking into her eyes. "I don't want to ditch you, though."

"Don't be stupid," she said. "Seriously."

Keith gave a soft chuckle. "I promise I won't leave until we have a name for our new friend, okay?"

Natalie giggled, excitement in her eyes as she stared at her prize. "Deal."

Their food arrived ten minutes later and Keith was surprised how good it was. It didn't rival the Mystery Pie by any means, but it was still the best diner meal he had ever had.

After they ate their dinner, Keith grabbed two napkins and placed one in front of Natalie and himself. "It's time to take a few minutes and come up with a list of potential names for our friend." He nodded towards the dog.

Natalie looked excited. "You and your lists. Geez. Can't we like talk about it?"

"No, partner," said Keith, rolling his eyes. "It's more fun this way. More official."

"If you say so," she sighed, but her eyes still sparkled with excitement.

While they were both working on their lists, Natalie hesitantly spoke up, her voice quiet and timid, "Hey, so can I ask why you and your aunt got in a fight in the first place?"

Keith finished writing a name down before he looked up at Natalie. "She found something in my room that freaked her out."

Natalie's eyes got wide. "Like what?" she asked slowly.

Keith bit his lip, debating if he should tell her or not. He hated lying to her about so much, he could at least tell her this. "Uh, caffeine pills."

If possible, Natalie's eyes got wider. "Caffeine pills? Why are you taking those?"

Keith rolled his eyes again. "Seriously, why is that the first thing people ask? To stay awake."

"Oh, right," muttered Natalie. "Stupid question." Keith nodded in agreement, but didn't say anything back. He didn't really know what to say. Natalie spoke up after a few seconds. "So…" she started hesitantly, "I remember you said you didn't like to sleep. Why is that?"

Keith felt himself subconsciously tense at her question. He had forgot Natalie didn't know why he didn't like to sleep. "I kind of have…nightmares," he admitted, embarrassed.

"Oh," said Natalie. "I'm sorry." She sounded so sincere and Keith didn't regret telling her for one minute. "A-are they bad?"

He shrugged. "Kind of."

"Have you talked to someone about them? Maybe they could help?"

"No," said Keith quickly. "I haven't. And I'm really not ready to talk right now."

Natalie nodded. "I understand." Keith grinned at her and she added, "If you ever need anything let me know, k?"

"Promise," said Keith. And the strange thing? He really did.

Keith woke up to someone shaking his shoulder. It couldn't have been later than eleven. Slowly, he sat up. Somehow he had managed to fall asleep while working on his list and ended using the stuffed animal as a pillow.

Natalie was standing next to him with a concerned look at her face. "I'm taking you home." It wasn't a question, but a demand.

"Okay," he agreed. As much as he didn't want to go to his aunt's, his head was killing him and at this point the only thing he wanted to do was try to sleep it away. He would even risk a nightmare.

During the short drive to his aunt's, Keith leaned his head against the cold glass of the car window, which was soothing on his head. When Natalie parked in the driveway, she turned to face him, concern shining in her eyes. "Get some sleep, okay?" she said. "And take something for your headache."

"I will."

As he unbuckled his seatbelt, Natalie quickly said, "Oh! I can't pick you up tomorrow—or any morning this week—I have swim practice. Big swim meet Friday, but I'll see you in chemistry tomorrow."

"Okay. Thanks for dropping me off," said Keith. He glanced to the backseat where the stuffed animal was now. "Sorry we didn't get to pick a name for him."

"There's time for that. Just get better."

"I'll try," he said. "See you tomorrow."

Keith walked to the side of his aunt's house and snuck into his bedroom through his window. It took him less than five minutes to change into his pajamas and fall into bed with Bailey curled up beside him.

"Oh my god," said Natalie as soon as Keith arrived in their chemistry class and sat down on the stool at their lab table. "You look horrible."

"Geez, thanks, partner. That's really what I want to hear," mumbled Keith. He wasn't surprised Natalie had commented on how bad he looked; he knew he looked bad. He had seen himself in the mirror. Seen the dark bags under his eyes, his skin an unnatural pale.

"Why are you even here?" she asked. "You're obviously sick."

"I'm not sick," he argued. "I just have a really bad headache. I don't feel that bad." This was partly true. He did feel bad, but not sick enough to skip school. The headache he had yesterday hadn't gone away, but instead had increased. But other than his headache, he wasn't throwing up or anything so he took that as a good sign. Although, he had slept almost six hours, something he hadn't been able to do without a nightmare interrupting him in two months. Maybe that was a sign he was getting sick.

Natalie stared at him. "Maybe you have a migraine. I get them a lot." She opened her backpack and started rummaging through it. "I might have some Excedrin in here…" A few seconds later, she retrieved a clear green bottle. "Want one?"

Keith would've nodded if moving his head didn't hurt so much. "Yeah, please."

She handed him two pills and Keith grabbed his water bottle from his backpack. "Thanks," he said after he swallowed the pills. Natalie gave him a soft smile in return.

Chemistry felt like it dragged on forever. The pills weren't working or were taking longer to take affect. His head starting hurting so much he couldn't focus and Natalie basically had to do the entire lab without him. He started to wonder if he shouldn't have come to school.

When class ended, Natalie walked out with him. Before they went their separate ways she grabbed his arm to gently stop him. "Hey, if you start to feel any worse, please go home."

"Right," said Keith. That was not going to happen. Not if he could help it. First, he'd have to call his aunt if he wanted to leave school. And they hadn't talked since their fight, which would make it incredibly awkward. Second, he didn't like to be alone if he didn't have to. When he was alone, he thought about his parents. He always thought about his parents, but when he was at school he didn't think of them as much. And the pain wasn't as bad.

"I'm serious, Keith," stressed Natalie. "You really don't look good. I know you say it's just a headache, but you're not acting like yourself." She finally let go of his arm. And then something like understanding crossed her face. "If you don't want to go to the nurse and call Melissa, I'll drive you. If, you know, you and your aunt aren't speaking."

Keith was surprised she figured out part of why he was so determined to not leave. "Thanks, partner," he said. "I'll remember that." This response seemed to appease Natalie because she smiled at him before running down the hall to her next class.

Keith hadn't expected to take Natalie up on her offer, but two classes later, his headache had gotten worse and was making him feel nauseous. All Keith wanted to do was sleep.

Since it was lunchtime, he walked into the cafeteria to find Natalie instead of texting her. She was eating at the same table she had been on his first day.

When he neared the table, Brooke saw him and exclaimed, "Hey, Keith!" which caused Natalie to turn around and look at him.

"Hey, Brooke," said Keith softly. Then he turned to Natalie, ignoring Raff who was glaring at him. "Do you think I could take you up on that offer?"

Natalie didn't hesitate. "Of course! Let me just grab my stuff." She started packing up her uneaten lunch. Keith felt bad since she probably wouldn't have enough time to finish eating after she dropped him off.

"Where are you going?" asked Raff.

Natalie didn't even bother to look at him. "Driving Keith home. I probably won't get back until after lunch but I'll see you later, okay?"

"You're suppose to eat lunch with me."

"We eat lunch together everyday. One day won't kill you," said Natalie, stuffing her lunch into her backpack.

Her response angered Raff. "I don't like you going out with him."

Natalie sighed, irritated. "Look, Raff, I'm sorry, but I have to help Keith out. I'll see you later."

Raff opened his mouth to retort, but Natalie quickly turned away from him and stood up, saying a rushed goodbye to everyone before walking away. Keith followed behind her.

During the fifteen-minute drive to his aunt's, Keith managed to fall asleep. "I think you're sick," said Natalie softly as he woke up.

"I just have a headache," said Keith stubbornly, even though he didn't believe it himself. He was starting to think he was coming down with something. Natalie rolled her eyes. Keith gave her a tiny, forced smile as he got out of the car. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem," said Natalie. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Okay." He closed the door and walked up his driveway, pulling his coat tighter against him as the wind blew, crisp and chilly against his skin. It wasn't until he was at his front door did he realize he was so out of it he had left his backpack his Natalie's car. He turned around, hoping Natalie hadn't driven away already, to see her standing there, backpack in hand.

"You forgot this," she said, handing his backpack to him.

"Thanks," he mumbled, unzipping his backpack to retrieve his keys.

As he opened the front door, Natalie muttered, "I think I'm going to make sure you make it to your room safely."

Keith didn't even bother to argue. As soon as they got into his room, he fell limply onto his bed. Natalie hovered by him. "Do you need anything? Water? Medicine?"

"No," said Keith, resting his arms across his forehead. "I think I just need to sleep."

"Okay," answered Natalie, although she didn't seem convinced. "Are you—" She was interrupted by the front door slamming open and heavy footsteps echoing upstairs. "Is that Jake?"

Keith groaned. "Unfortunately." He sat up in bed, heading throbbing. "If you don't mind, I would recommend using my window as an exit."

Natalie was about to respond, when Keith's door suddenly flung open, ricocheting so hard against the wall she wondered if the wall would be dented. "What the hell is going on here?" growled Jake, causing Natalie to tense in fear.

"Get out of my room," demanded Keith.

Jake looked back and forth between Natalie and Keith. "What is this? Some kind of conspiracy? Skipping school and messing arou—"

"Shut up!" screamed Keith, causing his head to throb and his vision to blur. "Get the hell out of my room!"

Jake stomped over to Keith, grabbed his arm, and lifted him off his bed. "You're coming with me," spat Jake. "You," he growled, nodding towards Natalie, "Stay here." Jake dragged Keith out of his room, who was let go so suddenly, he stumbled into a corner. Which wasn't a good thing as he was easily cornered by Jake. "What the hell is going on?"

"Nothing," spat Keith.

Jake rolled his eyes. "That didn't look like nothing. You're suppose to be in school, but instead I find you here with a girl in your room."

"God, chill out."

Jake's fists clenched and his face got red. "Don't you dare tell me to chill out again or I swear you will regret it." Keith stayed silent. "Now, tell me what you were doing." His voice was strangely calm and steady.

"We weren't doing anything!"

"You are such a fucking little liar!" screamed Jake, causing Keith to flinch. Jake saw it, because a satisfied smirk crossed his face.

"I'm not—"

"DO NOT TALK TO ME UNLESS I TELL YOU TO!"

Keith snapped his mouth shut and froze, not daring to speak again. "Everything that comes out of your stupid mouth is a fucking lie. You make me sick." Keith hated to admit it, but he was too terrified at what Jake's reaction would be to speak. "I knew it. All that ever comes out of your mouth is a lie. Tell me," he growled. "What. Were. You. Doing?"

"None of your business," hissed Keith. "You don't live here, you aren't my aunt, so I don't have to tell you anything."

At this, Keith tried push past him, but Jake expected it and grasped Keith's left shoulder tightly and slammed him back into the wall. "You don't leave until I say we're done. And we have a lot more to discuss."

"Let go of me," hissed Keith, but Jake's grip didn't budge. If anything, he only managed to grip tighter. Keith had to admit, he was terrified. He stayed silent.

"I will not have you sleeping around with some girl and getting her pregnant."

"This is bullshit," growled Keith. "I don't have to listen to you." As soon as the words left Keith's mouth, he regretted it. They had only managed to infuriate Jake more. Keith saw it coming before it happened. Jake's left hand lifted in the air and connected with Keith's cheek; a sharp piercing sound of skin contacting with skin echoed in the basement.

Keith couldn't prevent the pained moan that escaped his lips. "Do you understand?" asked Jake, sounding quite proud of himself. "You better do as I say, because I'm not scared of knocking some more sense into you." Jake leaned closer to Keith, who was breathing heavily. He was trying to hide his fear, but it was beginning to be difficult. "Remember, boy, I could do things that could really really fuck you up. Got it?" When Keith didn't respond, he squeezed Keith's shoulder, slamming him into the wall again. "GOT IT?"

"Got it," whispered Keith venomously. "Now get the fuck away from me."

As soon as Keith stumbled into his room, Natalie practically threw herself on him. "Oh my god. Are you okay?" she asked, clinging to his shirt. She sniffed like she was trying hard not to cry. Or she was already crying. Keith didn't know. He felt too ashamed to look at her.

"Fine," said Keith as he fell onto his bed.

Natalie stood next to him. Keith finally looked at her. "He-he slapped you." This was not a question.

"Yeah," admitted Keith. There was no point in denying this; she had been in the other room. He was positive she had heard Jake yelling and slapping him. "I'm okay."

Natalie bit her lip and then without saying anything walked into his bathroom. She returned a minute later with a wet washcloth. "I figure you probably don't want to go upstairs and get ice…so this is what I came up with." Gently, she placed the washcloth on his cheek.

"Thanks."

"Are-are you going to tell Melissa?" she asked hesitantly.

"No," said Keith quickly. "Definitely not."

Natalie looked upset at his answer, but not surprised. "Is that the first time he's done that?"

"Kinda," mumbled Keith. He really didn't want to be talking right now. Especially about this. His head hurt even more after it had been slammed into the wall and he just wanted to sleep. But he knew how much it must've freaked Natalie to hear the confrontation with Jake and thought he should offer some explanation. Plus, he had to make sure she didn't tell anyone.

"Kinda?" she gently prompted.

"Yeah, it's just I mean…I don't know, but it's fine. That's the first time—and probably last—he's slapped me. Just promise me you won't tell anyone." When she didn't responded he said, voice a little frantic, "Please, Natalie, I really don't—"

Natalie interrupted him. "Don't you think Melissa would want to know? That Jake is-is hurting you."

"It doesn't happen all the time. It was just this once," he lied. "And right now? After what happened yesterday? I really don't want to get in a fight about Jake. I just—I don't want to bother her with this crap. I can handle it. Please, promise me you won't tell anyone."

Natalie looked torn. Finally she said, her voice timid, "O-okay, I promise. But you have to promise me something."

"What?" asked Keith hesitantly.

"That if it gets worse, you tell me."

Keith sighed. He felt exhausted and just wanted to sleep; he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. "Okay, fine."

She gave him a small smile. "Well, I better go. You look like you're about to pass out. Unless…do you want me to stay?"

Keith appreciated the request more than he would ever admit. "No, it's okay. I'll be fine."

Natalie didn't look convinced. "If you say so. Call me if you need anything. And feel better." She waited until he nodded before heading toward his window.

Once Natalie was gone, Keith changed into his pajamas before crawling under his covers. But it was a long time before he fell asleep. His thoughts were on Jake and he wondered if he was making a terrible mistake, not telling his aunt what Jake had done. The problem? He was scared. Scared that when he told her and she'd have to choose between the two of them, she'd choose Jake.

Dinner that night was awkward. It was the first time Keith had seen his aunt since their fight and he didn't know how to act or even what to say. So he stayed quiet. To make matters worse, Jake was still over. He kept winking at Keith and a smirk was permanently on his face.

It made Keith sick to know that Jake knew he wasn't going to tell Melissa what had happened between them. Keith hated it because Jake had a strange power over him and he felt trapped. What made it worse was Jake knew he had a power over him. Keith wished with all he had that he could just tell his aunt right now. Scream that Jake hit him, but his voice was stuck in his throat and all he could do was sit there.

Melissa ranted to Jake about one of her clients as they ate. Keith hand never asked his aunt what she did for a living, but he had a general idea that she co-owned a financial company.

It wasn't until Keith coughed (it had been worse since he had woken up from his nap) did Melissa cut off her rant and look at him. As soon as she got a good look at him, though, her eyes widened and she said, "What happened to your cheek?"

"What?" Keith mumbled.

"Your right cheek," said Melissa, leaning towards him to get a better look. "It's red."

Keith's eyes shot to Jake for a split second before glancing back to his aunt. "Oh, that," he started, voice soft. "Uh…I got hit in the face with a basketball in gym today. It's nothing."

Melissa looked like she wanted to question him more, but held her tongue. "I want you to ice it after dinner, okay?"

"Sure." He shrugged.

Melissa seemed satisfied and turned back to Jake to continue their conversation. It wasn't until she went to get a second serving of soup did she notice Keith's bowl was still full. "Do you not like it?" she asked.

"No, it's good," promised Keith, twirling in spoon around his bowl. "I'm just not very hungry is all." Melissa look concerned and it honestly confused Keith. If she didn't want him here why did she always act like she cared?

Jake didn't hesitate to butt in. "See what I mean, Melissa? He doesn't respect anything you do. He yells at you, ignores you, and then won't eat his dinner."

"Jake, please," Melissa sighed before turning back to Keith.

"I'm sorry," said Keith. "I'll eat it."

"It's fine," she said, and she sounded like she meant it. "Don't eat it if you're not hungry. Are you feeling okay?"

Keith wasn't feeling okay. Even though he had just woken up from a nap, he didn't feel rested at all. He still had a headache, but now he was coughing and food honestly made him feel kind of nauseous. "I'm just tired," he lied. "Can I go to bed?"

"Of course," said Melissa, sounding a little surprised. "Let me know if you need anything."

Keith stood up and placed his still full bowl of soup by the sink. He was about to go down the stairs to his room when Melissa stopped him. "I want to talk about what happened on Sunday," she whispered this so Jake couldn't here. "I don't like us not talking, and I'm worried you misunderstood what I said."

"Do we have to do this now?" interjected Keith. "I really just want to go to bed. I'm tired."

An upset look crossed Melissa's face. "Okay, but tomorrow, all right? We really need to talk."

"Yeah, sure."

As he walked to his room, Keith thought about his aunt and why he was so determined to not talk to her. Granted, he didn't feel well and wasn't in the mood for a talk, but he could've done it. Gotten it over with. But there was something deep inside of him that was terrified. Sure, his aunt said he misunderstood her. But what if he hadn't? What if she really didn't want him? What if she was going to tell him it wasn't working out and they needed to find him another place to live? Where would he go? Foster care? He had nowhere else to go. He had no other family to take him.

The first thing Keith thought when he woke up was, I'm going to throw up. He bolted out of bed and fell in front of his toilet just in time before he starting emptying the contents of his stomach. And he couldn't stop.

By the time his stomach calmed down, he felt exhausted and lied on the cold title of his bathroom. He didn't trust his stomach enough to get back into bed. Bailey walked hesitantly over to him. "I'm okay," croaked Keith. Bailey didn't look convinced and stared at Keith with a very concerned look for a dog.

Keith stared at Bailey until he felt his eyes slip closed. His eyes weren't closed for more than a few minutes when he heard his aunt's high heels echoing in the kitchen.

As much as he didn't want to get up, he knew he had to; he had to tell Melissa he was sick. Standing up made him feel like he was going to be sick again, so he took it slowly as he made his way upstairs.

Melissa jumped when Keith walked in the kitchen. "Keith! You're still here. I thought you had left. You're usually gone by—" She was rambling, but stopped when she turned around to looked at him. "Sweetie? Is something wrong?"

"I've been throwing up," he mumbled, leaning against the wall. He felt like he had no strength. "I don't feel well." He felt like he was going to throw up again.

Melissa's whole face turned to one of concern and she quickly walked over to him. "Honey," she started, "why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?" She felt his forehead for a fever.

He shrugged. "I dunno." He swallowed thickly and wrapped his arm around his stomach before he moaned pitifully, "I'm gonna throw up again." Before Melissa could say anything, he was running across the kitchen and into the bathroom. He didn't even have time to slam the door before he was throwing up into the toilet.

Melissa hovered by the door, nervous. When he was done throwing up, Keith shakily stood up. Melissa was instantly at his side. "You're okay," she soothed, leading him out of the bathroom. "Here, you look like you need to lie down. Go back to bed and I'll see if I can find medicine."

"Okay."

Melissa entered his bedroom a few minutes later with a bottle of water and some pills. She sat down on his bed. "I don't have much medicine, I'll pick some up later. I promise."

"Okay," said Keith, sitting up in bed.

"How long have you been feeling sick?" she asked.

He took the pills and water from her. "I dunno. I started feeling weird Sunday and I had a really bad headache yesterday."

Melissa frowned. "I wish you would've told me. "

"I didn't really think I was getting sick," he stressed. "I just thought I had a really bad headache."

Melissa signed. "I'll call your school and tell them you're not coming in today. Just try and get some rest, all right? I'll call you later to check up."

"Uh huh."

"You don't want me to stay, do you?"

"No!" said Keith quickly. "No, you don't need to skip work just because of me. I'll be fine. Promise."

Melissa didn't look convinced, but stood up anyway. "Feel better, honey," she said before walking out of the room. "Call me if you need anything."

After Melissa left, Keith dozed for a while, but then he had to jump out of bed and run to the bathroom to throw up again.

Keith woke to a hand on his forehead. He blinked awake to see his aunt sitting on his bed. "Hi," she said when his eyes opened.

"What's going on?" mumbled Keith. He felt disoriented and groggy. He rolled onto his back; his t-shirt was sticking to him. He felt too hot, even though he was shaking with the chills. "Why are you home?" he asked thickly. "Is it five already?"

"No, it's only noon. I worried about you all morning," said Melissa, her voice thick with concern. "I couldn't get any work done, so I decided to work from home so I can be here with you."

"'M fine," muttered Keith. This was a huge lie. He felt awful. Definitely worse than he had this morning. He hadn't been able to sleep much; he felt like he was throwing up at least once every half hour. And to top it all off, not only did his head still hurt, but his cough was getting worse. "You didn't need to leave work 'cause of me."

Melissa didn't look convinced. "Did you throw up again while I was gone?"

"Yeah," said Keith, nonchalantly. "Lots of times."

"I'm sorry," frowned Melissa. "I called your school this morning to tell them you were sick and they said you were absent for your last two classes yesterday. Is that true?"

Oh, shit, thought Keith. Busted. "Sorry," was all he said. He had absolutely no energy to argue.

"Did you skip because you weren't feeling well?"

Luckily, his aunt didn't seem mad. Only concerned and a little upset. "I had a really bad headache, so Natalie drove me here during lunch." He really wanted to go back to sleep. Whenever he was awake, he ended up throwing up and he was really starting to feel nauseous.

"You should have called me," stressed Melissa. "I would've picked you up."

"Sorry." He closed his eyes to will his stomach to calm down. But the more time passed, the more likely it seemed like he was going to throw up.

"Next time, promise me you'll tell me when you aren't feeling well. Now it makes sense why you didn't eat your dinner last night…." she trailed off. She lifted a plastic bag that was so full it looked like it was about to rip. "I stopped at Walgreens on my way home from work and got you some stuff. I've never had to take care of a sick teenager before so I didn't know what to get." She opened the bag and Keith stared at her with a fevered gaze. "I got a thermometer, some different varieties of medicine, cough drops, tea, and lots of Gatorade." She nodded towards his nightstand where she had set a cold, unopened bottle of grape Gatorade.

"Thanks," said Keith thickly. He was really thirsty but the thought of sitting up made him more nauseous.

"We should probably take your temperature."

Keith groaned and considered this. He really didn't want to move. "I feel like I'm going to throw up again."

"Okay, um…here we'll do this quickly. Just let me know if you're going to be sick." Melissa bit her lip and then rummaged through the bag until she found the thermometer. While she read the directions, Keith just stared at her. She handed him the thermometer, which he stuck under his tongue and a few minutes later the device beeped and Melissa grabbed it before Keith could take it out of his mouth. "Hundred and two. Definitely a fever. We'll have to monitor it." Keith stared at her blankly. "Can you sit up and drink some Gatorade and take some medicine?"

He really didn't want to, but Melissa had gone through the trouble of buying practically the whole store out of medicine. Slowly, he sat up, stomach twisting. Melissa explained the various types of medicine she had bought and he picked the one that best fit his symptoms. Shakily, he grabbed the Gatorade and took his pill. As soon as he took the medicine, though, he stomach protested and he clamped his mouth shut and squeezed his eyes. Don't throw up. Don't. Throw. Up, he thought. His silent mantra was to no avail, because he suddenly he leaned forward, arm wrapped around his stomach and choked out, "I'm gonna be sick." His aunt thrust a trashcan in front of him just in time.

"It's okay, it's okay," soothed Melissa, rubbing circles on his back comfortably as he was sick.

When he was done, he placed his trashcan on the floor and fell onto his bed. "Do you want to try and take your medicine again? I know it made you sick, but…I don't know…"

"No," said Keith. "I don't want to throw up again."

"We'll try later. After you take a nap. Do you need anything?"

"I don't know," he moaned. "I just really don't feel well." He couldn't ever remember feeling this sick before. He felt like he was dying.

"I know," sighed Melissa. She looked a bit frantic, like she had no idea what to do next. "What should I do?" she finally asked. "What would your mom have done?"

"Everything you are," he admitted. And it was true.

"Okay," said Melissa, looking a little more confident. "You take a nap. I'll be in my office. Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"Yes," lied Keith. He did need something. But his aunt couldn't get him want he wanted. Right now, what he wanted—needed—more than anything?

His mom.

On Wednesday, Keith didn't feel any better. If anything, he felt worse. He still had problems keeping anything down. He almost always threw up after he ate anything. The only substance his stomach seemed to be able to handle was small sips of Gatorade and crackers. His temperature wasn't going down either, no matter how much medicine and cold compresses his aunt gave him.

Melissa stayed home from work Wednesday, too. And she continued to check on Keith every hour or so. Keith could tell she was worried he wasn't getting better, especially since he only seemed to be getting worse. He had woken up that morning with a new symptom: a sore throat.

He was glad she stayed home, even if he would never admit it out loud. He barley had enough energy to make it to the bathroom, let alone to try and get medicine and food.

Keith spent most of the day sleeping. One thing he was glad about was he didn't have any nightmares, even though all he did was sleep. He wondered why. He thought maybe it was because his body was so sick and exhausted. He, of course, expected them to come back when he got better.

That night, though, around midnight, Keith to a severe sore throat. The pain had almost tripled as he slept. He tried not to swallow that much, his throat hurt so bad. When he swallowed the pain radiated to his ears. He knew there was no way he would be able to go back to sleep without some cough drops. But when he went to grab some more, they were gone.

He was feeling so sick he didn't even think twice about waking up his aunt. Melissa opened her door a few seconds after he had knocked. "Keith?" she asked sleepily. "What's wrong?"

"I ran out of cough drops and my throat really hurts," he croaked, wincing at how much talking hurt his throat. "And I feel like I'm going to throw up again," he weakly added. He hadn't thought of mentioning this, but decided it was best to give her some type of warning.

"I have more in the kitchen," said Melissa frantically, wide awake now. "Here, let's go downstairs." Gently, Melissa guided Keith down the stairs and to the couch in the living room where he fell limply against the pillows.

Bailey jumped onto the couch, crawling over Keith so he could rest right next to him. He kissed Keith a few times, looking quite concerned for a dog, before he rested his head on Keith's arm and closed his eyes.

With a fevered gaze, Keith stared at Bailey until Melissa kneeled to his level with water, medicine, and cough drops. "Think you can take the medicine first? Then you can have the cough drops."

Keith did so, the ice water feeling good on his burning throat. He had only just swallowed the pills, when his stomach started protesting. Shakily, he placed the cup on the coffee table and took in a deep breath, praying his stomach would settle. "I'm gonna be sick," moaned Keith, standing up so fast, Bailey almost flew off the couch.

Keith ran into the bathroom to throw up. Throwing up was bad enough, but throwing up with a severe sore throat was just pure hell. He felt like his throat was tearing.

When he was done, he shakily stood up, feeling light-headed. As soon as he walked out, Melissa was there, guiding him to the kitchen table where he proceeded to take his temperature. "A hundred and three point five," she whispered. She glanced at Keith. "Honey, you're not going to like this but you need to go to the emergency room. I-I don't know what to do anymore. It's been two whole days and you keep throwing up. You barley keep any liquid or medicine down…and your temperature…"

"What? No," said Keith. "I'm fine. I don't need to go to the emergency room."

"I'm at a loss here, sweetie. I may be freaking out over nothing, but I'm not going to risk it." She glanced Keith over for a few seconds. He had rested his head on the table and was staring at her through a fevered gaze. "I'm going to go get you some shoes and a coat. Then we're going," she said. Keith didn't even bother to argue.

Less than an hour later, Keith was lying on a hospital bed, as him and his aunt waited for the doctor to arrive. A tall, thin man with spiky brown hair entered the room five minutes later. "I'm Dr. Martin," said the man. "Looks like someone is a bit under the weather," he said, walking over to Keith. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked this as he read over the form Melissa had filled out while they had been in the waiting room.

"I'm not sure," began Melissa, as Dr. Martin started checking Keith over. "He said he started feeling weird Sunday, and Monday he had a headache. He's been running a temperature and throwing up since Tuesday morning. I don't know what to do so I decided to bring him in. He can't keep anything down, really. When we left, he was running a temperature of a hundred and three and is now complaining of a severe sore throat."

Dr. Martin was quiet as he finished giving a check up. When he was done he said, "Keith definitely has the flu. Unfortunately, it looks like he's just unlucky and got it worse than we normally see. My main concern is how dehydrated he is." Dr. Martin wrote something down on his notebook then finished, "I'll have one of my nurses start him on a saline drip to get rehydrated, and prescribe him some antibiotics and anti nausea medication. He should be able to go home in a few hours."

Keith slept, only waking up when he allowed to leave the emergency room. He was half asleep as Melissa helped him off the bed, into his coat, and to her car. He slept the whole way back.

"You feel any better?" asked Melissa as Keith got into his bed.

"Yeah, I do, actually," said Keith.

"That's great to hear," she said. "I brought you down some Gatorade."

"Thanks," he said. His aunt sat down on his bed, looking a bit nervous. Like she wanted to talk about something. "What's up?" he mumbled.

Melissa bit her lip. "I know it's really late and you want to sleep and don't feel good, but I really need to talk to you."

"Okay," he whispered.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about this all week, but things came up. I just want you to know, Keith, that what I said during our fight. I didn't mean it—everything just came out wrong. I was worried and upset and I shouldn't have yelled at you. I didn't mean I didn't—don't—want you, what I meant was I never wanted you to have to go throw this pain and I don't know how to take care of you like your mother did. This is all so new to me and I feel so lost and just want you to be happy, but you've gone through so much I worry that you never will be." She stopped to take a deep breath before saying, her voice stressing each word, "But if there's one thing I need you to know is that I want you."

"Okay," breathed Keith. He hadn't meant to ask this out loud, but everything was so unexpected and he couldn't stop himself. He wanted to tell her that he tried to be happy, he really did. But he was just in too much pain and the guilt he felt for his parents' death took over everything. And sometimes it was all he could think about. Most days he didn't feel like he deserved to be happy, not for what he had done.

"I never want you to doubt that, okay? I hated thinking that you thought you weren't welcome here. I hated thinking that."

"Thanks," he whispered. The look at his aunt's face, though, indicated this conversation wasn't over. "Is there something else?"

If possible, she seemed more nervous. "While you were sleeping at the hospital I found Dr. Martin and talked to him."

"About what?"

"I told him about the caffeine pills and how you don't sleep. He thinks those may have been major reasons why you got sick. The pills and lack of sleep have lowered your immune system."

Keith couldn't believe his luck. Why did he have to get sick right after Melissa had found his pills? "Oh."

"I don't want to make you do things you aren't comfortable with, but I have to make you do this. Dr. Martin gave me a list of counselors you can talk to. I really think it's time you talk to someone, Keith. You're not getting better."

Keith sat up in his bed a little. "I don't need to talk to anyone," he stressed, almost a little frantic. "I'm fine. I go to school; I do my homework. I—"

"Sweetie, that's not living. You do those things because you have to. You don't seem to have any hobbies and you haven't even once tried to drive again because you're too scared. You can't sleep because you have nightmares, which makes you sick. You need to talk to someone. If you don't do it nothing is ever going to get better. You're just going to go about your life with all this pain and with no way to know how to deal with it." She sniffed and then added, "I'm trying here, Keith, and I hope this helps. I just want to get this right."

Keith opened his mouth to argue, but he could tell nothing would stop his aunt from making him talk to someone. "Fine," he said after a moment of silence. "I'll go."

By Friday night, Keith was feeling much better. He still didn't feel good enough to get out of bed, but he was able to keep down food and stay awake longer. He had been watching a marathon of CSI most of the day and a new episode was about to come on when someone tapped on his window.

Startled, he looked up to see Natalie staring into his room. When she caught his gaze she waved, and then slid open his window. She crawled through before leaning through the window pull in the huge stuffed animal dog she had won at the arcade. "Hi," she said breathlessly, holding on tightly to the dog.

"Hi, partner," said Keith. "What are you doing here? What is Murphy doing here?" They had finally named their friend today through a string of text messages while Natalie was in her math class.

"I was bored," she whined. "So I thought I should bring him over to keep you company." She walked over to his bed. "Especially since you won't be at school next week."

Christmas break started next Wednesday, so Melissa had told him he was just going to stay home and rest. "You are so jealous," he joked.

Natalie flopped onto his bed. "You know me too well." She pulled the covers back and got in. Keith wondered when they had gotten so comfortable with each other and wondered if it was normal. "So…have you...has Jake bothered you lately?"

"No," said Keith quickly. "I haven't seen him since Monday. He doesn't want to get sick. Which," he started, "you do realize I may be contagious?"

"I don't care," said Natalie. "And that's good. He really freaked me out."

"Yeah," agreed Keith quietly. "I'm okay."

"So, what are you watching?" she asked casually, changing topics.

Keith faced the television. "CSI marathon."

"Awesome! I love CSI!"

They watched CSI for the next few hours, but soon Keith was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. And for some reason, Natalie was trailing her fingers down his arm, which was only lulling him more to sleep.

He couldn't keep his eyes open any longer and let the sound of the television and Natalie's touch sooth him to sleep.

A/N: I really hoped you guys enjoyed this chapter. I'm actually kind of concerned about it! I had a hard time with it. I apologize for the delay and will try to update as soon as possible. If you get bored while you wait for the next chapter, check out my profile for a new Keith one-shot I posted called What I've Done.

Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!