A/N: Wow, over a hundred reviews already!? You guys are so sweet, all the feedback makes me so happy! Thank you all once again. :)
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CHAPTER 12
Virus
"Welp, it would seem he has indeed contracted a fever."
Ratchet hated delivering those words each time the young human resident on The Ark fell ill. To say the least, when Michael was miserable, most everyone was miserable. No one liked to see a youngling, let alone him, sick. In fact, he could remember as far back as when they had to take care of a virus-prone Bumblebee and how miserable that had been. Dealing with Michael when he was sick however, was much worse, as they had not fully come to understand how to treat some of the human illnesses. "Daddy, I'm fine." Michael whined "My tummy just hurts a little."
"A little indeed." Ratchet crossed his arms at the boy who sat up, sweaty and red faced in bed "I found you huddled over your toilet vomiting waterfalls, youngling. You have a fever of one-hundred and two." He then added "If I so much as see you leave that bed for anything absolutely unnecessary I will tie you to it." He added.
Michael gave a long pout at Ratchet, who didn't look to be buying it. He laid back and groaned quietly, he knew that Ratchet was right, he was really sick. They'd had to clean up his bedspread, which was the only reason they were even up as early as five in the morning. "You heard the doctor." Optimus explained politely "The last thing we need is you to be contracting a worse virus." He explained.
"A worse virus." Ratchet shuddered "The mere thought of all the human waste we'd have to clean up."
Michael's face fell a bit at that, not wanting to be a burden. Yet he didn't say anything, writing it off himself. Every time he ever thought he was putting unneeded stress on them, they informed him otherwise. By now, he had stopped himself from thinking too hard on the time they devoted to things like this. "Daddy?" Optimus stared down at Michael as he gently brushed his blond hair with a finger "I got a test today." He murmured.
"Your teacher will understand." Optimus replied.
Optimus knew why Michael hated being confined to his bed. It was probably the only time that the boy could find himself bored. Especially given he was stuck in bed on a large base filled to the brim with places to explore. "I'd better go whip up some medicine for him." Ratchet explained "You can get to work if you need to Prime, I will write out shifts. We'll all share the work with Michael." He explained.
Optimus looked down upon Michael, rubbing his back gently. He didn't want to leave his son when he was in this state. But at the same time, there was much work he had to do. He'd have his shift to be with Michael, the longest shift as per usual, but for now, he knew Michael needed rest and medicine. "Do what you are told." Optimus told him gently "Do not fight anyone over taking your medicine or staying in bed." He then asked firmly "Are we clear?"
"Yes, daddy." Michael sighed, defeated.
Optimus left with a gentle "I love you", needing to get to his post by now. Ratchet eyed the clearly sick and outwardly sad young child. Thinking calmly, he checked to make sure they weren't being watched before sighing. "If you stay in bed, and promise not to act up..." Ratchet paused a moment "I will allow you use of a few of my tools to create something." He explained.
Michael's face brightened, Ratchet rarely let him do that. Yet every so often, he would allow it, as it seemed to bring out Michael's creative side. "Okay, I guess I can use a nap..." Michael muttered, laying his head against the pillow "Uncle Ratchet?" Ratchet stared at him slowly "Can I use those cool Cybertronian ones too?" He asked.
Ratchet chuckled. "I'm afraid not, they're about as big as you." Ratchet smirked "You need to sleep however, so lay your head down. I'll wake you in a few hours to give you medication." He finally said "And then, and only then I will give you some tools to occupy your time that you are bedridden." He put his hands on his hips "Deal?" He asked.
"Alright."
Ratchet had a feeling that the boy didn't have the energy to argue further. He waited a good few minutes until he was satisfied that the boy had fallen asleep before exiting the bedroom. He was not sure how they would handle Michael being so sick. It had been the first time he had experienced a stomach virus this bad and he knew better than anyone that it would take a lot of work on all of their parts. "Primus help me, that child is going to be the death of me." He sighed quietly.
Even though he did care about the boy too much to complain further, he still felt that way at times. With all the chaos with the Decepticons, and then now, he felt exhausted. Yet he also knew that he would do it, both because he loved the boy, and because quite frankly, it was his job. But for the most part, he liked to believe it was the former.
...
For the Autobots, the shifts were torture.
Though they were more concerned about how Michael was feeling, it didn't make it any less frustrating. The waste he purged from his stomach was foull, and there was a lot of it even with the medicine in his system. By the time a day of this had passed, they were all ready for Michael to get better already. "Alright, l'il dude's in recharge again." Jazz spoke up as he exited his bedroom, staring at Bumblebee "He's still pretty weak, but I think the purging's finally stopped for a while."
Bumblebee sighed with relief, staring in on the sleeping boy. For the yellow mech, he had to admit, it was even worse. It was his little brother in the bed after all, and it went without saying he hated to see him like this. "Think we should just leave him to sleep?" Bumblebee asked "I mean, I could stay behind but what if I wake him up?"
"That's why you're there, in case he does wake up." Jazz reminded him "Do I need to warn you about the projectiles?"
Bumblebee shuddered, and shook his head. Remembering full well the full blast of it he had gotten the night before. Jazz only nodded and treaded off back towards his designated work. "Jazz?" A small voice muttered, bringing him out of his thoughts.
Bumblebee carefully stepped through the threshold, his optics turning towards the boy. He was sitting up in bed now, not fully awake but enough so that he smiled at seeing Bumblebee in front of him. "'Fraid not, little bro." Bumblebee replied gently "Anything I can get for you, though? Waste bucket? Water?" He questioned.
"Water." Michael replied "Please?"
Bumblebee eyed the glass of water next to him, which had since emptied. He had only left a few minutes to grab water when he returned to the fowl stench they all feared by this point. Luckily, Michael had made it to the waste bucket this time, yet Bumblebee still wished he was capable of pinching his nasal receptors. "If you're still purging you need to take small sips." Bumblebee reminded him "Otherwise you might blow chunks all over me again." He added.
"Can't help it..." Michael muttered weakly.
"I know." Bumblebee assured him "Just thought I'd remind you."
Michael took small sips of the water he was offered as Bumblebee went to dispose of the waste. He quietly hoped that from what Jazz had said, the vomiting would go down from here. "Bee?" Bumblebee heard as he entered slowly "Sorry."
"What for?"
"Purging."
Bumblebee chuckled a bit at that sentiment, knowing that it was not a reason to apologize. He carefully pat Michael on the head at that, and peered down at him. "Hey, you can't help it, now can you?" Bumblebee silently wished that was the case "Hey, from what my scans are telling me your fever's going down. That's a good sign." He added "I think purging your systems may be helping you out of it." He explained.
Michael nodded his head weakly, resting his head against the pillow again. He was tired of being sick, and tired of staying in bed all day with nothing but chicken noodle soup to eat. "Is daddy gonna be done with work soon?" He asked "His bedtime stories make me feel a little better too..."
Bumblebee smiled in acknowledgement, remembering how good those were. Bumblebee remembered his own nights curled up on his berth listening to Optimus's stories of brave Primes and of valor. Bumblebee checked the time, and nodded his head. "He'll be in right after I am, so you only have an hour to wait." He explained "Michael?" The boy peered up "Do you want me to tell you a story? Just in case you're too tired by then to listen?"
"What story could you tell?" Michael asked gently.
"I know all of the one's Optimus has probably told you." Bumblebee replied gently "I heard them all too after all."
"Do you know the Goblin of Tyger Pax?"
"Sure do."
"The Scarlet Widow?"
"That one's my favorite."
A moment passed before Michael nodded his head, and clutched Beary to his body. "There once was an Autobot known as The Scarlet Widow. She lived atop Mt. Redvice with her three sons: Malform, Chains, and Bereker." Bumblebee began as the boy seemed enthralled "Now these three brothers each had a special talent." He continued.
The longer Bumblebee went on with the story, the less Michael seemed to need to "purge". It was a good thing to see the boy finally seemingly relaxed, with his eyes growing heavier. After all, the more rest the boy got, the better. "And so, The Scarlet Widow, and her sons, returned home safe and sound... And lived happily ever after." He smiled widely "Did I get it right?"
"Mmmmhmmmm." Michael nodded, looking up "Bee?"
"Yeah?"
"I think I'm gonna hurl again."
Bumblebee sighed, grabbing the waste bucket again. His hopes that the worst of it was over following the story starting to put him to sleep. He simply stared at Michael with sympathetic optics, and rubbed his back. Inside, he could only hope that this would pass soon. In fact, they all could only hope so.
...
A/N: We'll continue to see how the Autobots handle a human illness next chapter. Hope this was a good intro into that though. :)
