Being sick totally sucks, Emma thought for what felt like the thousandth time. She felt like all she'd done since the previous night was sleep but it wasn't nearly enough. She had no energy to speak of and even something as simple as walking down the stairs and into the kitchen had left her winded. Her head had also started to pound again. Lying down during her nap had helped a great deal with the sinus pressure … not that she was about to admit that to anyone.
Basically, she hadn't even been noticeably sick for twenty-fours yet and she was already completely done with it.
Her very perceptive kid and her equally perceptive pirate exchanged a concerned glance, and a moment later, Henry vacated his seat at the island while Killian gently ushered her over to the now empty stool. She opened her mouth to protest but Henry cut her off with an insistent, "You need to sit."
All right, her kid's time as family caretaker had definitely gone to his head. Still, sitting did sound like a wonderful idea and it wasn't like anyone was going to let her argue so she wordlessly plopped down next to her father and baby brother. Killian sidled up beside her and now that everyone in the family was settled, Snow reclaimed her place at the stove with the cocoa.
"How are you feeling, kiddo?" David asked, a tender smile on his face at the way Emma's hand automatically reached out to grasp her baby brother's.
It was on the tip of her tongue to insist that she was fine. Or maybe insist she would be a lot better if everyone would stop asking how she was feeling because once again she had a cold, for crying out loud, not the plague. As her eyes locked on her father's, however, she changed her mind.
All her life, she'd longed for this. All her life, she'd wanted people to care how she was feeling. And yeah, it may have been embarrassing to have her parents – who were the same age as she was – hovering over her as if she were five years old, but at the same time, it was really kind of nice. It showed they cared. It showed they loved her. And after twenty-nine long years of tending to her own illnesses, maybe it was time to allow others tend to it with her.
Not that she was going to admit that out loud, either. So, with her typical sarcasm, she said, "If I could find a way to detach my head from my body, I'd be wonderful."
He gave her a sympathetic smile. "We could try the shower treatment with you, too, if you want. It might loosen some of that ick up, which would help with the pressure."
That actually sounded like a really good idea. "Yeah, maybe," she said, smiling back.
"Oh, that reminds me!" Henry cried before taking off for the bathroom without another word of explanation. The adults all shared a frown of confusion. What the hell was the kid up to now?
A moment later, they had their answer. Henry rushed out of the bathroom with a pair of gloves and the thermometer in his hands. Emma groaned, causing Snow and Charming and even Killian – the traitor – to stifle chuckles. "Kid, we just drank water with our medicine," she whined. "Our temperatures aren't going to be accurate."
"The water wasn't that cold," David said. Emma shot him a glare. What was with the guys in her life going all Benedict Arnold on her today?
"It's better to take your temperatures now before you all drink hot cocoa," Henry argued, hiding a little smirk. "Unless of course you want your temperature to read a hundred and four ..."
"Fine," Emma huffed. "I guess we'll do it now." The last time her temperature had read a hundred and four, she'd ended up in the hospital. Of course, then her temperature actually had been a hundred and four and she'd had pneumonia. This was just a little cold plus sinus infection with a low-grade fever.
Henry smiled almost smugly at her as he slipped a protective sleeve on the thermometer and handed it to Snow. "You're going first, Gramma, just like last time."
Once again humoring her grandson, Snow slipped the thermometer from his hand and stuck the tip under her tongue. She worked on the cocoa as they awaited the device's verdict, stirring the warm chocolate to keep it from scorching.
When she heard the beep, Snow removed it from her mouth and glanced down at the display to check the damage. "Hey, look at that," she said, smiling as she handed the thermometer back to Henry. "I'm down to 98.9."
"All right, Gramma," Henry grinned as he cleared the thermometer. He stripped off the protective sleeve, threw it away, and slid another one on before handing the thermometer to David. "Now it's your turn."
"Oh, yeah?" David asked as he handed the squirt to Emma to free up his hands. "What do I win if my temperature is lower than Snow's?"
Killian swallowed a snort. "Only your family could turn illness into a friendly competition, love," he whispered to Emma.
She smiled. That was certainly the truth.
"You win the task of making dinner this evening," Snow grinned.
David wrinkled his nose at his wife, which made Emma smirk. Henry pursed his lips, clearly worried about allowing the sick people near the food. "She's kidding," Emma whispered to her kid. He let out a soft breath of relief.
While waiting for the thermometer to beep, Emma focused her attention on her baby brother. To her immense relief, he looked much, much better. His eyes were bright, shiny, and clear, and he didn't sound anywhere near as congested. "Are you feeling better, squirt?" she murmured, smiling when he wrapped his little hand around her index finger. "You look like you're feeling better."
"Aye, he does," Killian agreed from behind her. His hand, which he'd rested on her shoulder, disappeared just long enough for him to reach around her and brush his thumb across the baby's forehead.
"I think he's doing a lot better," Snow spoke up, smiling, "which, might I add, is a good sign for all of us."
That was true as well. If Patient Zero's condition was already on the upswing, the rest of them would probably be feeling a lot better by the morning.
The thermometer finally beeped and a smile curled on David's lips when he checked the screen. "Another good sign," he said, handing the device to his grandson. "I'm down to 99.1."
"Congratulations," Emma smirked. A lowered temperature and he was off the hook for dinner for the night. That was the best of both worlds.
"And it looks like the healthy people are still on tap for dinner," Henry grinned.
Snow smiled at the family banter as she removed the pot of cocoa from the burner and set it aside to cool a little before pouring. As she arranged the mugs, Henry slid a new sleeve on the thermometer and held it out to his mother. "You're up."
With a smile that was equal parts tenderness and mirth, David slipped the squirt from her arms so she was free to take the thermometer. Emma heaved a sigh but snatched the thermometer from her kid's hand without complaint. Her parents' fevers were hanging on by a thread; hopefully hers had gone down as well.
As they awaited the beep that would decide her fate – all right, so being sick made her a little overdramatic sometimes – Killian placed his hand on the small of her back and smiled down at her. She smiled back, her cheeks flushing and heart skipping a beat when he rubbed circles on her back.
His hand was gone a moment later and she was left wondering how he always knew how to give her the perfect amount of comfort. The gentle touch had been just enough, a way to let her know that he was there without overstating it.
The thermometer finally beeped and when she pulled it from her mouth, Emma's smile grew wider. "Down to 99.5," she said as she handed it to Henry for verification. It was still a marginal fever and it was still the highest of her family but at least it was going in the right direction.
Everyone smiled at her, their relief apparent. "A couple more doses of medicine and that sucker will cry uncle," David said.
Emma nodded, sudden tears pricking her eyes. For so many years, she'd treated her own fevers and taken care of herself. Now … now she had people who forced medicine down her throat and made her take her temperature and who wouldn't dream of letting her go through any illness alone, even something as simple as a cold plus sinus infection.
It was foreign … but it was also wonderful.
Before Emma could even begin working out the complicated emotions swirling through her, Snow slid a mug of cocoa across the island to her. "Thanks, Mom," Emma said, picking up her mug as Snow distributed the rest of them. There was something comforting about grasping the warm ceramic tightly in her hands, and the cocoa did wonders for her scratchy throat.
For a long moment, everyone just sat quietly and sipped their cocoa. Then, after a glance up at the clock, Henry said, "I know you guys are feeling better but I can tell you're not going to be up to doing much. How does putting on another movie sound?"
The adults all exchanged a glance. "That sounds like a wonderful idea," David said, answering for all of them.
Henry smiled, then flicked his eyes to Emma. "What do you say, think we should go with Back to the Future II?"
Killian's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Two? Marty McFly has a second adventure?"
"Actually, he has three," Emma informed him, hiding a smirk. "We have to find out why something needs to be done about his and Jennifer's kids, don't we?"
"Aye, love, I suppose we do," Killian replied, smiling at her.
"All right, then," Emma smiled back. "Back to the Future II works for me, kid."
"Me, too," Snow said.
"Me, three," David added.
Emma groaned and rolled her eyes. God, dad jokes were so embarrassing.
"All right, you guys go get settled," Henry instructed around a snicker. "I'll get the movie."
"The doctor has handed down his care plan," Emma sighed after Henry had disappeared up the stairs. Everyone chuckled but they still shifted themselves over to the living room without a word of argument. They reclaimed their previous positions, Emma squeezed in on the sofa between her parents, the little squirt in David's arms, and Killian sitting on the floor at Emma's feet.
"Are you doing all right, love?" he asked as they got settled.
"I'm good," she assured him, which was mostly the truth. Her head was pounding but beyond that, she actually felt okay.
He smiled at her and then turned the question on her parents.
"We're doing well, thank you," Snow smiled. David nodded his agreement, a touched smile on his lips as well.
Henry returned then with the movie, smiling upon seeing everyone's position, and stuck the DVD into the player. "Part II, here we come," he said as he sat down at his grandfather's feet.
Emma noted with amusement that Killian seemed to be absolutely fascinated with the whole notion of a flying DeLorean. Which really shouldn't have shocked him, considering his ship had flown on more than one occasion.
A few minutes into the movie, however, Emma's pounding head became too much for her. She fidgeted, trying to slouch enough to rest her head against the back of the couch. It was no use; the sofa was too crowded.
Snow wrapped her arm around Emma's shoulders and lightly pulled her towards her. And then Emma did something that shocked both Snow and herself: she curled into her mother's side and rested her head on her shoulder.
She heard Snow gasp softly and then she felt Snow press a soft kiss to the top of her head. Emma blinked back the new tears of love and comfort that had welled in her eyes before they could fall.
It took Emma a minute to notice that the pain in her head had faded from throbbing to a dull ache. It was obviously just the change in position that had eased her headache, but a new thought ran through her head. It was the epitome of cheese and she would deny even thinking it until the cows came home but for the briefest of moments, Emma wondered if somehow her mom had actually kissed it better.