Thank you all so much for all the wonderful reviews on the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one!
Laura frowned as she heard a knock on her bedroom door. She put down her make-up brush, calling in the visitor. Frank moved unsteadily into the room. He was sweaty, a blanket draped about his shoulders. He looked at her with unfocused eyes.
"Mom," he croaked. "I don't feel well."
Laura abandoned her make-up, moving toward her son. She rested her hand on Frank's forehead and felt the heat radiating from her boy.
"Oh, you are burning up. You poor thing."
She carefully guided Frank across the room, sitting him on her bed. Within moments, he had a thermometer in his mouth and a glass of water in his hands.
"There's a bug going around school," Frank explained sluggishly. "Some sort of flu-y thing."
"Yeah. Definitely seems like some sort of flu," Laura said.
Frank managed a limp nod. Laura combed back his dark hair and sighed.
"You do look miserable."
Yet she could see he had at least tried getting ready for school. While he was still wearing his pyjama bottoms, he had pulled on a regular t-shirt. Gently she took her son's arm, saying they should get him back to bed. Frank groaned as he stood, holding his head.
"Let's get you back to bed and then I'll call the school. I'll call into work and do some jobs at home. I don't like the idea of leaving you alone when you are so unsteady on your feet."
Frank tried to protest but Laura wouldn't hear it and he didn't have the strength to carry on for long. Soon he was sitting on his own bed, his mother helping him replace the t-shirt he had pulled on with his pyjama top. She helped him manoeuvre into his bed, straightening the covers around him as Frank let out a weak sigh.
"You get some rest," she instructed. "Call if you need anything."
Joe was in his room. Laura thought it best to call in on him. When the boys had been younger, neither could get sick without the other catching it. Fenton had always joked they were just so keen on sharing with each other but Laura had loathed the stress of having two children under five both throwing up or burning up.
Joe was fully dressed, throwing textbooks into his school bag. He looked exhausted, skin pale.
"Oh, Joey, you aren't looking so good," Laura told him.
She reached out to place her hand upon his forehead and Joe flinched back like she had gone to slap him. He stared at her in a fresh, horrified shock.
"I'm fine," he told her.
He did not sound fine.
"Perhaps you should take the day off school," she said.
"I am fine," Joe returned.
He slung his school bag over his shoulder and hurried from the room.
Almost as soon as they saw Joe, Iola and Biff were concerned. Joe looked barely there as he sat at his desk in homeroom, eyes unfocused as he tried to watch the teacher take attendance. He had a sheen of sweat on his forehead, half slumped over his desk.
"You really shouldn't be here," Biff said. "Go to the office and get home.
"I'm fine," Joe told them. "Just didn't sleep well."
"This is more than a bad night's sleep," Iola told him.
She glanced toward the teacher at the front of the room. She knew Joe didn't exactly get on very well with his teachers. A good number of them seemed hyper-aware of his past and were determined to ensure no one could claim they were unable to look after him. However, this avoiding of public scrutiny meant that Joe felt like the teachers has taken against him because they were doing all they could to ensure he didn't get a chance to stand out from the crowd. She didn't think Joe would take well to her telling a teacher about that state he was in, even if she truly believed he would be better off at home. He would see it as her betraying his trust in his 'enemies'.
"It's just a cold," Joe said.
Iola and Biff were keen so say more but the bell rang, hurrying them off to lessons. Joe got up quickly, unsteady on his feet. Then he hurried toward the door. Iola and Biff raced after him.
Iola cautiously watched over Joe through first period and Biff dedicated himself to the cause of trying to convince the young Hardy to go home.
"Most kids would be leaping at the chance to have time off school," Biff said.
"Not me," Joe replied.
Biff frowned, asking why. They didn't talk much about the school Joe had been to before moving to Bayport. In fact, Biff wasn't entirely sure Joe had gone to school. He just had presumed because most people went to school and Joe was too bright to have not had some form of education. But it didn't feel like something he could directly ask about either.
"I just want to be here, okay?"
"Okay," Biff said.
He didn't want to get Joe worked up and upset. With Joe clearly as sick as he was, Biff didn't want to make things worse. He supposed the best-case scenario was Joe getting through the day and then going home to face Fenton and Laura who would no doubt do all they could to convince him to stay off until he was better.
With the bell for the end of class ringing, Biff tried to suggest he and Joe linger in the classroom until the chaos of the corridors died down a bit. Joe didn't need to be buffeted about in the crowd. But Joe wasn't listening to him. He hurriedly packed his bag, standing up.
Immediately Joe began to topple. Biff turned just in time to watch his friend begin to fall. He reacted like lightning, catching Joe and lowering him slowly to the floor. There were shouts from about the room as other members of their class realised what had happened. The teacher hurried over, staring down in shock at Joe.
The blond's eyes were closed and an unsteady hand had moved to his head. Joe let out a weak groan as Biff assured him it was okay.
Laura Hardy had received some horrific phone calls in her life. She had received phone calls telling her that her husband was in the hospital, calls telling her Frank had disappeared from somewhere he was meant to be.
A phone call saying her youngest had been hit by a car and they couldn't find the body.
Her phone recognised the number of the local high school. Laura knew what the call would be about but the hint of panic in the receptionist's voice as she told her that Joe had collapsed.
With Frank asleep in bed, Laura hurriedly scribbled him a note in case he woke up before she came back. The school's receptionist had assured her that Joe was once more conscious and communicating so Laura hoped she wouldn't be long, just picking up her little boy and getting him home to bed where he should have been all alone.
Joe was sitting in the nurse's office when Laura came in. He was wrapped in a blanket, wearing a jacket underneath. He looked pale and unsteady, eyes struggling to focus onto her as Laura entered the room.
"I'm sorry," he managed.
He tried to stand up and the elderly nurse sternly pulled him back onto the bed he had been sitting on. Laura had had to pick up Frank several times from that bed and the nurse knew the Hardy family very well.
"Besides his flu, he's okay. Young Mr Hooper stopped him from hitting the ground hard," the nurse reassured Laura. "But he should not have been at school."
"I'm sorry, he was insistent on coming," Laura said. "You know what the boys can be like."
Thankfully the nurse did know. She helped Joe to his feet, firmly telling him she didn't want to see him back at school for at least the next three days. Joe nodded, too weak to try to fight her, and a bout of nausea swept over him. Laura collected her boy close, doing her best to support him.
"Let's get you back to the car," she said, softly.
Laura tried to make their journey home as gentle as possible. Joe sat in the passenger seat, head resting up against the door frame, seeming only somewhat aware of where he was.
"What is so wrong with being sick?" Laura asked as they got underway.
"Nothing," Joe muttered, pulling his jacket around him to stave off shivers.
"Then why were you so determined to be at school?" the mother pressed.
Joe said nothing, instead letting out a shuddering breath.
"I wouldn't have minded picking you up. No one would have been upset. Frank is old enough to look after himself for a few minutes even while sick. Making yourself collapse-"
"Are you going to send me away?" Joe whispered.
Laura turned sharply out of shock. It almost made her swerve.
"Why on Earth would you think that?" she gasped.
Joe shifted in his seat. For a moment Laura thought he was going to shut down, just stare out of the window. But he cleared his throat feebly.
"Because you and Fenton don't have another house to stay in while we're sick."
"Joe, I'm really confused."
She pulled over at the side of the road, reaching over to place a hand against Joe's forehead. He was just as hot and clammy as Frank had been that morning but his shivers were far more violent.
"Because you have jobs. You can't risk catching what we have," Joe told her.
A part of Laura wanted to ask more questions but Joe's blue eyes were beginning to slide closed. She told herself that getting him rest had to be her priority. She needed to get him back to his bed.
"Get some sleep," she told him as she started the car up once more. "I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you. We can talk when you're awake."
Joe was briefly awake as Laura guided him up the stairs, helped him get some pyjamas on. She had tucked him into bed, brushed blond hair out of his eyes and left to get him a drink. He was sleeping by the time she went back up the stairs.
As she quietly shut Joe's bedroom door, Frank came out of his room, blanket over his shoulders.
"Is he okay?" Frank asked.
"Same bug as you," Laura told him. "How are you feeling?"
"Dizzy," Frank asked.
Laura noticed that one of his hands held the blanket in place around him while the other desperately gripped the doorframe.
"Let's get you back into bed," Laura told him. "I don't need another one of you collapsing."
"Collapsing?" Frank managed, alarm filling his face as his eyes landed upon Joe's bedroom.
"He's okay," Laura promised.
"Can I see him?"
Laura thought about saying no. Frank was a young man. If he did collapse, she might have some difficulty moving him back into bed. But she knew he wasn't going to be able to relax until he saw Joe. She nodded, linking arms with her elder son. Then she guided him forward, matching her speed with his shuffling steps. They stopped in the doorway to Joe's room, taking in what little pale skin and blond hair they could see sticking out from the cocoon of blankets Joe had hastily created around himself. A small smile flickered across Frank's face.
"Can I sit with him a bit?" Frank asked. "Promise I won't wake him."
Joe was drawn from his sleep by a gentle hand on his shoulder. He let his eyes peel open, seeing night had closed in. Laura was standing over him.
"I've gotten you some broth," she said, reaching out to smooth his ruffled blond hair.
Joe felt like a child as he shifted into her touch.
"Are you feeling up to eating?" she asked.
"My hands are shaking," Joe croaked.
Every part of him was shaking. He felt so cold even as he felt sweat settling over his skin.
"I can help you," Laura said.
Any attempt to turn her down was stopped as the alluring smell of chicken broth made Joe's stomach rumble hungrily. Laura carefully helped Joe into a sitting position, letting him lean against her as she began to help him eat the broth.
"Frank came to visit you," Laura told him. "Gave him quite a scare. Gave me quite a scare too."
"Sorry, Laura," Joe whispered.
Laura shook her head, saying that he didn't need to apologise. He'd made an honest mistake.
"But you seemed to think that you would be sent away if you stayed home sick. That is not going to happen but... I need to know why you thought it would. You said something about me and Fenton working?"
"You can't get sick," Joe said. "You have jobs."
There was a quiver in his voice like he was about to cry. Laura knew it was likely the illness tearing down his defences that made him feel like crying but there had to be some emotion behind it.
"Why would us having jobs matter? People get sick. My boss would understand and Fenton has people on his staff who can take up a case for him in case he gets sick or injured."
Joe took a large spoonful of broth. He struggled to swallow it, holding Laura's gaze to make it clear he had a reply to give the moment he could.
"The Bramptons said they couldn't afford to get sick. They'd… Go to their penthouse while I was sick."
"Leave you home alone? For how long?"
"Days," Joe wheezed. "Twelve when I had the flu."
"Oh, Baby," Laura cooed, drawing her son closer.
She could only imagine how upsetting that had been for her boy. To have to stumble around the house alone, knowing his parents had abandoned him. What if Joe had been more seriously ill than they had believed? Or if he'd taken a turn while trying to cook himself something to eat? Laura could tell her son was not a sickly child. In fact, Frank rarely got sick and if Joe was anything like him she really couldn't imagine Joe getting flu two years in a row. The idea of a twelve-year-old or someone even younger being left home alone for any length of time…
"I thought if it was just Frank who was ill, maybe you would stay because it was just one of us you needed to avoid."
Laura shook her head, saying she wasn't planning to avoid either of them.
"You're my boys. I want to do everything I can to help you get better. You, your father, Frank… Even your aunt Gertrude. You could all be sick and I'd stay right here, doing all I can to help. You're stuck with me."
She laughed gently at her final words, smoothing down her son's hair again. She lingered as Joe finished his broth, talking to him about nothing important. Joe seemed more than content to listen though and Laura couldn't help but imagine Joe had never got to experience that growing up. He had probably never had a parent calmly sharing their day with him, just talking to fill the gap because they wanted to be by his side and nothing more.
As Joe swallowed the final spoonful, Laura carefully guided him into laying back in bed, tucking the covers in around him.
"You get some rest. I'll be right outside," Laura told him, moving across the room.
"Can you stay here, Mom? Just until I fall asleep?"
Laura froze by the door. Her heart was hammering in her chest. He'd called her Mom. It wasn't the first time, she knew that. But it was the first time he truly sounded like he meant it. Before it had been almost begrudgingly, done out of politeness. For the first time since he had been four, Joe had actually spoken to her like he saw her as his mother.
Laura had no idea if Joe was going to remember what he said in the morning but she knew she was going to remember it forever.
"Of course," she said, turning to him.
She pressed a kiss into his hair before offering to read to him.
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