I'M DYING 4: FLU MISERIES
Chapter 2
"No! I'm too good-looking to die!" Pietro wailed.
"Yeah, right." Lance snickered.
"I'm gonna kill Toad for giving me his crummy germs!"
"How do you know it wasn't the other way around?"
Pietro just glared at him.
"Maybe we should take you to where Toad is, so you can get better," Fred suggested.
"Where's Toad?"
"They took him to the doctor at the X-Geeks' mansion. I guess they ask less questions than a regular hospital."
"WHAT?!!"
"Look, we don't have a choice, okay?" Lance had no patience for the speedster's hysterics. "We don't have money for a doctor. It's that or . . ."
"I don't want them messing with my mind!"
"Like that would take much work," Lance muttered under his breath. Pietro heard him anyway.
"If I could get up," he growled, "I would hurt you."
"Hey, it's not my fault you're a dweeb."
"Nobody says dweeb anymore."
"So sue me."
"Should we take him or not?" Fred demanded.
"What'll the Boss Lady say?"
"We can't wait around for her! By the time she comes home, he could be dead!"
"Let's just hope she doesn't kill us when she finds out." Lance said finally.
"Who's killing whom?" Wanda said. She had been in the kitchen doing her homework. "Oh, no. What's wrong?"
"I'm dying," Pietro groaned.
"No," Lance said, "he's not dying. Don't fall for that. He's such a hypochondriac . . ."
Pietro glared at him. "I am not!"
She had to laugh. "You know you are!"
"No, I'm NOT!"
"Nobody can yell that loudly and be dying," Lance said. "You're just bored."
"I--AM-- DYING." Pietro insisted.
He made a strange gargling noise after the last word, and suddenly . . . "BLLLEAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHH!"
He managed to completely miss the basin beside him. However, he hit the floor dead center.
"Maybe he is dying," Fred said, looking down at the mess. There sure was a lot of it. Nobody could eat that much, could they? Except for—
"Get a mop," Wanda instructed.
Nobody moved.
"What are you waiting for, an encore? Move it!"
Wanda knelt down by her brother's side. "I guess you weren't faking after all. How're you feeling, Boo?"
"Like I'm gonna die." Pietro groaned.
She laid a gentle hand on his forehead. "You're burning
up."
"See?"
"When's the last time you had your temperature taken?"
"Umm . . . never."
She looked at him.
"What? I hate thermometers . . ."
"Well, get over it." She rummaged around in the
medicine cabinet until she found one, and brought it over. "Open up."
Pietro stubbornly clamped his mouth shut.
"Come on!"
Reluctantly Pietro opened his mouth.
She placed it under his tongue and looked at her watch.
"I'll be back in two minutes," she said.
His eyes went wide. Two whole minutes? That was, like, forever!
Worse, he thought he might barf again.
Finally, however, the two minutes were up . . .
Wanda took the thermometer out and looked at it. Then she turned it upside down and looked at it again.
"What? What is it?"
She showed him the thermometer. It was blank.
"What does that mean?" he asked. "Am I dead?"
Then the red digits blinked to life. They flickered back and forth and finally settled on 95.2 degrees.
"It means you've got a chill."
"Huh?"
"Your body is cold because of the flu . . ."
"I don't get it . . ." He would have said more if he hadn't broken into a huge coughing fit at that moment.
Wanda got him another blanket. She didn't like the way it smelled, but it would have to do for now. "We should get you to a doctor."
"Can't I just die here?"
"You're not going to die." She then picked up the phone . . .
"Wait!" said Fred, who was wringing out the mop, but she didn't hear him.
Wanda was already talking to the doctor's office.
"You don't see mutants?" She was in shock. "But my brother--"
"I'm sorry," the voice on the other end of the phone
said. "We don't mean to be biased, but we have no experience dealing with
mutant patients. I wish I could help you--"
Wanda slammed the phone down with uncharacteristic fury. "I'm beginning to
think Father was right," she spat. "They do hate us."
Then she thought of something. "What about that place where we took Todd?"
"The X-Geeks' place?" Lance said, ignoring Fred's
glare. "We can't!"
"Why not? We won't have to waste time explaining everything. Besides,
Todd's already there; they probably expect the rest of us to all get sick
too."
"The rest of us?" Was it Lance's imagination, or was there just the
tiniest tickle in the back of his throat?
"Yeah."
"Maybe we should wait till the Boss Lady gets back . .
." Fred said. Mystique was at school doing her parent/teacher conferences.
Normally the conferences were on Wednesdays, but due to an unforeseen emergency
(involving her car, several gallons of Super Glue, feathers, and rubber
bands—but that's another story), she'd been forced to move it to Thursday.
"We can leave a note for her."
"No, somebody should wait . . ."
"Why am I always the one?" Fred protested.
Finally, Pietro said, "Can we just go before I die?"
"Okay, Boo." She wrapped the blankets around him; they seemed to be helping, as he was starting to feel warmer.
"Why do you call him that?" Lance asked. Darn it, there was something in the back of his throat.
"Well--"
Suddenly the phone rang.
Wanda, handing Pietro over to Lance, said, "Hello?"
On the other end of the phone, a very angry voice said "Who took my pen?!"
"Who's this?"
"You know perfectly well who it is! That was an expensive pen, not some
99-cent ballpoint! I want it returned by the time I come home or--"
"Whoa! Calm down, Mystique!"
There was a long pause. Then Mystique said in a lower voice,
"Somebody gave me that pen. It's irreplaceable. I want it back."
"Okay, I'll get it back. But we're on our way out now, so--"
"Out? Out where?"
"Uh . . ." Wanda realized that Mystique probably didn't even know Toad was sick, let alone Pietro. She quickly filled her in.
"They're both sick?"
"Looks that way."
"Great. This is, what, the fifth time in as many months? Why does this
always happen?"
"Hey, don't yell at me! I'm trying to help!"
"Sorry."
That was something. Mystique had never apologized to them--or, as far as they knew, to anyone--but she had a kind of respect for Wanda.
"Anyway, see what you can do about finding my pen . . ."
"I will." Wanda hung up the phone and said,
"Okay, let's go."
Things weren't so bad here, Toad thought. He'd been here (how long has he been
here?), and no one had tried to dissect him yet. They had taken his temperature
. . . but that was about it.
Their doctor came back in. "Well, that's about
it," he said. "All I can do now is make sure you get plenty of rest
and fluids. Shouldn't be a problem . . . as long as you stay here."
"Don't worry, I ain't goin' nowhere." He had tried getting up
earlier, only to find that his legs wouldn't hold him.
"I just hope you guys got some fresh bugs, yo."
The doctor opened his mouth, but before he could reply
someone came in.
"Excuse me, but . . . there's someone here to see you."
"Who?"
Wanda came in carrying Pietro, who had fallen asleep in the car. "He's sick . . ."
"Not another one!"
(To be continued! Not sure if there will be any romance, for reasons that will become clear later on. Maybe I can squeeze some in at the end. See you soon!)
