When Terry Gets Sick

Chapter Two: Hallucinations

Rachel managed to drape Terry's body over her shoulder and get him back to the car.

"It's gonna be OK," she murmured, aware that he couldn't hear anything she said.

She made him as comfortable as she could in the cramped space available. "I'm gonna get you home Ter," Rachel assured her friend.

"Bruce," she continued, connecting her miniscule computer to the one in the Batcave.

"Yeah?" Bruce responded, his creased features coming slowly into view. "What happened, Rachel? Terry never lets you drive."

"He's sick, Bruce," Rachel explained. "I'm bringing him home."

"Did the Jokerz do something?"

"No…" Rachel answered slowly. "We just finished securing them for Barbara and her boys and he got sick."

"What kind of sick?" Bruce questioned harshly.

"He threw up," Rachel replied. "Don't worry; he's going home and getting into bed."

"Rachel," Bruce said seriously. "DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT let your personal feelings for him get in the way of your job."

And his face vanished from view.

Batman Beyond Batman Beyond Batman Beyond

Rachel was thankful everyone in Terry's neighborhood worked odd hours. No one was outside when she arrived with Terry. Very slowly she managed to get him fully into her arms and brought him up to the house.

Rachel was at the front door when she realized that Terry had locked it before he'd taken Matt to his friend's house.

"Great," she muttered. "Just great."

Frantic, she racked her brain, trying to remember if she knew where there was a spare.

"R-Rach-Rachel?" Terry spluttered, sounding sloshed. "Why are we here?"

"You're sick, Terry," Rachel told him. "Where is there a spare key?"

"Under the plant," he murmured, pointing. "You smell pretty, Rachel."

Rachel blushed and remembered Bruce's warning. "Can you support yourself for a minute?" she questioned seriously.

"Sure, Rachel," Terry babbled, now seizing a lock of her hair and twirling it around his finger.

Rachel gently took her hair from him and knelt to find the key. Sighing, she straightened herself and turned the key in the lock.

"Time to go to bed, Terry," she said in the patient tone of a mother trying to calm her hysterical two year old.

"OK," he concurred lazily, staggering inside. He made his way upstairs, swaying perilously. Rachel caught him each time he started to fall.

When they reached the landing, Terry managed to get into his bedroom without stumbling once.

"Find some pajamas," Rachel ordered sternly. "Tell me when you're done; I need to take your temperature."

Terry's head lolled back on his shoulders.

"Terry, please just do what I ask. It's going to make you better."

"OK," he echoed, smiling serenely.

Rachel shut the door to his room and leaned against it, half frustrated, half delighted she'd be the one to take care of Terry.

"Poor Terry," she murmured to herself. "Lost his girlfriend and now he's sick. But first things first. I have to get my other clothes."

She kept a knapsack in the car just as Terry did, complete with a tiny First Aid kit and an alternate outfit to the Firewing costume that Bruce insisted was for undercover work.

Rachel crept outside craftily, not wanting to be seen. Her bag was stuffed into a corner of the car, as was Terry's. She retrieved his as well.

Once inside again, she let herself into the bathroom and changed into the bright yellow T-shirt and loose pants. She kept her black boots on.

"Rachel," Terry called in a sing-song voice. "You can come in noooooow."

'He's delusional…'

"Alright, Terry, I think you should get into bed so you can get better," Rachel said patiently.

"Are you my nurse, Rachel?" Terry probed, poking her arm. "You're a pretty nurse."

"I'm your nurse," Rachel agreed, hoping that if she agreed he'd just do what she asked.

"OK," Terry said. "I'll go to bed because that's what pretty Nurse Rachel told me to."

Rachel wondered fleetingly if he really thought she was pretty or if Terry was just delusional and saying whatever came to mind.

Terry had now climbed into bed and was staring at her expectantly.

"Am I very sick Rachel?" he wanted to know.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "Let me take your temperature."

Rachel perched on the edge of his bed and pressed her cool, tiny, delicate hand against his forehead. He had a fever, she was sure.

"Rachel," he whined desperately. "I'm cold."

"I think you have the flu, Terry," she informed him gently. "Is your throat sore? Does your head hurt?"

Terry nodded solemnly. "Yeah."

"OK, get all the way into bed and wrap your blankets around you tightly. I'm going to get a cool washcloth for your head."

"There should be one in the hall cabinet," he said, sounding normal for a split second.

Rachel found the washrag and took it into the bathroom with her. She let it soak in cold water and then wrung it out, water falling from it like a mini rainstorm.

"Here Terry," she said soothingly, returning to her friend's bedroom.

She perched on his bed once again and positioned it on his forehead.

"Thanks," Rach," he mumbled, smiling serenely at her for the second time. "By the way, where are the kids?"

Poor Terry, he must be hallucinating, huh?

I hope you enjoyed!

Queenie