Chapter eight

A loud "thud" outside caused Missy to jump up in her seat. She listened for the source of the sound and then she heard what sounded like someone or something banging, and almost scratching it seemed, at the back door. She got up and went over to the door to see what could have been causing the noise. Once she opened the door a very exhausted and nearly frozen Bam collapsed onto his hands and knees by her feet.

"Bam!"

She knelt down and helped Bam up, bringing him inside. He shivered and his teeth chattered as she held her arms around him while walking him to the lounge.

"Where have you been!"

"It's fucking freezing out there!" He said, ignoring her question

Bam sniffed some snot that had run out of his nose, causing Missy to cringe. She had him sit down and then left to get a blanket for him. Missy came back and wrapped a blanket around him and fixed him a cup of tea. He sat there bundled in the blanket and sipping the tea while Missy sat across from him. His skin was pale but his cheeks and knuckles were red from the cold. It was obvious that he had been outdoors in the increasingly colder fall temperatures for quite sometime, having wearing what he had on the day he had left.

"What were you doing outside for so long?"

Bam took a sip of his tea "It's not like I really had anywhere to go. I walked around for a while just to keep warm and then I decided that it would make more sense to just come home."

"Why did you leave to begin with?"

He glanced up at her "I needed to be alone."

Missy sighed a little and then Bam sniffed before going into a sneeze fit. She got up and picked up the box of tissues and brought it over to Bam. He plucked a couple from the box and used one to blow his nose.

"Just… just how long were you outside?"

Bam shrugged his shoulders "A couple days I guess."

"A couple days!"

"Yeah. Found a nice spot and I slept on the grass. It got so cold at night. It really sucked." He said as he wiped his nose on the tissue

"You're crazy. I can't believe you slept outside."

"Why not?" He looked at her "I'm crazy aren't I? You just said so yourself."

Bam began to sneeze again and then Missy moved closer to him. She placed a hand on his forehead and then moved away.

"Bam you're burning up. I'm putting you to bed right now."

He nodded his head and stood up. She held an arm around him and helped him upstairs to their bedroom. Once in the room Bam crawled into bed and beneath the covers. He closed his eyes and let out a small moan.

"This fucking sucks… I hate being sick."

"Well you're the one who slept outside when the weather is getting cold."

Bam sighed and pulled the blankets tighter around him. He snuggled the pillow close to him and tried to get comfortable. Missy let out a small sigh as she watched him. She couldn't believe how quickly Bam had turned into a helpless child lying there sick in bed.

"You try to sleep. I'll be back soon with some medicine for you."

She turned to leave the room and then stopped to look at Bam again. She thought that he looked so pitiful all curled up in bed like he was. Even though he was sick and she was still concerned about his mental health, she was glad that he had come home.

Luckily Bam wasn't as sick as he could have been. He was able to stay in bed while someone took care of him, which felt good to him. That, of course, was the only thing that made him feel good while he was sick. He coughed, he sneezed, he felt achy all over, he had a high fever, and he often felt cold despite being buried under more than one blanket. Missy came in to bring him medicine, tissues, and when he felt well enough to eat she brought him some food as well.

As he lay there in bed trying to sleep Bam opened his eyes some. He frowned over the familiar sound returning to his ears. This sound was the voices in his head. He thought that he had gotten rid of the voices a couple nights prior as he lay there in the grass that was cold enough to become covered in a thin layer of frost. But now he learned that the voices leaving his head when they did was just temporary.

He moaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow around his head. He hoped that he would be able to block out the sound of the voices bust so far it wasn't working. For a moment the voices grew louder which caused him to close his eyes tight. He whimpered and felt hot tears beginning to form behind his eyes. The voices continued to taunt him but he managed only to keep himself from crying. Missy entered the room on time for the voices to begin to fade away. Bam opened his eyes and pulled the pillow off of his head as he looked at her. She walked up to the bed with s soft sympathetic smile upon her lips and she held a thermometer in her hand.

"How are you feeling baby?"

"How do I look?"

She sighed slightly, not wanting to answer him. She sat on the edge of the bed and held the thermometer out "Bam let me take your temperature."

He let out a little groan before opening his mouth for the thermometer. Just holding it in place under his tongue almost hurt him to do so. He cursed the process in his head until the thermometer beeped and Missy took it out of his mouth.

"Your fever has come down but not by much. You keep the blankets pulled up around you tightly so your fever can break."

Bam nodded his head slowly "Could you bring me a cup of tea?" He said a little weakly

"Of course."

Missy stood up and left the room. Bam folded his arm beneath his head on the pillow and looked up at the ceiling. He hoped right then that the voices he had heard were caused by the fever but he knew better. He closes his eyes to try to get some sleep before Missy brought him his tea he requested. Bam was miserable. He was miserable at the moment mainly because of his illness. He was also miserable because of his mental and emotional state he had been in for quite some time. He cursed himself for leaving when he did because when he thought that leaving would have helped him to feel better, it had actually made things much worse for himself. Not only did he think that he made things worse on himself because he had gotten sick, but he had a feeling that the worst was actually yet to come.