Sicktember Day 12: Faking it
Word Count:
Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl
Rating:
Characters: Denny Brosh + Siblings
Warning:
Summary:
Notes: Some headcanons for this: Denny's mother died when he was seven. His father remarried when he was nine to a very lovely woman who loved Denny. When he was ten, his oldest sister was born. Other siblings followed. Approximately a year after the youngest brother was born, both is dad and his step mom were killed in an accident. Denny was about 24 when this happened, already graduated from the academy. He assumed responsibility for his siblings and is working hard to support them.
His siblings are as follows: Barbara (Barb) 15; Caitlyn, 12; The twins, Ainsley and Benjamin (Benji), 6; Fredrick (Freddy), 2

Faking it

"Ohhh."

Denny heard the groan and he waited.

"…OHHHH!"

Denny sighed.

He knew that groan. Or rather, he knew that type of groan. It was Benji, and it was a fake groan. Maybe if he waited—

"Ohhhhh"

Denny hung his head.

"OHHHHH!"

And now Ainsley was in on it too.

"Deeeennnnny! Denny I don't feeeeeel gooood!"

Alright. He was going to have to deal with this.

Denny got up, half dressed in his uniform, and headed toward the twins' room. He pushed open the door. Benji and Ainsley had gotten themselves in the same bed, and had the blankets pulled up. They had done their best to look absolutely miserable.

"What's going on?" he asked as he got in here.

Benji looked at him, poking his bottom lip out. "I don't feel good, Denny."

"Oh you don't?" Denny asked. "What kind of don't feel good?"

"I'm hot. And my tummy feels bad. Ainsley's too."

"Does it?"

"Yeah." He pointed at the garbage can. "See?"

Denny had a feeling he was going to regret this, but he looked in anyway. Was that… oatmeal? With… yeah, he was pretty sure that was fish food in it. He'd give them points for creativity, at least.

"Well, that does look pretty disgusting. Do you think you're running a fever?"

Benji nodded. "Yeah. Look." Benji pulled a thermometer out from under the blankets—where, Denny was sure, he had been keeping it extra warm. Denny took it.

"I see. Any other symptoms."

Benji nodded. "Show him your tongue, Ainsley."

Ainsley opened her mouth, showing her tongue, which was blue. Denny caught sight of candy wrappers on the floor. Well, if Ainsley had a stomachache it was probably real.

"And look—" Benji and Ainsley both held out their arms. Red dots covered them. Red dots that looked suspiciously like marker. A lot like the marker that he noticed sticking out from under the pillow.

"Ah, I see," Denny said. He paused for a moment. What was going on at school that they would both want to miss? Or, more specifically, that Benji would want to miss but could talk Ainsley into missing as well? Wait—wasn't their grade doing presentations today? That was probably it.

"Well," Denny stood up, brushing his hands on his pants. "It seems like you really are sick. I guess there's no choice but for you to say home." He didn't miss the look of excitement that passed between the twins. "Of course, I can't leave you home alone. I bet Mrs. Cook could stay over."

The excitement on their faces grew a bit uncertain.

"And if you're really that sick at your stomach, well, then that means that you'll need to only eat soup and applesauce, just in case." He peeked at them. They looked less certain. "Too bad. There's a festival this weekend I thought we could all go to. But you two probably won't be up for it by then. Or at least won't be up for all the food or the rides."

Dismay crossed Ainsley's face, and she almost said something, but Benji hushed her.

"And of course, there's the presentations at school. I was going to take time off to come see you, but I guess they'll have to reschedule. I probably can't. Too bad. I was going to take you out for a treat afterward. But I guess that does mean I can cook dinner tonight, maybe one of my special recepies. I guess you two just won't feel like—"

Benji threw back the covers.

"Nevermind! I feel fine!"

"Yeah, me too!"

Denny eyed them. "Are you sure? I mean, there is that rash—"

"We, uh, forgot to wash off where were we drawing last night."

"—and Ainsley's blue tongue—"

"I just didn't brush my teeth last night!"

"—and the thermometer—"

"Must be broken!"

"—and the throw up—"

"It was the cat!"

"Oh?" Denny said. "So you're not feeling bad?"

"No!"

"Nope!"

"Ah, well, okay then. Then I'll go back to getting ready. Barb and Caitlyn will take you to school, but I'll come in time for your presentation, alright?"

"Yeah!"

"Yes!"

With that reassurance, Denny left their room and went back to his to finish pulling on his boots and his uniform jacket. Kids were kids, but with five of them he was responsible for, he'd gotten pretty good at catching them fake it.

Besides, he did work in investigations.

Kids: 0. Denny: 14

It'd be interesting to see if they would ever be able to pull one over on him.