Hello all! doin three chapters in one night cause we kind of got behind.

DISCLAIMER: i don't own any characters who appear

...

Joe's POV

I laid on the couch with my eyes closed, wishing my headache would go away. Me and my family we're supposed to go to the circus today, but I'd gotten sick. I didn't want to ruin their fun, so I'd told them to go without me. I'd told Frank I would be fine.

It's a good thing I didn't look like this when they left, I thought. Frank wouldn't have made it out of the house. He would insist on staying here with me.

My thoughts were interrupted by my ringtone, the new song for the Royal We.

I winced, then answered it. "Hello?"

"Hey Joe. I just saw Frank and three other people that I'm assuming is your family. Where you at?"

"Home," I said wearily. "I'm sick. I told them to go without me."

Richard was silent for a moment.

"So let me get this straight," he said finally. "Your sick."

"Yea," I said, confused.

"And you're home alone. While being sick."

"Well, I guess…"

"I'm coming over there."

"Wait, you don't have to-" click. I stared at the phone in my hand. He'd hung up on me!

I groaned, dropping the phone and flopping on the couch. My eyes drifted closed again, and I fell fast asleep.

…

I jerked awake, my eyes shooting open. I saw a dark figure leaning over me, and I tried to jump to my feet. Unfortunately, I was as weak as a newborn kitten and Mr. tall dark and mysterious was as strong as an elephant. He put a hand on my shoulder and held me down. I startled to struggle against his grip when his voice reached me.

"Joe, calm down. It's me," he said.

I blinked up at him. "Richard?"

"Yea," Richard said. "How you feeling?"

I shrugged. "Sick."

Richard smiled, then reached into the bag he had at his side, pulling out something small. He sat down on the couch, and held the thing out to me.

"Open up."

I looked at the thing, then back at Richard. "A thermometer? Really?"

"Yes, now open up, Hardy."

"I don't thi-mph!" I yelped as Richard shoved the thermometer under my tongue. Then I glared at him. He smirked at me.

"I'm doing this for your own good, kid."

"Yea yea," I mumbled around the thermometer. It beeped, and Richard yanked it out of my mouth.

"100.2. You've got a fever. Thankfully, it's not to high. I'll be right back."

He walked out of the living room, and I closed my eyes again. I heard footsteps, but I ignored them. It was just Richard coming back into the living room.

The footsteps stopped next to me, and I felt something cool and wet being laid across my forehead.

I opened my eyes, reaching up to grab the rag. Richard grabbed my wrist before I could.

"Leave it, Joe. It'll help with your fever."

I sighed, letting my arm go limp. Richard let go of me, then grabbed a blanket from the top of the couch, draping it over me.

"Get some rest, kid," he said quietly. He walked away, and I let my eyes close again, falling fast asleep.

...

Richard's POV

I heard a noise coming from the couch, and spun around in the chair to find Joe standing by the couch, a stupid smile on his face. I could tell immediately that he was a little delirious.

I crossed the room, taking his arm.

"Joe, maybe you should sit down."

Joe laughed. "Whatever you say Dickie!" he plopped down on the couch, turning around so he was upside down. He blinked at me, grinning. "Now what?"

"Huh?"

"Now what do I do?"

"Well, you should probably sit on the couch normally…"

Joe laughed, slapping his forehead and straightening himself so he was upright. "Of course! You don't sit upside down on a couch. I'm such a Potatohead!"

I stared at him, trying hard not to laugh. "What?"

"I'm a Potato Head!" he smiled broadly. "Like when Frank and I were wandering around the desert. I saw a pretty girl and went all Potato Headed! I'm a Potato Head!"

I laughed. "Ok Joe, yea, you're a Potatohead."

"Yay!" Joe cheered.

"Now will you lay down?"

Joe pouted. "Do I have to?"

"Yes," I said firmly. "Hang on, I have something for you." I fished out one of the tylenol pills I'd brought, unwrapping it and holding it out to Joe. "Here. Take this."

Joe's eyes lit up. "Yay! Candy!" he took it from me, popping it his mouth. His eyes drooped a little, and he yawned. I smiled.

"Tired?"

"No! I'm just stretching my jaw."

I laughed. "Sure you are, Joe." I pulled the blanket off the couch, and put it over my arm. Then I picked Joe up, laying him on the couch. I placed the blanket over him, then put the washcloth on his forehead. I turned the lights off, then sat on the arm of the couch. Joe looked up at me with wide eyes.

"Dickie, can you sing me a lullaby?"

I looked down at him. "Well Joe, I…"

"Please?" he begged.

I sighed. "Well, I don't know any lullabies, but I can hum."

Joe beamed. "Ok!" he sank back in the cushions, pulling the blanket under his chin. "I'm ready!"

I started to hum a slow song. I think it might have been beauty and the beat by Justin Bieber. I made it to the chorus, then looked down at Joe. He was fast asleep. I grinned.

"Sleep tight, Joe."

…

Joe's POV

I opened my eyes, my headache gone. I felt good as new. Richard walked into the living room, looking down at me.

"Hey Joe. How ya feelin?"

I smiled, jumping to my feet. "Good as new!"

Richard grinned. "That's great!" he paused. "Joe, do you remember anything from a couple hours ago?"

I shrugged. "I remember falling asleep. That's it. Why?"

Richard smirked. "Because, you were delirious. You were hanging upside down from the couch, and you called yourself a Potatohead. You also told me about a while ago when you saw a pretty girl and 'went all Potatohead.'"

I turned bright red. "Oh man, I did? That is so embarrassing!"

Richard winked at me. "Don't worry Joe, I won't tell anyone." he glanced at his watch. "It's almost six o' clock. I'd better leave before your family gets here." he walked to the door, opening it and standing in the doorway. He pulled it about a quarter of the way closed before he turned to look at me.

"And Joe? That part where you called yourself a Potatohead? I am never going to let you live it down." then he closed the door, and I heard a motorcycle engine rev before taking off. I groaned, flopping on the couch.

"I hate being sick."