Title : Fathers and Sons, Chapter 4
Author : Dani Kin
Genre: Drama
Rating : Hey look I finally earn my T/PG-13 with a little swearing
Summary : Being a parent is never easy and family relationships never run smooth. The warden is about the find that out firsthand when an exceptional blue baby comes into his life.
Chapter 4 – The warden has to deal with a sick kid.
Beta : Knock knock? Whose There? Sharelle. Sharelle who? Sharelle's awesome XD
Authors Note: So I worked in food service for a while, but if you've never seen a food service size can, they "have twenty-five servings totaling 13 cups with an estimated weight of 103½ ounces". That's how big the can of peaches are in my head.
Also a note to my international friends : White people in the American Midwest believe that 7up cures everything. It's like the dad with the Windex from My Big Fat Greek Wedding. No lie.
~~~~~~~~M~~~~~~~
He had heard the whole story from one of the guards first thing in the morning and made a beeline for the boy's cell. They were supposed to call him at home immediately for things like this. Fucking incompetent new night staff.
Apparently the boy had not only gotten out of his cell during the night yet again, but he had managed to sneak down to the kitchen without being seen by any of the cameras or guards on sentry duty. There was suspicion that he actually crawled within the duct work. Once he arrived at his destination, he had opened a large food-service sized can of peaches and eaten it's entire contents.
The guards had found him wandering the halls in the dark clutching his stomach and now he was vomiting all over. Jesus.
Once the warden got to the boy's cell he was glad he had left his coat and tie back in the office. Blue was sitting near the head of the bed, looking nauseated and miserable. Someone had been kind enough to bring a bucket which was sitting on the floor between his legs. The whole cell smelled awful. And Minion was fluttering nervously in his ball on the bed, eyes trained on his master.
The boy looked up at him with a frown and watery eyes., and said "I don't feel good" in a sad pathetic voice. Dribbles of vomit stained down the front of his shirt.
"I can see that," said the warden as he came closer.
"He's been sick for hours," Minion fretted at the warden.
The warden sat down on the edge of the bed and touched the palm of his hand to the boy's forehead. He was clammy but not too warm. Good. Then hopefully it was just over-eating and not something worse.
The boy closed his eyes briefly at the contact then opened them wildly and vomited violently in the general direction of the bucket. He mostly made his target, though some of the sickness did splash onto the warden's shoes. So. It was going to be one of those days.
The boy's eyes watered as he vomited, orange chunks of peaches of all sizes flying into the basin. The warden rubbed his back gently as the blue boy continued to spew vomit. Minion rolled over so he was pressed against the boy's leg, trying to get as close as he could.
Eventually the boy's sickness slowed and the warden placed a large hand on his gurgling tummy. He wasn't entirely sure what the boy had done to himself by eating that much, but this was not normal. His stomach seemed distended.
A flicker of real worry reignited in his mind. What if the boy had damaged something internally? What if he was really sick? Well, that made up his mind for him. He wasn't going to do any work today. He would stay here with the boy, just in case.
The warden hated it when the kid was sick. So far there had never been a serious medical incident but that didn't make him any less anxious. The little blue boy had been ill a few times but it was always a short bug. However the first time he had been sick as an infant the warden didn't sleep more than twenty minutes as a time, terrified that the baby might stop breathing in his sleep.
Still, there were serious concerns that surfaced periodically whenever something like this happened. The boy's body wasn't built for life on this planet. There could be Earth germs to which he might have no immunity and there was so much that even the doctor didn't understand about his physiology. There were the possibilities of allergic reactions or anaphylactic shock, or any number of average everyday things which could turn out to be poisonous to the poor boy.
They were never sure what medications would work on him or, in fact, what they would do to his body. And the warden loathed experimenting on the child. That was why he took care of him here, safely hidden inside the prison walls, so no one could try to cut him open or pump him full of strange drugs.
And the more he thought as he watched the boy puke and spit, the more nervous he made himself. He had never seen the boy throw up this much. What if he got dehydrated? Could they give him an IV?
Jesus he hated this. He hated it when he was sick.
He used the cuff of the shirt to wipe the tears from the boys face as well as the vomit from the corners of his mouth once the wave of sickness slowed. He had gotten into the habit of keeping extra shirts in his office back when the boy was still in diapers and he would grab a clean one later.
"I don't feel good," the boy whined at him again once he was able to catch his breath.
"Shhhh, shhh, I know. I know," the warden tried to say in the most soothing tone he could muster to his poor sick boy.
The boy was curling himself into a ball now.
"Can you lie down in bed for me?" the warden asked, and after a beat the boy pathetically lifted his arms up to him. The warden hooked the child under the armpits, slid him into a horizontal position, and laid the boy's head on his pillow. The boy stretched out his legs a bit and looked antsy.
"I need you to rest," the warden instructed and smoothed his hand against the boy's clammy forehead. The child frowned.
"Yes Sir, you need to rest," the fish echoed.
"How about I get you some 7up?" he warden asked gently. He didn't know what else to do for the boy at this point.
"Ok," the boy responded pathetically.
He kissed the boy on his clammy forehead and made sure Minion and the bucket were positioned nearby.
He whistled to the guard down the hall who was quickly dispatched on errand for white soda and a straw. Meanwhile the warden waited until he was sure the boy wasn't actively vomiting, than he rolled up his sleeves and emptied the bucket into the toilet. Finally he rinsed it perfunctorily in the tiny sink and brought it back to the child's bedside.
When a guard returned bearing the soda it was not the same guard he had sent. It was Leroy, a guard that had worked in the prison for years and had known Blue since his first day here.
He came straight up to the Warden and, handing over the cold can, asked bluntly, "How's he doin'?"
"I don't really know. He doesn't have a fever but he is vomiting. A lot," the warden answered with furrowed brow. He opened the can.
"Do you want me to go get the doc?" the burly black man asked his boss.
The warden considered it for a moment before nodding. Leroy turned to go, then changed his mind and walked over to where the boy lay.
"Hey kidlet. Hear you're a master criminal now," he teased him. "Today peach theft, tomorrow you'll rule the whole city, huh?"
The boy gave a weak smile amid the nausea.
As Leroy left the cell he turned back to the warden.
"Some of the guys want to know if they can visit him."
The warden raised an eyebrow. Leroy took his meaning and elaborated.
"The story's goin' around. The escape artists and lockpicks are all bragging on how proud they are of him, but a lot of the guys are wondering if he is going to be ok."
The warden nodded. "I appreciate the concern, but I don't want him to have any visitors today. Maybe tomorrow if he is doing better." The warden kept an even tone and tried to sound reasonable.
Leroy nodded then paused for a moment as though he wanted to say something more. He leaned in close to the warden and spoke in low tones so the boy wouldn't hear.
"Word is that there might be a beat down of the new guy in the yard on account of what he did to the kid yesterday."
Wait - what? Why was he always the last to know about these things? The warden sighed and tried to focus on the situation at hand instead of trying to tease out what the hell was going on here.
"Station extra hands for yard time and let me know if anything happens. But if anyone else asks or calls for me, have Beatrice tell them I'm taking the day off."
"Got it boss." And with that Leroy was gone.
The warden swished the straw around in the can of soda to dispel some of the bubbles before letting the boy sit up and take a sip. The child started to gulp it down and the warden took it away. He didn't need the boy making himself worse. The boy gave him a whiney pout but at least he wasn't actively puking any more.
So this was as good a time to get to the bottom of things.
"Look, I already know something happened yesterday," the warden said frankly, letting the boy have the soda back. "You can save both of us a lot of headache if you just tell me what it was."
"They didn't let me have any peaches at lunch. But I like the peaches," the boy said tentatively, looking from the warden to Minion guiltily.
"Who didn't let you have peaches?"
"One of the new prisoners. He took the bowl right off my tray, Warden," he pouted pathetically.
"So you thought you would sneak down in the middle of the night and make yourself sick by eating a whole can-full," the warden summarized pointedly, crossing his arms.
"We were playing burglar," the boy said defensively.
"Oh so Minion did come with you on this little adventure then?" he asked, looking at the fish harshly. The fish purposefully avoided eye contact with the man, giving him the answer he suspected. "And what do you have to say for yourself?"
Before the fish could respond, the doctor walked in. Fine. The issue of discipline could wait until the boy wasn't yakking everywhere.
The warden hovered, trying and failing to hide his anxiety as the doctor went through the paces of examining his patient. He listened to the boy's heartbeat, ran his hands over his bloated stomach, and checked his throat. Finally he stuck a thermometer in the boy's mouth, then removed it with a simple "hmm". Just when the warden was about to throttle the man, he spoke.
"Well he doesn't appear to have any other illness that I can discern. Just the vomiting. So I'm going to say that it's from over-eating and his system isn't taking kindly to it." The doctor shook his head and chuckled. "Take a breath, Jim. He'll be fine."
The warden relaxed a bit but still wanted to be sure. "Did he... could this cause any permanent damage? Internally?"
"I don't think so," Dr. Patari said. "His body is usually more resilient than the average human being's. We've both seen him walk away from rough housing that should have left bruises or cuts without a scratch on him. I think his internal organs probably function much the same way. But just to be safe I want to keep him on bed rest for the next two days."
The warden nodded along.
"He doesn't seem too dehydrated right now, but I want you to keep pushing fluids at him all day. Even if he doesn't want to drink them. Something simple like broth for meals. And if he wants to sleep let him sleep. Call me if he gets worse."
"How do I know if he's getting worse?" The warden wrinkled his nose.
"If you see a marked increase in vomiting or if you see any blood at all. He's paler then usual and that's to be expected, but if his eyes get glassy or he starts to act delirious, let me know. Also if he spikes a fever or has trouble breathing. Those are your symptoms to lookout for." Dr. Patari explained calmly.
The warden nodded. Those were things he could keep an eye on. "How long do you think he's gonna be like this?"
"Hard to tell," Dr. Patari responded. "If he's still vomiting like this tomorrow, let me know. But I think he'll probably stop by this evening. And even if he seems better tomorrow, I want him on rest and fluids. None of his usual adventures." The doctor turned and stared pointedly at the boy, who was lying on the bed, half-listening. Then the man left.
The warden let out the breath he hadn't noticed he was holding. The boy was going to be fine. He was. He just needed to repeat that over and over again so the knot in his stomach would let up.
Then without warning the little blue boy vomited again. But unlike the last time, it was a far shorter and less messy ordeal. And again the warden wiped the tracks of watery tears off his face when he was finished.
"Hey, how about we go up to my office? I'll wheel in the staffroom TV and we can watch cartoons," he offered.
The boy looked at the fish then asked "Can Minion come too?"
"Of course Minion can come, too. And we'll bring your blanket. And your binky."
The boy smiled weakly.
The warden had been trying to get the boy to give up the binky for weeks now. He usually only let him have it at night, since he was just past his fifth birthday and too old for a pacifier. But this was a special exception.
"And some books? Maybe for later?" the boy asked softly.
"And some books."
The boy looked happier than he had all morning, and the warden helped him sit up, trying not to let the worry show on his face as the child seemed momentarily dizzy. Instead he picked up the nearly threadbare green blanket and laid it across his shoulder. Then he looked around on the bed.
"Where is your binky Blue?" he asked the boy gently.
The boy vomited again and then sobbed out "I don't know" with a ragged breath.
"I think it fell behind the bed, Sir," Minion supplied. His ball was still leaning against the young boy's leg as though he wished he could wrap the child in his fishy fins.
The warden got down on his knees and easily saw it glowing from the corner. He fished it out and wiped it on his pants before putting it into the boy's mouth. The child wrapped his lips around it and sucked weakly, then closed his eyes, clearly somewhat soothed.
Then the warden picked up the exhausted little boy and gripped him tightly. He was getting heavy. Soon he would probably be too heavy to carry at all. But today the boy simply put his head on his blanket and flopped his arms loosely around the warden's neck as the man carried him.