NATE'S POV
At around three in the morning I heard a moan coming from down the hall. I knew that moan, it was a sick child moan. Kissing Soph on the forehead and disentangling myself from her arms and walked down the hall. I didn't expect what I found and I didn't like it either. Parker was shaking and her eyes were halfway closed as she attempted to clean up a puddle of vomit off of her carpet. Why wouldn't she just wake me up?
I walked up kneeled behind her and placing my hand on her shoulder I said gently, "Parker, honey, are you okay?"
She whipped around and her eyes instantaneously filled with tears. "I'm s-sorry! I-I didn't m-mean it!"
Oh god Parker. "Come here little one," I said softly, grunting slightly as I scooped her up. We walked into the living room and a wrapped a blanket around her, much as she fought, and went to go wake up Soph.
SOPHIE'S POV
"Nate, let me sleep. Remember what happened last time you didn't let me sleep?"
"Soph, Parker's sick and I'm really about her."
I sat bolt upright in bed. Nate wasn't normally concerned about her because, let's face it, it's Parker. And, on top of that, she never got sick. I swear to god it was like her immune system was made of bloody nails or something. I jumped out of bed and slid on a pair of pants and practically sprinted downstairs to find her fitfully sleeping on the couch and was horrified to hear what I did.
"Please Mr. Patrick, don't touch me there. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get sick. I'll clean it up I promise! No! Don't do that it hurts! Please stop it, I don't like that, please," she cried squirming around. I immediately began to try and wake her up which is easier said than done.
At last about five minutes later I succeeded and right after I did she jumped of the couch and ran into the corner. "I'm s-sorry. I-I'll clean it u-up I p-promise! P-Please don't hurt m-me," she sobbed, flinching when a walked over to her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Finally I got annoyed and scooped the crying girl up on my lap and began rubbing her back gently, "Shhh Parker, it's alright love. Shhhhh, Mummy's got you now, it's alright."
"M-Mommy," she asked through her hiccups, I nodded.
Parker hugged me tightly and promptly threw up all over my back. She tried to run away but I held her tightly still and told her everything was fine before standing and handing her to Nate so I could change.
NATE'S POV
I situated Parker more comfortably in my arms and walked to the kitchen to get her some ibuprofen and some water, thinking that I should probably take her temperature as well. I turned on Alice in Wonderland (her favorite movie, I swear I must have watched at least six times in the past week) and sat down on the couch. I have to admit I was surprised when she snuggled into me comfortably. "I love you Daddy," she told me sleepily.
NEXT MORNING, 8:00 A.M
"So tell me what you've got on a 'Mr. Patrick' Hardison," Nate said from the couch, a sleeping Parker still in his lap.
"Well, since y'all called me last night at 4:30 in the freaking morning, I discovered quite a lot. Full name is Patrick James Dawson, was Parker's foster dad from ages six to eight. After Parker broke her leg 'falling' down the stairs, she claimed he pushed her and refused to go back to his home. A few months after she left his custody he was arrested for child molestation," Hardison said. "Currently he lives on 331 W Salem in downtown Boston."
Eliot stood up and strode towards the door silently. "Wait man," Hardison cried before getting up and rummaging through the closet. "You're gonna need this," he said, handing Eliot a sleek thirty-three inch wooden baseball bat.