George felt about like a sailor on a ship for the first time. His stomach was rolling around like the boats that crossed the lake to Hogwarts first year. Pressing his head back into the couch, he hopped that the nausea would pass soon. Though if experience was anything to go by, he still had another twenty-four hours to go.
"Daddy," a small voice croaked.
Blinking his eyes open blearily, he spotted Roxanne on the floor, tugging on the leg of his sweat pants. She was paler than usual, her normally rich golden brown skin a lighter beige, and there were dark purple circles under her hazel eyes. Usually, her curls were done up in some kind of puffs or braids or intricate pony, but today Angelina had pinned them away from her face with small butterfly clips. Careful not to upset his stomach more, George reached down and scooped the one and a half year old into his lap, tucking her securely into the crook of his arm.
"Sick," she mumbled.
"I know, baby," he said. "Me too."
Turns out Freddy going to school wasn't the most exciting thing in the world. He'd barely been there two months before he brought a stomach bug home. He'd been puking most of the night and had stayed home from school the next day to go to St. Mungo's. Angelina had taken him, so she'd been the next one to come down with it. With both his wife and his son sick, George had taken the week off from work to care for them. Merlin, it had been awful, Angelina retching loudly while Freddy cried from how bad his stomach hurt. That had been Monday. It was now Thursday, and George and Roxanne were the last to get it.
"George, have you . . ."
George cracked an eye open at the sound of Angelina's voice. She was standing in the hallway that lead to their rooms, a pair of shorts on and one of his 'G' jumpers hung loosely around her. Despite being sick, he couldn't stop his mouth from tugging up slightly. He loved seeing her in them. Her braids were pulled up into a bun on top of her head. Angelina strode into the living room, reaching them in no time with her long legs, and sat down gently next to him.
She and Freddy had gotten over thier sickness by Wednesday. Lucky prats.
Angelina leaned her temple against the couch. "How you feeling, sweetie?" she asked Roxanne.
"Sick," she said weakly.
George glanced down at her again to see her little eyes closed. She was getting more green by the second, and he wouldn't have been surprised if she vomited soon. Angelina seemed to agree with him because she picked up the small empty trash can that was by the couch. Over the past week, they'd invested in trash cans all over the house because they'd quickly learned making it to the toilet wasn't always possible.
In a few moments, Roxanne bolted upright, her eyes wide. Angelina just managed to put the can in front of her before she was retching pitifully, her small body shaking with the effort. George rubbed soothing circles across her back, the best he could manage in his current state. When she finally finished and lifted her head, her little hands were gripping the edges of the can so hard her knuckles were white. Tears were streaming down her face and she sniffled.
"Sick," she repeated faintly.
"I know, sweetheart," Angelina said, running soothing fingers across Roxanne's forehead.
"C'mere, baby," George said, tucking her back into his side and gently wiping her mouth with the arm of his sleeve.
"She needs to go to St. Mungo's," Angelina said, setting the trash can in the floor.
George grunted.
Roxanne had already closed her eyes, seemingly no longer interested in talking to them.
Angelina reached up and ran her hand through his sweaty hair. "And you need rest."
"I am resting," he protested. He'd done nothing today, but sit on the couch, either chucking up his guts or sleeping.
She chuckled. "I'm going to get ready and take her. I'll bring Freddy along, too, since he's feeling better."
"I'll go with you." He started to rise, but soft hands on his shoulder kept him in place.
"I appreciate the offer, love, but it's probably best if you stay here."
"I'll be fine. I can-"
"George," she said sternly. "You look as pale as Ginny did when she got that concession playing Quidditch."
George raised an eyebrow. "It can't be that bad."
"Let me take care of this, Georgie."
With that, she was gone, rising and heading back to the bedroom, no doubt to get dressed. George couldn't bring himself to stand up and follow her, and Roxanne's weight pressing against his side gave him yet another reason to remain on the couch. Best not to disturb her, after all. When Angelina returned, she was still in his jumper, but had replaced the shorts with a pair of jeans. Freddy was trudging along behind her, his arms crossed. George imagined he was just as thrilled with the idea of going to St. Mungo's as George would have been could he have mustered up any feeling at all.
"Roxanne," Angelina said, running her hand over Roxie's head. "Honey, we're going to St. Mungo's."
George pressed the arm that wasn't holding Roxanne back into the couch to push himself up. Once again, Angelina put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from rising. There was amusement dancing in her eyes mingled with concern. With less than a little grace, he flopped back on the couch. Just setting up had zapped him of energy.
"I can take her," Angelina said. "You stay here and rest, baby. We'll be back before you know it."
She picked Roxanne up and rested her against her hip. The poor baby didn't even open her eyes, just laid her head on Angelina's shoulder.
"I really don't care to go," George said.
"I know you don't, love, but you're sick and you need rest, too." Angelina bent down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Now sleep, and I'll let you know how it goes when I get back."
After grabbing Freddy's hand, Angelina headed for the door. She threw one last smile George's way before she disappeared. Five minutes of sleep might do him some good. He'd sleep and be good as new by the time Angelina got back. With that thought in mind, he closed his eyes.
A/N: You could say my own bout of stomach flu inspired this chapter. Needless to say, George was not good as new when Angelina came home. In fact, he was still asleep and let him sleep for another four hours before he got up.