I DO NOT OWN LAB RATS.

Better? Maybe, Maybe Not

Adam, Bree, and Chase were down in the lab training in the virtual simulator. Adam knocked out three robots so far and Chase lifted up a robot with his molecularkinesis and threw it against the wall where it broke apart. Bree used her super speed to tie a rope around two robots. Adam then came over, picked the tied robots up, and threw them down to the ground hard, making sure they broke. The virtual scene went back to the lab again. Leo was at his desk and Donald was laying on top of the control panel to their capsules. Even though he was still sick, he didn't want to be cooped up in his room or on the couch. He wanted to be in his lab. He and Leo, but mostly Leo, were watching as the bionic teens worked hard to take out the robots. When they were done, Leo turned his chair to face them. "Great job guys. You've successfully completed the training that Big D had set for today."

"Yes, and we have a," Bree was trying not to vomit while saying the next part, "great helper."

"Thank you. Thank you. It's all in a day's work." He stood up. "BAM!"

"Okay, okay. We're going upstairs to get away from all," she gestured toward Leo, "that." Adam, Bree, and Chase headed to the elevator and up to the living room.

"Fine! Leave us here!" Donald stirred in his sleep and then woke up. "Oh, I'm sorry I woke you up, Big D."

"That's okay, Leo." He shut his eyes tight and put his hands over his ears.

"Big D, what's wrong?" He winced every time Leo talked.

"My head and ears hurt!"

"Come on. I'll take you upstairs." He pulled Donald up and off the panel.

When Donald walked one step, though, he fell to the ground. "Ow."

"Okay, I see that you need help walking. Come on." He helped Donald up and placed a hand on his right shoulder and left side to stabilize him and help him walk. He walked through the door leading to the living room, trying to support Donald in the process. "Guys, a little help here!" Adam, Bree, and Chase laughed at the sight of Leo trying to support him. "Come on. Big D's dead weight!"

Bree walked up to him. "This is priceless. You're on your own. Come on guys." They headed out the door.

"Guys, don't..." It was too late. They were already gone. "Leave me here!" He shook his head. "Okay, Big D, I'll put you on the couch. Come on."

Tasha came in. "Leo?"

"Yeah?" Leo let go of Donald and he fell to the floor.

"Leo!"

He smiled while saying, "Clean up, isle D." She rolled her eyes, picked Donald up, and put him on the couch.

"Are you okay, honey?" He just responded by clamping his hands over his ears.

"Please stop talking! My ears hurt!"

"Mom, I think that's his way of telling you to be quiet." She just glared at her son.

"Sweetie, please move your hands so I can take a look." He did what he was told. "Hmm, they don't look red or infected from the outside." He just cried out in pain. When he works himself up too much, he tends to... "Donald. Donald, calm down. You're gonna..." She ran and poured the fruit out of the bowl on the counter and shoved it into his hands just as he threw up in it.

Leo just watched in disgust. "Eww! Well, I guess it's better than it going on us."

"Leo!"

"Sorry."

He finished and Leo asked, "Are you done, Big D?" He nodded and Leo went to his room, so as not to cause any more trouble for Donald... for the time being anyway.

"All right, sweetie. I'll clean this out and then take you to the doctor." He nodded.

Later, they were in the doctor's office, and he was sitting on the table while Tasha was in a chair. "Donald, there's nothing to be nervous about. The doctor's just gonna look in your ears and throat, that's all." He nodded, feeling better... a little. If it's not obvious, he doesn't like doctors or hospitals.

A nurse that looked to be in her twenties came in and then shut the door. "Hello. I'm Nurse Linda. I'll be checking your stats before the doctor comes in." He nodded. "Now, just step onto the scale so I can get your height and weight." He did as he was told, and the nurse checked his height first. She wrote his height down on the clipboard she had. "Five foot eight." His weight was next. She adjusted the sliders. "157 pounds. That's a good weight for your height. You can sit back down." He stumbled a bit when he got off and sat back on the table. "Are you all right?"

He didn't want to talk, so Tasha spoke. "He's not been feeling that great lately."

Nurse Linda grabbed Donald's wrist to check his pulse. "How long has this been going on?"

"Almost a week."

She took a thermometer and put it against his temple. "103.5." She put the stethoscope in her ears and put the end on his chest. "Breathe in and out for me please." He took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. She moved it to a different spot on his chest. "Again." He did it again and the stethoscope was then removed from his chest. "Good." The last thing she did was wrap a cuff around his forearm and squeezed the pump in her hand until it was fully tight around Donald's arm. She waited a second before releasing the pressure. She took it off and recorded his blood pressure. "121 over 50. A little high, but still good." She opened the door to go out. "All right, well, the doctor should be in shortly. Feel better."

"Thank you," replied Donald.

Tasha looked up from her book. "Donald, I know you're sick, but the least you can do is act a little excited."

"Why?"

"You're getting your ears checked. You know, when someone's sick, it's mainly pressure in the ears that can throw them off balance."

"I am... totally balanced."

"Please. You haven't been walking straight at all today."

"You... might have a point there." They both chuckled and then a doctor came in.

"Hello there. I'm Dr. Nichols." He sat down on the movable stool.

"I'm Tasha and this is my husband, Donald."

"Well, nice to meet you. Now, it says here that you've been sick for almost a week now."

"Yes, he has. This morning, he said that his ears hurt."

Donald covered his ears again. "Tasha!"

"Hmmm..." Dr. Nichols took a device from the shelf of the desk and turned it on to look in his ears. "It looks like they're clogged."

"Wait, he can still hear, though."

"He can?" Donald nodded. "I'm surprised that he can hear at all."

Tasha asked, "Why's that?"

"Well, he has so much fluid in his middle ear that it's affecting his hearing."

Donald took a breath and exhaled. "So, what can I do?"

"I'm prescribing some ear drops. They should help with the issue. If they don't, come back and see me."

Donald slid off the table and stood up. Tasha got up and put her hand on his shoulder. They walked out of the room, and he said, "I don't need help walking."

She replied sarcastically, "Sure you don't. You've been tripping on your feet all day." He chuckled and she ruffled his hair. They then went to the car and left.