Uncle Trent Returns
As predicted, the injections combined with oral antibiotics, Tylenol and Motrin knocked Clay right out. When Derrick joined Sonny in the living room for Bud Light and football, Catherine took the slushie into Clay who was already fading fast in Sonny's big bed. The sight of the clearly sick and worn out kid, turned on his side, rubbing his sore bottom with one hand while clutching Jason's old high school hoodie in the other immediately brought out Catherine's mothering instincts.
Climbing up next to the boy, Derrick's wife helped Clay maneuver himself so that he could curl up against her side, slowly drinking his slushie while she wrapped him in her arms, rocking him gently. Once he had finished most of his drink, Catherine took the cup from his hands and set it on the nightstand before it ended up all over the fresh sheets. The former Navy lieutenant continued to hum softly and rock her adopted baby until she was confident he was sleeping soundly.
Catherine stayed another hour watching an old repeat of Charmed on Sonny's Hulu. She was confident that Clay was down, but she was comfortable, buzzed from the beer, and happy to hold her favorite kid while her husband and his longtime friend and brother watched football in the next room. When the episode ended, Catherine slid out from under her boy, kissed his warm forehead, and carried the near empty slushie out to the kitchen to empty it in the sink.
"You got the baby down?" Sonny asked from his recliner in the living room.
"Did you have any doubt?" Catherine asked, reaching out to pull her husband up off the couch.
"Absolutely not," Sonny chuckled. "You most definitely have the touch when it comes to corralling and settling Trouble."
"Derrick," She said. "Go check and make sure his fever is down. He still feels warm, and I don't want to leave until I know he's settled for the night."
"Yes, Derrick" Sonny said, standing to stretch out his back and clean up the empty bottles. "Get on that. I don't want him waking up, pissing my bed and hollering in Yiddish or some crazy shit like that."
Catherine turned to Derrick with a confused, 'what the hell is he rambling about now' expression on her face. "Hollering in Yiddish?" she said, looking over at Sonny skeptically.
"Long story," Derrick waved her off, digging out his thermometer and heading toward the bedroom.
"Don't wake the sleeping dragon," Sonny warned.
"Yeah, yeah," Derrick grouched. "You know, my long-suffering wife and I have already spent the afternoon and evening cleaning up your fucking mess, Sonny. Maybe you should see how you do taking a sick kid's temp without waking him."
"Uh, no thanks," Bravo Three grimaced. "You can figure that out, Dr. Derrick."
"No arguing boys," Catherine scolded, swatting Sonny's ass as she walked by removing the ashtray and other evidence of smoking. "Don't make me stand you both in time out."
"That's right, don't be a whiny bitch, Derrick," Sonny laughed. "I forgot to tell you the good news. Jason says to clear your Saturday night. He's taking the three of us and Grumpelstiltskin out for steaks and drinks on him at Chops as reparations for dealing with his sick brat while he's schmoozing with the One Percenters in Boulder. And no kids allowed. He's sending Trouble off with Brock and his young bride for age appropriate fun on the Boardwalk. So it will be a peaceful, motormouth free evening."
"Ooh, that sounds like a good time," Catherine smiled, wrapping her arms around her tired husband's neck and kissing his cheek. "I can wear that new red dress I bought myself for my birthday because someone forgot until the last minute."
The thought of a hunk of beef, lobster and drinks on Jason's tab perked up Alpha Three. He lifted his wife off the floor and planted a kiss on her lips. "I most definitely did not forget anything, baby. I told you I wanted the giant bouquet of roses and the late night dinner to be a surprise. I totally wanted to make you think I forgot, but I was all over it."
"Uh huh," She scoffed, putting on her jacket. "Just don't annoy me, and get your ass in there and check on the kid who we both know pulled your chestnuts out of the fire by cluing you in since my baby, unlike my husband of twenty years, remembered my special day."
"I absolutely did not forget anything," Derrick laughed, pointing back at his wife and Sonny as he walked down the hall to make sure Clay was settled for the night.
Sonny decided to spend the night in his comfortable recliner enjoying the last few bottles of beer and some late night pay per view. He had gone in to check on Clay a few times, but felt the risk of waking the sick kid was not worth laying down next to him in his new bed. Sonny made sure he was tucked in tight in the center of the mattress to avoid any late night falls before feeling his forehead, cheeks and neck to assure himself there was no spiking fever.
Bravo Three was dead asleep in the recliner with the TV playing softly in the background when he was awakened suddenly by the sound of panicked yelling coming from the bedroom. Immediately alert, Sonny rushed back to his bedroom hoping not to find a replay of the previous night's drama. Turning on the hall light and pushing open the partially ajar bedroom door, Sonny's eyes immediately tracked from the empty bed to the hysterical kid who was standing by the bedroom window.
The longtime tier one operator automatically assessed the situation calmly.
Clay was holding onto the windowsill, looking into the darkness as if he were waiting for someone to arrive. He was clearly upset and calling out desperately for Trent. At the sound of Sonny pushing open the door and entering the room, Clay turned to face him with tears running down his flushed face. Sonny was relieved to see that his kid recognized him and appeared to be awake and not caught in a dream as had happened on more than one occasion since he was unceremoniously deposited on Bravo's doorstep.
"Sonny," he cried out, desperately. "Trent is gone. I think something terrible happened. I don't know where he is."
Not unfamiliar with Clay's meltdowns and crazy dreams, or the nightmares of brothers in general, Sonny was not overly alarmed. He was more concerned about waking and pissing off his neighbors than not being able to eventually settle down a scared kid waking from what seemed to be an obvious nightmare.
Assessing the current situation calmly, Sonny was pleased to see that both the kid and the floor appeared to be dry, and he was clearly speaking English, so no pissing or hallucinating to handle. The older SEAL approached his boy, slowly but confidently, projecting authority and control over this scene.
"Hey there, tiger," Sonny said, moving to get closer to the kid before reaching out slowly to rest his strong, calloused hand on the side of his boy's soggy, hot face. "Oh, you are a literal hot mess there."
Reaching over to grab an old white undershirt he'd tossed on a nearby chair, Sonny moved his hand to the back of Clay's head and used the shirt to mop up the hot tears and snot running down his kid's face.
Clay stood still, reaching up to clutch his current babysitter's forearm in a grip that the older man thought might leave bruises. He stared up at Sonny, who was cleaning his face and continued to ramble loudly.
"Sonny, you need to find him. I don't know where he is. It's so dark - where are we?" Clay cried out, more tears falling.
"Hey," Sonny said, sternly putting the dirty shirt over his shoulder and moving the hand not being held by his confused kid up to hold the other side of his face, effectively stopping his movement. "I need you to stop yelling and calm down. Now."
"I'm scared, Sonny," he cried, still desperately clutching his strong arm. "I can't find Trent. I want Trent to be here."
"Clay. I want you to look at me, and stop talking," Sonny said, firmly. "You and me are gonna slow down and relax. Here we go - breathe in and hold it."
Sonny was patient and firm. After a few shaky minutes, he had them both breathing evenly, standing together, in the dark room.
"That's better, honey," Sonny said, his tone considerably softer. He was aware that the kid was still holding tight to his forearm, working hard to obey his trusted uncle. "How about we take a stroll to the bathroom so you can do some business before there are any accidents. Then, we'll get you spruced up a little before we check to see just how high a temperature you've cooked up tonight. That sounds like a plan?"
"Sonny," he whimpered quietly. "My belly and legs are aching, and it feels bad down there. It's gonna hurt if I try to go."
Sonny put his arm around the sick kid, giving him a squeeze and a kiss on his hot forehead before leading him toward the bathroom.
"I know you're sore and uncomfortable. And I know it burns and hurts to pee," Sonny said, sympathetically. "And dumb ol' Uncle Sonny is so sorry I didn't do the right thing and make you get that shot today so you would be feeling better tonight. But we are going to get you fixed up and back on the right track with some good medicine first thing in the morning, which according to my watch is only a couple hours off."
Once in the bathroom, Sonny deposited Clay in front of the toilet, lifted the lid, and motioned that he should take it from there.
Knowing that Sonny was not going to let him out of the bathroom without emptying his bladder, Clay hesitantly did as he was told.
"Ow, Sonny! It really hurts," he sniffled. "I swear I'm not faking."
Sonny sighed from where he was standing guard in the doorway in case the kid tried to make a break for it. "I believe you, runt," he said, sadly. "And I know this is my fault. If I could take myself to the woodshed, I would do it."
Flushing down the dark, scary looking mess he'd just pissed in the toilet, Clay turned to walk into his grumpy uncle's safe arms.
"It's not your fault, Uncle Sonny," he said, softly. "I acted up like a baby because I didn't want a shot. And I lied to you and the doctor to make you feel bad. My butt wasn't even sore anymore at the infirmary. I was just being a brat. I'm sorry."
Sonny held the kid who was burning up with fever in his strong arms and gently rubbed his back. He shook his head, thinking to himself that this kid was killing him. He loved him so much.
"You acted up like a baby because you are still a baby, sweetheart," Sonny said. "And being able to assemble and shoot a sniper rifle or speak Russian like fucking Putin doesn't change that. No matter what the Navy or the CIA try to sell. I'm a grown ass adult, and the boss trusted me to take care of you. If Trent had been there, you would have gotten that shot no matter how much you fussed and fibbed. And I shouldn't have taken the easy way out. And the doctor who is also an adult paid to deal with pain in the ass teenagers and twenty-somethings damn well should have known better as well."
"You know I love you, right Sonny?" Clay asked hesitantly, looking up at him with dark circles under his red, puffy eyes. "I'm sorry I was such a terrible brat and gave you a hard time after Jason left. I don't know why I do that."
"All kids are terrible brats sometimes," Bravo Three chuckled. "But Uncle Sonny loves you anyways. So how about you sit your little tail down on this seat so we can check that temp?" Closing the toilet seat, Sonny sat the kid down and rummaged through his medicine cabinet until he came up with a thermometer.
"Damn, Heat Miser," Sonny said, nervously. "If we can't get you cooled down asap, we're gonna need to get Derrick and his fever shot back over here."
Clay just shrugged, not even bothering to protest getting another shot, which made Sonny more concerned than if he had pitched a fit.
"Sit tight, Shorty," Sonny said, ruffling his hair before heading out the the kitchen and returning with a bowl of cool water and a washcloth. Taking out a towel, Sonny motioned the kid to follow him out into the living room. "Come on, Clay. Have a seat there on the couch. We're going to get you dosed up with the Tylenol Motrin combo and cool you down with a nice sponge bath."
After swallowing his medicine with an orange Pedialyte chaser, Clay allowed Sonny to strip him back down to his briefs, submitting to the cold scrub down with limited wiggling and squealing. When that was done, Sonny patted him dry with the towel and got him laying down on the couch, shivering in just his drawers, and curled up resting his throbbing head in his much-loved uncle's lap.
Once he was cooled down and more coherent, Clay seemed to suddenly remember what woke him in the first place.
"Sonny!" the kid said, sitting up and turning to grab hold of the older man's t-shirt.
"Woah there, hot stuff," Sonny said, surprised. "What are you yelling about now?"
"Sonny," he said, getting worked up again. "Where's Trent? I had a terrible dream. I'm afraid something bad happened to Trent."
"Calm down, honey," Sonny brought back the firm voice. "How about you sit here nice and still with Uncle Sonny, drink your orange sugar water, and quietly tell me what has you all shook up."
Sonny lifted his arm as he had witnessed both Jason and Trent do countless times in the past when their boy was upset for one reason or another. As expected, Clay turned to immediately retreat under Sonny's strong arm, curling against his trusted protector's side seeking comfort and safety. Pulling down a light blanket from the back of the couch, Bravo Three covered his shivering kid and held him close in his strong arms.
"Now that's better, baby," he soothed gently. "How about you tell Old Sonny this crazy dream you cooked up in your hot little noggin?"
"I don't remember everything Sonny," Clay started, softly. "But, I remember it was really scary."
"Okay," Sonny said, rubbing his head. "What was so scary?"
"Trent was gone. I think he was on a mission or something, but I can't remember exactly where he went," the kid continued, holding tight to Sonny's leg.
"Now, right there we know this dream can't be right, goofy," Sonny said lightly. "What would Old Grumpelstiltskin be doing off on a mission without us?"
"I don't know, Sonny. I can't remember everything, but he was definitely gone and we were here I guess," Clay said. "So I wanted to call him and tell him to come home, but Jason said no."
"Why's that?" Sonny asked. He moved his hand down to hold and gently squeeze the kid's cold, bare foot which was currently pulled up close to his body in an attempt to either warm himself up or squeeze as close as possible to his current bodyguard.
"Jase said that I was being a brat," Clay explained, getting upset just retelling the tale. "He said that Trent was busy doing an important job and he couldn't just come home because I wanted him."
"Hmm. I can't imagine where this dream came from," Sonny said, shaking his head and rubbing the kid's foot. "Did he come home? Because somehow in the non-dream world, you always manage to get Uncle Trent where you want him."
"No Sonny," Clay said, sitting up and turning to face him. "Jase wouldn't let me call him, so I snuck into Brock's cage and left him a note to meet me and Corey at the Arcade."
Sonny chuckled. "What now?" he said. "Why would you need to sneak into his cage? You parade in and out of everyone's cages like you own them. And how did you and dog boy's little brother even get yourselves to the Arcade? This dream is wacky, not scary."
"It's not funny, Sonny," Clay said, getting worked up. "The scary part is coming."
"Okay, honey," Sonny said, kissing his head and pulling him back in close under his arm. "Let's relax and not get upset over a dream. I was just teasing you. What happened next?"
"I asked Brock to call Trent and tell him to come home because Jason said I wasn't allowed to call him," Clay said.
"Oh well now," Sonny said. "That did take a scary turn. It sounds like you decided to put your little fanny right dead in the danger zone going behind the boss's back and asking Brock to do something for you that Jason said was a no go."
"I knew I was gonna be in big trouble with Jase," Clay said. "But I didn't even care because I thought something bad was going to happen and I wanted Trent to come home. I thought he might get shot or something."
"So, did he come home?" Sonny asked, holding his shivering boy tight.
"I think he was coming home," Clay said. "I can't remember exactly, but I was waiting for him. It was so dark, and I didn't know where I was. And for some reason I thought something terrible happened and he was never coming back, Sonny."
The waterworks started, and Clay was in full motormouth, rambling mode.
"Shh, Baby," Sonny soothed, pulling him into his lap and rocking him gently. "It was just a dream sweetheart. I promise, it's not real. You know that."
"But where is he, Sonny?" Clay cried.
"Clay," Sonny said, pulling him back to make eye contact. "Calm down, honey. Trent is most definitely not missing, or on a mission. He is in Backwoods Redneckville, Alabama with his family. And you know that. His daddy had surgery, and Trent went home to stay with his mama who was all nervous and worked up. But Jason talked to him yesterday on the phone. His daddy is fine. The surgery was good, and Trent is hanging out with his family until his mama and daddy are all settled. Then he is coming right back home to you."
"Are you sure Sonny?" Clay asked, rubbing his eyes.
"I am positive, Clay," he said firmly. "You need to settle down and relax before you get your fever all spiky and Derrick needs to jab your little butt twice to bring it down."
"Do you think he'll be back soon?" Clay asked, trying to calm himself down.
"I don't know for sure," Sonny said. "But I do know that Jason is calling Trent to tell him about your nasty bladder and the infirmary trip. So you and I need to prepare ourselves for an epic lecture from the old worry wart when he calls today."
"I don't care if Trent yells at me," Clay said, still huddling against Sonny. "I just want to know he's safe."
"Well, I can end that suspense now, kiddo," Sonny soothed. "Trent is fine. You are the one that's got me nervous here. And I think we need to get Derrick out of bed to check you out because an hour shivering in the infirmary waiting room is something you most definitely do not need."
"Please don't take me back there, Sonny," Clay said softly.
"That's gonna be Derrick's call, runt," Sonny said seriously. "And this time, we are gonna do exactly what Alpha Three tells us is the best way to make you feel better. Zero nonsense. Got it?"
Clay nodded, closing his eyes. "Yes, sir."
An hour later, just before dawn, Sonny was in his little kitchen making coffee in anticipation of Derrick's arrival. The kid was sleeping restlessly on the couch, still wrapped in the blanket, one pair of skivvies short of naked.
Sonny was expecting to see Derrick and his med bag when he looked up from his seat at the counter hearing his door open. Bravo Three was temporarily shocked to see not only Derrick, but Bravo's very own resident miracle worker and baby tamer, none other than Trent Sawyer himself, walking in as well.
Recovering quickly and visibly relieved, Sonny stood up with a wide ass grin.
"Well, this is typical," Derrick grouched, shaking his head at his longtime brother and fellow medic. "This one has had me running damage control since you skipped town and Jason made the highly questionable decision to put Uncle Buck here in charge of Dennis the Menace."
Both SEALS entered the small apartment, dropping their bags near the door. Derrick walked toward the counter to get himself some coffee. Trent went directly to his boy. Crouching down next to where Clay was currently squirming and whining in his sleep, Trent reached out to rest his rough hand on the kid's hot forehead.
Derrick continued his grouching.
"He gets me out of bed at the buttcrack of dawn to sort out the kid for the third time in less than twenty-four hours. And now, his heart is all aflutter like a virgin on prom night because you decide to stroll back into town unannounced to save the day. Does this mean I can go back to bed at least?"
Sonny recovered from the surprise of seeing Trent materialize out of nowhere and turned to put his arm around Derrick's shoulders.
"Oh, come on now Pretty Boy," Sonny teased. "Don't get yourself all in a sulk. You know we love you too. This is a day of liberation for us both. Now Trent can wrap up the baby and cart Trouble home to his place where he will no doubt coddle and scold him back to his old naughty self before the boss flies back into town on Friday."
"Speaking of Jason," Derrick said, looking over at Trent who did not appear happy to find his kid near naked and shivering. "Did he call and order you back here? And how is your dad doing?"
"Why the fuck is he not dressed, Sonny?" Trent asked, annoyed.
Derrick snorted, searching Sonny's cupboards and coming up with some cookies Catherine had bought for the kid.
"If the kid being naked is pissing you off, buddy," Derrick said, "You may want to pace yourself. Wait until your little snitch there tells you what Uncle Sonny pulled at the infirmary yesterday morning."
"Oh, I already heard about that shit show," Trent fumed. "And no, Jason did not bother to tell me the kid is sick. My dad is doing fine. The surgery went well and my sainted mama is fussing over him as we speak, I'm sure."
"In the boss's defense," Sonny said. "He promised the kid he was going to call and update you this morning. He wanted to make sure everything was good on the homefront before he got you all hot and bothered about this one." Sonny nodded toward the kid.
"So if Jason didn't sound the alarm, what made you drive all night to get back here to your baby?" Derrick asked, confused.
Trent gave them his patented look that said, 'Are you serious right now?'
"The other brat squealed to Mama," Sonny laughed, shaking his head. "No shocker there."
"Brock called you?" Derrick said.
"I called Brock yesterday to check on him and Clay after the surgery when I was sitting around in the waiting room avoiding my crazy sister," Trent said. "I thought the kid was at his place binge eating pizza and staying up all night on the PlayStation with Corey."
Sonny went back into his room and emerged with the kid's sleep pants and t-shirt, tossing them over to Trent.
"Yeah," Sonny said. "Things went south with that plan shortly after you left. Clay decided to pull a Clay and smartmouth the boss. Jason had enough and canceled party time at Brock's place. He grounded the brat and sentenced him to a week of lockdown with yours truly."
Trent managed to get the kid dressed without waking him. "Yup," he said, sitting down next to his sick kid and rubbing his back gently. "Brock spilled everything. Said the kid pissed off Jason and got himself grounded. Then after the boss flew out, he decided to challenge Sonny to see how far he could push and got his ass promptly wore out for the first time ever by our resident fun uncle. Then the mayhem continued with a high fever and post-meltdown trip to the infirmary where The Mighty Quinn was brought down by a kid playing the 'I'm so sad and I might need surgery because my mean uncle gave me a spanking' card."
"Yes," Derrick chuckled, finishing his third cookie. "Your ace reporter has once again done an admirable job of keeping you in the loop. The squirt here is most definitely the master chief of troublemaking, but I have to say that Brock has the edge when it comes to sneakin' and snitchin'."
"So, where are we now, Derrick?" Trent sighed, still rubbing the kid's back. "His fever has clearly spiked."
"Well, brother," Derrick reported. "Sadly, we are pretty much back at square one. Yesterday was basically a wash. The oral Macrobid didn't do squat other than provide us with front row seats to the kid's puke and shit show. The oral Tylenol and Motrin couldn't keep his fever down, so last night I called the infirmary and confirmed with the doctor on call that it was okay to stop the Macro, hit him with the fever shot, give him the Rocephin he should have had yesterday morning, and start him on the 14 day course of Cipro."
Trent shook his head, staring down Sonny, before turning back to Derrick.
"So why is he still in this condition if you did all that last night?" Trent said, shushing his restless, squirmy kid who had yet to wake despite the morning sunlight and the talking going on around him.
"Well," Derrick reported. "I hit him with the fever reducer and an antiemetic last night, and he was back down to 99 and sleeping soundly when Catherine and I went home just before midnight. Sonny called early this morning to say the fever was spiking, so I was just arriving to ruin the kid's day with three shots, including the Rocephin which we know will make him howl." Derrick paused to take another cookie.
"The infirmary doc said to hold off on the Rocephin until morning because he had just had a dose of Macro and he was concerned about over-medicating him," Derrick continued.
He went to his bag and handed Trent a sealed packet with three injections and a bottle of pills.
"I stopped on base after I dropped off Catherine last night and got the Cipro filled, so he's all set to start that today." Derrick said. "Your call, but I'd definitely give him another shot of the antiemetic because his stomach was not liking the oral meds yesterday. And we know if he pukes the Cipro, there's going to be more antibiotic shots in his sore little tush."
"Grab me your thermometer," Trent said, turning the kid and holding him still. "I want to check his temp while he's still out. I assume Sonny gave him Tylenol and Motrin this morning when his temp spiked, so I'm concerned he's still so heated."
Derrick cleaned and handed the thermometer to Trent who quickly and efficiently tugged down the kid's pants and got his temp without waking or upsetting him.
"He's still at almost 103," Trent said, shaking his head at Derrick. "What do you think? Take him back into the infirmary to have a doctor look at him again. Or hit him with the shots, a cool bath, get something in his belly and put him to bed for the day."
"I'm gonna say taking into consideration how miserable he'll be, sick and waiting to be seen at the infirmary," Derrick started. "And the fact that they already diagnosed the bladder infection and okayed the Rocephin and Cipro for today. I'd go with Door Number Two."
"I agree, brother," Sonny said. "He cooked up a wild nightmare and woke up crying that I needed to find you because you were off on some secret mission and something terrible might happen to you. He's gonna be so relieved that you're back. And we all know that you're capable of doing what they would do at the infirmary with far less upset and a lot more patience. We know what his problem is. What he needs now is some love and coddling from Mama Trent to get him settled and sorted."
Trent gave Sonny the stink eye. "And you don't want me to make you face the music and hold him down at the infirmary while he fusses and pouts his way through the poking, prodding and needles you should have manned-up and made him power through last night."
"Yes," Sonny nodded. "And there is that also."
Derrick laughed.
"Sonny's right this time," he said, patting Bravo's giant pushover on his back. "What the baby needs is some alone time with Uncle Trent in the calm, peace and quiet of Casa Sawyer. A couple days of getting loved and spoiled by the only consistent caregiver he's ever been able to count on, and the kid will be on the mend. And if the Rocephin and Cipro don't do the trick, you can take him into the PEDS ER in Norfolk and let someone whose job is sick kids decide what to do next. But I really think he just needs you to get him calmed down, medicated and tucked in on your couch with a slushie and a tummy rub to make him feel better."
"Alright then," Trent said, rubbing his hand down his face. "Sonny, pack up his stuff while I wake and get him semi-coherent. I'm going to load him into the truck and take him home with me. I'll wait on the shots until after I give him a bath and get him cleaned up and settled down. He'll hit the wall and sleep like a rock until probably tomorrow morning if I know my kid."
Sonny gathered up his clothes, books and the snacks Catherine had brought over in hopes of enticing the kid to eat. He packed it all up in his book bag and set it by Trent's bag while the medic got Clay up and moving around.
"Hey there, honey," Trent said, sitting down next to the kid and rubbing his cheek. "Come on, lazy. I drove all the way home from Alabama because I heard my favorite kid is not feeling so good."
Clay sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes and looking completely confused and in need of a bath and hair washing.
"Sonny?" Clay said, squinting against the light and looking around for his current guardian without noticing Trent sitting by his side. "I think I hafta pee again. It feels like I'm gonna go."
Sonny came over to join them. "If you're about to pee yourself, Shorty," Sonny said. "Get off my couch and into the bathroom before we have another accident on our hands. Trent will help you."
Trent pushed back Clay's messy hair, resting his hand on the kid's head to keep him still and make eye contact to focus his attention.
"You with me there, buddy?" Trent said calmly. "Did you miss me?"
Suddenly realizing that Trent, who he had been wanting to come home, was actually there with him, Clay was overcome with unexpected emotion.
"Trent!" he cried out, his eyes watering. "Where were you? I thought something bad happened to you. Sonny said you were okay, but I didn't believe him for sure."
Clay leaned forward, wrapping his arms tightly around his much loved caregiver's neck and holding on like Trent might disappear if he let go. He was shaking and crying and begging him not to leave, promising to be good.
"I'm sorry I was bad, Trent," he rambled, still holding the medic tight with his face buried in his shoulder. "Please don't go without me."
Unfazed by the confused meltdown, Trent took his shaking boy in his arms, holding him tight and rocking him slowly.
"Shh, sweetheart," Trent soothed calmly. "You're okay. I'm not going anywhere without my favorite kid. Shh. Take a breath and hold it for me. You're okay, honey. I'm here, and everything is going to be okay. I promise."
Derrick tossed over a box of tissues and a bottle of water.
Gently forcing him to sit back so he could get a better look, Trent pulled out several tissues, handing them to Clay and indicating he should clean up his face and blow his nose. After he had his face mopped up and his breathing semi-settled, Trent guided his boy forward, allowing him to rest quietly on his firm chest while he rubbed his back and resumed the gentle rocking.
"I have to get going into work," Derrick said, picking up his bag and stopping to softly stroke Clay's messy head. "Uncle Trent is back, kiddo. And I have no doubt you will be feeling a lot better soon."
Looking up at his trusted neighbor without lifting his heavy head from the chest of the uncle currently holding him in his arms, Clay smiled softly at him.
"Thanks for taking care of me Derrick," he whispered, hoarse from the sudden crying. "Tell Catherine I love her and thanks for the slushies last night. They helped me feel better. And the pancakes too."
"I will pass that message on to your number one fan, honey," Derrick said, winking at the kid and heading for the door.
"Thanks again for everything, brother," Sonny said sincerely. "Me and Trouble here would have been up Shit Creek without a paddle if we didn't have you and your pretty lady to save our bacon. Isn't that right, runt?"
Clay nodded. Yawning and clearly exhausted, he curled up closer to the man currently holding him. "Uh huh," he whispered, closing his eyes.
"If I don't see you two before Jason gets back, Catherine and I will see you on Saturday." Derrick said, waving to Bravos Three and Four on his way out the door.
"What's happening Saturday?" Trent asked Sonny quietly, still rocking the half-asleep boy in his arms.
Sonny sighed, shaking his head at the sight of the kid curled up in their medic's arms like a worn out fourth grader. "Well earned payback from the boss for dealing with the blond Tasmanian Devil on his way back to sleep in your lap."
"Come on, baby," Trent said, forcing the kid to stand and get moving. "Sonny's right. You almost fell back to sleep on us. How about you empty that full bladder you were telling us about and put on your shoes. You can nap in the truck."
Trent led the groggy kid back to the bathroom and got him standing in front of the toilet. The medic winced in sympathy when Clay cried out his displeasure at the obviously painful effort it took to get his bladder emptied out. The sight of the kid's bloody, foul-smelling urine told Trent everything he needed to know about how sick this infection was making his boy. He knew it was going to take time and effort to get Clay feeling better and back to his sweet, talkative, busy self. But as always he was committed to doing what needed to be done. And Trent would most definitely not be leaving his boy's side until he was good as new.