asmuchasidliketo prompted "If you write another one, how about little Tim dealing with being sick?...he could get flu, I know that even if you get vaccinated you can catch a milder version... just enough that he might feel able to go to work, but is too exhausted to do so, and Lucy sees it."

"Bradford?...Sir?...Tim!"

That gets him to snap out of his thousand-yard stare. He looks down at his rookie with a cocked brow. They have an agreement. She's allowed to interact with him when he's dropped, so long as she still treats him as her superior when they're in the field. Tim clears his throat, trying to keep it as threatening as possible and ignoring the cough lingering in his lungs.

"We on a first name basis now, Boot?"

Lucy quickly shakes her head. "No, sir. Sorry, but I didn't know how else to get your attention."

Tim wipes his brow. "What was so urgent?"

"It's our turn."

She gestures to the coffee truck they visit daily. For once, Tim doesn't make a beeline for it.

"I think I'm just going to pop in that Walgreens and grab a water," he says.

It's Lucy's turn to raise a brow. "You don't want coffee?"

"I had a cup at my house this morning."

"And usually you have about 2 more."

"Are you keeping track of my habits, Boot?"

Lucy shrugs. There's a whisper of a smirk on her lips. "Gotta stay observant, right? Even those who seem friend verses foe."

She's getting too smart for her own good.

"You get coffee, I'll grab my water. Remember, you spill in the car…"

"I'm paying for the detailing."

Tim nods. Once safely inside the drug store, he grabs the water bottle. Then, he heads for the cold and flu aisle. His eyes quickly scan the shelves until he finds his usual. When he woke up with this cough and low-grade fever, he realized he was out. Traffic to get to this side of the city made it impossible to stop before roll-call. Once he gets this in his system, he'll be just fine.

He double checks that his walkie-talkie is on as he approaches the check-out. With his luck, he'll get a call before he can pop the pills and stash them.

"I need ID," the cashier says.

Tim's cheeks flush. He removes his license and passes it over. The older woman pushes her glasses down her nose and squints as she only briefly looks at his birthdate then moves to the other side.

"I'm Level C, ma'am," he tells her. "Legally, I can purchase my own medication."

"Just need to double check, dear." She looks at it another moment before returning the license. "You'd be surprised how many try to skirt the law."

"Even an officer?"

"As I said, you'd be surprised. I've worked here 30 years. I've seen it all."

Tim nods. While she rings him up, he glances out the window. Lucy's already got her coffee and taking large sips. He hopes she doesn't get too hyper today. The ache in his head is enough. Listening to her ramble for 9 hours is going to be hell.

Once Tim's got his plastic bag, he steps to the side and takes the first dose. He quickly ties up the bag and exits the pharmacy. Lucy's nearly done with his coffee when he arrives.

"You don't have to chug it, you know?"

Lucy shrugs. "Easier if we get a call." She glances from the bag to him. "All set?"

"Yes."

The two head for the car. Tim takes 3 large swigs from his water bottle by the time he unlocks the door.

"Do you want me to drive?" Lucy asks.

Tim holds back an eye roll. "What have I told you before, Boot?"

"That I'll drive when you think I'm ready."

"Did I say you were ready."

"Well, no, but…"

"Then why are you asking?"

"You're a little pale, sir."

Tim takes another sip of water and shakes his head.

"It's the sun. Get in, Boot."

She casts him a doubtful glance but ultimately obeys the order.

"Sir?"

This time, it's not Lucy's voice that beckons him. Tim blinks a few times, trying to regain his bearings. The sun beats heavily on his face. He moves his head and lets out a soft whine. It takes a moment for him to realize he's sprawled against the pavement.

Every inch of him hurts as he attempts to sit up. A gentle, yet firm arm grasps onto his own.

"Don't overexert yourself."

"'m fine," Tim insists, yanking away.

He takes a deep breath that melts into a deep cough. His throbbing head ducks into his elbow. When he finally looks up, he finds an unfamiliar EMT knelt beside him. Her kind green eyes gaze down at him. Tim squirms. His face is already on fire. From the sun, only the sun.

"I'm fine," Tim repeats, clearing his throat once again.

"Officer Bradford, you passed out."

Tim looks around the blocked off area. Weren't Nolan and Bishop here? Now, their car is gone.

"They took the suspect." Lucy. Tim squints as he looks up at her. "I said I'd stay here with you."

"How long was I out of it?"

"Just a couple of minutes." She crouches down beside him and hands over his nearly empty water bottle. "Here, drink this."

With shaky hands, he accepts it and drains the last bits. It's not nearly enough to quench the thirst bubbling up inside of him.

"Should I go get him another?" Lucy asks the EMT.

"Let me examine him first."

"I'm fine!" Tim repeats for the third time. "I probably didn't drink enough."

"That's your fifth bottle, sir," Lucy points out.

Tim glares up at her, though he's unsure why. The next thing he knows, she and the EMT are helping him up. He's led to the ambulance. Each step is harder than the last. He can get out of this, if he wanted to. The two of them have nothing on his years of training. But he knows they won't stop fussing until they prove a point.

A male EMT helps him sit on a cot in the back of the ambulance. The woman starts rummaging through her bag.

"I'm sure there are real patients that need this," Tim argues.

The bulkier EMT shakes his head. "Scene is cleared. The victims had superficial wounds and were able to go with no further treatment. Luckily we hadn't left before you decided to take your little nap."

Tim's cheeks burn deeper. The red head returns with some tools. She scans a thermometer across his forehead and frowns.

"102.6."

"That's not possible. I feel fine."

"Of course you are, Officer."

She goes through the motions of making sure there's no signs of a concussion. Once that's cleared, she examines his throat and ears.

"A little red but nothing too bad." She studies him carefully. "I'd guess the flu."

Tim waves the hand that's not clutching his head. "I got my shot a couple of months ago."

"You can still come down with it, same as any vaccine. I'd recommend a trip to urgent care or your primary."

"I don't need urgent care. I've got my medicine in the car. I'll be just fine."

"Sir, I wouldn't recommend you go back to work like this. You're not at your best. In fact, I'd say you're putting yourself, Officer Chen and civilians at risk."

Tim frowns. In spite of the agonizing pain rising through his body, he glares at her.

"Are you questioning my authority?"

The woman doesn't falter. She merely shakes her head. "I'm telling you the truth. Now, you can choose to return to work, but I am obligated to report this to your superior. Especially after I inspected your badge."

Tim has a good half a foot on this woman. Still, he feels about 5 inches tall at this point.

"Sir." Lucy's voice takes over. "I can bring you."

"I can drive," Tim says, pushing himself off the cot. His body sways a bit. The bulkier EMT grabs hold of him.

"You're in no position to do that. Let your rookie take you."

"I…"

"Hey." He lowers his voice so the women don't hear. "I get it. I do. But your pride is not worth your health. Especially if your superior finds out you're putting yourself at risk."

Tim sighs. He always promised Grey he'd take care of himself. It's the most important rule for Littles on the force. They have to watch the signs for regression. Tim doesn't drop while on duty. That also means doing the necessary things to keep it that way. Regressing at least once a week. Taking naps when he can. The most important on the list, keeping up with his health.

He doesn't need to get put on desk duty or worse, suspended, because he wanted to be stubborn. Moreso, he doesn't need Angela lecturing him for 5 hours.

Tim allows the EMT to help him out the back and lead him to the squad car. He manages his own seatbelt and gives him a small thank you. Lucy gets in the driver's seat. There's a small grin on her face as she looks around at the controls.

"You're only doing this today," Tim tells her as she pulls away from the scene.

"I understand, sir."

"I'll go the urgent care on 8th. Doubt I'll get in with my primary any time soon."

"Yes, sir."

Tim leans back against the seat. His eyelids are heavy as he looks out the window.

"You should've told me," Lucy whispers.

Tim turns to look at her. "Huh?"

"That you didn't feel good."

"It's none of your…"

"I'm sorry, sir, but it absolutely is." Even in the midst of the medication wearing off, Tim regards her with a stern glance. "You're my training officer. I'm supposed to have your back at all times, right? Well, how can I do that when you don't tell me how I can help you?"

Tim wants to reprimand her. She can't speak to him this way. He's her superior. He never would've imagined talking to his training officer back in the day.

Yet, the nagging pit in his stomach tells him she's right. He'd expect her to tell him if she were feeling ill. Superior officer or not, he owes her that much.

"You're right, Boot. I should have,"

There's a brief pause.

"I'm sorry."

His voice cracks and tears well up in his eyes.

What if she doesn't want to play with me anymore?

Tim quickly shakes his head. No. He is not about to drop right now. Once he's safely in his house, yes. Not in uniform with Lucy in the driver's seat.

Lucy nods. "I'm not upset," she says, her voice kind. "Just letting you know I'll always have your back. You don't need to hide things from me, sir."

Tim shakes his head, up and down this time. Lucy reaches over and squeezes his arm.

"I'll let Seargent Grey know what's going on, alright? I'll have to leave you at urgent care, but I'll get you settled in first. Then I'll call Angela."

"Don't bother her," Tim whines. "She has the day off."

"I'm calling her. Partially because you need her. The other half, she'd kick my ass if I didn't."

Tim doesn't doubt it.

He can't believe how sad he gets when Lucy has to leave him at urgent care. She only does so after making sure he hasn't regressed and when a nurse promises to look after him. Lucy also kisses the top of his head and squeezes his arm, promising Tim it'll all be okay.

By the time he's gotten the official diagnosis and the nurse is leading him out to the lobby, Angela's strolling in. She wraps her arms around him and squeezes him tight.

"Oh, my poor, sweet nene," she whispers into his ear.

"Sick," Tim mumbles.

"I know, I know. Sissy's going to take care of you." She pulls off a little and squeezes his chin. "Let's get you to my place, hm?"

"Home…"

"Oh, you are not going home, little man. You're coming with Sissy."

She holds his hand as they walk out to her car. Tim's ushered into the backseat and strapped in tightly. Angela pushes back his sweaty hair. He looks up at her with wide eyes and quivering lips.

"Don' be mad," he whispers.

"Not mad, honey bun." She shakes her head. "You shouldn't have gone to work if you felt sick."

"Not so bad before."

"As soon as you realized it was, you should've called Grey. That wasn't safe. What if you got hurt? Or someone else did? What if you didn't wait to drop?"

The tears stream down his warm cheeks. Angela is quick to wipe them away.

"You're not in trouble," she coos. "I know you were just being a very silly boy, hm?" Tim nods. "You rarely get sick. It's been a bit."

"Sor'y." Tim's thumb heads for his mouth. "Ruined your day off."

"Nuh uh, never." She gently brushes his finger away. Her hand swoops into the diaper bag on the ground and pulls out a pacifier with a police car on the front. His puppy lovey is placed in his grip next. "I love taking care of mi príncipe." Angela squeezes his chin again. "We'll be home soon."

Between sucking on his pacifier, his lovey's soft fabric and the sounds of the cars passing by, Tim drifts in and out of sleep on the way back to Angela's. He doesn't wake up fully until she pulls into the driveway. He whines behind his pacifier.

"Oh, I know, I know," Angela coos, looking at him through the rearview mirror. "We'll get you in a bath then some jammies. Once we get some nummies in that tummy, my little honey bun is off to bed."

She guides him inside and to the bathroom. His jelly-like limbs are of very little help as she undresses him. Tim frowns as his uniform is unceremoniously tossed onto the tile.

"M' bag," he whispers. "Locker…"

"Shhh, shhh, Ms. Lucy says she'll bring it by after work. In the meantime, I have everything."

Tim nods. He leans against the tub while Angela lets it fill up. His eyes start closing as he sucks on his pacifier. In a moment, it's slowly pulled from his lips. Tim whines, screwing up his face as tears of exhaustion crop up.

Angela rubs his back. "You can't have it in the tub. It'll get all soapy."

"Don' care."

"You don't, hm? Well, I think you might. Let's get you in the bath."

Tim sways as she scrubs him down. Shivers run down his spine and all he wants is to be cuddled and loved on. Yet, Angela keeps him at arm's length as she tenderly washes every bit of his body.

"I told the front desk to have the pharmacy deliver your medicine," she coos as she scrubs his armpit. "You'll be my good little patient, hm?"

Tim pouts. "Nuh uh. No medicine."

"Yes, you absolutely will take your medicine." Angela fixes him with a stern glance. "Sick little boys need medicine, food and rest to get better."

"Yucky," Tim whimpers.

"I know it doesn't taste great, but it'll make you feel great, hm?" She moves the washcloth to his stomach and pokes his belly button. That brings a small smile to his face. "Let's finish this up."

Tim is even sleepier by the time he's shepherded to his room. Angela diapers him. He expects to have pajamas put on but she reaches into the nightstand and pulls out the container of Vicks. A generous dollop is spread across his chest. The familiar medicinal scent wafers into his nose, clearing him up a bit. Angela swears by this stuff. Tim could have something as minor as a headache and she's spreading it on.

"This'll help the medicine," she says, making sure to get his whole chest. "And I'll get the vaporizer out."

Tim nods. He shivers a little. "Jams?"

"Might be best for you to stay in your diaper, nene."

"Cold, Sissy." Tim rubs his arms.

"That's the fever talking." Tim pouts. Angela sighs. "Okay, how about this? You stay in your diapey but I'll wrap you up in a blanket, hm?"

Tim nods, smiling lazily at the compromise. "'Kay. Sissy so smart."

"I hope you remember that when you're bigger, honey bun."

Tim shakes his head. "Don' wanna be big. Wanna be Sissy's baby brother forever."

Angela grins, pinching his cheek. "Again, I'll remind you of that later. But no matter what, you'll always be my baby brother. My nene." She kisses his forehead.

Once the Vicks is rubbed in, Angela bundles Tim in a lightweight Rams blanket. It's not exactly the warmth of footie pajamas but it keeps him constricted and safe. She places his lovey on top of the bundle of blankets so he can feel that fabric.

"No sleep just yet." She taps his nose. "Sissy's going to get you something yummy for that tummy."

"Sopa?"

"Sí. Wait right here."

Tim fights to stay awake as stares up at the ceiling. The only thing that truly helps is the smell of the soup wavering through the apartment. His tummy grumbles a bit. He can't remember if he ate breakfast this morning. Was the water all he had? His tummy wasn't feeling well when he first got up. He probably should've grabbed something on the way but was in such a hurry.

Angela emerges in the room not long later with a tray that contains a bowl, a bottle filled with light orange liquid and a bib. The latter is tied around his neck.

"Your baba has your Pedialyte, it'll keep you hydrated more than water." She settles that on the nightstand. "And this is from a can. But I'll have some groceries delivered so I can make my abuela's special sopa."

Tim's cheeks flush. "Don't hafta."

"Well, I want to. I'm always gonna take care of you, nene. That's what big sisters do."

Angela holds up a spoonful of soup. Tim opens his mouth. The warm chicken noodle soup soothes his aching throat. Angela makes soft airplane noises all the while, though not as loud as she usually would.

"Uncle Wade called while I got everything ready," she says as she slips in another spoonful. "He says you'll have the next few days off while to get better. I'll be taking care of you."

Tim pouts. "Gotta work."

"This is what PTO is for, for both of us. C'mon, a little more." Tim opens his mouth and tries to move his arms from the swaddle by struggles a bit. "You're staying nice and wrapped up. So, you're not tempted to play."

"TV?"

"You can watch the game later, but you're laying on the couch. No jumping around."

Tim sticks out his tongue, which earns him a brief look. He quickly resumes the position to finish the soup. Once the bowl is scraped clean and Tim's face is wiped off, Angela moves the tray to the nightstand. She climbs onto the other side of the bed and pulls him so his head lays in the crook of her arm. Angela sticks the bottle in his mouth. She holds onto it as he can't. Tim's favorite flavor drips down his throat.

A part of him wants to think of his job. About Lucy having to work under another TO while he's out. Angela taking time off. All the big boy things he should be doing.

But he doesn't want to be a big boy. Not now, not for a long time.

He's a sick baby boy. Sick baby boys need their big sissies to take care of them. Luckily for Tim, he has the best big sissy in the world.

Let me know what you think! As always, feel free to leave prompts or ask me questions! I am on Tumblr and love communicating on there, as well as in the comments.