Sunday, Marsh Residence. It had been a few weeks since Shelly caught a cold and Stan had to take care of her needs. And today, the roles were reversed. It was a sunny day outside, all of Shelly's friends had gone to the pool and all she could do was to sulk inside the house, lamenting that she had to spend the day home watching over her sick brother.

Goddammit, why did the turd have to be sick just today? Now I gotta stay here and play the nurse while the girls get to have fun!

That was what she thought to herself while she carried a glass and a jar of water from the kitchen to his room, huffing in exasperation along the way. Then, a memory emerged from inside her mind, and she stopped in her tracks and exhaled slowly to calm herself.

But he helped me when I was sick, so I guess I owe him this much, she reasoned.

Shelly then resumed her path towards Stan's room to bring him the water he had earlier requested. She climbed the stairs and opened the door. Once passing through it, she reached Stan's bed, where its owner was resting. He looked pale, with bags under his eyes, his nose was runny, and his voice was hoarse. She placed the jar and the glass on the nightstand beside the bed.

"Here, your water." She announced.

"Thanks, Shelly." He replied with his raspy voice, then coughed.

Shelly then pointed to some medicine on the nightstand, close to where she landed the jar, showing her concern in the only way she knew.

"Don't forget to take your pill."

Stan quickly complied. He took one pill from the pack, put it in his mouth and drank some water to help gulp it. Shelly was now satisfied.

"Well, if this was all, I'm on my way." She turned around to take her leave.

"W-Wait!" Stan stopped her.

"What?" She barked. "You're not gonna ask me to take you to the bathroom, are you?"

Both of them remembered the previous experience, and weren't any interested in repeating it. Stan would rather make an effort to go to the bathroom himself or put his ass outside the window.

"No, it's not that. I… just wanted you to make me some company."

Stan's request caught Shelly by surprise. Stan actually wanting her to stay by his side was a very rare occurrence.

"Wh-What do you mean? You want to just stay here doing nothing and catching your cold?"

Stan grunted. "It's too dark in here, my head hurts, the room looks like it's spinning, and my ears are buzzing with the silence. I'm withering here."

He sighed to demonstrate how isolated he was feeling.

"I'd rather keep looking at you and hearing your voice. I'd feel more at ease."

What the hell's this turd saying? Shelly was at a loss of words. Stan wanting to "look at her and hear her voice"? Not in this universe.

"W-Well, I can't stay here! There's a show I wanna see and it's gonna start soon!" She hastily retorted.

Stan grunted again. "So the TV's more important than your brother?"

"Hey, don't go guilt-tripping me, okay?"

However, the guilt-trip had an effect. Shelly now couldn't bring herself to leave Stan alone after hearing his plea. She scratched her head and looked around the room, thinking of a solution.

"All right, I'll just…" She then had an idea. "I know. I'll take you to Mom's room. There's a TV there."

"Mom's room? Won't she get mad?"

"I'll bring you back before she arrives. She won't even know."

It was settled. Before Stan could say anything else, Shelly placed her arms under his body and lifted, blanket and all.

"Here we go."

Shelly carried Stan through the door she had left one, being careful not to hit his head on the wall. She traversed through the corridor and reached the door of Sharon's room. She opened the door and, upon entering the room, placed Stan, still covered on his blanket, on the side of her bed.

"You comfy?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"Good." She then went around the bed and laid on the other side. Picking up the remote, she turned on the TV in front of them. Her show hadn't started yet, but she was fine with waiting.

"It's not too loud, is it?" She asked, again showing her special kind of concern.

"No, it's fine. It's fine."

Stan was comfortable enough, with Shelly at his side and the sound of the TV relaxing him. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted into sleep.

Shelly noticed her asleep brother. At first she paid no mind to it, but then, in a gesture of mild affection, she placed her hand on his arm. She wasn't sure of what drove her into it, but it was comfortable for her, and that was good enough.

Evening. Sharon returned home after spending the whole day outside. The first thing she noticed was that the living room was empty, and she could see from there that the kitchen was empty as well. She concluded that her children would be upstairs.

She climbed the stairs to check her son. She peeked through the door that Shelly had left open.

"How are you feeling, Stanley?"

She voiced her question, but noticed that there was no one on the bed to hear it.

"Stanley? Where are you?"

She then checked the bathroom, assuming that he would be there cleaning himself or using the toilet. Nope.

Sharon now headed to the room of her oldest child. She opened the door.

"Shelly, do you know where Stanley is–?"

The room was empty as well. Where could they possibly be? The nervousness inside Sharon started growing. Now there was only one room left to check.

Sharon opened the door to her own room and spotted Stan and Shelly, both on her own bed. They were asleep, Shelly still in her everyday outfit and still holding Stan's arm.

She knew she should be angry at them for invading her space, but seeing the two of them being so close to each other, demonstrating such a level of care that they were even sleeping together, was just too precious for her to disturb. She grinned.

"Guess I'll sleep on the couch tonight."

She slowly closed the door and left the sleeping siblings by themselves.