Multi-Fandom One Shots

The Hand Dealt (Diane Sherman)

Chloe Sherman was this little ray of sunshine you met while in the fifth grade. Chloe had been in first, but some of her peers bullied her due to the rash perpetually on her back and the breathing issues did little to help. For more than a few months, you'd looked after the young Miss Sherman at school. She became your best friend; granted you didn't have many. She was the sweetest thing who never judged and was super booksmart so she didn't need tutoring. She did need a good doctor, though, as she begun developing more illnesses. She started passing out, sweating profusely. She found it hard to stand after classes or lunch, or recess if she sat or swung on the playground. Her worried mother pulled her from school because of it and started homeschooling Chloe. 

You rarely saw her after that, only visiting when you could convince someone else to drive you. Once comfortable with you, Diane drove. Diane Sherman was Chloe's overprotective mother. She was a saint for all she took care of. Not only basic mothering, she had to deal with a million symptoms without one good reason why. And she kept a garden, a job, cooked for three when you were around. It was a lot all at once, and all of the time. You would have been an overstimulated mess, but Diane shouldered it all gracefully. And to be Chloe's friend, you had to understand all of her illnesses and how to deal with one when it acted up. You kept an inhaler in your purse. You had her lotion at your house for when the two of you were in town and she needed it. You got strong enough to carry Chloe, but it didn't help you and the saint saw that. Chloe was extremely light and actually very easy to take care of, because she knew how to help and let you when she felt she needed it. She was very independent and clever, but still so innocent. From your shared youth, you five years older, Diane saw how you were treated. Well, she saw the signs Chloe didn't. 

The three of you often went into town together, this time for an afternoon movie, lunch, then you'd cut the time Diane usually spent at the grocery store in half by doing the actual grocery shopping while Diane waited in line at the pharmacy in the store. She said that took the most time. But she was cool and she made a day of it for you two. Chloe would be moving on to middle school subjects, taught by her mom, and you were entering High School. It was an exciting summer that had to end. 

You pushed Chloe in her chair so Diane could hold her hand. They both equally needed it, the devoted mother in a bit of pain herself. Up the cement ramp then the one installed by the movies, at Diane's hysterical behest, you were seated in the theatre. 

But what apparently no one got was that the outer most seats were where the wheelchair could go. A heckler from behind started to shout forward, "Hey, take a seat. We can't see back here, big head." 

Both yours and Diane's blood boiled, Diane already turned to face him. But poor Chloe shrunk into her chair. She was already tiny, a ten year old who couldn't really exercise and her growth rarely showed except at regular physicals by her family physician due to her permanently seated position. 

"There's plenty of other seats, douche-bag," you called back, trying to avoid a big scene. You didn't like confrontation or loud noises. Depending on the movie, you could seek comfort in Diane, so she knew about this aversion and did her best to accommodate. Chloe didn't like being considered a problem either. Oh, her two broken girls who needed her to protect them from the cruel, cruel world. The kind woman took both of your hands, her thumb rubbing soothingly into the backs. You suppressed a shiver, and thought that was the end of the issue... until a piece of popcorn was thrown at your shoulder. It definitely caught your attention, startling you to flinch. 

"Oh, zip it and just tell the kid to sit down," they barked. 

Diane was on her feet, spun around in an instant. "She is sitting. Has been all her life," she snapped.