Ghost Whispers |-/ Joshler

ail·ing

/ˈāliNG/
adjective
in poor health.

"I don't wanna wake up."

"Come on, Tyler, it's Friday. Last day before the weekend." Madison shook her brother, waking Lillian in the bed next to Tyler.

"I'm not feeling well. Leave me alone." Tyler burrowed deeper in the soft quilt. He didn't wish to leave his bed for school, for food, for anything.

"I'm gonna go get mom." She left Tyler's room in search of their mother.

Tyler lowed into his pillow and wormed around to rid his body of the restlessness in his muscles. His feet shook as the last of it left him, signaling he could repeat the stretching again.

Joshua watched as Tyler did the same thing, both of them being wary of Lillian next to Tyler's small frame.

She spread her paws in front of her as well, lifting her whiskers up higher as she yawned.

Tyler's mom came into his room, dressed in only an old bathrobe tied tightly around her and a pair of sleeping pants.

She took a seat on the edge of Tyler's bed and coaxed him out from under the covers.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" She asked softly. Her hand trailed down the side of his face soothingly.

"I feel sick. My throat hurts and I've had a headache since last night." Tyler whispered.

Joshua knew the headache was brought on by him meeting Abraxas, as the demon had told him of the 'side effects.'

She felt his forehead and clicked her tongue. "You're not warm, but I guess you should stay home. You don't have practice today, right?"

"No."

She nodded. "Alright. I was going to the store anyway, so do you want anything? I'm going to get you orange juice and Tylenol Flu."

"I can't think of anything right now." He answered.

"Okay. Get some rest. I don't want you..." Her eyes wandered over to the paint-covered wall. She didn't know what to feel when she saw what her son had done. "I don't want you painting, Tyler. The fumes are what probably made you sick."

"I've been airing out my room." He added.

"As long as you're doing that, good. Goodnight, honey." She pressed a chaste kiss to her son's clammy forehead and left.

Tyler rolled around in bed until he was lying on his stomach. His mouth buried in his pillow, he shut his eyes.

Joshua laid at the end of the bed on his back. His eyes were on the ceiling and only the ceiling.

He was pondering about what the clocks that Abraxas had tried to tell about were. Clocks for what? The 'game' he was playing with Tyler's soul?

As much as Joshua didn't want to hurt Tyler, he had to go back and see Abraxas. Maybe not today; Tyler was sick and he couldn't take anymore torment.

He really meant it when he said Tyler was and always will be his home, you know. He felt that deep in him, in his very core. It wasn't some mindless words thrown into a sentence in a fit of anger, they actually meant what they said.

Joshua had found a home in this boy's heart. He could only hope Tyler would wake up and reside in his own in turn.

Lillian crawled up over Tyler's back and settled across his shoulder blades. Tyler chuckled.