poor darling

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Coughing and sneezing filled isabellas room. She was down with the flu and she felt like shit. She had a fever, sore throat, she felt nauseous and her stomach was upset.

She was shivering, even though she had a fever. It was one of those feelings, where your skin feels hot, but you feel cold at the same time.

Isabella got out of bed, coughing violently. She tried to play off she wasn't sick...

But it was obvious.

She walked out of the bedroom and glanced at the stairs before leaning against the railing. She looked pale and she felt dizzy.

Ichabod was just about to leave for work. He grabbed his coat off the rack and turned around, his brown eyes locking on his poor daughter.

"Oh my god..." he whispered worriedly as he put his coat back and rushed up the stairs. He placed a hand on her forehead and gasped.

"Jesus... you have a fever... and you look pale. Are you alright?"

Before Isabella could open her mouth to speak, her eyes closed and she passed out, falling forward. Ichabod gasped as he quickly caught her in his arms, trying not to fall back

"Katrina!"

He yelled, his voice filled with panic. He quickly scooped her up into his arms, her head rolling back. He carried her up the stairs and into her bedroom. He carefully laid her down on the bed and moved her hair out of her face.

He rushed to the bathroom and rinsed a cloth with cold water before walking back towards Isabella. He placed the cloth on her forehead.

Katrina rushed into the bedroom and saw her husband tending to their unconscious daughter.

"What's wrong with her?" She asked worriedly as she walked towards them. She saw how pale Isabella was.

"I-I think she has the flu..."

Suddenly, Isabella regained consciousness and her hand flew to her mouth. She quickly got up and zoomed to the bathroom. She fell to her knees and vomited into the toilet. Ichabod and Katrina knelt down beside her, their hearts twisting when she threw up. They didn't like seeing their precious girl sick.

Ichabod held her hair up and rubbed her back as Katrina rubbed her shoulder.

Katrina looked at ichabod and mouthed "don't go to work..."

He shook his head "I won't..." he mouthed back. They needed to take care of their little girl.

"Im not going to work. Seeing you sick breaks our hearts..."

When Isabella finished vomiting, she held her stomach, her body shivering. Ichabod picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down again.

He dabbed her forehead with the cool rag again. Katrina walked Downstairs to go make something that would help her feel better. Ichabod ran his knuckles down her cheek which was warm. He sighed sadly.

"I'm sorry you don't feel well love." He said softly as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on her forehead.

"You still feel pretty hot." He couldn't leave his precious girl. Not now.

Katrina came back with a cup of some sort of liquid in her hands.

"E-everything hurts..." her voice strained as she talked. Her voice was hoarse and sore. She coughed into her arm as ichabod gently rubbed her back in circles.

"Drink this down. It'll make you sleep..." Katrina said softly as Isabella carefully and slowly lifted her head up, drinking the substance that soon flowed down her throat. Seconds later, she was out.

About an hour later, Isabella slowly woke up, feeling a little better. Her head still hurt but her fever was going down and her stomach no longer felt upset. She looked around the room and saw that ichabod walked into the room, sitting down on the bed.

"Hey sweetheart..." he gently placed the back of his hand against her forehead and slightly smiled. "Your fever is dropping. How do you feel?" He asked.

Isabella looked at him tiredly as she held his hand. "M-my throat and head still hurt..."

Ichabod gently moved her hair out of her face and leaned down, kissing her forehead. "Get some more sleep love. I'm not going anywhere..."

Her eyelids started to close as she sighed softly. "I love you daddy..." she whispered before falling asleep once more.

Ichabod gently squeezed her hand as he watched her sleep, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. "I love you too my little cardinal... so much..." 

He knew she was going to get better. It was already showing. He would stay there until his precious little bird got better. He loved her so very much.

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