Endgame ⚜ Sweet but Psycho

27. mommy dearest

January 4, 2018

New Orleans, Louisiana 

The Salvatore-Mikaelson Loft 

It was a quiet day in New Orleans; parties were dying down, cleanups were happening; people were sleeping off hangovers. In the loft was quiet also, but they were preparing to see Marcel, who was arriving that day from a trip to Asia. The kids and Silas had made a banner that read 'WELCOME BACK UNCLE MARCEL', finger painting it while Poppy resumed her duties as Queen of New Orleans. She did the simple stuff at the given moment, making sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to be doing, and keeping record of who (of the supernatural type) was leaving and entering the city. Poppy sat at her desk in her office, writing down a list of names of people who deserved recognition for their hard work for the city. Her hair was in a messy bun, which sat on the top of her head, and she wore pajamas. It was a more lazy day, especially since she wasn't feeling too well; she had a bit of a fever, and a cough; and congestion. Her immune system had lowered, so she cought a cold. She mentally kicked herself for being part human. Coughing into her elbow, she leaned back and closed her eyes, setting her pen down on top of the notebook. This was how things were going to be, and she would have to accept that, though the acceptance part was going to be hard. 

There was a soft knock on the door, which after a few seconds it opened and her husband stepped in, shutting it behind him. He frowned at the sight of his wife, who looked tired and sick. Her nose was red, and her eyes were tired. She looked stuffy. 

"Oh, honey," Silas walked to the desk. "You look awful.."

Poppy lowered her hand into her lap and looked up at him. "Thanks, that's exactly what every woman wants to hear." 

The witch walked to stand behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging them. "Why don't you take a break and get some rest? The great contributors of New Orleans aren't going anywhere today,"

Poppy leaned her head back. "You're right." She said, and after a moment she stood up. Tiredly, she walked to the bathroom and cleaned her face, then used a rose quartz roller to help clear her congestion. She went to her room and laid in bed, getting under the blankets and preparing her arm for the IV. 

Silas placed a bag of the medicine on the IV pole and connected everything together, then put the IV in his wife's arm. He let out a quiet sigh and brought his hand to her cheek. He didn't like that she was so sick, and there wasn't much that he could do. He'd have to continue to try and find a cure for her, but that's not something he wanted her to know about..he didn't want to get her hopes up and then fail. 

Poppy turned her head into his hand, closing her eyes. She appreciated the work he was going through the make her better, she really did. She also enjoyed his comfort. All of it was forcing her to slow down and take a breath from all the work she had been doing. 

But there was no rest for the wicked, that's what Elijah said. 

"Do you want cold medicine?" Silas asked, moving his hand away, leaving her cheek cold. 

Poppy nodded and leaned her head back into the pillow more, keeping her eyes closed. She heard his footsteps walk into the bathroom, and she heard him dig through the medicine cabinet, which was filled with witchy stuff. She swallowed, her body beginning to feel weird, fuzzy, a bit numb. Poppy felt like she was spinning around slowly, but she knew her body hadn't left the still bed. It was because of the medicine. 

"Mommy." Melody whispered quietly, standing next to the bed. "Are you awake?" 

The mother turned her head and opened her eyes, looking at her daughter. Carefully, she pushed herself to sit up. "I'm awake, princess. What's up? Is everything okay?"