Tu Es Ma Lumière

129 - Simultaneous Ailment

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Side Note - Same AU as Part 93!

Side Note - Please don't think this is a reference to the current pandemic. This has been in my to do's for months, I had this idea in December of last year, it's just coincidental timing, promise.

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This was a nightmare of epic proportions. Mary didn't know how it got so bad so quickly. First, John comes home from school with a slight cough. Mary shook it off with a little bit of cough syrup, figuring that all kids got a bug at the turn from autumn to winter. Next, James gets a sneeze. She gives him some medication and sends the boys to bed. But the next thing she knows, she's dealing with two four year old children with colds from hell.

Just behind her ear, James coughs. A horrible, congested, raw cough that makes her pout in sympathy and kiss his head. Like their father, her sons were extremely clingy and winy and crabby when they were sickened. Luckily, John had passed out as they watched a movie in the living room. But James, however, he refused to lay down with his twin whilst his mother made them both some of their favourite soup. So that's how the ravenette ends up with a child clinging to her, his legs bound around her waist, arms around her neck, a head on her shoulder as she stands in front of the cooker, stirring a large soup pot with a wooden spoon, watching the carrots and the onions and the coriander and the potatoes and the lentils swim around in the stock.

Pulling her arm from James' back, so to protect him from any exploding bubbles as she leaned over the large black pot to check on the boys' lunch, Mary began rubbing large circles on his small back, trying to bring comfort to her poor baby.

"Mama." he croaks. She can hear the pot. "I don't feel good." he whimpers. Mary tuts in sympathy.

"I know, my sweet. I know. Don't you want to go lay down with your brother? Maybe take a nap with him?" she asks her child.

He tightens his grip on her. "No." he pouts.

There's no point in arguing with him, and Mary doesn't want to when he's so sick. So, she just nods and passes him a cup full of tropical fruit juice. He latches onto the straw quickly, sucking down the liquid.

Well, he's drinking at least.

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"No, mama." John wines, pushing the purple plastic syringe away. She shakes her head, putting the straw to the blonde boys' lips. After lunch of blended soup, James had passed out on the couch. So now, she was left caring for the other cranky little boy she had.

"You have to, my love. You must take it or you won't get better. You want to be better, don't you?" she asks him. He pouts adorably. They look so much like Francis that it almost scares her, accept they both had her eyes, and James held her hair. Both curled, however.

"I don't want to have medicine." he says. The boys had always been marvellous vegetable eaters, rarely having anything else as small children so they wouldn't have picky eaters, but when it came to medicine, they became stubborn mules. James caved first after Mary gave him a strawberry ice lolly, just after he finished his soup. John, on the other hand, was still being obstinate.