Chapter Text
Sawyer was rubbing his eyes when he came out of his bedroom for school. Rick was waiting for him and his sisters in the kitchen, lunchboxes packed and water bottles filled.
"Y'alright, bud?"
"…don't feel good." The boy croaks, sliding into a barstool at the kitchen counter. He folds his arms and rests his head, and alarms start to sound in Rick's head. He doesn't look good; he's pale and his eyes are sunken in.
"I'm gonna take your temp." Rick crosses to the hallway to get to the bathroom. He peeks into Izzie's room, only to see Christian curled up with her in bed, rubbing her back. He looks up at Rick and nods to the girl.
"Sick."
"Great. Another one." The older man sighs before rummaging through the bathroom cabinet. He glances in the mirror quickly and takes a deep breath. "Good thing I have the day off."
He twirls the thermometer in his hands before bringing it back to Sawyer. He brushes the boy's light brown hair back and swipes the tool across his forehead. 101.2. "Alright, kiddo. Back to bed." He squeezes the child's shoulder. Sawyer grumbles something Rick can't interpret, and trudges back to his room, dropping his Spider-man backpack on the floor.
Two down, one to go.
Rick starts up the staircase, knocking on the door at the top. "Amara… you ready?"
"Yeah." She replies, immediately followed by a cough. Rick comes in to see her sitting at her vanity, her laptop open in front of her with a show playing. He notices a tissue box on her nightstand that wasn't there the evening prior, and runs a hand through his hair.
"You feeling okay?"
"Just congested. And my head hurts." She starts braiding her hair. He knows she's independent, stubborn, and likes to get things done; he also knows she'll text him in a few hours asking to come home.
"You're staying home." He decides.
"No, Dad, I promise I can go." She groans, spinning in her chair to look at him.
"I don't doubt you could, honey. I just don't want you to. Your siblings are sick, anyway."
"Ugh. Fine." She finishes tying off her braid and pulls her laptop into her lap. Rick smiles warmly and kisses the top of her head. It's remarkable how much he sees Christian in her, even though they share no blood. He has to convince both of them to rest. "I'm watching your season." She adds before he leaves. He turns back to look at her, trying not to freak out. "You were kinda insane."
"Good. Good, that was the goal."
The day moves quietly. Christian works until the afternoon, so Rick's solo-parenting; nothing he isn't used to. He situates the family in the living room: he lays down a bunch of blankets, smothers the ground in pillows, and finds a line of Christmas lights in the garage to hang up. It's March… but it's for the vibes, you know?
Amara does all the schoolwork she can. She makes herself a smoothie, puts her blue-light glasses on, and furiously types away on her laptop. Rick's proud he raised a kid who works so hard… but he knows that beneath it all, she feels horrible. He sees it in her weary green eyes.
"How much more you got to do?"
"Just another math assignment." She rubs the back of her neck.
"Then you'll shut it off?" He proposes.
"Yeah." She sighs, taking a sip of her drink. Sawyer meanders out of his room, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his basketball stuffie tucked underneath his arm.
"I wanna watch Iron Man." He mumbles, practically falling onto the couch to curl up next to Rick. The latter reaches for the remote next to him and switches the channel. He feels the boy's forehead—it's cooling down a little.
"How're you feeling?"
"The same." He coughs into his elbow. Rick scratches his scalp to soothe him, and watches his face light up a bit when the movie starts to play.
Izzie's on the floor, a little sketchbook in her lap with a big box of crayons. Rick's learned not to interrupt her during the 'artistic process,' as he likes to call it. He could never forgive himself for pausing greatness. Every so often, she gets up only to go blow her nose.
Minus the sick part, Rick could stay like this forever. He cherishes the moments when all the kids are under the same roof, because those are getting few and far between. He holds Sawyer a little tighter.
A knock and subsequent opening of the door makes everyone perk up. Christian walks in, bags of take-out and groceries hanging on his arms.
"I come bearing gifts!" He exclaims. Izzie wastes no times running up to him, as if her illness has briefly subsided. He sets some of the bags down on the counter before scooping her up. "Hi, honey." He greets her, and she smiles gleefully into his shoulder. Rick couldn't be much happier, seeing two of his favorite people bond so quickly.
"Work alright?" Rick checks.
"Pretty boring, I was just proctoring some exams." He explains, a light behind his eyes alerting Rick he's ready to go on a ramble. But he holds back, and instead reaches into the grocery bags with his free arm. He pulls out some medicine, popsicles for their throats, and Rick's favorite part, chinese food.
Amara picks up on it, too. "Did you get chinese?"
"Yeah. It's your favorite, right?"
"…yeah." Amara smiles to herself. "He remembered," she whispers to Rick, who nods in return.
"He's good at that kind of thing. Making his people feel special."
As evening falls, the family stays crowded together. Sawyer wedges himself in between Rick and Christian, and blows through those red popsicles surprisingly quickly. Him and Christian whisper back and forth: Sawyer, on how much he loves Iron Man's suit; and Christian, on the technicalities of it all. Rick's just thankful they can bond. Izzie sprawls herself out on Christian's front, her little hands holding his shoulders. He twirls her hair around his fingers and occasionally feels the temperature on her forehead. Amara wraps herself around Rick's left arm, resting her head on his shoulder in a rare moment of physical affection. Rick's heart has never felt more full. He's certain that this is what people mean when they say they hold the world in their hands.
"I like this," Amara murmurs, "we should do this more often."
"Yeah?" He probes, looking down at her.
"Mhm. You're my person." She replies, not thinking much of it—but it means the world to her dad. He can't hold himself back from smiling. "And, for the record.." she adds, whispering in his ear, "I like Christian, too."