Chapter Text
“Spiderman, Spiderman, does what ever a spider can,” Suki croaked, barely able to get through the first line before breaking into a chesty cough.
Sunny looked at her, a frown creasing his young face.
“The song sounds wrong today.”
“Sorry,” Suki murmured, sniffing. “Want me to just go to sleep?”
“NO!” said Sunny loudly, looking terrified again.
Even at the young age of eight, Suki knew she needed to look after him. That’s why she’d let him in, despite feeling like she’d never breathe properly again. He’d come to find her, tears streaming down his face and shaking. He wouldn’t tell her why, but Suki knew he hated the dark. He hadn’t been sleeping on his own for long, they’d always shared before. But, recently, he’d not been well. A lot of bugs, just as any child got, but these seemed to linger, each worse than the last. As a result, their parents had thought it best that he had his own bed. Sunny had pretended to be excited, knowing it was a big stage, but that first night, Suki had woken up to him cuddled up next to her, unable to relax without knowing she was there. Being so young, she had no idea of the consequences; no idea that, despite being fastidiously clean, the germs she carried were only going to exacerbate things, whether perfectly healthy or, as she was tonight, up to her eyeballs in cold.
She continued doing her best to sing to him, stroking his hair until he fell asleep, head contentedly resting on her chest. Eventually, she drifted off too, mouth open, her body desperate for the oxygen her blocked nostrils were denying her. That was how her mother discovered them in the morning, thunderstruck. Furiously, she tore the blankets off the pair of them and dragged Suki away from him, giving her a hefty clip around the ear.
“Tusīṁ inē mūrakha kivēṁ hō sakadē hō?” she spat, face flushed with anger.
Eyes full of tears, Suki tried to defend herself, desperate to understand what she’d done wrong.
“Uha ḍara gi'ā sī, mamī. Usanū ika ḍarā'uṇā supanā ā'i'ā.”
“Basa mērī nazara tōṁ dūra hō jā'ō, Sukhwinder!”
Suki spent that week at school unable to concentrate, head too stuffed-up and mind too worried to focus properly.
“Sukhwinder?” her teacher had asked, kindly. “Don’t you think you should be at home? If you don’t feel well?”
Suki shook her head, silently, determined to press on. Her teacher left her working, returning a few moments later with a small glass of orange juice.
“This is mine, but I think you need it more. Would you like it?”
She’d looked back, uncertainly, not knowing whether or not it’d get them both into trouble.
“It’s ok. You have it if you want to. Orange juice helps when you’re poorly.”
Suki nodded, knowing this.
“Nānī gives it to us when we’re sick. She puts turmeric in it.”
She took it, cautiously, giving her teacher a small smile.
“Thank you, sir.”
As she sipped it, she thought about her dinner money, sitting patiently in the pocket of her cardigan. She knew she should probably eat something, but the thought of helping her brother was far more appealing. After school, she dashed to the shop, having to strain to put the large carton of juice on the counter with her collection of coins. She didn’t stop to get change, rushing home as fast as her tiny legs and wheezy chest would let her.
“Mamī? Mamī, maiṁ usanū satarē dā jūsa kharīdi'ā,” she called, loudly, moving quickly towards the kitchen, preparing to hunt for turmeric.
Her mother snatched it out of her hand, coldly.
“He’s in hospital. Your father and Danvir are with him.”
Suki’s little face fell as she stared back at her mother in horror.
“He can’t breathe.”
“Shall I go and get changed?”
“We’re staying here. You’ve done enough.”
Sunny didn’t leave the hospital for days, their parents taking it in turns to stay with him overnight. Suki had been banned by her mother from seeing him until she was well, but the anxiety did nothing to help her, simply making her headaches and sinuses worse the more she cried. After a few nights of this, Danvir knocked gingerly on her door.
“Suki?”
“Don’t come in. I’m still sick.”
She heard him shifting, awkwardly.
“I don’t – I don’t think you should be on your own. I don’t think it’s fair.”
For a boy of ten, he sounded a lot wiser than he should. Suki was too upset to hear this, however, bundling herself up in her blankets.
“Suki, I – I don’t want to be on my own.”
Suki thought for a moment. Wiping her eyes, she wrapped the blankets round herself and shuffled to the door, letting Dan in.
“You stay over there. I don’t want to get you sick too,” she said, pointing at the floor by the wall.
Once in, Dan ignored this, pulling her into a hug. Suki began to panic, trying to push him away.
“Stop it!”
Dan clung on, tightly, shaking slightly.
“Get off me!”
Suki eventually freed herself, stumbling back to her bed. She lay down, rolling so that her back was to the door, trying to hide her face.
“It’s my fault.”
“It isn’t. It isn’t, Suki. Mamī matalabī hō rahī hai.”
He sat on the very edge of the bed, putting a hand on her shoulder. Shakily, Suki sat up, little face full of shame.
“Maiṁ usanū bimāra kara ditā.”
“I think he was already sick, mērē kuṛī.”
“But I made it worse. Didn’t I?”
Dan said nothing, clearly not knowing what to say. Suki looked down, her tears softly hitting her bedsheets.
“Mamī atē ḍaiḍī huṇa mainū nafarata karadē hana.”
“They don’t hate you.”
“They do.”
“Well, I don’t. You’re my friend.”
“I’m your sister.”
“I don’t think that means we can’t be friends, Suki. I hope not, because you’re my best friend.”
“But – what about school?”
“They are fun to play with. But they don’t listen to me. You do.”
Suki gave him a small, teary smile.
“You’re my friend, too. So’s Sunny. Best friends. Including Gitta.”
Dan pulled Suki into a hug again, though not quite as tightly this time, keeping his face away as much as he could. Suki gave in, letting him hold her.
“We’ll always be together. All three of us.”
Suki shook her head.
“Sunny’s too sick. And scared. I tried to stop him being scared, but it –“
Dan cut her off, firmly.
“He WILL get better. He WILL.”
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Eve checked her watch as she and Zebedee reached the front door, panting. She grinned and squatted down, getting him to high five her.
“New personal best, lad – we’re getting good at this!”
He wagged happily back at her, waiting patiently to be let in. Once in, she was greeted by the sight of Nugget and Vinny. Vinny was making coffee whilst Nugget was stood with a tea-towel over his shoulder, humming to himself and preparing a marinade.
“Smells good.”
He grinned back at her, shyly. This was a recent development, Nugget trying to cook. He’d mostly been doing it with Suki’s help, but he’d come on leaps and bounds. Although it’d come from Suki promising to teach Eve, Eve had taken a step back, wanting to give them something to do together. Now, watching the small amount of pride in Nugget’s face, she could see just how much he appreciated it.
“It’s for later. I know you were thinking of doing a roast, but – well, I thought we could put a bit of a twist on it.”
“No complaints here!”
“Is it just George again?”
“Yeah, I think so. Elaine’s taken the girls away. Distraction therapy.”
The bliss of New Year had been short-lived for the Knights, their entire world being torn apart by Cindy’s shock arrival. As a result, George had been spending a lot of evenings with them, keen to avoid drama. He and Elaine were still going strong, but they both agreed that George not being in the pub more than necessary was for the best, to give them both processing space, but also to avoid giving Cindy the room to be as inflammatory as she wanted to be. Elaine was chucking activities at the girls left, right and centre, and, despite her regular protests, Cindy wasn’t going to darken their doorstep. Suki had made that quite clear. She’d gently pushed George into Eve’s arms, directing her to the living room before turning back to Cindy, pointing an accusatory finger, livid.
“We did not spend the first few days of January cradling that man in our arms for you to come here and read us the riot act. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just another one of Ian’s cast offs. George – he has a heart of gold, and he deserves so much better. So take your crocodile tears and your ‘woe-is-me’ charm offensive and get out of his life.”
Once he’d calmed down, cup of tea in his hand, George had looked back at her, a grateful smile playing around his mouth.
“You – you didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes I did. You protected me, I’m gonna protect you. We protect each other, George, that’s how this works.”
They’d given George their bed that night, making up the sofa for themselves and spooning, mainly so that if he couldn’t sleep or anything else kicked off, they could get to the door quickly to shove the offending person back through it.
“You’re very sweet on him,” Eve had said, smiling fondly at her wife’s warmness.
Previously, if Nish had said this, it would’ve been accompanied by a patronising condescension, his narcissism prevailing over the half a brain-cell he’d managed to develop over the course of his lifetime. Eve, however, simply meant what she said. No hidden jealousy, just cosiness, fully comfortable. Knowing this, Suki had turned awkwarrdly and planted a kiss on her cheek, smiling back at her, looking nostalgic; about what, Eve had no idea. A young Kheerat, possibly.
“He reminds me of someone. It’s easy to be his friend.”
Today, however, Suki was not helping prepare things, still laid up in bed.
“Is Mum any better?” Vinny asked, getting Eve a mug out of the cupboard to make her a coffee too.
“Since yesterday? No idea. She kicked me out of the bedroom,” Eve said, slightly bitterly. “If it were me, she’d not leave my side, but me taking care of her? Absolutely not, under any circumstances. You’d think she had the Black Death.”
Vinny smirked, knowingly.
“She’s always been like that. Quarantining herself, terrified of getting us sick. She was a bit O.T.T. with it – any hint of a cough or even a runny nose in us and she was dosing us with oranges like we’d been at sea for years and were riddled with scurvy.”
Eve shook her head, smiling at her wife’s compassion. She looked at the mugs, thoughtfully.
“Vin, do we have any whisky left?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Eve, it’s not even nine o’clock yet.”
“Not for me, you pillock. I’m gonna make your Mum a hot toddy.”
“She won’t thank you for it. Her migraines are awful when she’s sick, that’ll be why she isn’t up yet.”
“Doesn’t hurt to try.”
Vinny shrugged, grabbed his own coffee, and headed out to work. Eve pushed hers towards Nugget with a small smile.
“I don’t want coffee breath. She might not be able to smell it, but it’s not nice, all the same.”
Nugget grinned.
“If she ain’t letting you sleep in the same bed, she ain’t gonna let you kiss her.”
“Just take the free coffee, lad, while you still can.”
He thanked her, continuing to grind up the spices he needed.
“Thanks for this. Cooking. We really appreciate it.”
“It’s nice to do,” Nugget replied, happily.
“We’re – your Nan and I – we’re so proud of you, y’know.”
Nugget shook his head, embarrassed, continuing to busy himself with the marinade.
“Does – d’you reckon Nānī will want any breakfast?”
“Probably not, but wouldn’t hurt to offer.”
“I could make some pakora? It’ll take a while, so she can see how she feels, and if she don’t want any, we can serve it up with the roast later.”
Eve beamed at him, before pulling him into a soft hug, kissing the top of his head gently. He wrapped his arms around her back, also beaming, relaxed and clearly, truly, happy.
“You’re such a good lad.”
“You ain’t the only one that loves her, Eve. I – I ain’t got any other family. You lot are it. And you and her, you –“
He trailed off and let go, quickly, going back to the food, embarrassed. Eve put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently, before going hunting for the whisky. As she did this, Nugget washed his hands quickly, murmuring that he’d be back to finish off in a minute, and rushed up the stairs. He knocked gently at Suki and Eve’s bedroom door, his voice soft and gentle.
“Nānī?”
“Adara nā ā'ō, maiṁ ajē vī bimāra hāṁ,” Suki replied, her voice small and croaky.
“I won’t come in – I just wondered – I’m gonna make some pakora. Would you like any? It won’t be ready for a while, so you can grab a bit more sleep if you need to.”
“You’re such a good boy.”
Nugget smiled to himself at this, his heart swelling slightly.
“I’ll make some anyway. We can have it later.”
“If I’m still up here when George comes, tell him I’m sorry. Can feel a migraine rearing its head.”
“Kujha ārāma karō.”
He met Eve on the stairs, smiling at the look of determination on her face.
“She ain’t gonna let you in. Migraine from hell.”
Eve raised her eyebrow, a familiar, lopsided smirk becoming resident on her face.
“We’ll see.”
She backed into the bedroom door, pushing it open. Her back was instantly met with a pillow.
“Get out!” croaked Suki, her voice cracking even more due to the panic.
“Any hostility to the nurses will not be tolerated, Mrs. Unwin,” Eve said, smirk widening, placing the hot toddy down on Suki’s bedside table and going to kiss her forehead. Suki quickly rolled away, looking terrified.
“NO!”
Eve started laughing, stroking Suki’s back. Suki permitted this, clearly enjoying it, despite her frustration.
“Stubborn twat.”
“Forgive me for wanting to look after you.”
“Forgive ME for not wanting to fill you full of snot. Especially when your immune system isn’t as good.”
“My immune system is surrounded by snotty Slater children regularly. It’s fighting fit.”
“Says the woman hospitalised with Meningitis for most of October.”
Eve bent down, kissing Suki between her shoulder blades.
“Is that what you’re worried about?”
Suki said nothing, but Eve didn’t need her to; the silence said enough.
“Love, I’m not going anywhere. A cold’s not gonna beat me. I promise.”
“No. It isn’t. Because I’m not going to let it.”
The true fear in Suki’s voice startled Eve and she lay down, tucking her arm under Suki’s, trying to soothe her.
“Hey. Hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise how scared you were.”
Suki whimpered, slightly. Eve shushed her, kissing the nape of her neck.
“I’m just tired,” Suki lied. “Got a really bad migraine.”
“Wanna stay like this for a bit? Drink your toddy?”
Suki sat up, sniffing, moving herself to the edge of the bed, but nodding at Eve all the same, her chocolatey eyes shining.
“This is a real phobia, isn’t it?” Eve asked, softly.
Suki nodded, hastily trying to come up with an excuse she thought Eve would buy.
“Has been since I was little. One of my teachers got a cold. We didn’t see them again. Realistically, he just got a new job, but I was fixated on it. Then, once I had kids – well, it’s terrifying, watching a baby cough and splutter. Been like that ever since.”
She sipped her toddy, chest untightening slightly as Eve nodded back at her, sympathetically.
“Thanks. For this.”
“What else are wives for?” Eve replied, smiling reassuringly at her.
Suki wiped away her tears, chuckling.
“I can think of a thing or two.”
“Two?”
Suki tilted her head, smiling coyly, looking at Eve's chest.
“Two.”
“Speaking of – I happen to know of quite a good migraine cure.”
“Eve, I’m not letting you kiss me.”
“Who said anything about kissing you?”
Suki cleared her throat, trying to stifle a cough, and raised her eyebrow.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Trust me?” asked Eve, grinning broadly.
“Not remotely.”
Eve raised her own eyebrow, grin cracking her face in two.
“What does this – cure – involve?”
“I’ll show you.”
Gently, she took Suki’s hot toddy back, placing it down carefully, before pushing Suki gently down onto the pillow. She scooched down the bed, gently lifting Suki’s legs to rest on her shoulders. She paused, looking at Suki, grinning. Suki rolled her eyes, a soft smile spreading across her face.
“Isn’t that a myth?”
“Want to find out?”
“You’re taking ‘bedside manner’ to new heights.”
“I take my duty of care very seriously.”
Suki opened her mouth to respond but was cut off, responding to the feel of Eve’s tongue.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Nānī.”
“A bit,” Suki replied, smiling, cheeks still flushed. “Don’t come too close, though.”
Nugget mimed crossing his heart, beaming back at her. He pointed at the plate of pakora.
“They’re still hot, so might have to wait a bit, but they’re there if you want some.”
Suki’s heart melted and she thanked him, before turning to Eve.
“Shall we ask him?” she said, softly, voice cracking again, both from her cold but also the tears catching in her throat.
Eve also began to well up, nervous, and nodded. Nugget looked between them, confused.
“Ask me what?”
Eve took a deep breath and then turned to him, squatting down in front of his chair.
“You keep saying we’re the only family you’ve got and how grateful you are. And we’re so, so grateful for you too. So, we – your Nānī and I, we – we wondered if you wanted to –“
Nugget’s eyes widened, not daring to believe it.
“To what?”
“Eve and I wondered if you’d be happy if – if we made it official. If we adopted you. Properly.”
Nugget opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Before he could stop himself, his lip wobbled and he threw himself forward, hugging Eve tightly. She wrapped her arms around him, turning her face to kiss his cheek.
“I take it that’s a ‘yes’, then?”
Nugget said nothing, simply gripping her tighter, burying his face in her shoulder.
“It’ll take time, and we will have to let your Dad know, but –“
“I don’t care,” he said, softly, sounding almost as croaky as Suki did.
Eve pulled back, beaming at him, cupping his face.
“Tuhānū pi'āra, muḍē.”
“Maiṁ vī tuhāḍē nāla pi'āra karadī hāṁ. Mērī'āṁ nanī'āṁ.”