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It was hot. Way too fucking hot. Scout had kicked off their blanket a while ago, laying pitifully on their bed while they sweated off what seemed to be all of the water in their body. It wasn’t helped with the fact they were this close to crying, tears pricking at their eyes as they tried to get some semblance of comfort, to no avail.
They hated crying. It wouldn’t help anything, anyways. There was nobody around to see them, to hear their cries for help, for comfort, for love. In their frustrated haze, they thought of that shitty phrase, If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?
It did. It really did. They knew it did, with how they broke down into sobs, crying into their empty house as they pulled at their hair. Just because nobody was around to hear it didn’t mean it didn’t happen, it just means that nobody cared enough to be around.
God, they sounded like a shitty poet. Or a shitty philosopher. They sounded like they were trying to be deep but failing miserably. They laughed at themselves, but it just came out as another sob, and they sounded delirious at this point. Maybe they were delirious, maybe this cold had gotten to them, and they would pass out and finally get some sleep.
It probably wasn’t a cold at this point, they realized. They didn’t know the huge differences between a cold and a fever, but a cold probably didn’t make someone hot like this.
They sat up, their hands shaking on the mattress, and they swung their leg over the edge of the bed. Their leg swung a little too hard, and they yelped as they thudded against their carpet, gripping at the floor under them. Exhaustion pulled them down, and they rested their weight on their forearms, shaking under the weight.
They slowly pushed themselves onto their one knee, beginning to crawl toward their open door. Their face flushed, more than it already was because of the heat, embarrassment filling them at the probably weird and pathetic sight they made. A lanky teenager, dripping with sweat as they deliriously crawled around their house, sobbing and gasping. For a second, they were glad nobody was home to see them, but the thought just punched them in the gut a second later.
Nobody was home to see them. Nobody to help them.
They didn’t even want their parents at that point. They’d probably cry in relief if anyone showed up.
They slowly crawled down the hallway, arms and knee threatening to buckle a little too often. It felt like forever, with their shakiness and occasional pausing to catch their breath, but they relaxed once they reached their destination.
The living room. The cool, wooden panels of the living room floor welcomed Scout with metaphorical open arms as they collapsed. They pressed their blazing forehead down on the cold floor, and they almost sobbed at the immediate relief filling their body. The ceiling fan was still on, thankfully, hearing it faintly spinning above them as air blew down on them.
They could fall asleep right here. They probably would, with how their eyelids drooped and their muscles melted against the wood. Willing themselves awake, they lightly shook their head and immediately regretted it, with how it irritated their aching head.
Sitting up, they rested their weight against their forearms again. Their arms were already sore, and a fleeting thought of I shouldn’t have passed up working out with Raine made them perk up. Raine.
Call Raine. He’ll help you the way they won’t. He told you to call in case of an emergency.
This felt like an emergency. No normal person crawled around their house like they just did. No normal person missed their parents as much as they did. No one was as desperate for company as they were.
Now resting their weight on one shaky forearm, their other hand went down to their shorts, fishing their phone out of their pocket. The brightness of their screen made them wince when they laid their phone flat on the ground, but they beared through it to open their phone app and click on Raine’s contact.
They collapsed flat against the ground as it rang, shifting so it was right by their face as they rested their cheek against the hard surface. They melted against the floor, listening to it ringing. They didn’t feel worried when it went on for a little longer than normal. He’d answer, they knew he would.
It was quickly affirmed when they heard the phone click, and Raine’s voice filled their ears,
“Hey kid, what’s up?” His tone was joking, and they heard various voices in the background, “Everyone says hi, by the by.”
Exhaustion pulled them down, and they opened eyes they didn’t realize were closed. Words couldn’t come, now that they had the opportunity to actually speak, and they smacked their lips to try and get themselves to talk. Their pause was long enough for Raine, apparently, because he chuckled before asking further,
“You good? It’s like midnight. Prime hours for kids to be sleeping, not talking.”
Scout hummed, and it quickly turned into a groan when their throat tickled, and their stomach swooped. They erupted into a coughing fit, simultaneously trying to swallow down rising bile, and they heard words coming from the speaker again, but their own noises overpowered it.
They sit back up on their forearms, hands covering their mouth. It took a little too long for them to deem their own body safe enough, but they groaned again when they did,
“M’sick.” They answered, croaking out through their scratchy throat.
“Yeah, I can hear that, Scout.” They frowned at the use of their actual name, not kid or bud or squirt, and they worried that Raine was mad at them. They verbalized as such, albeit more mumbled and near incoherent, but they got the message across, and Raine scoffed as keys jingled in the background. “No, kid, M’not mad. Hey –”
Raine’s voice became muffled for a few seconds, presumably talking to somebody else, before his voice became clear again, “Sorry, you alright? Are you gonna pass out or throw up or anything?”
“Mmm nah,” They hummed, wincing at their aching head, “‘M tired, Rai.”
“I know, bud, but you gotta stay awake, I’ll be there in a sec. I’ll be there faster than you can even think of saying you’re tired again.”
“Promise?” The question tumbled out of their mouth before they could think, and they felt their face flush at how small they sounded.
“I promise.” Raine answered just as quickly, tone firm and filling them with warm feelings outside of the flu’s influence. They relaxed against the still cool wood, humming as their eyes drooped closed, and they nodded as if Raine could see them. They listened to the background sounds of Raine’s side of the line, hearing muffled footsteps and crickets as the two fell into a comfortable silence.
Raine wouldn’t be too mad if they fell asleep, not if he felt the way their own body was weighing them down. Exhaustion finally pulled them under, a comfortable warmth relaxing them as the sounds on the other side of the line lulled them to sleep.
Scout woke with a start, feeling a hand quickly patting their cheek. The hand cupped their cheek when they opened their eyes, thumb smoothing right under their eye. They looked up at Raine blearily, smacking their dry lips, and the adult’s worried expression seemed to soften as they blink rapidly.
“Hey kid, shh,” Raine softly started, his voice shaky, “You’re alright, you’re gonna be okay, just–”
Raine’s hand separated from Scout’s face to grab their hands, wrapping their arms weakly around his shoulders. When they tightened their shaky hold on his shoulders, he pulled them to sit up before bringing his other arm under their knee to carry them, just like in all those shows they’d seen and games they’d played. He stayed there, though, and didn’t actually pick them up yet. They rested their warm forehead against his neck, ignoring Raine’s fond but shaky laugh.
“We’re going up on the count of three, ‘kay?” He warned them, only continuing when they nodded against his neck, “One, two, three–” He stood up, picking them up with ease. They hardly felt like a princess like this, and their disappointment was furthered by Raine sucking air through his teeth, “Okay, you are lighter than I thought, yeesh.”
They tried to retort with, “As if I can control that,” but it came out like incoherent slurring instead, and Raine shakily laughed at them as he deposited them onto the couch. Footsteps shuffled around as they shifted, trying to get comfortable on the couch, and when they finally relaxed a hand began running through their hair.
Their body pulled them down again, and the only thing they heard before they fully drifted off was Raine talking to someone, speaking softly,
“Hey. Yeah, it’s pretty bad.” And after a second, he huffed, but they didn’t hear anything else.
Muffled country music entered Scout’s ears, and they woke slowly, blearily opening their eyes. They laid on the couch, laying on their stomach with their cheek squished against a pillow from their bed. A blanket that wasn’t theirs was wrapped around them, although it was too short for their stature, unable to cover their foot and a portion of their leg.
It took them a bit to sit up, but once they did, they looked around to see their living room was significantly cleaner than they remembered, and they could hear the music clearer. It was coming from the kitchen, and they could hear people shuffling around as hushed voices filled their once empty house. They yawned, looking toward their kitchen in foggy confusion.
The music, voices, and shuffling didn’t even falter, so they slowly uncurled their leg over the edge of the couch, the blanket falling down their shoulders.
They stood up on their one leg, bringing a hand to the arm of the chair to balance themselves. The music was turned off the second they started hopping toward the kitchen, and the voices either quieted significantly or stopped entirely.
When they noisily entered the kitchen, they were met with three pairs of eyes on them. Raine, Dorian, and Jack were all scattered around their kitchen, Jack huddled over their stove while Dorian sat at their small dining table, and Raine sat on a counter near the table. Scout faltered in the entrance, holding a hand against the wall to stabilize themselves.
“Um, excuse me, what the actual fuck are you doing in my house?” They quoted, laughing to themselves. Raine thankfully laughed with them and hopped down from the counter to stand by them. He took their hand, wrapping their arm around his shoulders and letting them lean on him.
“You good? You were sleeping for a while.”
Scout nodded, resting their cheek against the top of Raine’s head as they yawned, “Mmm, yeah. M’good.” As if on cue, their stomach growled loudly, and they grimaced at the light chuckles from the room, “And hungry.”
Raine’s arms wrapped around their middle, briefly picking them up to walk the short distance to their dining table and deposited them onto a chair after they kicked it away a bit. They were only given a few seconds to adjust to sitting down before Jack stood next to them, looming over them a bit to place a steaming bowl of soup in front of them. It was plain chicken noodle soup, and it smelled amazing to their empty stomach.
“Careful, s’hot.” He warned Scout before heavily resting a firm but soothing hand on their shoulder, briefly rubbing it before he separated from them to lean against a counter behind them. Confusion and disappointment filled them, the former because of his comforting actions, and the latter because of its absence. They brushed it off as they picked up their spoon and dipped it in the soup, playing with their food as it cooled down.
Raine sat next to them, while Dorian watched them from across the table. They met Dorian’s eyes, and ducked their head down to look at their soup when his eyes were sharp. Full of disappointment and anger. From their periphery, they could see how tense he was, his shoulders raised as his hands were tightly intertwined on the table, only in the way he was when he was stressed.
A hand started rubbing their back as the room fell into a tense silence, and they gave Raine a look that they hoped conveyed thanks. He nodded at them, a weird somber expression on his face. Their stomach slightly dropped, but they ignored it to shove a spoonful of soup into their mouth. It wasn’t hot enough to burn them, but it was hot enough for them to feel it warm their insides when they swallowed it down. The fact that it was made by someone else probably helped with that warmth, in a weird way.
Scout busied themself with eating, ignoring the stares of the three adults around them. They quickly realized they were hungrier than they thought, practically inhaling the soup and barely giving themself time to chew the chicken or noodles. It wasn’t until Raine patted their back that they remembered there were people around, and they placed down the spoon in the bowl with a clink.
Scout rested their head in their hands, elbows digging into the table as they slouched forward. They glanced up, meeting Dorian’s eyes, and they didn’t look away this time. After a beat of silence, Dorian inhaled and asked, “Where are your parents?”
That made them look away again. They shrugged, tapping their foot against the tile.
“I dunno.”
“How long have they been gone?”
“It’s not like that.” They almost surprised themself at how firm and bitter their tone suddenly became; it made them a little nauseous. They ducked their head down, one hand rubbing the back of their neck as they cleared their throat, “It’s not like that. S’for their work. They do some, like… field research stuff, and it makes them gone a lot. It’s not a big deal.”
Dorian just sighed, and they felt the overwhelming need to continue explaining it, continue justifying it, but the fear of disappointment stopped them. After a second, Dorian’s hands entered their vision as he placed them on the table, as if to soothe them. Scout looked up at him again, and his expression was softer than before.
“It is a big deal.” Dorian stated firmly, turning their hands palm up, as if silently asking them to place their own hands in it. It seemed to be the right interpretation, because when they did so, he held their hands as if they were precious. “Scout, you had a fever of 101 degrees. You were passed out on the floor when Raine found you.” They opened their mouth to interrupt Dorian, to explain it, but he continued,
“What if you didn’t call him? What if you couldn’t?”
The questions punched them in the gut a bit, and their mouth awkwardly stayed open as their words died in their throat. Dorian pointedly stared at them, pausing as if waiting for their response, but they just closed their mouth, ducking their head down again. The man across them took that as enough of an answer, sighing disappointedly at them as their stomach churned.
“What if you were alone in this house and something worse happened? What if you couldn’t call anyone?”
They shook their head, “That’s not gonna happen.”
“Scout, anything can happen–”
“But it’s not gonna happen. I keep myself safe, I’m careful, I lock the house up, I have my phone on me all the time so I can call people if anything happens. I do all that stuff, I’ll be fine.”
“But you shouldn’t have to do all that.” Dorian spoke over them, briefly squeezing their hands before they exhaled. “My point is that somebody should be here. It should be your parents, but if they aren’t here, then it should be any other family members, or even us!”
He brought his hands up a bit at the end of his sentence, bringing their hands with him before he rested them on the table again, sighing deeply. “You shouldn’t be here all alone. You shouldn’t be the only person taking care of you and keeping you safe.”
Scout looked down at the table, face scrunching up when they felt tears prickle at their eyes, and their throat tightened. They could hear ringing in their ears. Foot tapping against the tile, they shrugged slightly.
“...But I can do it.”
It didn’t sound convincing at all. Their voice was shaky, and it cracked in the middle of the sentence.
Dorian just sighed after a moment, squeezing their hands again.
“But you don’t have to. You’re just a kid.”
That statement should have angered them. It should’ve offended them, should’ve filled them with the desire to protest it vehemently. It should’ve made them retort that they weren’t six, they were sixteen, and that was a normal age to be left alone for longer periods of time. It should’ve made them furious, but–
Some indescribable feeling washed over them, and they suddenly felt strangely empty and heavy. It felt like some huge weight was lifted off of them in an instant, but instead of being relieved they were just exhausted. They still felt the adult’s eyes on them, but they were frozen, limbs and eyes heavy. It took far too much energy, and probably time in the adult’s eyes, but they eventually managed to do the small actions of shrugging and leaning against Raine. Light pressure was felt at their fingers, but they couldn’t find it in them to react to Dorian squeezing their hands.
It felt like their brain was dunked underwater. They didn’t swim much, but that was the only reasonable experience they could possibly compare it to. Their mind felt waterlogged, and they blankly stared down at the table. Numb, heavy hands rested on the table, and the only sound they could hear was ringing in their eyes. Water fell, dripping on the table, but it couldn’t have been from them, they didn’t feel any tears fall down their face. They just wanted this to be over.
Words were said above them, but it sounded muffled, as if they really were underwater. They blinked, and the bowl in front of them was suddenly gone, only leaving the small puddles of water behind. They slowly turned to see Dorian now at the sink, back turned to them as the sink ran. Huh. They guessed it was over.
Then, as if he were pulling them back up for air, Jack lightly clapped his hand on their shoulder with that same firm but soothing grip. They stayed like that for what felt like a long time. He didn’t seem to say anything, but he didn’t move away, even when they slowly brought one of their own hands to cover his. His presence was comforting in their waterlogged brain, in a weird stern way. Like how their dad was. Like how their dad is .
They thought Jack’s heavy hand had pulled them up enough, but when they blinked, they were met with the living room again, being deposited down onto the couch. Another blink, and they were laid down on their stomach again, blankly watching Jack tuck them in with a larger blanket, one that actually covered their foot.
They couldn’t even remember the last they were tucked in, if they ever were in the first place. They tried to recall anything like that, but they fell asleep before they could.