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It was that time of year again. The dreaded stomach virus season. Kids were, of course, more susceptible to it. Denzel's class had over five kids absent just from it alone. But, being rather cocky, Denzel assured himself he wouldn't get it. He'd be fine. He hadn't gotten sick at all this year.
Of course, that was bound to change.
During dinner that night, Denzel wasn't as hungry as he thought he'd be. He only ate a good half of it, before he proclaimed he was finished. Aerith and Cloud were confused, he'd normally eat his plate clean. Yet, they didn't think too deeply about it. Perhaps the boy just filled up on junky snacks after getting home from school. Later, Denzel went to bed that night, eager for the weekend.
Around 1AM, Denzel stirred awake suddenly. He didn't feel right at all. His head felt heavy and hot, he was sweating buckets, his belly was churning, mouth dry. Shivering, Denzel grabbed his blanket, trying to get warm. He stared at his ceiling for a moment, not wanting to move. Then, the nausea settled in. He needed to head for the bathroom, now.
Managing to haul himself out of bed, Denzel sauntered down the hallway. Trying to settle his upset tummy, rubbing it with one hand. This did nothing to quell the rising nausea. He breathed shakily, he wasn't going to make it.
"M..Mom..! Da-" he began to speak. Before being cut off by a loud retch. His dinner made a reappearance, right onto the floor with a splatter. The snoring in the master bedroom abruptly silenced, followed by the shuffling of blankets and feet. Cloud and Aerith both emerged from the bedroom. Both tired, yet it quickly faded upon seeing what just transpired.
"Denz?! Oh buddy..." Cloud headed over, nose cringing at the smell. "C'mon bud, into the bathroom."
"Poor baby, you must've caught the flu that's been going around. I can clean it babe, take care of him." Aerith tells him, grabbing cleaning materials from a closet.
Denzel sobbed, as another wave of vomit splattered into the toilet. His throat burned, and the taste in his mouth was disgusting. Cloud held his hair out of his face, while rubbing soothing circles into his son's back. He hated seeing Denzel so miserable.
"Shhh, I know kiddo, I know....you done?" he grabbed a tissue and wiped off his mouth, before flushing the toilet.
"I...I think so," Denzel mumbled, burping softly, coughing at the taste of stomach acid.
"I'm sorry, being sick sucks. Here, come wash your hands and brush your teeth, then it's back to bed with you." Cloud helped him up and to the sink. Being as gentle as he could, so he wouldn't jostle Denzel's stomach.
Denzel washed up, feeling a bit angry with his body. Of course, he just had to get sick. He was looking forward to the weekend, now he's spending it in bed. He wished someone else would've gotten sick, like that kid in class who was always stealing his pencils.
Once back in bed, Aerith returned from cleaning the spot where he vomited, carrying a small cup of water with some medicine. "Here, sweetie, take this. It'll help."
"I don't want to..."
"I know you don't want to, but you have to."
"I'll throw it back up, mom. It's no use..."
"Don't give me that, it's supposed to help you feel better. The more you resist taking it, the longer you'll feel sick."
She had a point. He sighed, knowing he would fail winning this argument. Aerith's too stubborn to back down. He reluctantly took the medicine, and sipped the water. At least both stayed down, for now.
"Good boy." Aerith kissed his forehead gently. "Get some rest, okay? Is there anything I can do for you? Want me to rub your tummy?"
Denzel thought about it for a moment, before he nodded. "Yes, please..." He closes his eyes, just wanting to sleep. He could feel his mom's soothing hands rubbing his stomach. As he listened to Aerith humming, he dozed off.
The rest of the night was sorta a blur for Denzel. Cloud came in sometime to check up on him, placing an ice pack on his head. It woke him up briefly, but the coolness was so relieving, the half-asleep Denzel instantly passed back out.
Denzel had thrown up a couple more times, as dawn came around. Thankfully, he made it to the toilet for these spells. He woke up one more time during the morning, so Cloud could give him another dose of medicine.
Afternoon rolled around, and Denzel woke back up. Finally, he felt at least some progress. That being his stomach wasn't doing flip-flops that required another trip to the bathroom. His head still ached, and he still had a slight fever. Not to mention, while not nauseous, his stomach still hurt.
The door creaked open, and Aerith poked her head in, smiling warmly.
"Hey, little warrior. How are you feeling?" She asked, coming in and sitting by the edge of the bed.
"A little better. And by little I mean this much..." Denzel raised his arm up, closing his index and thumb fingers just inches from each other.
She chuckled, brushing some hair back. "It's better than nothing. Do you think you can try to handle some crackers?"
Denzel shrugged. "Maybe. I'm nervous about it.."
"I'll only give you a few to eat, not too much. And some Sprite too, alright?" She got up from the bed.
He smiled. "Alright. Oh, uh...mom? Can I sit in the living room? I wanna watch some TV."
"Sure, sweetheart, come on."
He sat at the couch, nibbling on saltine crackers, with a can of Sprite next to him on the table. A trashcan nearby just in case. It felt good to be able to eat at least something, even better, it wasn't coming back up!
"Where's dad?"
"He went to the store. We were out of chicken noodle soup, so I sent him to get some. You think you'll be able to also eat that for dinner?"
"Mhm, I think eating is helping."
"Good! That's my tough little man." Aerith laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Denzel pouted a bit.
"Moooommm..."
By nighttime, Denzel seemed to be a lot better. His stomach stopped hurting, fever completely gone, and even his headache vanished. Of course, he'd have to take it easy for the rest of the weekend, but he didn't care. At least that was over with.
By Monday, when he returned to school, that pesky kid who always stole his pencils was absent. Must've fallen sick.
He simply smirked, taking a seat at his desk. No pencil stealing today!