Chapter Text
It's been a long, long night. Emily lies beside Spencer, unable to sleep. Spencer's body is hot against hers, and every so often, the girl lets out a soft whimper that breaks Emily's heart. Despite the medicine she's been pushing on Spencer, Spence isn't doing well. Her fever's spiked several times since earlier in the night, and both girls haven't gotten much sleep.
Spencer rolls over fitfully and begins to cough painfully for about the millionth time that night. Emily reaches for Spencer's bottle of water, but finds it empty. Shit.
A wave of exhaustion washes over her as she gets out of bed. Sometimes, Spencer's coughing fits stop on their own, but Emily can tell by the rattle in the girl's breath that this one is going to be a doozy. Spencer's already gagged and spit up once that night. Emily recognizes it from her own previous illnesses – that cough is the vomity type of cough. And vomit is just something she can't really deal with.
Spencer's eyes open and she sits up, clutching her chest, her entire body shaking from the cough. Emily turns swiftly to run down the stairs to refill Spencer's water bottle, and for a moment, as she runs the water, she hears Spencer clearing her throat and trying to get herself under control. Filling the bottle to the top, Emily screws the nipple back on and runs back up the stairs to see Spencer start to gag.
"Okay, Spence, it's right here. Take a sip and breathe," instructs Emily, and Spencer sucks on the bottle for a moment. Crisis averted. Her cheeks fade from bright red back to pale, and she slumps in exhaustion on the bed, her eyes closing. Emily isn't even sure she's totally woken up.
Emily runs a hand under Spencer's bottom. So far, so good. The other girl hasn't wet through her latest diaper and pajama pants yet, though every coughing fit has ended with her needing a diaper change. Emily hauls out the supplies from under Spencer's side of the bed and gently eases off Spencer's pants, meaning to change her diaper. But Spencer starts to shiver at the sudden exposure and after a moment, she whimpers again, the hoarseness of her voice heartbreaking.
Emily's beginning to think she can't handle this anymore. Spencer is getting no better. She's just getting worse.
She gets back into bed and feels Spencer move towards her, her arms fastening around Emily's waist again. Spencer is so clingy right now, Emily feels almost touched out. But how can she leave the poor sick girl in bed alone? Spencer is often waking up with nightmares or completely disoriented.
So instead of moving away from Spencer's arms, she turns over and cuddles her friend close to her. Spencer just sighs and her thumb goes into her mouth. The rhythmic sucking lulls Emily to sleep, too, and for another hour or so, the two girls sleep without incident.
The next time Emily wakes up, it's because Spencer is crying. It's more than just a whimper – she's full-on sobbing.
"Oh, Spence." Emily smooths Spencer's sweaty hair away from her forehead. "What's wrong?"
"I don't feel good," wails Spencer, rubbing her eyes. "I feel awful, Emily!"
Emily presses a kiss to Spencer's head. "I know, sweetheart. It's time for more medicine anyway, okay?"
Emily expects Spencer to refuse, but instead, Spencer just nods, which Emily finds strange. She lays a hand on Spencer's forehead and snatches it away. Spencer is burning hot, more than she's been all night.
"Oh, Spencer. I think it's time . . ." Emily trails off as Spencer fixes her fever-bright eyes on Emily.
"Time for what?" whimpers Spencer, rubbing a hand across her nose. Emily wrinkles her nose and pulls a tissue from the box beside the bed. Spencer clenches the tissue in her fist and scrubs at her face, then whimpers and starts to sob again.
"Time to call your parents." Emily doesn't want to do this. She knows it's going to upset Spencer to hear this, and sure enough, Spencer inhales and opens her mouth, probably to wail more loudly, but her breath catches in her throat and she starts to cough, hard. This time, the cough isn't the dry cough she's had all night. This time, Emily can hear her lungs fighting to rid themselves of the sickness she has.
"Slow down, Spence. Try to breathe," advises Emily, handing Spencer her bottle. But before Spencer can take a sip, she starts to gag. Emily gets out of bed and comes around to help Spencer with her bottle.
"No, you can get through this. Shhh. Just breathe." Emily starts to rub Spencer's back in slow movements, but Spencer clutches her stomach, gags again, and then vomits all over herself. After a shocked moment in which there's complete silence, her face crumples and she freezes, beginning to sob without any sound at all.
Emily is horrified.
She can't help it – she turns away from Spencer and runs down the stairs to where her phone is. At this point, she doesn't even think about Spencer trying to get up and follow her – she quickly dials her mother's number.
It's still early, about 7 AM – but Emily knows her mother will pick up. And sure enough, after a second, her mother answers the phone in her matter-of-fact voice.
"Hello?"
"Mom?" Emily's usually calm, modulated voice cracks. "Mom . . . I need help."
"Em? Honey, where are you? Did you stay at your friend's last night? You're supposed to let us know . . ."
"I'm sorry," whimpers Emily, her voice sounding very young. "Mommy . . . Spencer is really sick. We're in her barn loft. She's got a high fever and she just threw up and she's coughing a lot."
From upstairs, Emily hears Spencer beg, "Emily . . . don't call them. Don't call them, I'm sorry . . ."
Emily's mother sounds concerned. "Honey, why isn't she with her parents? How long have you been over there?"
Emily starts to cry. "She called me last night. They had a fight and she's been out here all night. She doesn't want me to call them, but Mommy, I'm so scared. She's so sick and she won't let me go and I don't know what to do!"
Emily's mother sounds calm and reassuring. "Okay, baby. It's okay. I'll be right there, okay? I'm going to give her parents a call. Can you go up there and stay with her?"
"She's a big mess. She threw up everywhere," whimpers Emily, and her mother chuckles a little bit, wryly, on the other end.
"Okay. I'll be right there. Do you have any changes of clothes? Is she still in diapers? Does she have any supplies at all?"
Emily shakes her head on the phone, forgetting her mother can't see her. "I have another set of PJs, I think, but she doesn't have any diapers left . . . not that I can see in here, anyway. And her parents only give her the pull-up kind."
Emily's mother hums a little, sounding as if she's writing things down. "Okay. I'll bring over everything. Hang on, okay?"
"Okay," Emily rubs a hand across her exhausted eyes. "Come quickly."
"Okay. I love you, baby. You're being a brave girl."
Hearing her mother speak to her as if she's still little helps Emily find her strength again. "I love you, too."
Emily hangs up the phone and looks up the stairs at the loft. She can't just leave Spencer like that, but . . . the vomit is so disgusting, Emily is actually afraid she might vomit, too.
She can hear Spencer whimpering, sounding utterly spent and defeated. When Emily goes upstairs, she finds Spencer trying with all her might to get out of bed, holding her wet, smelly shirt out from her chest.
"Oh, Spence. Don't do that. My mom is going to be here soon."
Spencer looks up, her face deathly white. "I can do it," she whispers, her voice almost gone. "I can do it myself."
Emily steps closer to Spencer, feeling awkward. "No, just wait. My mom will help you get changed."
Spencer won't look at Emily, and Emily finds it strange, being as Spencer was very clingy not five minutes ago. "I can do it. Don't call her," she says, trying to get some of her old authority back in her voice, but failing miserably. That's when Emily realizes that Spencer isn't just messy from vomit. She's messy in other ways, too.
Emily's face creases in sympathy. "It's okay. It was an accident."
"Don't call her," whispers Spencer, her voice starting to crack. "Don't tell her."
"Honey . . . she's going to know anyway, she has to help you get in the bath," says Emily, trying to calm Spencer down. As she takes another tentative step towards her friend, she hears a sharp knock on the barn loft's door.
"My mom is here, Spencer. Don't move. Stay where you are," commands Emily, and runs down the stairs. When she sees her mother at the door, she throws her arms around her and starts to cry.
"Mommy . . . you're here!"
Mrs. Fields wraps her arms around her daughter. "It's okay. I'm here. Shh. It's okay."
"She's a big mess," says Emily, wiping her eyes and trying to be mature. "She's covered in puke and she's pooped her pants, too. She needs a bath."
"She needs her parents," says Mrs. Fields darkly, but says nothing else for the moment. She hefts a big bag with a change of clothes, a few diapers, and a jacket and a pair of shoes. "We're going to move her out of here once she's clean. It's nice, of course, but Spencer needs someone to look after her if she's this sick."
"I've been trying," says Emily, feeling defeated. "But she just got so sick, so quickly . . ."
"Oh, honey," Emily's mother says, turning around and stroking her daughter's hair. "You've done so well. Far and away what anyone would expect from a friend. Spencer's a lucky girl to have you. But you need to call me next time if you're going to stay with a friend all night, okay?"
Emily nods, and they climb the stairs together to find Spencer lying on her side in a fetal position, facing the wall of the loft.
Mrs. Fields puts her bag down and gently puts a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Spence? Sweetie? It's Emily's mom. It's Mrs. Fields."
Spencer turns her head and her face crumples in exhaustion. "Don't look," she begs. "I'm sorry."
"Oh, honey." Emily's mother kneels beside her. "It was an accident. It's okay. You're not in trouble." Her soothing voice makes Emily feel calmer, and it appears to do the same to Spencer. After a moment, Spencer lets Mrs. Fields peel back the sodden covers, exposing her messy pajamas and smelly body.
"We're going to get you into a bath," says Mrs. Fields calmly, "and then we're going to move you over to our house, okay? You're too sick to stay by yourself here."
Spencer appears to be taking everything in, but when Mrs. Fields mentions moving, she starts to whimper. "I don't want to go. I want to stay here," she rasps, and Mrs. Fields strokes back Spencer's sweaty hair.
"I know. But you need someone to take care of you. And Emily's tired. She needs to sleep."
"I want my mom," whispers Spencer, and Mrs. Fields' mouth hardens.
"I know, sweetheart. I know you do. I'm going to try to get ahold of them, okay? And then you can go home to your own bed."
"Mommy's going to be mad at me," says Spencer, and her chest hitches painfully with a sob. "I was bad."
"No, you're just sick, sweetie. Come on. Let's get a bath and a fresh change of clothes, and then we'll move you over to our house when you're ready, okay?"
"I need a bath," agrees Spencer, and Emily's mother nods as she accepts Spencer's bottle from Emily, who also hands her some cold medicine.
"Here, sweetheart. You take these and they'll help your fever. Oh, you're so sick, aren't you?" By now, Spencer is pressed into Emily's mother's side, and Emily feels a slight stab of jealousy. It's been so long since her mother has used that soft voice and gentle tone with her. Spencer obediently opens her mouth and takes the pills, and then drinks thirstily at her bottle for a few seconds until she feels ready to get up.
Mrs. Fields has to help Spencer get out of bed – the girl is so weak that her legs start to wobble as soon as she puts weight on them. Immediately, Spencer begins to cough, and Emily's mother gently puts the bottle to Spencer's lips again.
"We're going to take this nice and slow, Spencer. And it's okay if you can't make it to the bathroom. We'll just give you a little sponge bath here in bed, okay?"
"Made a mess," whimpers Spencer hoarsely, her hands fisting around Mrs. Field's shirt collar. Mrs. Fields gently rubs Spencer's back.
"It's okay. We're going to get you nice and clean. Oh, sweetie. Shh, don't cry," she adds, as Spencer's face begins to crumple again. "It's not a big deal."
Emily's own face twists a little, her jealousy taking over, and she goes downstairs to start running the bath for Spencer, just to feel useful. Of course it's okay that her mom is taking care of Spencer . . . isn't it? What's wrong with Emily's brain right now?
It takes almost five minutes, but Mrs. Fields is able to carefully walk Spencer down the stairs and into the bathroom. She smiles at her daughter, waiting by the bathtub, looking anxious and like she wants to be useful.
"Em, sweetie, can you go up and strip the bed? We'll wash the sheets you two used last night with the rest of Spencer's laundry. And then you can just go on home if you'd like, get into bed. I've got it from here. And you look so tired, baby."
Emily shakes her head firmly. "No, I want to stay and help." She bites her lip, avoiding her mother's direct gaze. She doesn't know if her mother can tell that she's jealous, but she doesn't want to let on that she is. That just seems selfish.
Spencer sinks in exhaustion onto the closed lid of the toilet, her body shivering with the effort of coming downstairs. Mrs. Fields looks at her critically and then turns back to Emily.
"I know your father just got home two days ago, but I really don't think Spencer can make it even across the yard to our house. Can you ask him to come in about half an hour? If we're going to move her, he's going to have to carry her."
A big lump settles in Emily's throat at that. Carry her? But . . . her dad stopped carrying her, Emily, when she was about eleven, citing she was too big. She's taller and slightly heavier than Spencer, but the two girls are pretty much the same height and weight. How come Spencer isn't too heavy?
Emily shakes her head, trying to clear the unwanted thoughts. "Of course, Mom. He should be up by now, right?"
"Yes, sweetie, he was up when you called." Mrs. Fields turns back to Spencer and smiles softly at her. Spencer is yawning and rubbing her eyes. "Arms up, sweetheart."
Spencer obediently raises her arms, and Mrs. Fields takes off Spencer's smelly, damp shirt. "Good girl. I'm going to need you to stand up to get the rest, okay?"
Spencer nods, but her lower lip starts trembling at the thought of Mrs. Fields having to see the mess she made in her diaper. She hasn't made a mess like that in a long time . . . not for at least a year. That's the first thing teenagers get trained for!
Mrs. Fields strokes her hair. "Do you need a minute, Spence?"
Spencer shakes her head and stands up, closing her eyes in exhaustion and embarrassment. Not only is Mrs. Fields going to have to deal with her disgusting mess, she's also going to see her completely naked. No one has seen her completely naked since Emily did last night . . . and it was different then.
Mrs. Fields carefully undresses Spencer. "Put your hands on my shoulders, sweetie. I don't want you to fall over."
Spencer refuses to open her eyes, but does as Emily's mother tells her. She carefully picks up her right foot so that Mrs. Fields can take off her pants, but wobbles dangerously. Mrs. Fields catches Spencer by the elbow and calls her daughter over.
"Em, take Spencer by the arm, please, and hold her upright so that I can get these pants off her, will you?"
Emily obeys, holding Spencer firmly. Spencer turns into Emily and buries her face in her friend's shoulder. Emily doesn't really want to, but she strokes Spencer's tangled hair. If this is hard for Emily, it has to be ten times harder for the sick girl.
Now Spencer is just dressed in her messy diaper. Emily doesn't want to see any of this, so she closes her eyes and tries to breathe through her nose. Mrs. Fields quickly and carefully removes the diaper and wipes down Spencer with the baby wipes. In another moment, she's got Spencer by the arm and together, she and Emily help the sick girl into the bathtub.
Once Spencer is in the bath, her face relaxes completely. She lies back in the warm water, her head pillowed on the side of the tub, and closes her eyes.
"No, Spencer. Don't go to sleep," says Emily's mother, a little more firmly than the tone she's been using. "Stay awake, sweetie. Once you're clean, Mr. Fields will come over and we'll get you into bed at our house, okay?"
Spencer opens her eyes and rubs them with her wet fists. "I'm sorry," she says faintly. "I'm just so tired."
Emily's mother begins to wash Spencer down with lavender shower gel. The bathroom begins to smell pleasant, and Emily looks at her mother questioningly.
"Can I go and get Spencer's clothes ready?"
"That would be a help, dear. Thank you." Mrs. Fields is running warm water over Spencer's hair, and she turns her attention back to Spencer. "How does that feel, sweetie?"
"Really good," says Spencer, her eyes closed. For the first time all night, a ghost of a smile appears on her face. "It feels so good."
Emily bites her lip again. Her mother hasn't given her a bath in about two years. It's partly because Emily didn't want her to, but looking at Spencer starting to smile and warm up a little bit, her fever clearly coming down from the combination of the warm water and the medicine, Emily feels like she kind of wants her mother to give her a bath, too. Maybe.
She turns and goes up the stairs to the bed, stripping it with a little more force than necessary. Once all the dirty clothes are piled in the bags Emily and her mother brought over, Emily quietly lays out a pair of pajamas, a fresh diaper, and the jacket and shoes.
Her phone buzzes with a text, from her father. "Everything okay over there?"
"We need you to come and carry Spencer to our house," Emily texts back. "She can't really walk well."
After a moment, her father texts back, "When?"
Emily listens for a minute. There's some splashing, and then a definite hoarse giggle from Spencer. Her mother's lower, gentle laughter follows. Emily turns away, her lips twisting, and texts back her father.
"In about 15 mins. We need to get Spencer ready."
Emily puts her phone down and slips back down the stairs, peeking through the cracked door of the bathroom. Emily's mother is supporting Spencer as she climbs carefully out of the tub. After Spencer is standing, albeit very shakily, on the bath mat, Mrs. Fields wraps Spencer in a towel and then draws the girl close for a minute.
Emily knows she shouldn't be watching this, partly because it's kind of killing her inside, but she can't seem to look away.
Spencer's hand wiggles out of the towel and her thumb finds her mouth. She puts her head down on Emily's mother's shoulder and closes her eyes.
Emily's chin quivers and she backs away from the door. She doesn't understand why she feels the way she does. Shouldn't she be happy Spencer is finally being taken care of? And of course Emily's mother doesn't love Emily any less. But . . . she's tired and feeling a bit sick herself, and she wants her mother to look after her that way. Emily has always maintained that she was "too big" for a lot of what her mother is doing with Spencer. It was Emily's choice to get out of diapers early, and in nearly every case, it was Emily's choice to move ahead and be more grown up. So why does she wish she was as little as Spencer is right now?
The bathroom door opens and Spencer shuffles, wrapped in a towel, beside Emily's mother. She's looking sleepy, but she looks a lot happier, and Emily's jealous thoughts stop for a moment as Spencer gives her a shy smile.
"I feel better," she murmurs, and Emily can't help but smile back.
"You look a lot better, Spence."
"Well, she's no longer a big mess, are you, sweetie?" Mrs. Fields gently tickles Spencer's tummy, and Spencer giggles again. Emily looks away.
"I laid out her clothes upstairs. Dad's going to be here in about ten minutes."
"Okay. Thank you, baby." Emily's mother gives her a grateful smile, and Emily feels a little better. If she can't be little, she can at least be useful and grown up, and help her mother with Spencer.
She trails upstairs after them and smiles as Spencer lies down on the clean bed, wriggling a little like a puppy on it.
"Ahh," she breathes, and both Emily and her mother laugh a little bit.
"You feel a lot better, don't you, Spence?" Emily's mother smiles.
Spencer smiles then and nods a little shyly. Now that she does feel better, she feels more than a little embarrassed. A bright red blush comes up on her cheeks, and she turns her face into the mattress, trying to hide just how horrible this is suddenly making her feel.
Emily and her mother exchange a look of concern. Spencer's lower lip is trembling, and her entire body is curling up into a protective fetal position. It appears she's gotten most of her rational thought back with her fever receding.
"Spencer . . . do you need some help getting dressed?" ventures Emily, and Spencer shakes her head firmly.
"I'm okay. How about I call you when I'm ready?" Her voice is still hoarse and weak, and Mrs. Fields shakes her head firmly.
"No, sweetie, I'm going to give you a hand. I don't want you to fall. You might feel a little better, but I think you're still pretty weak."
Spencer knows Mrs. Fields is right, but . . . the entire night floods back to her. How she cried, pooped herself, threw up on herself . . . both Emily and her mother have seen her in the worst positions ever. How is she ever going to live this down?
Mrs. Fields gently strokes Spencer's curling hair. "How about we get you dressed and then over to our place, and you can sleep for a while? I think this is pretty overwhelming for you, isn't it?"
All Spencer wants is to lapse back into the state where it was okay for Mrs. Fields to take care of her, but now that she realizes just how embarrassing this is, she can't help but clap her hands over her face and stifle several horrified sobs.
Emily sits beside Spencer. "Spence. It's okay. No one is judging you. You're going to get cold." She rubs the spot between Spencer's shoulders that always gets stiff from leaning over books for hours and hours when she studies. And after a moment, Spencer leans into Emily.
Emily nods at her mother. "I think she's ready now."
Mrs. Fields gently unwraps Spencer's towel from around her thin body, exposing her to the air. Spencer begins to shiver, and the blush on her cheeks flushes bright red as all of her is exposed. Emily finds this sort of interesting, as Spencer didn't seem to have a problem with Emily seeing her naked last night. But again, she was really sick, so that could be why she didn't seem to care.
Mrs. Fields is quick. She diapers Spencer securely (and Emily notes with amusement that though Spencer is still exposed on the top, she relaxes visibly once her diaper is on) and then puts on a pair of Emily's winter pajamas. They're soft and grey with snowflakes printed all over them, the shirt long-sleeved. When Spencer is finally dressed, she sighs in relief, and then her smile appears again.
"Thank you," she murmurs. "For everything. I just . . . thanks."
Mrs. Fields strokes Spencer's curls again and then kneels down to put on her socks. "I'm sure you must feel a lot better now. We're going to try to get some food into you when we get to our house." She grins a little as Spencer shakes her head vehemently.
"No, you're going to have a little something. You haven't eaten since yesterday, I'd imagine, and you've got to be hungry, sweetheart."
Straightening up, Mrs. Fields picks up her phone and gives her husband a call. "Hi, honey. Yeah, she's ready to go. I'll get her coat on and see you in a minute." As she hangs up, she nods at Emily.
"Honey, can you go down and open the door for Dad? I'm going to get a coat on Spencer and we'll go over to our house." Efficiently, Mrs. Fields picks up the dirty towels, Spencer's dirty pajamas, and the sheets Emily has left on the bedroom floor and packs them into the bag she brought. Then she puts the warm coat she brought over on Spencer, zipping it securely, and cups the sick girl's chin affectionately.
"Ready to go now, I guess." Mrs. Fields' friendly dark eyes sparkle at Spencer, and Spencer nods. She doesn't really feel comfortable leaving the barn, but she does know she can't take care of herself. Not like this.
Just then, Emily's father, all 6'3" of him, comes up the stairs. He grins at Spencer. "I guess someone's not feeling well?" His booming voice is a little loud, and Spencer has to resist the urge to cover her ears. Emily's father is a jovial, very nice man, but she doesn't know him well. He's always been away on army tours and she's only met him a few times.
"Okay, Spence. We'll have you over to our house in just a few ticks." He comes to the bed and carefully lifts Spencer's long-limbed body, easily swinging her up into a cradle position in his arms. Spencer's blush comes back with a vengeance, and she covers her face, knowing she seems ungrateful.
Mr. Fields laughs a little bit. "What, this isn't dashing enough for you?"
Emily smiles, but her voice is reproving. "Dad. She'd really rather walk."
"And I can!" Spencer starts to struggle to get down. "I can walk, it's okay, really. In fact, I can just stay here. That's okay." Her voice starts to crack, and Mrs. Fields puts a hand on her shoulder.
"Spencer. It's okay. None of this is any trouble. Just relax."
Spencer's chin starts to quiver, and Emily grabs her hand. "It's okay. Shh. Just let my dad take it from here. No one thinks this is in any way strange."
"I want my mom," whispers Spencer, knowing she sounds like a baby, but she suddenly does. Badly. She wants her mom, and her own bed, and a cold washcloth on her forehead, and her favourite bottle filled with warm milk.
Mrs. Fields' face twists in sympathy. "I know, sweetheart. We're going to call them when we get you to our house. Go, hon," she says, gently pushing on her husband's shoulder. Mr. Fields gets a better grip on Spencer and carries her down the stairs and out the door of the barn.
The light is bright and the air is cold. Spencer involuntarily shrinks into Mr. Fields, her eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. In a few minutes, though, they're standing in the foyer of the Fields' home, and Mr. Fields starts to climb the stairs.
"Where are we putting her?"
Spencer winces at that. She feels like such a burden.
Mrs. Fields calls up the stairs. "In the spare room. Emily needs her room. She's exhausted." Downstairs, Mrs. Fields starts to take off her daughter's coat. Emily has been holding it together admirably until now, but she's starting to crumble. Her lower lip begins to shake as her mother gently removes her coat and then kneels to untie her shoes.
Upstairs, Mr. Fields gently places Spencer on the bed and pulls back the covers. "There you go, young lady. Just rest, okay? We're going to give your parents a call and we'll let you know when you can go back home. But for now, let's not overdo it." His usually harsh voice is softer, and Spencer crawls into bed, sinking gratefully into the soft pillows. Mrs. Fields' home is like a magazine spread – everything is so fancy and comfortable.
Snuggling into the pillows, her thumb finds her mouth and closing her eyes in exhaustion, Spencer is asleep before Mr. Fields can leave the room.
Finally, she feels somewhat safe.