Work Text:
"Maya?" Carina's shout was more of a groan. "Bambina?"
"Mommy, I think Mamma is kind of yelling for you." Liam’s shout was definitely a shout. The sound reverberated off the inside of Carina’s skull, bouncing about like a pinball stuck in a maze.
"Inside voices," she croaked, but he was gone, feet thundering back down the hall.
"Hi babe, Liam said you were calling for me," Maya whispered, sticking her head through their bedroom door, the movement sending a dull throb behind her eyes.
"Shhhh," Carina groaned, pulling her pillow further over her head.
"I'm- whispering..." Maya said, lowering her volume more, as she tiptoed further into the room, coming to a stop on Carina's side of the bed. "Shit babe."
"Mmmm."
"Oh my god you look-" Maya reached down and set her hand on Carina's forehead, immediately pulling it back. "Shit honey, you're burning up."
"Mmmm."
"I mean I don't feel great." That was true, she didn't, she'd woken up with a splitting headache and her body kept cycling through the sweats and shivers. "But you're- you're burning."
Carina exhaled slowly, "think... flu... work."
"Yeah, no, you definitely have the flu. Okay- shit- uh-" Her thoughts slipped sideways, the headache refusing to let anything line up properly.
Maya rubbed her temples. “Okay, let me get you some Tylenol.”
Carina made a weak, unhappy sound. “No.”
Maya blinked. “No?”
“Need to know,” Carina murmured. “How high.”
“You’re burning up,” Maya said softly, "that's all that matters."
“Thermometer,” Carina insisted. “Please.”
"What if I give you tylenol and then go and find the thermometer," Maya suggested.
"Thermometer. Maya."
“Okay. But I’m taking this off you, you only need the top sheet,” Maya said, already bracing herself as she grabbed the edge of the thick duvet. Her limbs screamed in response, but she managed to remove it, tossing it unceremoniously on the floor, as heat surged through her body again.
"I feel..."
"I know baby," Maya pressed a shaky kiss to the top of Carina’s head which was drenched in sweat. "I'll be right back."
Maya moved as fast as her body let her… which wasn't very fast. It was barely a jog, her head spinning, as she moved clumsily down the corridor, avoiding a dump truck with a barbie half way down.
She was relieved when the cabinet came into view, the edges rippling like some kind of mirage.
She fumbled with the handle of the cabinet, trying to get it to open, until her eyes finally focused-
Of course.
The keypad.
She typed the date automatically.
Wrong.
The keypad chirped, sharp and loud enough to make her wince.
Her fingers felt thick, uncooperative. She tried again, slower this time, numbers blurring as her head pulsed.
Then-
"Mommy-"
The sound hit her like a spike behind the eyes.
Andrea appeared around the door.
"Hi sweetie," Maya said, in an attempt to sound cheerful. She pinched between her eyes and tried to refocus her attention on the numbers.
"Ducks… wawapoof chickens?"
Maya looked down at her, and sighed. "No, baby, ducks are not just waterproof chickens. They're their own species."
"Spe-ees?"
"Yeah, species," Maya said, resting her forehead against the cool cabinet doors.
"Mommy back wet? Why?"
"It just is," Maya mumbled, pulling back, steeling herself for another attempt at the lock. She moved slowly. "Eight-two-two-oh."
She sagged with relief as the cabinet clicked open, her fingers fumbling to open it before it locked again.
Tylenol. Ibuprofen. Box of bandaids. Therm-
"Shit."
The thermometer cradle was empty.
"Mommy, not upposed to say."
"Sorry baby," Maya said, internally wanting to cry as she searched every other shelf for the thermometer that should have been in its cradle.
"Fuck," she swore under her breath, disguising it with a cough, that tumbled into a real one and had her doubled over the sink for a moment.
Her eyes fell on the oral thermometer on the shelf and her body sagged in relief again as she grabbed it. She pulled the cap off, rinsed it under the tap and stuck it under her tongue. After an age it gave a feeble beep. She pulled it out and frowned.
212 Fahrenheit.
"Huh?" She put her hand on her forehead before realising it was probably broken. She clicked it again, seeing what it thought room temperature was... dropping it into the sink when it read 158.
"Ugh," she groaned, dragging her hand over her face.
"Okay, come on Maya, where would the thermometer be?" She pressed the heel of her hands into her eyes.
Okay. Think.
Kitchen first. That’s where it usually ends up.
She moved a little faster now, focusing on the fact that Carina really wasn't feeling well and she needed the thermometer.
In the kitchen she paused for a moment, as if reminding herself what she was looking for, and then she was off, pulling open a drawer, then another. She moved the knife block, looked in the spice rack and then went back to the drawer, lifting the cutlery organiser to make sure it definitely wasn't there.
Nothing.
Her head pounded harder.
"Okay," she mumbled, leaning against the counter before taking off again, back up the stairs and into the bathroom, where she pulled out the drawers and checked the lower cabinets.
Still no sign of the thermometer.
Back downstairs and this time the living room, desperation filled her chest as she lifted blankets and cushions, checked down the side of the couch and bent to look under the coffee table, gripping it hard when a wave of dizziness made the floor feel like it was falling from underneath her.
She stayed there for a moment, breathing through it, knuckles white against the edge of the coffee table until the room settled back into place.
“Okay,” she muttered again.
Upstairs.
She took the steps slower this time, one hand sliding along the wall. She pushed into their bedroom first. The en suite felt like a good idea. A logical one. Adult space. Somewhere the thermometer might have been left without small hands intervening.
She checked the counter. The little tray by the sink. The drawer beneath it.
Nothing.
Her throat tightened.
She crouched and opened the cabinet under the sink, shifting bottles and spare toilet paper, even though she knew it wouldn’t be there.
Still, she looked.
Nothing.
Maya sat back on her heels, the tile cold through her leggings, and closed her eyes for a beat longer than she meant to.
She opened them again, leaning her head against the wall, looking to her left at Carina. Even in the darkness she could see her wife was extremely pale.
It was enough to force her brain to think of other places it could be.
"Liam-" she muttered, clumsily pulling herself to her feet.
His stomach was hurting. A few nights ago.
A memory of her retrieving the thermometer from the cabinet surfaced.
They'd checked his temperature. Carina had put it on his bedside table in case they needed it again.
Of course.
She moved clumsily out of the en suite and back to the door, past her wife who had curled into a ball now, shivering a little.
Liam’s room was chaos. The little one had been playing in his room for hours before coming to wake Maya up. She dodged toys making her way over to the little Toy Story themed bedside table, practically holding back tears when she didn't see the thermometer she knew had been there only a couple of days ago.
Helpless, she decided to try Andrea's room. The chances of it being in there were slim. But it was worth the shot.
She hesitated, then leaned in, checking the nightstand, the shelf above the bed, the windowsill crowded with picture books.
Nothing.
She stood there for a second, heat prickling along her spine, her head pounding hard enough to make her vision pulse.
She had checked everywhere she could think of.
Which meant-
Maya turned back toward the stairs and forced herself down them, each step heavier than the last. Liam was on the floor of the living room, building something elaborate out of blocks, humming to himself.
She lowered herself onto the ground next to him carefully, feeling like her body might crack and shatter if she moved too fast.
"Hi buddy, how's it going?"
"Good... woah Mommy, you're all gross."
"I know, I've been… working out," she lied, plucking at her pyjama top. "I have a question for you."
"Uh-huh."
"Do you remember when your belly didn't feel good and Mamma put the thermometer in your ear?" Maya rambled, "do you know where it went?"
"The mermometer?" He asked, as he bashed two wooden alphabet blocks together, the sound shooting through Maya’s skull crescendoing the pain to the point where she wanted to cover her ears and curl in a ball.
"Mmm-hmm," she said, with a wince.
"Uhm. In der doctor tikt."
"Oh- right, yes, the doctor kit, okay, thank you buddy."
She stood up slowly, closing her eyes in order to steady herself, before walking over to the toy box, rummaging through until her hand closed around the doctor kit. Once again, her heart sank as she flipped the lid and found no thermometer.
"It's not in here," she sighed, tears brimming her eyes.
"Yeah, it right here, Mommy," he said, pointing to something in the box. She wiped her eyes and looked down, fresh tears falling when his little hand closed innocently around the toy thermometer.
"Do you know where the real one is? The one we put in your ear and it goes beep?" She asked, an air of dejectedness in her voice.
"Oh. Uhm. Nuh-uh, I forgotted."
"Okay," Maya nodded, "thanks for your help bud."
She tipped her head forward, trying to coral her dwindling strength into some motivation to keep looking for a thermometer that could literally be anywhere by now.
"I hep you find it, Mommy. I hep."
His hand was small, rubbing her back softly, his eyes big and curious.
"I hep, Mommy. Is okay, I hep."
Maya hesitated.
Every part of her wanted to say no. Wanted quiet. Wanted to sit down and not move again.
But Liam was already tugging gently at her sleeve.
“I hep, Mommy,” he said again, like a promise.
“Okay,” she murmured, because she didn’t have the energy to argue with hope. “Okay. You can help.”
He beamed and immediately took off, dragging her toward the hallway with no particular destination in mind.
"Woah, okay, Mommy can't do fast today," Maya said weakly, as she stumbled after him, using every available surface for stability as the world tilted left and right.
They checked places that made no sense at all.
Behind the downstairs toilet. Inside the coat closet. Under the stairs where they kept his trike.
"Oh! Ut-stairs now!" He said suddenly taking off again, still holding her hand as he thundered up them.
He dragged her along to the bathroom, where they found Andrea making potions in the bath.
"Oh god, okay," Maya mumbled, letting go of Liam’s hand so she could pick her daughter up. She was covered in bubble bath, her pyjamas saturated.
"Oh god, Andrea," Maya groaned, sitting her on the closed lid of the toilet so she could strip her off.
"Mommy, look up der, in der. The mermometer is in der!" Liam shouted, his voice echoing off the walls in the small space.
Maya's headache had quadrupled since entering the bathroom between her shouting son and the pungent fragrance of bubble bath and bath bombs coming from her daughter.
"You're right," she said softly, peeling Andrea’s top over her head, "that's where it should be. But it's missing."
"Oh-" Liam said, frowning, "can I has a bath with Andrea too?"
"Andrea's having a shower, and no, you have baths in the evening." Maya said, as she turned the shower on and Andrea screeched in anticipatory annoyance.
"Mommy, no."
"I have to, Andrea, it's not good for your skin," Maya said, exasperated, as she checked the temperature of the water and lowered a now screaming Andrea into the tub, hosing her down as quickly as possible.
"Liam, can you find Andrea's towel," she called over her shoulder as she rinsed the sticky mess from Andrea.
"It's right here, Mommy," he said, appearing next to her holding the duck towel.
"Thank you."
She shut off the shower, bundled a very unhappy Andrea into the duck towel... which made her a tiny bit happier and looked down at Liam.
"It's not in here, where else could it be?" She asked him, settling Andrea onto her hip, pleased her cries had quieted into a whimper.
"Uh, my room." He pulled her that way.
"Woah, it's messy, Mommy."
"Yeah," Maya sighed, "it is."
Liam got to work searching in his own little three-year-old way, whilst she stood there, leaning against the bedroom wall, holding Andrea.
"Oh! Mommy's phone," he said, handing it to her.
Maya blinked confused. Why was her phone in Liam’s room?
Maya took the phone automatically, her fingers curling around it like muscle memory.
“Thanks, buddy,” she said, even as her gaze stayed fixed on the screen.
Her brain snagged on a single thought, looping uselessly.
Where is the thermometer?
She opened her messages without really thinking about it, Andy’s name already there from the last time she’d meant to reply and hadn’t.
Her thumbs moved slowly.
Thewmomwter carina hot. Flu. suck.
The words swam on the page. Her fingers fumbled.
She tossed her phone onto the bed, she didn't need it any more. Her head throbbing.
“Okay,” she muttered. “Okay. Keep looking.”
“It has to be somewhere,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “Where did the thermometer go…”
"Oh oh oh! Mommy Mamma's room!" He shouted, taking her hand, pulling her once again.
"Mommy and Mamma's bedroom," Maya repeated after him then stopped.
Her breath caught.
“No,” she said quickly, sharper than she meant to, and Liam stopped, startled.
She crouched in front of him, the movement making her head swim. “Mamma’s sleeping, okay? She needs quiet.”
“Oh,” he whispered, nodding solemnly. “Okay.”
He took her hand instead, smaller now, gentler.
The phone buzzed again. And again.
It was long forgotten.
"Maybe the Kimchen."
"Maybe the kitchen," Maya said, watching him bump down the stairs on his butt.
"Snack for Andrea," the little one said, patting her chest.
"Me too!" Liam shouted.
"Right, yeah okay, uh. Did I feed you breakfast?"
"Uh-huh, you had cereals, but you didn't really wanna eat it. And Drea and me and Drea had uhm. We had-"
"Che-ohs and nana." Andrea contributed.
"Yeah! We had cheerios and bananas."
"That's good," Maya said, pinching the bridge of her nose, leaning against the counter.
"Can you get us a snack Mommy?"
"Right, yeah. I can. Uh..." she opened the fridge. "Applesauces, made by Mamma?"
Both kids cheered loudly and it took all of Maya’s effort not to double over gripping her head.
"Okay," she said weakly, passing them each a pouch of applesauce.
She walked over to the couch, spent and laid down. She just needed a second.
Andrea clambered up next to her, animosity from her shower forgotten as she leaned against Maya’s chest. Liam clambered up too, rummaging in the couch cushion before pulling out the remote.
"What film Mommy?"
"Anything," Maya mumbled, her eyes fluttering closed.
"Boobie." Andrea said with a mouth of applesauce.
"Oh yeah! The Bluey movie!" Liam shouted. "Can you hep, Mommy?"
"Mmm-hmm," she opened one eye and navigated to the Bluey Movie for them, curling up further as a chill replaced the burning fever she'd had for a while.
The opening music filled the room, bright and loud, and Maya flinched before it settled into something manageable. Andrea’s settled fully against her chest now, warm and heavy in a way that felt grounding. Liam kicked his feet, already absorbed.
Maya let herself go loose.
Just for a second.
Or maybe it was a few minutes.
The thought came anyway.
I never found the thermometer.
Her eyes snapped open.
For a moment she lay there, staring at the ceiling, waiting for her brain to argue with it. To supply an excuse. A reason. Anything.
It didn’t.
She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry.
Carina needed the thermometer.
She’d checked everywhere. Upstairs. Downstairs. The kids’ rooms. The bathroom. The kitchen. Over and over, in circles, until the house had blurred together.
And Carina was still upstairs.
Burning up.
“Okay,” Maya whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
She shifted Andrea, who had started to drift off at some point, onto her side on the sofa, covering her in a blanket. She sighed, barely stirring. Liam didn’t look away from the screen, utterly absorbed.
Maya sat up slowly, the movement making her head throb again, and waited for the room to stop tilting.
It didn’t, not really.
She stood anyway.
“I’m just going to check on Mamma,” she said quietly. "I'll be right back."
Neither of them answered.
The stairs felt akin to mount Everest as she climbed up them, gripping the handrail for support. She shouldn't have laid on the couch, her body hurt more now, everything felt sluggish and heavy.
She pushed open their bedroom door and found Carina sprawled out on her front again.
"C'rina," she breathed, wanting nothing more than to sink onto the bed beside her and sleep off this awful sensation.
Carina groaned.
"I tried. I really did. To find the-"
"Shhhh."
"Sorry," she lowered her volume and tried again. "I'm sorry. I tried. I did try. To find the- the thermom-mometer thermometer. But it's lost. It's not in the- the- thingy in the cabinet. So I started looking and I looked everywhere. In the kitchen. In our bathroom. The living room. Loads of places. And then I remembered Liam. He had a stomach ache and we checked his temperature because... well we just did didn’t we. But it was absolutely not in his room when I looked. And not in Andrea's too but I didn't expect it to be. I asked Liam and it's lost, he doesn't know either. He showed me his toy one and I- oh yeah, I cried. But then we went looking for it. Andrea was playing potions. So I gave her a shower. Uhm. Snacks and a film. So. I don't know where- where it is."
Carina’s eyes opened slowly, focusing on Maya.
"I can't find it."
Carina didn’t answer.
Maya frowned, hovering by the bed. “Babe?”
Carina pushed herself upright, movements careful and stiff, like her body didn’t quite belong to her and was just barely cooperating. She stood, swayed, then reached out to steady herself against the night stand and then the wall.
“Hey-” Maya said, her heartrate kicking up. “What are you doing?”
Carina didn't reply, just started shuffling towards the door.
She winced at the brightness in the hallway. Leaning against the wall until her eyes adjusted, though she still shielded them with her hand.
Maya followed immediately, one hand hovering uselessly at Carina’s elbow, ready to catch her.
Why is she moving? Where is she going?
"Whatever you need, I'll get it for you. You just. You should lie down."
Carina didn't answer. Just continued shuffling down the hallway, using the wall for stability.
She stopped outside of the bathroom.
"Baby? Come on. Get back to bed."
Carina just continued straight, pausing this time outside Liam’s room.
Maya was so confused.
What was going on? Why was she walking around?
Carina kept going.
Down the stairs. Slowly. One step at a time, both hands on the hand rail.
Maya’s confusion sharpened into something like fear.
“Babe,” she said, helpless. “Where are you going?”
Carina said nothing.
Maya followed after her, watching her enter the living room and stop in front of the toy Liam had been playing with earlier.
"Mamma! Mamma! Stiamo guardando il film Bluey, mamma!" Liam shouted, running over to her.
[Mamma! Mamma, we're watching the movie Bluey, mamma!]
Carina screwed her face up and crouched down, almost toppling over. Her knees trembled. Her breath hitched. Maya was there though, tightening her grip on her arm, whilst explaining to Liam and Andrea that, "Mamma's head really hurts, so you have to be quiet. She's not feeling very-"
"Here."
She passed it to Maya and stood up shakily, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
It had been there the whole time. In Liam’s wooden fire house toy.
Maya had looked right past it... twice.
"I-"
Carina was already moving again. She kissed Liam’s forehead and detoured to the couch to press a kiss to sleeping Andrea's hair, before heading back towards the entryway and stairs.
The doorbell rang.
Maya startled, the sound cutting straight through her skull.
“Oh-" she said faintly, looking down at the thermometer still clutched in her hand like proof she hadn’t imagined the last hour.
Carina paused at the bottom of the stairs. She turned just enough to look back at Maya, her expression unreadable through the haze of pain and exhaustion.
"It's okay," she said softly, "I've got it."
Carina nodded once, swaying a little and continued upstairs.
“Mamma!” Liam shouted. “Door!”
Andrea whimpered and started crying, clearly startled awake by her brother's shout.
"Mommy the door!"
“I know,” Maya muttered. She changed course, moving to the couch to scoop Andrea up, vaguely realising the little one was still only in a towel.
"I'm coming," she called weakly, when the doorbell rang again, her steps uneven as she crossed the living room. Her hand shook as she reached for the handle, bouncing Andrea to soothe her.
The door swung open.
Andy stood there, hair pulled back messily, worry written all over her face.
“Oh my god,” she said immediately. “Maya.”
Maya blinked at her. “Hi.”
Andy’s eyes dropped to the thermometer in her hand, then to Andrea crying in her arms, and Liam clinging to her leg... then back to her face, pale, damp, unfocused.
“You scared the hell out of me,” Andy said, stepping inside without waiting to be invited, immediately taking Andrea off her. “You texted me.”
“I… did?” Maya frowned. “Why? When?"
Andy pulled out her phone, whilst gently shushing Andrea. "Thermometer. Carina hot and flu suck. But I think you meant sick, see," she turned the phone around and showed her.
Maya stared at it, then let out a weak, disbelieving huff of laughter that almost turned into a sob.
Andy gently closed the door behind her. “Okay,” she said briskly, already shrugging out of her coat. “I’ve got the kids. You’re going upstairs.”
“I need to-”
“No,” Andy cut in softly but firmly. “You’ve done enough.”
"But-"
"I'll get them dressed and pack them a bag and they can come and stay at Tia's for the night," Andy said, looking down at Liam, who cheered. "So Mommy and Mamma can sleep off whatever this sickness is."
"I'm- we're okay-"
"Sure you are. Tia's still gonna take them. Oh-" she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a box, "just in case."
Maya stared at the thermometer box, stunned.
"Maya."
"Mmm."
"Bed."
Maya didn’t remember getting upstairs.
Only the bed- cool sheets, Carina’s familiar shape beside her as she collapsed onto it.
She lay there, feeling her whole body ache and pulse. Praying sleep would come.
Something slipped from her hand.
The thermometer.
"Oh."
She turned carefully, brushing Carina’s hair back from her damp forehead, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Sorry,” she murmured, more habit than necessity, as she slipped the thermometer into place and waited.
The screen flashed an angry red as it beeped. Maya pulled it out, holding it closer to her face.
"One-oh-four." She read out. "Shit. One hundred and four."
Even through the haze of her own fever she knew that wasn't good.
"Shit, baby."
She pushed herself upright, looking down at Carina.
Her throat tightened. She checked again, like it might change its mind.
Too high.
Then, automatically, she checked herself, remembering she was sick too.
The thermometer flashed red again: 103.2.
Not as high.
Still not good.
“Okay,” she breathed, like that settled something. "I'll be right back."
It took her three tries to get back out of bed, and longer to navigate the hallway and find the medicine in the cabinet, but she did. Somehow. She could hear Andy downstairs with the kids, speaking to them in Spanish animatedly.
By the time she returned, the room felt too bright, her body too heavy.
"Baby," she croaked, shaky hands taking a glass from Carina’s side of the bed.
Maya fumbled her way to the bathroom sink, setting the glass down too hard. She stared blankly at the tap for a second before remembering what she was doing.
She filled the glass slowly. Half-full. That was enough.
The pill bottle rattled too loudly in her hands. She winced, glancing back toward the bedroom, then fought the childlock on the bottle.
"Stupid-" she got open eventually and tipped four pills into her palm. One bounced, hit the counter, and skittered away onto the floor.
She stared at it for a beat, then mumbled, "can't drop- kiddos," and crouched stiffly to retrieve it, her joints protesting the movement.
By the time she made it back to the bed, she was breathing a little harder, sweat cooling unpleasantly along her spine.
“Okay,” she whispered, more to herself than anything. “Okay.”
She sat carefully, sliding an arm behind Carina’s shoulders to help her up.
“Water,” Maya croaked, pressing the glass into her hand. “Pills. Please.”
Carina’s movements were slow and imprecise, but she took them, swallowing with a grimace before slumping back against the pillows.
Maya watched her for a second too long, eyes tracking the rise and fall of her chest.
Then a hand reached out, warm, unsteady. It pressed gently to Maya’s forehead.
Maya blinked.
“What-"
“Hot,” Carina murmured, her voice barely there. “You too.”
Maya huffed out something that might have been a laugh. “Yeah. I know. I think we both have the flu."
She cupped Carina’s cheek, her fingers grazing over her pale lips.
"Medicine."
"I've got it here," she held up her pills, before taking them, washing them down with the water Carina’s shaky hand passed her.
She set her hand back on Maya’s forehead after that, her fingers lingering, brushing back Maya’s damp hair, her brow furrowing faintly.
“Clothes,” she said after a moment. “Too much.”
Maya nodded immediately, grateful for the instruction, for something simple and concrete to do.
"Right. Yes."
They made clumsy work of it, all elbows and tangled limbs, helping each other peel off sweat-damp fabric. Maya fumbled with buttons that weren’t there. Carina sighed when the cool air hit her skin.
Eventually, they ended up under the covers again, bare skin against cool sheets, the relief almost painful in how good it felt.
Maya curled in close automatically, pressing her forehead to Carina’s shoulder, one leg slung over hers.
Carina’s arm came around her, weak but certain, pulling her in.
Neither of them spoke.
Downstairs the house grew quieter. A door clicked shut. An engine started. Then nothing.
Maya’s breathing evened out first.
Carina followed soon after.
They slept tangled together, heat and comfort and exhaustion all blurring into one.
They were together.
That was all that mattered.