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Sick

Summary:
Okay, this might be the weirdest AU ever, but I thought it would be kind of cute. I got it from the idea of Bella always freaks when Edward's gone from school; what would happen if Bella didn't go one day because she was sick? It's after Port Angeles, but before the meadow. Pretty much, he comes to see what's wrong and has to take care of her.


Notes:


1. Chapter 1: Fine

Rating 3/5   Word Count 1496   Review this Chapter

“Oh, come on, Dad, this is so unfair!” I cried, my voice raspy and my throat sore, as I laid in bed in my sweats, freezing, but sweating as a result of my fever.

How is this unfair?!” Charlie demanded, “Bella, you are not going to school today; you are too sick. You know, it is okay to take a day off now and then--open your mouth.”

“Mm!” I protested, stubbornly, but obliged as he forced the thermometer under my tongue. “But, I want to go to school. I’m fine-d.” I said, around the thermometer.

“Bella!” He reprimanded, “you know, I don’t get it. No self-respecting 17-year-old girl wants to go to school. What’s the matter with you?”

Well, maybe if the self-respecting 17-year-old girl had Edward Cullen to go to school for, she’d want to. Why should I skip school; I felt fine. So what if I had thrown up three times? I wouldn’t breathe on anyone or anything--it would all be totally worth it just so long as I could…look at him. Just see him. Just for two seconds?

The thermometer beeped and Charlie pulled it out. “Oh, my God, Bella! You have to go to the hospital! You have a fever of 105! I’m calling the station; I have to take you in.”

“No!” I yelled, “Dad, please, no, I swear to you, I am totally fine-d. It’s just a little bug; they won’t be able to do anything for me. It’ll go away in time.”

“Very funny, Bella; I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Dad, please. I’ll do anything; just do not make me go to the hospital. The last thing I need is for rumors to be spread or something; you know how much I hate attention.”

Charlie considered that, “About as much as I do.”

“Even more.” I assured him, “Dad…please, please, please, please, please?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. “Okay, fine, no hospital.”

“Thank you.”

“If you stay home from school.”

“Deal,” I said, miserably, rolling away from him, signaling for him to go. He made to touch me, but thought better of it, and left, saying resignedly, “Feel better, Bells. Call if you need anything.”

“Mm-hm,” I choked out, as the door shut behind him.

I laid there, seething in anger, hour after hour, watching my clock--time seeming to last a lifetime. I drifted in and out of consciousness, my pain easing slightly while unconscious, but not much.

I came out of a very uneasy sleep and looked at the clock. Right about now, I’d be going to lunch. God, that was so depressing. I wanted to see him so bad.

The sudden pain of nausea surged through me and I curled up into a ball of pain. I groaned and rubbed my stomach uselessly. “Mm…” I rolled over miserably and gagged slightly before vomiting on my bed, unable to get up and make it to the bathroom.

I vomited three times in a row, without stopping, and then I merely coughed and spit to get out the remains. Oh, God, this was just my luck. I moaned and forced myself to sit up to avoid rolling in it. Crap. Now, I had the taste of vomit in my mouth.

I shuddered and grimaced, “Ugh…” I forced myself to stand up, my legs shaking beneath me. My God, I felt like I weighed 500 pounds. I grabbed onto the wall and used it as support to walk.

It was dark in my room, because my lights were off and the curtains were closed, so I couldn’t see anything. I felt my way around the room, trying to find the light switch, but wound up smacking into the door.

“OW!” I clenched my teeth and fumbled for the door knob. I found it and turned it, struggling to do so, and I opened the door, hitting myself with it. “Sonofa--” I cut myself off and clutched my head, doubling over. “Freakin’--stupid--argh!”

I forced my eyes open and sighed as I used the wall as support again as I staggered my way down the stairs. I could feel my back was drenched in sweat and sweat was dripping down my face and neck and arms.

How could I be so hot; it was practically freezing outside. I raised a trembling hand to wipe off the new beads of sweat and then exhaled shakily. “Oh, God.”

I lost my footing and missed the last step, twisting my ankle and managing to stub my toe at the same time. I almost collapsed but suddenly familiar, cold, strong arms were supporting me.

Oh, no. Oh, God., no. Oh, please, tell me I was dreaming; he couldn’t be here now. Why did he have to come now? “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I said, bitterly.

“You’re welcome,” he said, steadying me.

I sighed, “And, there goes my last shred of dignity. What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, “You weren’t in school, so I was worried. I came to see if you were okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

He smirked, “Oh, I don’t know, it’s not like you have a bad reputation on things like this.”

I rolled my eyes, “Shut up! And, go away. I look like crap.”

He shrugged again, “Eh, I’ve seen worse. I’ve been worse.”

I snorted. Like that was even a possibility. “Do you have to be here now when I’m so…blah? This is utterly humiliating for me.”

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you, Bella, but…to be honest, it looks as if you could use a hand.”

“I’m fine-d!” I insisted, irritably.

He smirked, “When you put a ‘d’ at the end of ‘fine’, you’re not ‘fine’.”

Unable to think clearly, I said, my voice slurring, “Your arsasm is not appreciamatated right now!”

He furrowed his eyebrows, amused, “I’m sorry; what…are you saying?”

“Unh! Shut up! Go away; I mean it. I’m really…really…sick.”

“You just said you were fine.” He reminded me, “Or fine-d.” He stifled a laugh. When he saw my face though, he said, “What’s wrong?” Concern filled his eyes.

“I got the…stupid flu.” I said, bitterly. “God, I never got sick in Phoenix. You know, I blame Forks for this.”

He ignored my ramblings, “Bella, are you okay?”

I wanted to lie and say yes, but what was the point; he’d see right through it anyway. “No…” I shook my head slightly, “Not so much.” I staggered again, falling into his arms again.

“Bella, you’re burning up.” He said, concerned.

“Yeah, I had a temperature of, like, 105 earlier.” I admitted.

Now, he was angry. “You should be in the hospital.”

“Oh, yeah, for what? What are they gonna do? It’s just a bug; they can’t do anything for me.”

He clenched his teeth, “Are you kidding me? Bella, you can’t just--”

“What?” I interrupted him. “What are they going to do, huh; put me on ice or something to cool me off?!” My eyes widened and we both stiffened up as he released me, jerking his hands back as if I had some kind of disease.

“It’ll go away; it’ll go away;…it’ll go away.” I mumbled deliriously, as I bent over and vomited again, retching and heaving. How did I still have anything left on my stomach? I looked to see where I had thrown up and it had all landed on him.

Oh, my God. Why couldn’t I just freakin’ die? Oh, God, tell me this was not happening. I straightened as much as I could and groaned, “GAH! See what I did! Just…leave now…before things get any worse.”

He smiled slightly, though his nose wrinkled in protest, and he gently scooped me up in his arms and began carrying me over to the couch. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He said, softly, “At least let me take care of you until Charlie comes home. Please, Bella, please.”

I looked into his eyes and he hesitated slightly before pushing my hair back from my face and saying, “I can’t stand the thought of you in pain, Bella, you know that.”

My breath caught in my throat as I stared at him, absorbing what he told me. God, that really was not fair. Now, he was just doing this on purpose. I closed my eyes so that I could find my voice again, and I cleared my throat before nodding, “ ‘Kay. Thanks.”

He laid me down on the couch, taking his time in releasing me, and lightly caressed my face. I moaned softly and leaned into his caress. God, his touch felt so amazing. God…oh, God, oh, God, oh, God…

His eyes locked with mine and we had a moment of eye contact before he blinked and pulled back, “Um, I better…uh, go…I’ll go clean up--”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. Being a vampire and all, I’m sure the last thing you need is to have to clean up my vomit. I’ve got it.”

“No, Bella. It’s fine. Really. If I can drink blood to survive, I’m pretty sure I can handle a little vomit.” My heart stuttered and he smirked, “I’ll be right back.” Then, he was gone into the kitchen.