If your heart stops beating

~*Frank’s Point of view*~

God, is it February already? Time is flying by... So much to do in so little time...
“Hey Frank! C’mere!”
I walked into our bedroom. Jamia and Alec were sitting on the bed, Jamia grinning amusedly while Alec looked thoroughly delighted.
“Look at this!”
I crossed the room and sat down beside him.
“See, when I put my hand here-” he demonstrated “-she kicks!”
“Really?”
“Yeah! See, put your hand there...”
He grabbed my hand and put it on Jamia. Then he placed his own beside it. After a moment I felt a small movement, and then what was unmistakeably a kick.
“Cool eh?”
I nodded. Jamia checked her watch and sat up.
“I should make dinner.”
“Okay. Alec, don’t you have homework?”
He shrugged.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Yes or no, do you have homework?”
“Yeah...”
“What? What’s the problem? Do you not want to do it? Do you not understand it?”
He shrugged again. I stood up.
“Well, let’s see it.”
He got his book and opened it to a page of neatly copied exercises.
“Maths? Maths is easy. Let’s see what you got.”
I read through the page.
“Simplifications. That’s easy. 4x+x.”
I proceeded to explain it to him. After about a minute I gave up.
“There’s something else on your mind.”
He shrugged.
“I have a pounding headache. I feel like I’m going to be sick. Whenever I look at a page the words jump around and I can’t focus.”
I put my hand to his forehead.
“Shit Alec, you’ve got a burning temperature.”
He shrugged again.
“Neck sore? Any rashes?”
He shook his head.
“Well, why don’t you try to sleep for a while? I’ll come see if you’re feeling better by dinner.”
He nodded and got up, dragging his feet down the hallway and crawling into bed. I sighed and walked into the kitchen, where Jamia was busy looking through the cupboards.
“What’s up?”
“Alec’s sick.”
“Aw, poor boy. Symptoms?”
I told her. Then I frowned, thinking.
“Alec’s hand didn’t feel hot. When he grabbed my hand to put it on you, his hand was actually quite cold.”
She looked back at me over her shoulder.
“That’s normal. When the body is fighting something, it shuts down blood flow to the extremities in order to keep the vital organs going. In other words, your hands and feet go cold so you can stay alive.”
I nodded.
“Right.”
“Give him some Paracetamol and he’ll be fine. It sounds like he’s just got a very bad migraine.”
“Okay.”
I grabbed the packet of pills she handed me and filled a glass of water before going to Alec’s room.
“Alec?”
He was lying face down on his bed, lights off and curtains closed.
“Alec?”
He whimpered.
“Here, sit up. You need to take one of these.”
After a moment he rolled over. It seemed to take a great effort.
I helped him sit up and passed him the glass and one of the pills. He swallowed it and gently laid back down.
“That should also help you sleep. I’ll come back in a little while and see how you’re doing. We’ll save you some dinner in case you’re hungry later.”
He made a small noise I supposed was meant to convey agreement. I left the room, closing the door gently behind me.

**Author's Note: Pleeeease comment. Pleeeeease?**