Breathe Me in Sweet Suffering

Open cars in chilly PA. Not a good idea. I sneezed and rolled myself further into my blanket. Water fight with Bam. Even a less good idea. I felt like shit. My throat was sore and I was shivering from fever. My muscles were all aching even to the tip of my toes. And no matter how many blankets I tucked myself in I still couldn't get warm. Mom looked worriedly down at me.

"I can drop the meeting and stay home with you Katt."

I snorted. Like my mom would make anything better. The woman was more likely to hurt her patient than to actually do some healing. The last time she had spilled scorching tea on me and served me some herbal medicine that I was convinced was what had made me throw up for hours.

"That meeting is pretty important mom. Just go. Kyle already promised he would come home early. I am not a baby."

I gave her a weak shove that made my muscles scream in protest.

"It's okay. I`ll just sleep anyway. So go."

Mom hesitated but nodded.

"Okay. Get better hon."

She kissed my forehead before I could warn her about germs and rushed out.

I looked out the window. At least I picked the perfect day to get sick on. The sky outside was turning black and I could hear the faint sound of thunder. Looked like it would be a storm. Curling further into the blanket I coughed. It sounded like a death rattle. Damn I felt like shit. I hated being sick and I hated being cold. Unfortunately for me I was always cold when I was sick. Too bad I didn't wake up before Bam went to Seattle. I knew he would have stayed if he knew I was sick. I groaned and turned my acing body in the bed, dozing in and out of sleep as the thunder increased in strength. My phone called and I reached out for it, almost falling out of bed in the process.

"Yeah?"

My voice sounded like I had been yelling for hours and the following swallow made me winch in pain.

"Katt it`s Kyle. The roads are blocked because of some fallen threes so I can't get home. The police said that they probably won't get the road cleared before tomorrow."

Oh great. Fucking fantastic. Of course it had to be a day when I was sick. I almost regretted telling mom to go. Almost.

"It's okay dad. I'll be fine."

"I`ll park my car right in front of the blocked road so I can get home as soon as they clear it."

His determinate voice made me croak out a giggle. He would too.

"Relax dad. You said it yourself. They'll get to it tomorrow so just sleep in your office. I'll be fine."

"Okay honey. Just make sure to drink and eat a little."

"Kay. Bye dad."

I glanced at the window. The sky was pitch black, the wind made the old house rattle slightly and the flashing lightning was now almost right over me. The phone rang again and I reached for it.

"How come you're not at school today?"

Ricky? Why the hell was Ricky asking me about why I was absent from school? I had hardly talked to the guy before.

"What the hell do you care?"

My voice sounded all cracked and I coughed so hard I was afraid that a lunge would fall out my mouth.

"Are you sick?"

I rolled my eyes. What tipped him off? The fact that my voice sounded like a frogs or the death rattle coming from my lungs every time I breathed?

"Gee you are smart."

He completely ignored my sarcastic remark.

"The roads are blocked. There are someone with you right?"

Okay. What's up with all these questions? I wasn't really fit for asking either. Every word out of my mouth was like swallowing a cactus and I wasn't about to go through that pain just because Ricky was nosy.

"Bye Ricky."

Damn I hated being sick. And now I was sick and alone.

Great.

I was hungry too but I really didn't feel like getting out from the bed. And it wasn't like there was any food in the house. Not when it was moms week to do all the grocery shopping.

I woke from the doorbell. Outside it was raining hard. If it were Kyle, mom or Bam they had a key and I couldn't imagine someone coming to visit in this weather. Perhaps it was a serial killer.

Okay my imagination was getting the best of me here. Maybe someone was looking for shelter. So instead of trying to hide beneath my blankets I should open the door. I dragged myself out of the bed and downstairs. I yanked the door open and stared into a chest. My head was heavy and it took forever before I managed to lift it high enough to see the persons face. A very wet Chris Cerulli. Witch I hate. What was he doing here?

Oh well. It wasn't like I could muster any kind of curiosity or the well-known I hate Chris Cerulli anger right now. All I wanted to do was to sleep this fever off.

"What?"

He looked worriedly down at me and put a nice warm hand on my cheek. Very nice and warm.

"You look like shit."

"Mmmm."

I pressed myself closer to the nice warm hand. Finally something warm.

"Okay. Now I know you are sick. Isn't there anyone with you?"

"Roadblock."

"I brought chicken soup."

If I wasn't feeling so sick I would probably have reacted a little more to Chris bringing me soup of all things. He was hardly the type that cared for sickies. Instead I leaned so far into his hand that I almost toppled over.

"You must be really sick."

Yeah you think. With ease he lifted me up and carried me into the kitchen. Normally I would have protested strongly and violently about sitting in Chris' lap, but I was so dizzy headed and cold that I didn't really give a damn. And he was so nice and warm. God I was going to loath myself when I felt better for even thinking that for a second.

"Have you eaten?"

"Nope."

"You should eat something."

" Jupp."

He chuckled probably amused by my agreeable sick self. I was never this agreeable around him.

"Allie and Kylie heard you were sick so she made this chicken soup for you."

Things kept getting weirder.

Kylie hardly knew me. Why would she make me soup? And how could she know? It had only been like fifteen minutes since Ricky had called.

Chris unwrapped the bowl with me still on his lap. It smelled delicious even though I wasn't hungry. But it was a good idea to eat something. Then at least I would have something to throw up. The spoon was shaking slightly but I managed to not spill anything as I put it into my mouth. It was weird. I was sitting on Chris' lap, eating soup like a little kid. I felt like one too. Chris was huge and I was tiny. It reminded me when I was little, sitting on dads lap when I was sick. Weird that I remembered it now. How dad used to tickle me behind my ear or put my small hands in his big rough ones. Nice peaceful memories that I seemed to have repressed after he died.

Every now and then, Chris would gently stroke some loose hair strands behind my ear. Weird fever fantasy. Usually it would be white halls and weird green creatures I dreamt about. Not a nice Chris. Altough that was just as logical as green monsters with small horns on their heads. Damn I must be sicker than I thought. Ricky made me drink a whole glass of water before carrying me up stairs and tucking me into bed. As soon as I couldn't feel his body heat I started to shiver.

"Cold?"

Chris' voice was soft and worried. I nodded. The bed creaked and suddenly I was pulled against a warm chest. I curled into it like a lazy cat and if I could I would probably have purred in pleasure. Chris buried his nose into my hair and sighed.

"I am sorry. For everything I have ever done to you. And especially your nose. I didn't mean it. Hell I don't even remember it. I wasn't myself that day."

Now I knew I was definitely dreaming. The word sorry was unknown to Chris Cerulli.

"I am sorry. So sorry."

Dream Chris buried his nose further into my hair and let out a sound that sounded like a sob. Poor dream Paul. It couldn't hurt right? It was just some weird fever dream and when I woke up I would probably have forgotten it all so it wasn't like I was sacrificing my pride or anything like that.

"I forgive you."

His head whipped up so fast I could hear it creak.

"You what? How can you forgive me like that? I did horrible things to you. I basically tortured you."

"But you're sorry and that's what matters."

Probably at least. I want quite sure as my head felt like it was filled with cotton and all I wanted was for Dream Chris to shut up so that I could sleep. I yawned and pressed myself closer to the warmth of his body. His chest rumbled under my ear.

"You are amazing. Really amazing."

I waved him off.

"Yeah yeah. Don't let it get to your head. I still don't like you."

His answer was a low chuckle.

"Even sick you are feisty."

"Genetics. Now shut up so I can sleep."

His chest rumbled slightly beneath my chin as two large arms wrapped around me until I was cocooned into that blissful warmth that seemed to sooth my fever aching muscles. Who would have known that dreaming about Chris would make me feel better? Yesterday I would have rather chosen those weird green monsters than dreaming about Chris. At least my imaginary Chris' was a whole lot of more agreeable than the real one.