Brian's POV

"Stop moaning, or I'm going to gag you!"

I narrowed my eyes at Justin. "No compassion for the sick." I burrowed further under the blanket. It was a mistake to shift. "Shit," I spat, my hand going to my hip to scratch the area.

Justin slapped the back of my head. "Do you want traces of this shit on your skin? Stop scratching! Put more ointment. I have to go to the actual children, who are taking it like troopers unlike their drama queen father."

"It's worse at adults," I muttered, fisting the bed sheet in a vain attempt to stop scratching myself.

Justin glared. "What about Patrick? I can't even give him the fucking medicine! He's allergic to at least two ingredients. Fuck. I thought I could do it alone, but I'm calling for reinforcements."

"I promise to be good." I grabbed the cream from the nightstand, stripping off my shirt. I peered at my skin covered in blisters and fought a new wave of tears.

The first time I'd seen myself looking like this, I cried worse than when I discovered I was pregnant. I was aware some of these fuckers would leave scars. Exactly what I needed – more scars.

"It's not about you growing a brain and behaving like an adult. It's about me running between three kids! It's too much. I'm calling Mom."

"I'd rather your mother not see me like this."

Justin lifted an eyebrow, giving me a look that clearly showed him questioning my sanity.

"Do you want me to call Nurse Emmett?" He joked.

"Your mother sounds like a wonderful decision." I nodded, choosing the least worse of the two bad.

"Daddddyyy!"

"That's me," Justin hissed when I made to get out of the bed. "Do something productive and call my mom." He kissed my brow, before rushing out of the room.

I touched Jennifer's number on Justin's phone, since mine was at Patrick to keep him distracted from his unshootable pain. I felt like a failure for being unable to provide him something to keep his skin from itching, besides some menthol cream Justin was able to buy. Of course, he felt even worse, considering Munchkin inherited the allergies from him.

Jennifer answered promptly. "How are the patients, honey?"

"Itchy, honey," I said cheerfully.

"Brian! How are you feeling?"

"I had worse. But this shit exceeds everything I've been through so far. I can't scratch myself…well, I can, but not without the risk of the Killer Bunny to attack me."

She laughed heartily. "I'm sure Justin is trying to keep everyone calm and make sure you're all right."

"That's why I'm calling. He needs help. Do you happen to be able to stop by? Honestly, I have no idea when he sleeps. He's by our side day and night."

"I can visit for a short while. I have an early meeting tomorrow. Hold on." I heard her shouting outside the phone to Tucker to stay with Molly for a few hours. "Oh!"

Her exclamation didn't sound like good news. "You can't."

"I'm really sorry. Tuck is stuck in school until later. I'll take Molly to her friend's house." She sounded truly distraught that she couldn't visit.

"Don't worry. We'll be fine. I'll start behaving. I guess it's me driving Justin crazy, not the kids."

"Well, do take care of yourself. I might try to drop by later, but no promises."

After hanging up, I went in search of the others. They were in the kids' room.

Justin was on the bed with Ruby, coaxing her to take the medicine, while Patrick was sprawled on the carpet, staring at the ceiling.

"How's everyone?" I asked, leaning against the door frame, but regretted it immediately when my blisters made my shoulder hurt.

"Daddy!" Ruby rushed to me, latching at me leg. "I don't wanna take that yucky thing!"

"You have to, Peanut. You want to get better, don't you?" I squatted to her level, stroking her hair.

She pouted adorably. "Don't wanna."

I glanced at Justin and saw he was about to explode. "Hey, how about you go rest for a while? I'm feeling better. I'll keep them company."

"You should be in bed, Brian."

"Come here." I waved him closer. "I'll be right back," I promised the kids, though I wasn't sure if Patrick heard me.

I pulled Justin in the hallway and down to our room. "Sit." I pointed to the bed. "Your mom can't come to help. I'll stay with them. You need to sleep."

"But I can't leave you…"

"When's the last time you slept?" I demanded, pushing him down until he was lying on the bed.

"No clue," he mumbled.

"See? Now, be a good boy and listen to me. Trust me. I can do this."

Probably too tired to fight with me, he rolled under the blanket. "Make sure Peanut takes the medicine and put more menthol ointment on Patrick. I can only imagine how much pain he is in."

"We'll be fine. You get some rest." I kissed his forehead.

"Call Debbie if you need help," he slurred out, on his way to falling asleep.

I returned to the kids.

With a little prodding from me, Peanut took her medicine. Once she was snuggled in bed with her plush bunny, I sat next to my little guy.

"Hey, Munchkin." I kissed his cheek. "You okay?"

He whined pathetically, burrowing into my side. I hugged him tightly, rocking us.

"Did you try the other drug the doctor allowed you to take?"

"Makes me sick," he mumbled into my shoulder.

Ah, fucking shit.

"How about we play something to make you forget this?" I suggested, sitting up.

"Yes! Play!" Peanut started jumping in her bed.

Munchkin scowled at her. "I feel like shit."

"Hey now!" I scolded him. "What did we talk about repeating what I say?"

"But it's true."

"I bet you do, but don't say it…unless you want dada to kill me."

"We, the sick, must stick together, Daddy."

I laughed, stroking his hair. "Yes. True. Now, what do you want to play? Monopoly? Cards? Scrabble?"

"Scrabble."

"Good choice. I'll team up with your sister since she can't be on her own."

"Great. Then I'll win." Munchkin perked up, going after the board game.

I collected a sheet of paper and a pen, before sitting back on the soft carpet, leaning against the wall. Peanut snuggled on my lap, her bunny tightly clutched in her hands. Munchkin brought over the game, then sprawled on his stomach, feet in the air.

I'd never been a great fan of Scrabble, but having kids, I realized how educational it was. It taught Peanut the letters as we formed words. For almost five years old, she knew how to read quite a few words, with some difficulty but she did it nonetheless.

"That's my name!" She exclaimed when Patrick added the letters N-U-T to my P-E-A.

"That's right, sweetie. Now, let's find a word to conquer. Your brother is way ahead of us."

"I'm smarter than you."

"And so modest," I snorted. "Just like his dada."

Munchkin winked, swinging his feet in the air. "Come on. Find a word, already! We should time this."

"I can't think in this state," I muttered. "I bet you ten I have chicken pox on my brain too."

"Gross, Daddy!"

"Pox is a word, right?" Peanut interrupted our banter.

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

"We have O-X. It can go under that P."

Munchkin huffed. "Sure, make three lettered words with big points letters. That's cheating." He crossed his arms, forgetting his position and fell face first on the floor.

"Shit! Patrick." I lunged to him. "Are you hurt?"

"Ow." He touched his nose gingerly, then his eyes watered. Don't cry, I begged silently. "It's broken!"

"It's not broken," I said gently, checking for any damage.

"It will leave a mark! My nose! I'll be ugly!"

That was when I noticed the blister on his nose was oozing pus. "It won't." Leave it to my kid to be a drama princess.

"I'll be so ugly now! My nose!" He wailed, running to the bathroom to inspect his nose.

"Stay put," I told Ruby, following the drama princess. "Come on, Patrick. It's one blister. A few of mine exploded when I scratched them. If you leave it be and stop touching it, you're going to be fine!"

"I don't care if you get ugly, but my noooosssseee!"

Oh, for fuck's sake!

I was definitely not in the mood to deal with his whining. My head hurt, I probably had a fever, and every inch of my body was itchy.

"You're still going to be pretty, don't worry." I tried placating him. "Patrick, you will never be ugly. Now, let's go back to your room and finish—"

He promptly burst in tears, throwing himself on the cold tile.

"Stop being a sissy!" I grabbed his arm, dragging him back into his room. He kept squirming, crying louder. "If you wake Justin, you're going to be in heaps of trouble!"

"My nose! You don't care if your own child will be ugly! Everyone will mock me!"

"For Christ's sake, stop this nonsense!"

The doorbell rang, making me jump. Shit.

Patrick was sprawled at my feet, sobbing and touching his nose.

I glanced up to find Peanut where I'd left her, playing with her bunny.

"If you haven't stopped crying when I come back…" I hissed at Patrick as I walked out of the room.

He kept mumbling the words "ugly", "bad Daddy", and "mocking" making me turn around.

"Why don't you go to the corner for ten minutes? Now! Mull over your silly behavior."

He shuffled to the corner, sobbing in his hands.

I pulled the front door open when the person rang the bell again. It turned out to be Daphne.

She stared at me for a whole minute, before bursting out in laughter.

"If you're not nice, I'll leave you on the porch," I threatened.

"Your face!"

"I know. It will go away. I hope." I wasn't about to stoop to my son's level and break down in tears. I was a mature, forty-four years old adult. Sometimes.

"Brian!"

Shit. Justin was awake.

"Weren't you on bed rest?" Daphne inquired, as I ushered her inside.

"Justin was tired. I sent him to bed while I stayed with the kids a little."

"Where are you, you moron? Oh, hey, Daph." Justin stopped at the foot of the stairs, beaming at his friend. "God, I need your help." He hugged her. "You're going to be my accomplice in killing that moron and burying his body in the backyard." He pointed to me.

"I guess the lack of sleep is causing him to be delusional," I joked.

"What's wrong with you? Punishing Patrick! The poor kid is sick and inconsolable thanks to my gene of being allergic to all kinds of shit! Even the medicine!"

"You should have seen the tantrum he threw when one of his blisters broke. You told him it will leave a mark."

"Because it will. I showed you mine on my legs from when I had it as a kid."

"You broke yours. I never touched mine," Daphne praised, winking at me.

"I was in the same situation as Patrick. I get how he feels. It's shitty at best. So please, explain to me why you would punish him when he's already in pain!"

"Stop screaming," I begged. "He was driving me crazy. He thinks he's going to be ugly. He went in full drama princess mode and nothing I said made him feel better."

"So you sent him to the corner. Gah!" He threw his arms in the air. "Deal with him. He's all yours," he muttered to Daphne, before stomping back upstairs.

I threw my arm around Daphne's shoulders. "So you're stuck with me. What trouble do you think we can get in?"

"First thing you'll do is get in bed."

"Kinky." I pulled her upstairs. "Next, you'll play nurse?" I teased.

"I bet you'd love that."

"Wait." I stopped at the kids' door. "Think it's safe to check on them?" I caught her eye.

"It's your back."

I rolled my eyes, opening the door and poking my head inside. Peanut was fast asleep on her bed. Justin was with Patrick on the floor, trying to soothe him, but he was still crying.

Holy shit. Is it my fault?

I cleared my throat, making them turn to me. Justin glared daggers, and Patrick burrowed closer in Justin's arms.

"Come here, Munchkin. You know I'm not upset. But I feel just as shitty as you, and I'm irritable much easier," I whispered in apology.

He approached me slowly, then when he was a foot away, he dived into my arms. I cuddled him close, kissing his head.

"How's your nose?"

"s'okay."

"Good. I won't let that mean blister leave a mark, okay?" I kissed the tip of his nose.

"I love you, Daddy."

"Love you too."

"Good. Now you kissed and made up. How about both of you get in your respective bed?" Justin demanded, but I could see he'd mellowed considerably. "I'll put menthol cream on you," he bribed Munchkin.

"Later, Daddy." He kissed my cheek soundly, before going to his bed.

"Later, daddy," Justin mimicked, pecking my mouth. "Be good to Daph." He pushed me out the door, closing it behind me.

"Want me to put menthol cream on your back too?" She offered, laughing.

"Don't say it unless you mean it. I'm itchy all over."

"Okay, I'll do it."

We went to my and Justin's room. I stripped down to my boxers and lay down on the bed.

"Do your worst." I threw the tube of menthol cream at her.

A few more days and it would be over. I kept repeating to myself.