Medication For Sleep Deprivation » Might Be Instamatic Flu

Title: Might Be Instamatic Flu
Characters: Molly Walker, Matt Parkman, Angela Petrelli
Summary: Team Walkman just might have a chance. Rating: G. 3,500 words.
Warnings: This could be dangerous to your teeth.
Notes: I’m very much in that ‘cover someone up with a blankie and make them feel better’ place. Also, Molly is adorable and awesome. This story is for celli and fox1013 to share custody of, because they too are awesome. (Mostly, yesterday celli said “Write this!” over pancakes, and I was distracted by the pancakes. As you do.)

Thanks to fox1013 for the beta help!

“Matt, we’re going to be late,” Molly said, nudging at Matt’s arm.

Matt pawed away her tiny hand and buried his nose into his pillow.

“I need to go to school,” she reminded him and shook harder.

“S’okay,” Matt mumbled. “One more minute.”

“You said that five minutes ago, and you need to get up,” Molly sighed and staring a little closer, frowned. She pressed her hand to his forehead. “You’re really warm,” she said.

“Huh?” Matt asked, reaching up for his own forehead. “I’m fine, I’m totally.” He started to get up and fell on the floor.

“Just stay there,” Molly sighed, and she took off her backpack. “I’m going to go get the thermometer.”

“When she came back, he was asleep again so she pulled his head up a little on her lap and slid it under his tongue.

“101.5,” she said. He didn’t answer, so she shook his shoulder again. “Matt, you’re sick!” She showed him the digital reading. “Should I call someone?”

“I—oh, you have to go to school,” he muttered, lifting his head up for a minute.

“No, I’m going to stay with you today,” Molly frowned. “You guys need to make more friends here, because I can’t think of anybody to call.”

“Mfftyay,” Matt slurred from the floor.

“Are you dying?” Molly demanded.

“No, just—cold,” Matt muttered, a little dazed.

“Okay. You better not be dying,” Molly said. “Can you get back up?”

“Sure,” Matt said, and crawled his way back onto the bed.

“I’m making an executive decision,” Molly announced as she pulled the blanket up to his chin.

“Yeah?” Matt coughed.

“I’m calling in to school and staying with you.”

“Okay,” Matt agreed sleepily. “No, wait. Not okay. I—“ He blinked dazedly into the sunlight filtering through the curtains.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Mohinder,” Molly promised. “Besides, we’re not doing anything important today, and I’m way ahead in all my workbooks.”

She stared at him for a moment, waiting to see if there’d be any more objections, but he just started snoring a little bit. Shrugging, Molly went to the kitchen and found the number to her school’s attendance office.

Actually, she wasn’t even sure what to say. She was calling in because Matt was sick, not her, and adults usually were the ones who did this stuff. She frowned and called Micah instead; it was an hour earlier in New Orleans and he would know what to do.

“Molly?” Micah said breathlessly, having run to the phone after his grandmother had called for him.

“Micah, I need to call in sick to school, ‘cause Matt’s sick and he needs me to stay with him,” Molly said, bringing the phone in to watch Matt, who was still sleeping.

“Um, what do you want me to do?” Micah asked.

“Can you make it look like Mohinder called in sick for me? So I don’t get into trouble for missing a day?”

“I’m not supposed to do that kind of stuff anymore,” Micah whispered, and Molly knew his grandma was listening.

“I know, and I’m sorry. But I don’t know who else to call and I don’t want to leave Matt all alone and I can’t go to school by myself and I can’t go out with a stranger,” Molly said. “And please?”

“Fine, fine, just—give me ten minutes, and I want you to send me a VCR,” Micah whispered.

“A VCR?” Molly asked.

“Yeah, I’m bored out of my mind here. It has a couple components I want.”

“Does it have to be working?” Molly asked doubtfully. Mohinder had a closet full of weird stuff, and there probably was something in there.

“Nah, I can make it work.”

“Okay then, deal.”

“Good. Make him chicken soup. My mom used to make that stuff. Put crackers in it.”

“What kind of crackers?” Molly asked, thinking of what was in the cupboard.

“I dunno. Saltines?”

“Okay. I can do that.”

“Bye, Cerebro,” Micah said, because they’d decided months ago they needed cool Hero names.

“Thanks, Wolverine,” and Micah had decided he liked Wolverine best even though his powers were totally, totally different and if she’d known they could do that, she would have been Rogue. But she wasn’t still mad or anything. She hung up the phone and looked at Matt again.

“Chicken soup. I think we have that,” she muttered, rifling through the kitchen cupboards.

It turned out that a box of Uncle Ben’s chicken rice was the closest thing they had, so Molly turned it on its side for the microwave instructions and started running hot water. She carefully measured out two cups and a tablespoon of butter, covered it and threw it in the microwave. She didn’t want to risk it being all hot and goopy so she went with the medium setting.

Molly went to the bathroom and closed the toilet seat so she could stand on it and peer into the medicine cabinet. “Hmm.” She eyed the symptoms on the Sudafed, but they didn’t really match up that well. The Triaminic was hers from her cold last month, and probably wouldn’t do Matt any good. The green stuff was Mohinder’s from India and it smelled weird and Molly didn’t want to touch it. The Robitussin was the closest match and it expired in a month so it was probably good to use it up.

The microwave was beeping so she jumped off the toilet, and ran to the kitchen again. She was pulling out the dish when the phone started ringing, but it was hot and Molly didn’t want to risk dropping it, so she picked up a fork and stirred it instead as she waited for the machine to pick it up.

“Cerebro, Mission Accomplished,” came Micah’s voice and then a dial tone. She could hear the capital letters in his voice and smiled.

They didn’t have any trays so Molly got the biggest plate she could find and put a piece of wheat bread in the toaster. Her mom used to make her toast when she got sick, she remembered, and she’d draw little hearts on it with grape jelly. Matt didn’t seem like the kind of person who liked grape hearts though, and maybe he didn’t even like jelly when he was sick. When it popped out, she put on a few drops of honey in the shape of a smiley face because everybody liked smiley faces. She set it on the plate with a big heaping portion of rice and a can of Sprite, because they didn’t have 7-Up either. She poured up to the second line on the mini plastic cup for the Robitussin and set it next to the rice.

Molly entered the bedroom again with the big plate and set it down on the nightstand. “Matt, I made you breakfast. Kind of,” she told him. “And you should eat it all so you feel better.”

He sort of snuffled into his pillow, so Molly brought out the big guns. “Okay, I guess I can call Mohinder and he can tell you to eat it,” she said loudly.

“Oh, I—yeah, what’d you make?” He blinked up at her, scrubbing at his face with his hands. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, a little impatient for him to look at his meal. “Is that all okay?” she asked nervously.

“Molly, that looks great,” he smiled and pulled himself up a little to slouch against the head frame.

“Oh, I forgot the fork!” Molly said and ran off to the kitchen. He reached for the Sprite and opened it, wincing.

“I got you a plastic one so we can just throw it out and get rid of your germs,” she said, handing it over.

“Thanks,” he coughed. “But I’m starting to see we should’ve had a plan for if one of us got sick,” he groaned, gingerly poking at the rice.

“Well, if one of us gets sick, the other one has to take care of them,” Molly pointed out sensibly.

“I mean,” Matt continued in between bites, “that you’re missing school and that’s not right.”

“I don’t even need to go,” Molly muttered. “There won’t be any tests till next week.” She held up a hand to stop him from saying how important school was, because that was boring and a lie besides. “I know, and I want to be here with you, so you are just going to eat your rice and drink your medicine,” she said firmly.

Matt narrowed his eyes at her, but nodded a little sleepily at least. “Good. Want me to read to you?” she asked. “Mohinder just got me ‘Where the Sidewalk Ends’, you know.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Matt said, and she went to get it.

When she returned, he’d taken a bite of the toast and was kind of staring at it, but she frowned and he took another quick bite.

“Sorry, just can’t do it,” he sighed, downing his Robitussin cup at least. “Oh gag.” He grabbed roughly for the Sprite.

“Sorry, my Triaminic was good at least,” she said, crawling onto the bed and propping open the book on her lap. “There’s a poem in here called Sick,” she said, running her finger down the index page. “Let’s do that one.”

“’kay,” Matt agreed, and smushed his face back into the pillow. “You got stuff to keep you occupied for the day?”

“Duh,” Molly said, but not meanly. “Mohinder gave me that whole box of books and I’ve only read them all once. “

“’kay,” Matt said. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking at her.

“We’re supposed to take care of each other,” Molly shrugged. “That’s what people do.” She had found the page in the book and started reading, but not in her Speech voice, in the voice Mohinder and her mom and used to use when they read to her. She giggled through the poem and by the time it was finished, Matt was sleeping again.

She kissed him on the forehead and shut the curtains a little tighter so the light wouldn’t bother him. She pulled the chair in the corner a little closer and got absorbed in the book. Mohinder picked the *best * books, even though she knew he was probably picking out stuff with monsters in it so she’d talk about them.

Molly sighed and kept reading.

***

Around noon, Molly decided that Matt could probably use something to cool him down, so she went into the freezer and got out the ice pack Matt used to use. She wrapped a washcloth around it so it wouldn’t be too cold and tucked it in around Matt’s hands.

***

Another plastic cup of Robitussin and a glass of ice water later, Molly fished out the thermometer again. “If it’s not under 101, we’re calling Mohinder,” she announced. But it was 100.5, which was good, and Molly didn’t want Mohinder worrying that he couldn’t leave them alone, so she sat back down with a new book ‘cause frankly, there were a few too many monsters in the poem one.

***

It was hard to figure out what to make for lunch when she wasn’t supposed to use the really sharp knives or anything. Molly settled on a banana sandwich with toast and poked Matt really, really hard until he finally got up and ate it.

***

Molly remembered that when she was sick, she had to blow her nose a lot. So she brought a box of Kleenex back to Matt while he was drinking his third plastic cup of medicine and instructed him to blow his nose.

“But I don’t have to,” Matt protested, holding the tissue like it was going to explode.

“Just do it!” Molly sighed. “I’ll have to send Micah a t.v. if he helps us tomorrow, you know.”

Matt just shook his head confusedly and blew a little bit into the tissue.

“That’s good,” Molly said, and pressed him back down into his pillow. “Did you want anything?”

“Another Sprite would be nice,” he murmured.

“Sure!” Molly went off to the kitchen, but by the time she returned, he was passed out again. The ice pack was already warm, so she took it and wrapped his arms around the can instead.

***

Around two, Molly was getting pretty bored, so she turned on the television and saw a quick flash of Mr. Petrelli’s face as he left a building. “Of course!” Molly said, and jumped up from the couch. She looked through Mohinder’s address book and found A. Petrelli scribbled on a paper somewhere in the ‘B’ section, totally misfiled. Molly remembered Mohinder whispering to Matt once how somebody Petrelli had helped them get her instead of fost—and then they’d stopped talking ‘cause Matt had made cutthroat motions that Molly was listening. Molly suspected he just made cutthroat noises in Mohinder’s head now, ‘cause he was way more subtle these days.

But Molly had known what foster care was, and if a Petrelli had helped them out with that, then they probably wouldn’t mind helping out with this, right?

“Angela Petrelli,” answered a crisp voice.

“Hello Mrs. Petrelli,” Molly said politely. “This is Molly Walker. I was wondering if you were really busy, or if I could ask you for a favor?”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “I’m not busy just now, Miss Walker. What did you need?”

“See, I’m staying with Mohinder Suresh – you know him, right?”

“Yes, I do.”

“See, Mr. Parkman’s living here too, and I think he has a cold. Or the flu,” Molly amended. “And I wanted to check in with someone and make sure there wasn’t something else I’m supposed to do.”

“I…see. Well. What have you done exactly?”

Molly listed off everything since seven a.m. that morning.

“Hmm. It sounds like you’ve done well enough, Miss Walker. I’d just give him another dose of the cold medicine in another hour or so, and take his temperature again. If he’s not feeling better by later this evening, give me another call and I will send someone over. Unless you’d like some company now?”

“No, no,” Molly said hurriedly. Mohinder hadn’t even had to warn her about strangers. “I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t something I was supposed to do. But thank you,” she tacked on quickly.

“Of course. I’m available if you need something further.” The phone clicked off and Molly realized Mrs. Petrelli had hung up. She set the phone on the table and got her lunch pack out of the fridge again; she had been so busy helping out Matt that she’d forgotten to eat her own sandwich.

***

Around five, Matt came into the kitchen.

“Are you going to fall over?” Molly demanded.

Matt was clutching the wall kind of hard. “Nah, I’m totally fine. You’ve been an awesome doctor today.”

Molly grinned. “Would you like anything, Mr. Parkman?” she said solicitously, rising from the puzzle pile on the floor.

“I’ve got a couple aspirin somewhere up on the top shelves, but they’re too high for you. I’m going to work my way up to them in a few,” he said, breathing hard and sitting down heavily on the couch. “Hey look, Molly, I moved across the whole room!”

“Good job!” She grinned. “I’m going to go get one of my blankets, ‘cause yours kinda smell.” She threw the Dora the Explorer sleeping bag blanket over him and made sure she got it at least down to his legs.

There was a knock at the door. Matt narrowed his eyes at it and made to move at his blanket feebly.

“Just stop,” Molly said, disgusted. “Who is it?” she called at the door.

“It is Angela Petrelli. May I come in?”

Molly ignored Matt (who was making choking noises) and unlocked the door.

“Hello, Mrs. Petrelli. I didn’t know you were coming over,” she said, opening the door in a wide arc. Mrs. Petrelli stepped in and looked around the apartment, taking in Matt shifting uncomfortably on the couch.

“Mrs. Petrelli,” he coughed. “What can we do for you?”

“Miss Walker and I spoke earlier and she was concerned that you were ill. I wished to come by and check on the situation here,” she said crisply.

“Hey, can you get some aspirin on the top cupboard shelf? I can’t get to them,” Molly said.

“Molly, Mrs. Petrelli has other things to do than –” Matt broke off, shivering.

“No, that’s quite fine. Where are they?” she asked, her heels echoing on the floor. Matt pointed a little loopily behind him and Mrs. Petrelli pulled out a small lockbox.

“Effective security,” she murmured, at discovering it wasn’t even locked.

Matt turned even redder and held out his hand. “Thank you, I appreciate it,” he said, and fished out a small bottle of pills. “Molly, Sprite run?”

“Sure,” she said. “Oh, would you like anything?” she asked Mrs. Petrelli.

Mrs. Petrelli smiled for the first time, but it was kind of like she wasn’t sure how to, and it went away fast. “No, thank you. I’m going to be leaving if there’s nothing else?”

Molly shook her head. “I think we’re doing okay now. He doesn’t look like he’s dying anymore.” She eyed Matt.

“Indeed,” Mrs. Petrelli said, smoothing her coat. “Well, if that should change, you may call again anytime you wish.”

Matt stared at her a little bit, and Molly just smiled. “Thank you!” she said as she shut the door behind Mrs. Petrelli.

“That was nice of her, coming to check on you,” Molly said, handing over the soda.

Matt was still staring at the door.

“She totally scares you, doesn’t she,” Molly giggled.

“I’m a cop, nothing scares me,” Matt sighed, downing a couple of the pills.

“She does, but she came to check on you, so that must mean she likes you, right?”

“Or she planted a bug,” Matt said darkly.

“Huh?”

“Never mind,” he sighed.

“I’m getting the thermometer,” Molly announced.

“Not again,” Matt groaned.

“I wasn’t this whiny when I was sick,” Molly told him and put it in.

“Did you call Mohinder?” Matt said around the thermometer.

“Stop talking, and no,” she promised. “I would have if you would have looked like you were dying for longer than an hour.”

“Okay,” Matt said, pulling out the thermometer. “99! Woot.” He gave her a high-five.

“Plus, we’re grown ups, almost. We can handle this stuff. Mohinder has enough to worry about, right?” she asked, wanting to be sure that he hadn’t really wanted her to call Mohinder.

“I trust your judgment,” Matt said finally. “And I’d hug you, but I think I’m germy.”

“You are totally germy. If you clutch at the wall, can you take a shower?”

“I think I can manage that one, yeah.”

“Okay, while you’re in there, I’m going to pile up all the germy stuff. You need to get the new blankets out of the closet. They’re way in the back.”

Molly supervised as Matt made a big pile of fresh blankets and linens on the floor. “That good?” he asked.

“I think so. Do you want Cheerios or Special K for dinner?” she asked.

“Don’t we have any Captain Crunch left?” he asked, almost closing the door in the bathroom.

“We do, but you need something healthy. Special K or Cheerios,” she prompted again.

“Cheerios is fine,” he said, shutting the door. Molly grinned and went to get all the sweaty blankets off Matt’s bed. She didn’t want to let them have room to spread germs, so she put them all in a garbage bag and tied it really tight.

She was just finishing with the top blanket when Matt came out of his shower and took a look at the room.

“Do you want a pony?” he asked seriously.

“I need a broken VCR,” she told him. “But I wouldn’t turn down a pony.”

“I will keep that in mind,” he said, sliding back into the bed. She went and got two bowls of Cheerios and a disc of Sleeping Beauty – Mohinder *really* had to get off this whole making her talk about monsters thing.

“I’m serious about the broken VCR though, you know,” she told him, propping up a pillow.

“I know,” he said, between mouthfuls. “You know, Mohinder has that closet with a bunch of stuff in it. We’ll look through it tomorrow.”

“Awesome,” Molly said, “And there’s an incriminating message on the machine. Make sure we get rid of it.”

“Right, right. The pink and blue and green fairies are good ones, right?”

Molly launched into an explanation of the whole story and Matt yawned and fell asleep again.

When she finally stopped to think about it, Molly realized she’d been way more productive (and awesome) at home than she ever could have been at school anyway, so it must mean she’d made an excellent executive decision.

Well, awesome except for the part about concealing evidence. She ran over to the answering machine and pushed ‘delete’.

October 15 2007 Heroes. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.