tied to a brick ; (roderick usher) (ofusher) wrote in livingfiction, @ 2010-02-14 01:12:00 |
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"No, we have to go left." "I swear it was right." "Who told you right? "One of my friends from school says it's faster." "Left is safer. I really don't feel like having to run back to my body after all -- " The signature knock of his mother broke Oliver's quest debate. Rolling his eyes, he mutter something into the headset out his mother being here and going away from keyboard before pressing the mute button. He then minimized the World of Warcraft screen before inviting his mother into the room. After all, the less questions about his online game, the better. "Oliver, honey. I was making dinner and was wondering -- " She stopped dead in her tracks and mid sentence once her eyes noticed something across the room. "Baby. Why is your window open? Frowning slightly, the he pulled the headset off and set it on the only clear spot on his desk above the wireless mouse. Oliver tried not to be annoyed by her question, but the thing with Helen Bauer was when she started asking questions, it was hard to get her to stop. All he wanted to do tonight was work on his quest, so her usual barrage of questions wasn't going to work with his Saturday night plans. Or his plans in general really. "I was feeling hot, so I opened a window. No big deal." Biting her lip, Helen stepped over toward her son and gave him a good look over. "No big deal? Oliver, you are in a t-shirt and your sleep pants in the middle of winter. You shouldn't be hot." "Mom." That was accompanied with an eye roll. "I'm allowed to get hot sometimes." "But you shouldn't be hot, Oliver. Are you feeling all right?" she asked as she reached out to put her hand on his forehead, which he initially ducked from more out of annoyance than habit. "Stop moving your head, young man." "You're over reacting," he replied through his teeth. "Am I, Oliver? You feel hot. Are you having other symptoms? Did you take your medicine today? Your pulse, did you check your pulse? Are you having any palpitations?" "Jesus Christ, Mom. Chill. I'll be fine." "You're not fine. You'll never be fine," she blurted out without really given any thought to how it may have sounded to her son. Helen watched as his expression went from annoyance to shock before falling into sadness. While it wasn't a secret that his health was less than perfect, it was rare that she put out the facts so plainly on the table, especially in such a frantic manner as moments ago. Helen tried to smile. "Honey. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it like that." "Yes you did," he answered in a small voice. "I just worry about you, baby. I don't want you to end up in the hospital again or worse -- " Oliver cringed. "Mom. Stop." Sighing, Helen ran a few fingers through his unruly brown hair before leaning down to kiss the top of his head. "I just don't want you to get sick like you did before, Oliver. I hate seeing you like that." she whispered into his hair. She then pulled away and looked down at him, offering a smile. "Come down to the kitchen and just let me take your temperature. Then I'll make stir-fry for dinner. How's that sound?" "Sounds great, Mom. I'll be down in a moment." Oliver tried to smile, but his thoughts were consumed with silent prayer that he wouldn't have to spend his Saturday evening in the emergency room. Again. She smiled as she walked out of the room. "I love you, Oliver." "I love you too, Mom." For the record, his night was emergency room-free. |