troublewillfindme

He may not have any personal experience with the phenomenon, but he’s pretty sure Sally has a fever. Her eyes are glassy, her skin is clammy, and she’s much too warm to the touch.

He knows asking if she feels well isn’t the best measure; compared to what she’s lived through, there isn’t a lot that hurts.

Still, he feels like he should. “You feel alright, kiddo?”

She wrinkles her nose. “My throat doesn’t feel good.”

Okay, then. She’s sick.

–

He’s not entirely certain how Moore managed to circumvent Sally’s fear, but he suspects it has something to do with the candy and manicures.

He’s grateful, though. It means he can at least get her seen by someone with a medical degree.

“Yeah,” Moore says, setting the scope back in its holder. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got strep, but I’ve gotta test it to make sure.”

Sally loses what little color she has in her face. “Blood?”

“No blood. Cotton swab.”

“Does it hurt?”

Moore shakes her head. “It feels weird, but no, it doesn’t hurt. It’ll be quick.”

He and Eileen still have more than their fair share of disagreements. Powell hadn’t helped matters when he’d chosen “Weir kidnapped a three year old” as the means of sharing the news. A casual read through the files recovered from the lab, however, had softened her take on the situation, a more perfect justification of the abduction than he’d ever be able to manage.

Actually meeting Sally had solidified it.

“See? Quick,” Moore says, leaving the sample to culture.

“Weird,” Sally nods.

“Bodies don’t really like being touched back there. It’s a safety thing. Helps keep you from choking.”

He suspects the freely-given explanations don’t hurt on the relationship front, either. He’s learned he can reason with his daughter on most things as long as he takes the time to explain them. Moore, it seems, can get most things done if she does the same.

Why can’t they eat pizza every night? Because Jack won’t be happy.

Why does she have to wear socks? Because blisters hurt.

Why can’t she use her real last name at school? Because they need to make sure she’s safe.

He doesn’t blame Sally. It’s just a fine balance between answering her questions, and keeping her curiosity in check. There are some avenues of thought he’d prefer she not pursue.

“It’s official,” Moore says, rousing him from his thoughts. “You’ve got strep, Sal.”

–

He buys her an ice cream while they wait for the prescription, both as a treat and in the hope that it might soothe her throat a little. She has a fresh coat of paint on her nails and a braid in her hair and, all things considered, she seems content — if a little tired.

–

He takes the rest of the day off to watch movies on the couch with her. They make it through Wreck-It Ralph before lunch, and he introduces her to A New Hope in the time before Jack shows up. The Motrin keeps the fever down and seems to help keep her comfortable. She stays wrapped in her blanket, tucked under his arm. Jane curls up next to them, head settled on Sally’s hip.

Jack arrives with tomato soup and all the makings of good grilled cheeses, prepared by someone who doesn’t burn every dish he so much as looks at.

They eat on the couch, and he stays with them to watch Empire Strikes Back. Sally retracts her previous Jedi aspirations, informing the both that she does not want to go anywhere near a swamp.

“Kiddo,” Jack says gently. “Let me tell you: I don’t think your dad’s letting you go anywhere in that blanket.”