Sore Throat

A BOAP Chibi Tail

By Talon

Bulma Briefs was going through her “needs attention” pile at the breakfast table when her two teenaged sons Trunks and Goten wandered down the stairs into the kitchen. Trunks was rubbing his lavender haired head ruefully, and Goten’s tail was bushed out and he was gingerly massaging his backside. She looked up from her pile and automatically counted…someone was missing.

“Where is Sage?”

Trunks grimaced. “Still in bed, Kassan.”

Goten chimed in. “Yeah, he kicked us out…literally. We were just tussling around, when all of a sudden his foot connected and shoved us onto the floor.”

Bulma frowned. “What did he say?”

“He didn’t say anything,” replied Trunks grumpily. “He just gave us that glare of death, and pulled the covers back over his head.”

The two boys sat down at the table and began on their sizable breakfast, already spatting over who got what of Sage’s uneaten breakfast. As Trunks said, “If he can’t drag his ass down here and eat, then it’s his tough luck.”

Bulma was concerned. For any of her children to miss breakfast…well it was unusual to say the least. She sighed as she realized she would have to go upstairs and see what was wrong with Sage herself; his fathers had left early that morning to spar in relative peace and wouldn’t be back until the afternoon.

“You two hurry up and eat, don’t miss the bus, ne?” she said as she got up and braced herself for the coming confrontation with her youngest. They both stopped chewing and looked at her in amazement.

“You’re going up there, Bulma-san?” asked Goten in amazement.

“Where’s Papa?” asked Trunks. “Don’t you think it would be better for him or Daddy to take care of this?”

Bulma grimaced. “Yes, it would be, but they won’t be back until afternoon. Somebody has to see what’s the matter with Sage, and it looks like I’m elected.”

The teens glanced at each other, then at the blue-haired woman. “Good luck,” they chorused.

Bulma smiled weakly and trudged upstairs, wondering herself if she should just bite it and call Vegeta and Goku’s cell phone. No, she scolded herself; Sage is probably just pissed off about something, no need to bother his fathers. She stopped outside the chibis' shared sleep room, then knocked.

Nothing.

She tried again, harder, but still no response from within.

Knowing she was taking her life into her hands, she slowly pushed the door open. Light spilled into the room from the open balcony doors, and her gaze was immediately drawn to the pile of blankets in the middle of the large, low bed the boys shared. A small tuft of black hair was visible, poking out of the cocoon of comforters. She approached the bed warily, but nothing, not even curses were thrown her way. Gingerly she sat on the edge of the bed and softly spoke to her youngest.

“Sage? Sage honey, it's Mama…you need to get up.”

No response. She reached over and tugged the top few blankets down, revealing her son’s face. Any thought of Sage just being pissy this morning as he sometimes was wont to be was dissipated. His face was flushed, his midnight eyes fever bright as he gave her what was affectionately known in the household as the “ Vegeta death glare.”

“What’s the matter, Sage?” she asked softly. “You not feeling well, chibi?” The death glare intensified as she was reminded her now ten-year-old son hated being called “chibi.” She chuckled quietly. “Sorry, Sage, I forgot. But what’s the matter?” She pressed a cool hand to his forehead, quickly jerking it away as the heat pouring off her son nearly threatened to burn her skin. “I’m going to go and get the thermometer,” she said, beginning to rise. A firm hand around her wrist halted her movements. She turned back and looked at Sage again. He shook his head. She had no trouble reading his meaning, but paused.

“Sage, say something,” she said.

A strange look crossed over her son’s face as he apparently thought over her request. Then shrugging, he opened his mouth and spoke.

“No thermometer, Kassan,” he said, then flinched. Bulma joined his flinch. His voice was a harsh rasp, it SOUNDED painful, and from the look on his face, it had been.

“You have a sore throat?” she asked tenderly.

Sage nodded, frowning and leaning back on his pillows.

Bulma looked him over. “I bet you feel rotten all over, don’t you, little prince. I bet your head aches, and you’re hot and tired and just plain feeling yucky, ne?”

Sage scowled, then nodded again.

“Well, that’s understandable, but I still need to find out what your temperature is, son,” and so saying, she rose again to find the ear thermometer. She was halfway to the boys’ bathroom, when a croak from the bed stopped her again.

“No, Kassan, please….”

She stopped and turned around, confused. “Why not, Sage? You’ve had your temperature taken lots of times before, it doesn’t hurt…”

Sage scowled then spoke hesitantly. “My ears hurt, Kassan…they hurt bad.” He glared at her, furious for having to admit to hurting. Bulma stifled a giggle. Goten got pouty when he was sick, Trunks got whiny, but Sage usually got just plain mean. He was like a wounded tiger that way. She thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers.

“You stay in bed, I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ve got to tell your brothers you aren’t going to school today, and I’ll come back and take your temperature in a little bit.”

Sage growled, then whimpered, his hands going to his throat. Bulma winced sympathetically. “You may want to put off the growling for later, baby,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to stick anything in your ears for the time being. Do you want me to bring you up anything?” she asked. Sage frowned, thinking. “I bet you’re thirsty, ne?” Sage nodded. “I’ll bring you something nice to drink, and something for your aches.” She turned and left the room.

Sage groaned and burrowed under the covers again. Sick. He HATED being sick. Now Kassan would fuss over him, and she’d get Grandma in on it, and to top it all off he really felt lousy. And he hurt. His throat hurt clear up to his ears. If he hadn’t had a good deal of pain tolerance, he would have been in tears. But he still had his pride, and the knowledge that if he cried his ears and throat would hurt worse. And he didn’t want Kassan. He wanted Tou’tan. So immersed he was in his misery he didn’t notice his automatic regression to his pet name for his father. Tou’tan wouldn’t fuss over him; he’d just make him feel better. The worst part was he knew Kassan would call Tou’tan if he asked her to. He knew Tou’tan and Baka were off sparring somewhere this morning…it wouldn’t take much to call them on the cell phone they carried with them…but Sage was loathe to do it. He wasn’t dying, (though privately he thought dying might be less painful) and he refused to appear weak before his father.

A noise outside the door, and Trunks and Goten entered the room, quietly for a change. Kassan must have told them I’m sick, thought Sage spitefully. He feigned sleep, and listened to the semi-quiet noises of his older brother and bond-brother getting ready for school. That was a plus anyway…not having to go to school. Sage hated school for various reasons, and never missed an opportunity to escape attending.

The bed shifted slightly, and Sage was aware of Goten’s scent beside him.

“I know you’re not asleep, Sage,” said Goten quietly. He brushed a tender hand over Sage’s forehead, pushing back spiky bangs. “I know you feel awful…we should have realized when you kicked us out of the bed this morning, but I guess we were too busy being mad at you to pay attention to the blood-bond. I’m sorry, chibi.”

Sage cautiously peeped his head out from under the blankets, and met Goten’s inky black eyes. They were full of genuine concern. Sage shrugged, and flashed a feeling of general “okayness” through the bond at his brother. Goten grinned. “Look…I brought you something…” he held up a piece of material and Sage’s eyes lit up as Goten handed him one of his father’s shirts. He clutched it to him, burying his nose in it as Goten smiled affectionately at the sight. “I figured you’d need one. Kassan says your throat and ears hurt, anything else?”

Sage nodded. He didn’t mind telling his brothers…they wouldn’t rat him out. And if they did, it wouldn’t be like he himself was complaining…

“What hurts, Sage?” Trunks voice joined Goten’s. Sage shrugged and pointed to his head, then his chest, breathing exaggeratedly to show how it hurt him to breathe. Trunks put a hand to Sage’s cheek. “Damn, chibi, you’re burning up,” he exclaimed. “Did Mama take your temp?”

Sage shook his head and pointed to his ears.

“Ah…I get it. You wouldn’t let her. Damn, your ears must REALLY be hurting. Ten bucks says Kassan has you at the doctors before the end of the day.

Sage’s eyes went wide.

Trunks put up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Hey, if Papa and Goku-san come home before that happens, you know you won’t have to go…do you want us to call them?”

Sage thought for a minute, then gestured towards the desk. Goten handed him a notebook and a pencil and Sage scribbled a note to them.

Do me a favor and call them when you get to school. I don’t want Kassan to know, and I don’t want her to call them. She’ll just blow it all out of proportion. Don’t tell them I asked you to call?

Trunks read the note and grinned. He ruffled his brother’s upswept hair and said soothingly, “Don’t worry, brat…we won’t tell. And we won’t bring your homework, ne?”

Sage smiled weakly and lay back down, suddenly tired again. A soft, sweetly scented fur-covered tail caressed his face. “You rest, chibi…get better. It’s just too quiet around here with you laid up. And try to take Kassan and Obassan’s fussing with a little bit of good humor?”

Sage scowled at his bond-brother who laughed and headed for the door. “Well, maybe that’s asking just a little too much. We’ll see you when we get home. I hear Bulma-san on her way upstairs.”

Sure enough, a shrill voice cut through the air, reminding the two older boys they had a bus to catch. Sage listened to the pounding footfalls echoing through the house, the door slamming, and it was quiet again. He stuffed Tou’tan’s shirt under the blankets to hide it from Kassan’s view and sighed. For a little bit there, he had almost forgotten how rotten he felt. He remembered in a hurry as Kassan came in the door with a tray.

There was a clear plastic pitcher of iced apple juice on the tray, and Sage reached for it, but Bulma set it down out of his reach. He scowled fiercely, but she was not intimidated.

“Open your mouth, Sage,” she instructed.

He folded his arms and “death-glared” her.

“Look princeling, you don’t want me to stick anything into your aching ears, ne? Then we’re going to have to do this the old fashioned way.” She held up a digital oral thermometer and Sage narrowed his eyes, looking again at the juice. Bulma followed his gaze and grinned. “Let me take your temperature, Sage, and after I know what it is, THEN you can have some juice, and something to help your aches and fever.” She made to stick the device in his mouth, but he turned his head away sharply. She groaned. “Sage,” she began exasperatedly.

His head still averted, he held out a hand. Bulma surrendered the thermometer, and Sage put it under his tongue and sat, his arms still crossed, his glare mutinous, but cooperating at least for the time being.

Bulma sat beside him and waited as well, asking him yes and no questions, do you want breakfast, (no) do you want me to call your fathers, (no) do you want your juice when this is through (yes), when the little device finally rewarded then with a small beep.

Sage’s normal temperature usually hovered around 105…but today…”One hundred eight point eight,” pronounced his mother. Sage groaned silently and sank back against his pillows. Bulma made a small noise of concern in her throat and as promised handed Sage a glass of iced apple juice. She smiled as he downed the entire contents in one breath, sighing in undisguised relief as the cold juice relieved his throat and eased his thirst. He handed the glass back to her, still reclining in the pile of pillows as Bulma retrieved the medication she had collected to lower his fever and reduce his aches and refilled his glass with more juice.

“Sit back up, little prince,” said Bulma. “I’ve got some more apple juice for you and some pills for you to take, ne?”

Sage sat up and accepted the juice, but looked askance at the pills. Even the cold, soothing juice hurt his throat going down; he didn’t know if he could manage the pills. He tried to convey this to his mother, but she seemed to think he was just being difficult.

“Sage, just take the damn pills…they’ll make you more comfortable.”

Sage was nearly in tears, when he finally rasped out, “I don’t think I CAN take them, Kassan, hurts too much…” A few tears did make it past his guard then…and Bulma’s hand flew to her mouth.

“I’m sorry, Sage, I didn’t think.” She thought for a moment, then sighed and took the glass he was holding back. “Well, I didn’t want to give you this so early in the day, but you need to sleep anyway. She held up a bottle of Nyquil, and Sage grimaced. “Yes, I know you hate the taste, but honestly, Sage, it’s all we have in the house at the moment. And it WILL help.”

She measured out a demi-Saiyjin sized dosage, and handed it to her son who made a face, but obediently downed the entire dose in one go and lay back against the pillows. GAH, he thought…what a vile flavor. The artificial cherry flavoring did nothing to mask the horrible aftertaste of the medicine. Kassan handed him back the second glass of juice, and he drank it, swishing it around in his mouth somewhat in a vain attempt to wash away the taste. It helped…but he could still taste it. Yuck.

Bulma ran her fingers through her son’s sleep-tousled mane and said quietly, “I’ll leave you alone now, ne? That stuff should make you want to sleep for a good long while. I’ll come and check on you later.”

Sage nodded, his eyelids already drowsing as his mother left the room, leaving the door open. He reached under the covers and brought out his father’s shirt, breathing in the heady, comforting scent of Vegeta, mingled with the sparkling, reassuring scent of his bond-father. Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, he spread the material over his pillow, laid his fevered cheek down on it, grasped a handful of the shirt and assumed his favored comfort position. If Goten and Trunks knew he still occasionally comforted himself via thumb sucking, they never said anything about it, and Sage breathed a little easier as he slipped into slumber, blue-black tail wrapped around his right hand also holding a fistful of sweat-stained material, thumb tucked securely into his mouth, his face peaceful for the moment as he slept.

He woke slowly, fighting his way through several layers of consciousness, feeling almost as though he were moving through cold syrup…he could feel a vibration, hear it, but he had no clue what it was. He opened sleep-shrouded eyes carefully, blinking against the bright sunlight in the room. He was surrounded by a familiar and comforting scent, and that noise…he could feel it in his very bones…purr…he suddenly realized it was a purr, and the scent was his bond-father who was sitting beside him in the bed, holding him and purring soothingly at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Baka shushed him gently.

“No, don’t speak, chukra, it’s ok. Trunks told us you were sick and your throat hurt.”

Sage nodded and leaned his head against his Baka’s thigh. He raised his eyes towards his bond-father, who correctly guessed what was foremost in his son’s mind.

“Your Tou’tan is downstairs getting you something to eat. I know you’re not much hungry, chibi,” he said, noting the distressed look crossing Sage’s face. “And I’m sure swallowing hurts your throat, but you know your father would realize that, ne?” He gently stroked his bond-son’s upswept mane and resumed his purring. “You need to eat though. Your mother is already clamoring to take you to the doctors.” He felt Sage stiffen underneath his hand and projected reassurance to the child. “She and your father had a huge row about it. Don’t worry…you know if we do take you to the doctors there will be good reason. More than just a little sore throat and hike in your temperature.” He smiled softly as Sage relaxed beneath his gently stroking hand, privately worrying, knowing Sage’s illness was more than a sore throat and fever. He knew Vegeta was concerned about Sage’s ears, having used the opportunity presented by Sage’s heavy sleep to examine them, and finding both of them quite nastily infected.

He was startled as Sage grabbed his throat, yelped and clutched at his throat again.

“What is it, chibi? What happened?” Sage’s eyes were filled with tears, and Goku picked him up, wrapping his tail around him firmly as he cuddled his bond-son. He felt warm breath on his chest as Sage whispered, “hurts to purr…”

Goku flinched. Of course. Purring would be an automatic response to Goku’s own purr. Which would cause pain. He sighed and tried to wrap Sage in a blanket of his love and protection as the chibi seemed to melt into his embrace. He could feel the fever, lowered somewhat from the medication Bulma had given Sage a little while ago, but still too high, seeping through his tee-shirt. He reached through the bond, and winced as he felt his bond-son’s pain from his ears, his head, his throat, his very breathing searing in his chest.

It figured, thought Goku. The children didn’t often get sick, but when they did it was usually bad. It took a determined bacteria or virus to make it past their Saiyjin immune systems, but once one did they ran rampant through them, wreaking havoc on their bodies. The upside to this was the illnesses were usually short in their duration. But during that time…his thoughts were interrupted by Sage tugging on his shirt. He looked down into Sage’s fever flushed face and asked, “What? What is it?”

Sage’s voice was less than a whisper. “I need to go to the bathroom, Baka…”

“Ah…do you think you can make it on your own?”

Sage glared at him. It wasn’t as though he were totally incapacitated after all…it was just a damned sore throat!! He slid down from his bond-father’s lap and nearly fell, gasping in shock as his head swam in dizzy circles.

“You all right, chukra?” His Baka’s voice was soft in his ear. “Let me help you. The fever and your ears have made you a bit unsteady on your feet, baby.” Sage scowled, but was secretly pleased when his bond-father’s tail wrapped around his waist and he helped him walk the short distance from the bed to the boys' bathroom.

Sage gasped as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror over the sinks…he looked…well…awful!!! He sighed as Baka helped him over to the toilet, then tactfully retreated to the doorway to give Sage some sort of privacy while still being close enough to catch him if he fell. Sage finished his business and stumbled back to Baka, his head swimming, aching and generally feeling lousy. He didn’t protest as his bond-father picked him up in strong arms and bore him back to his warm, safe bed. In fact, he was snoring before his head hit his shirt-covered pillow.

Goku covered him tenderly, laying a kiss on his fevered forehead and headed downstairs to see what Vegeta was up to.

The Saiyjin no Ouji was at the moment going through the cupboards looking for various items to put in the blended iced beverage he was concocting for his youngest offspring. He stopped when Goku walked into the kitchen, worry evident in his large midnight eyes.

“How is he, Kakkarott?” Vegeta’s voice was tinged with concern.

“Hot, hurting, thoroughly sick, Vegeta. He wanted you when he woke up.” Goku’s voice held no trace of accusation, merely a simple statement.

Vegeta sighed. “I know, koi, but I was still fighting with Bulma. She’s convinced, and I am inclined to agree with her, what Sage has is a rather nasty strain of strep. She wants to take him to the doctors; I think it would be better for Sage to just let his immune system deal with it and treat the symptoms…make him as comfortable as we can. His system should kick in after a day or so and make short work of the infection.” He sighed. “On the other hand, his ears have me worried.”

Goku nodded in agreement. “They bother me too. And apparently they are bothering him. He couldn’t even stand without help, Vegeta; I could feel how dizzy he was. Are you sure a doctor wouldn’t be of some help?”

Vegeta shook his head. “The medicines Bulma speaks of are much too slow to take effect to be of any help with demi-Saiyjin physiology. By the time they started to really help, Sage would be recovered. That is, if they helped at all.” Vegeta sighed. He could feel his son’s pain, his fever, his helplessness in the face of the illness. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to take it all away from Sage, to bear the sickness himself. He glanced at his mate. “You realize this is only the tip of the iceberg, ne? Whatever Sage has contracted, Trunks and Goten are sure to succumb to it also."

Goku nodded. “Should we have kept them home from school today, do you think?”

Vegeta shrugged. “Too late now. But tomorrow they stay home. And you should call over to Gohan’s…have him keep himself and his family away for awhile. You know how Gohan is…I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up already. We don’t want Pan coming down with it.”

Goku inclined his head in assent and moved towards the phone when a small noise from upstairs caused both their heads to jerk upwards. The bonded mates looked at each other, expressions of dawning realization spreading across their faces….then as one they turned and sprinted for the stairs.

Panting slightly, they shoved against each other in the open door way, both trying to see into the boys' shared sleep room. The sight meeting their eyes was kawaii, no doubt about it. And not completely unexpected. But it blew to bloody hell their plans of keeping this illness confined.

Gohan was snuggled under the covers with Sage, purring deeply and loudly, the tips of their tails poking out from the blankets twined comfortably together, blue-black velvet wrapped cozily with deep, dark brown. His eyes closed, he stroked the younger Vegeta’s hair soothingly as Sage snuggled closer to the warm, safe heat that was Gohan.

Surprisingly, it was Goku’s usually cheery voice that echoed through the room. “Aww SHIT!!” he exclaimed. “Oh, Videl is going to be PISSED.”

Gohan blinked sleepily at his fathers. “Be quiet,” he hissed. “You’ll wake him. I JUST got him back to sleep…he was having a nightmare.”

Vegeta sighed. “Gohan,” he said patiently, and a little too quietly, “Come out in the hall, son, we need to talk.”

Gohan frowned, but carefully extracted himself from Sage and slipped out of the bed to follow his fathers out into the hall. The second he was out of the room, Vegeta smacked him upside the head.

Gohan glared at his bond-father and whined, “Owww…Otousama, what’d you do that for?”

“Baka brat,” growled Vegeta, “Now you can’t go home till this thing runs its course. That is, unless you want Pan and Videl infected with it…”

Gohan blanched. “I didn’t even think about them,” he confessed. “I’ve been feeling hot and tired and achy all day, thought I was coming down with something. It was when I nearly fell asleep in class I realized it wasn’t me…but Sage. Who gave him Nyquil?” He frowned, gesturing towards the room where the bottle rested on the bedside table. “That’s way strong for a chibi, and this early in the day…”

Vegeta interrupted. “Bulma did when it became clear Sage couldn’t swallow pills.”

Gohan looked around. “Where is Bulma-san, anyhow?”

“She went to the pharmacy to try and find some stuff to make Sage more comfortable. Obviously we can’t keep him doped up on Nyquil for the foreseeable future,” replied Goku.

Gohan looked back at his youngest brother, frowning. “He’s in so much pain,” he said softly. “And the fever has started giving him nightmares.”

“What kind of nightmares,” interjected Vegeta sharply.

Gohan met his Ouji’s eyes squarely. “The worst kind,” he said evenly, no trace of the horror and disgust he felt at his sibling’s sleeping terrors seeping into his voice. He looked at Sage again. “I don’t think he should be left alone.”

“Well, we were planning on moving him downstairs anyway. Vegeta, should we do that now?” Goku asked.

Vegeta assented. “Hai…can you go make up a nest on the couch for him, koi?”

Goku smiled and padded off as Vegeta turned to Gohan.

“You’re the medical student, boy, what do you think?”

Rather than shrugging his shoulders helplessly as he might have had anyone else asked him that question, Gohan turned and walked back into the room where his ill sibling lay. Combining what he had learned in nearly three years of medical school with the strong blood-bond he shared with his brothers, he placed his hand on Sage’s chest and examined him.

“Strep throat,” he said finally, his hand still on Sage’s chest. “Nasty double ear infection. His lungs are clear, but his airways are somewhat inflamed, hurts him to breathe. Sinus congestion…that accounts for the headache. High fever, and rising.” He looked at his bond-father. “It all adds up to one completely miserable chibi.”

Vegeta nodded. “What would you recommend then?”

Gohan thought for a moment. “Make him comfortable, treat the symptoms, try and get his fever down and let his Saiyjin immune system tackle it. Antibiotics won’t do him one bit of good. By the time they kick in, he’ll be well on his way to recovery, if not fully recovered.”

“And his ears?” questioned Vegeta.

Gohan sighed. “Those are more of a concern,” he admitted. “As sensitive as our ears are, he is going to be in agony when he wakes up.”

Vegeta flinched involuntarily. “Is there anything we can do for his ears?”

Gohan frowned. “If Bulma-san brings the right medication…a good decongestant would help, and help with his sinuses as well. It won’t solve the problem, nor will it absolve the symptoms entirely, but it will help. And we should bathe him, I think. That will make him feel more comfortable and get his fever down at least a little.”

Vegeta nodded and strode into the boys' bathroom and began to fill the large sunken tub with tepid water. Gohan followed him. “We’ll bathe him, then move him downstairs for the time being,” said Vegeta over the fall of water into the tub. “Hopefully by the time we get him settled downstairs Bulma will be back and you can talk her out of taking him to the doctors and we’ll see what she’s brought. We’ll take him in with us tonight…we can only guess when Goten and Trunks will succumb, but they and Sage will be more comfortable if they are separated, at least for the time being.”

Gohan nodded. “I’ll sleep with Truten tonight then…and I’ll call Videl after we bathe Sage, ne?”

Vegeta started to reply he was perfectly capable of bathing his son himself when he caught the look on Gohan’s face. Gohan and Sage had always been very close; he was reminded forcefully by the demi-Saiyjin’s concerned demeanor. No doubt Gohan was worried, and anxious to help comfort Sage in any way possible. It won’t kill you, Vegeta, to let the boy help, Vegeta found himself scolding silently. And Sage isn’t the tiny chibi he once was…another set of hands wouldn’t go awry… he was after all going to be very groggy from the Nyquil…and Kakkarott is occupied downstairs. He sighed and said, noting the water level in the tub, “You go ahead and get in, I’ll get Sage, ne?”

Gohan nodded and turned to begin stripping. Vegeta walked quietly into the bedroom and sat beside his youngest on the low bed all his sons had once shared. Graceful fingers stroked black bangs back from a sensitive forehead and Vegeta found himself purring as Sage’s eyelids fluttered open.

“Tou’tan?” Sage’s tortured voice was a mute whisper, and Vegeta pressed two fingers to his feverish lips.

“Hush, Sage-chibi. Don’t talk. How do you feel about a bath?” Sage blinked. Vegeta, reading through the bond, responded to his son’s unvoiced thoughts. “I know you’re tired, that’s why Gohan and I will both be in the tub with you. Your fever keeps going up, son, and bathing is a good way to reduce it. Your kassan is still out looking for medicine to help you feel better, and after your bath, your Baka is making you a nest on the couch. You’ll be more comfortable down there and everyone will be around you.” As he talked soothingly to his child, Vegeta was efficiently rolling back the heavy covers and deftly undressing his sweat-covered baby. Sage shivered as the relatively cool air struck his skin. “Shhh,” murmured Vegeta. “I know, you feel cold, but it’s all right,” he reassured the chibi as he gathered the small, naked form into his arms and stood. “You’ll feel better once you’re in the water.” Sage leaned his dark head against his Tou’tan’s chest as they walked into the bathroom.

Gohan was sitting in the tub, and Vegeta handed the sleepy Sage down to him and stood to undress himself. He heard a vibrant purr and as he turned to slip into the tub he noticed Sage curled up in Gohan’s lap, Gohan’s arms around his chibi-sibling as he gently scooped lukewarm water over Sage’s feverish skin. He could feel Sage’s relief through the bond, even the throbbing in his son’s head lessening as he relaxed under the gentle streams of water Gohan was dribbling over his exposed skin.

Vegeta grabbed a bath sponge and some mild soap, by-passing the family’s favorite strong peppermint soap, and lathered the sponge up. Tenderly he began washing the sleep-fever sweat from his son’s flushed body, taking care not to get soap in Sage’s eyes, rubbing gently, causing Sage’s eyelids to slip to half-mast as he relaxed in Gohan’s embrace under his father’s devoted bathing.

Gohan held Sage carefully, not wanting to hurt the boy, but firmly enough so his slippery body wouldn’t slide off from his lap if he shifted or lost his grip. He watched Vegeta with a kind of wonder in his gaze. He KNEW, not only from his own interactions with the prince, but through the blood bond how the usually stoic Ouji felt about his youngest son, but unlike the rest of the children (he still counted himself among them despite his adult status) he could remember when Vegeta had been VERY different. As his bond-father rinsed the residual suds from Sage’s very nearly tranquil form, he thanked the gods for the child he held in his lap. His own father had mentioned it once, and Gohan agreed, all the changes that had occurred for the better in their families had begun the day Sage had been born. It wasn’t something to think about everyday…Sage was annoying enough there were plenty of times a poor beleaguered soul longed to launch him into low earth orbit, but when he was sick…or sleeping it was easy to remember…and to be grateful.

“Turn him around in your lap,” came the quiet voice of the Ouji. Gohan obeyed, and Vegeta massaged a bit of lemon scented shampoo into Sage’s wet mane, Gohan’s sensitive nose detecting the shift from sweat scent to clean, faintly lemon scented strands of pure midnight as Vegeta rubbed and stroked his son’s hair and scalp in an age old calming Saiyjin motion. The urge to groom was strong, and Sage responded to it, his eyes glimmering up at Gohan as his own personal scent changed slightly from miserably-sick-but-relaxed, to sick-but-going-boneless-anyway-thank-you-very-much, and Gohan smiled. He shielded Sage’s eyes as Vegeta poured clean water over Sage’s hair, washing away the foam and suds, working and squeezing out the excess water and rinsing again.

When he was finished, Sage blinked and smiled faintly at his father and bond-brother. “Does that feel better, chukra?” asked Gohan. Sage nodded, looking more alert and awake than he had when the bath had begun, a contradiction since he was also much more relaxed than when they had started. He leaned his head back against Gohan’s chest, wiggling slightly until he was comfortable, his hair a messy halo around his head, neither completely wet, nor dry. Gohan purred slightly and stroked his fingers through the damp, stiff-soft strands, feeling his bond-brother relax even further under his fingers.

“We can’t stay in here too much longer, chibi,” he said quietly. “Soon the water will be too chilly for you to be comfortable. But your fever should stay down a little at least. And Bulma-san should be back soon with medicine to help you feel better.”

Sage frowned. “’smatter with me?” he croaked.

“Shhh,” soothed Gohan, as he looked at Vegeta for instructions. A brief incline of the royal visage gave Gohan the permission he needed and he spoke quietly to Sage. “You have strep throat, a bacterial infection. It is a really nasty strain, of course it would have to be to get past your defenses.” He chuckled quietly, then continued. “In addition, your ears and sinuses are infected. You’ll be all right, chukra, but until you are, you are going to be very miserable I’m afraid.”

Sage scowled, and tried to sit up, his eyes widening as the world swam and the dizziness in his head overtook him.

“Saa chibi, calm down,” said Gohan quietly. “Your balance is badly affected from the ear infections.”

“Want Tou’tan,” whispered Sage harshly.

Gohan wasn’t insulted in the least. He merely passed the sick chibi over to his father, then nodding at the both of them, he stood and exited the tub, snagging a drying cloth and heading back into the boys’ shared sleep room.

Sage looked questioningly at his father, who answered, “He’s going to get things ready for you. When we get out of the tub, remember I told you your Baka made a nest for you on the couch?” Sage nodded mutely. “Well, we’ll get you into some clean pajamas, and take you downstairs and make you comfortable. I want you to drink what I’ll give you later, I know you’re not hungry, but you need to eat so your body can fight the infection.” Sage nodded again.

“Tou’tan,” he rasped. “I feel rotten.”

“I know you do, little one,” said Vegeta quietly. “But it won’t last long. Two to three days at the longest, and your Kassan and Gohan will find some medicines to help you feel better at least….Sage?” His voice rose in alarm as Sage’s eyes got wide, then wider and filled with tears. Two small hands clutched at his ears and a soft keening was audible from the back of his throat.

Reaching through the bond, Vegeta felt a wave of dizziness and pain course through him. The agony in Sage’s sensitive ears was excruciating, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. He stood carefully in the tub, trying to soothe Sage’s pained whimpering, and calling for Gohan.

The older Son appeared, wincing. “The last of the Nyquil wore off, didn’t it.” he said quietly.

Vegeta nodded, and Gohan carefully began to dry Sage with a soft cloth as they took him into the bedroom. Vegeta sat down on the bed, Gohan beside him, both purring nearly silently, trying to project the soothing vibrations into the anguished chibi as they wiped the last of the water from his slight body.

Sage shivered, not with cold, but with fever and pain as they swiftly dressed him in loose pajamas and wrapped him in a clean, sweet-smelling blanket. Gohan snagged the shirt he had been cuddling in the bed, and they proceeded down stairs to the living room.

A snug little nest of pillows and blankets was made up on the couch, with juice, books, TV remotes and video game controllers all within easy reach. Vegeta settled Sage down against the pillows and stroked his forehead soothingly, trying to will away some of his son’s pain. It wasn’t working. Gohan, handing Sage his shirt, blinked, then whispered something into Vegeta’s ear. The prince listened, then nodded slowly.

A little while later, when Vegeta came back into the living room with a glass of pink…well…frozen blended…glop …Sage was sitting against Gohan, his head leaning into the older boy’s chest as Gohan read to him from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, distracted somewhat from his pain.

“Here, chukra,” said Vegeta, “I want you to drink this down. It just tastes like strawberries, I promise, but there’s protein and vitamins in it that will help you fight this. And it is cold, so it shouldn’t hurt going down, ne?”

Sage frowned, but accepted the glass in a trembling hand. Gohan smoothly closed his own hand around Sage’s, steadying the slippery glass as the chibi brought the straw to his mouth. He sipped tentatively, then smiled. “’s good!” he whispered, then proceeded to down the entire glass.

Gohan stroked Sage’s forehead, purring proudly at him, “That’s very good, Sage,” he said, as he handed the glass back to Vegeta.

“I called your wife,” said Vegeta abruptly. “I told her not to expect you for the rest of the week at least, and to keep herself and Pan away. She wasn’t pleased.”

Gohan sighed. “I’ll have to call her and talk to her. Thank you, Vegeta-sama.”

He eased himself upright, trying not to jostle Sage too much in the process, frowning as Sage whimpered slightly, then grabbed at his throat again. He murmured a soft apology and left the room. Sage pouted briefly, then held the book up at his father, a pleading look in his eyes.

“Oh, all right,” grumbled Vegeta good-naturedly as he made himself comfortable beside his son, taking the book from slender fingers and opening it to the place Gohan had left off.

“It is dull, Son of Adam, to drink without eating,” said the Queen presently. “What would you like best to eat?”

“Turkish Delight, please your Majesty,” said Edmund.

Vegeta paused. “What IS Turkish Delight,” he wondered aloud.

Sage replied, his voice whisperish, “It’s rose-flavored candy,” he said. “It’s VILE.” He shuddered slightly, his pain temporarily forgotten. “Why he’d ask for THAT when he could have asked for Pocky I’ve NEVER understood.” He snuggled back down next to his Tou’tan who continued reading, grinning slightly.

The next half hour or so continued somewhat uneventfully, with Vegeta reading and Sage explaining the parts confusing to his Tou'tan. After a particularly painful, mind-bending explanation that included why and how beavers would lock their doors, why a lion could come back to life without dragonballs and how Edmund was NOT the hero of the story, Goku took pity on his koi and took over reading to the chibi. After about twenty minutes, Bulma came into the room accompanied by Gohan who had a HUGE bag in his arms.

Bulma sighed and flopped down in a chair. “What a PAIN!!” she exclaimed loudly. Sage winced and retreated under the pillows. “I don’t know HOW many times I told that baka I wanted ADULT strength pain reliever/fever reducer, NOT children’s strength.” She sighed again, then looked around, puzzled at the glares she was getting from everyone. “What?”

Vegeta’s voice dropped from his lips like ice cubes. “Lower your voice, onna, Sage’s ears are causing him horrible pain.”

Bulma cringed and whispered, “Sorry, Sage.” She motioned to Gohan, who set the bag down on the coffee table and began rummaging through it. Coming up with a bottle of adult strength liquid Motrin, she handed it to Gohan along with a calculator. “Could you figure out the dosage,” she asked plaintively. “My brain is just fried.”

Gohan accepted both, and began to punch numbers into the calculator, occasionally referring back to the bottle, looking up to ask his bond-father how much Sage currently weighed. He frowned, scribbled something on a handy pad of paper, ran his fingers over the calculator again, frowned again and did his figures a third time. Finally looking resigned, he shook the bottle vigorously, and opened it. He handed it to Sage, who looked at him questioningly. “The entire thing, Sage,” said Gohan.

Bulma frowned. “Are you sure, Gohan?” she asked. He handed her the pad of paper, the calculator and replied tersely, “Do the math yourself, Bulma-san.” To Sage he said, “Well, what are you waiting for? The whole bottle, Sage.” Sage looked at his father and bond-father, and receiving the nod from both of them, he shrugged and obeyed. The flavor really wasn’t too bad, he thought absently as he downed the syrupy liquid. Not nearly as bad as the Nyquil. He finished, and asked with his eyes for some juice please.

Goku obliged, pouring Sage a glass and helping the boy hold it so he could drink it down. Sage finished, and leaned back into his nest, completely exhausted. He closed his eyes, and shortly had drifted back off to sleep, the ache in his ears already diminishing as his demi-Saiyjin metabolism sent the drug to it’s best possible uses. Bulma watched as her youngest fell asleep, and sat up and rummaged through the shopping bag, muttering to herself.

“Well,” she said finally. “If that’s the case, then we’re going to need more Motrin. I got an even dozen bottles, but if he’s going to need one every few hours…and then when Trunks and Goten come down with it…” She stopped and looked at Gohan, as though seeing him for the first time. “Gohan, what are you DOING here?” she asked in a loud, surprised whisper.

Gohan sighed. This was going to be a long week.

Later on, Sage roused briefly enough to take some decongestant which, when it took effect had the result of making everyone who was around Sage completely miserable. Now that he was more comfortable, his temperature no longer climbing, and his ears and throat and head aching much less, he was in full wounded tiger mode, growling and snapping at innocent people who were only trying to make him feel better. The only person who escaped unscathed was his Grandmother. Sage loved his father and bond-father and his kassan, he even loved his brothers, though you usually couldn’t get him to admit it, but that didn’t stop him from being as grumpy and nasty to them as he possibly could. His Obaasan, however, was a different story. Sage instinctively wanted to protect her gentle soul. His grandmother had a way of knowing about everything going on in the house, but projecting an aura of near-air headedness. She really was very intelligent, but her intelligence was of a different sort. There was no doubt she was a flake, but she had a heart of pure gold, and Sage always sheathed his fangs around her. He took her fussing over him with more than a little bit of good grace, and it provided the family no end of amusement to see the young prince consenting to being spoon-fed strawberry Jell-O.

Sage dozed on and off for the rest of the day and into the evening, being read to by Gohan and playing video games with Trunks and Goten as he felt able to. He didn’t join the family for dinner, still not being up to eating, but his grandmother brought him a tray with soup and toast and to his relief helped him eat it while the rest of the family was still eating in the dining room. His ears ached, but they still worked fine, and he hadn’t forgotten the sniggers from the various doorways over the Jell-O incident.

For their part, Trunks and Goten took Sage’s abuse fairly well. They knew perfectly well, once he was feeling better, and they were stuck in bed with sore throats and aching heads he would be the first one trying to make them feel better. It was just one of his many MANY idiosyncrasies. Raging, rabid Oozaruu when he was sick, turned chibi nursemaid when he got well and his brother’s were sick. No one ever mentioned it, for fear of their lives. Of course, he pretended he was just coming in to rub salt into their collective wounds, but when he left, there were fluffed pillows, slaked thirsts, cool wet clothes adorning feverish foreheads and generally pampered siblings in his wake. It was…odd.

Trunks was watching his younger brother sleep with something akin to fascination. The boy looked SO much like their father it was spooky. And sound asleep, he was just so…kawaii!!! Never say that out loud, he reminded himself. Not unless you have a really good escape route handy. As he watched, Sage’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked around, his eyes desolate as he obviously didn’t find who he wanted.

“You want me to get him for you, chibi?” asked Trunks, knowing instinctively who it was Sage was looking for.

Sage scowled and bared his teeth at Trunks in a silent growl, a warning Trunks knew for the use of the forbidden “c” word. Trunks smiled. He wasn’t really intimated. “I’ll go find Papa-san,…. Vegeta.” He stood up, and ducked, but still got hit broadside with a pillow. He grinned and tossed it back good naturedly. “I’ll get you back when you’re feeling well, Sage,” he promised as he wandered off to find the elder Vegeta.

Another bath, fresh pj’s and Sage was snugly tucked inbetween his Tou’tan and Baka for the night. Trunks, Goten and Gohan all scuffled briefly in the shared sleep room, wondering out loud who would be the next to fall ill. They fell asleep in a tangle of limbs and tails, in positions no sane human would be able to find comfortable, yet they all slept soundly.

Sage slept less soundly, simply because of his discomfort. He awoke in the middle of the night, in pain again, and another bottle of Motrin and some decongestant later, he drifted back off to sleep, surrounded by comforting heat and purring. He awoke again near dawn, and poked his bond-father repeatedly until Goku woke and helped the still unsteady chibi to the bathroom.

“You don’t have to stand in the doorway, Baka,” said Sage as he attended to business. “I feel lots better, you know.”

Goku smiled gently at his youngest son. “I don’t think you feel as well as you think you do, chukra,” he said amused.

“But I do,” insisted Sage, his voice hoarsely earnest. “I feel nearly normal….” His voice dropped off as he attempted to walk back to his bond-father, and was saved from hitting the floor hard, by Goku’s swift reactions. He glared as his bond-father chuckled lightly.

“You do feel better; your fever is down a great deal. But you’re still sick, chibi, and you probably won’t be completely better for a couple of days yet.”

Sage sighed. “But I don’t wanna be sick,” he pouted as Goku tucked him back into bed, cuddling him closely.

“I know you don’t, Sage,” said Goku, kissing Sage’s forehead softly. “But you’ll feel better when you wake again, and tomorrow you’ll probably be almost back to your sweet self.”

Sage smacked him, rather less hard than he normally would have.

“See what I mean?” said Goku amused. “You didn’t even leave a mark. Now go to sleep, bratling. The more you sleep the faster you’ll get well, ne?”

Sage sighed and nodded, curling into his Baka’s comforting warmth and dropping off quickly.

And the next day, Sage did indeed feel much better when he awoke mid-morning. Per their father’s orders, Trunks and Goten stayed home from school, basically waiting to get sick, Gohan, stuck in the house with his brothers seemed to immediately become one of the kids again and pestered his father and Vegeta nearly as much as the younger three did. Bulma retreated to her lab to find some peace from the bedlam warring in the main house and Sage, who wasn’t feeling quite well enough to leave his wounded tiger mode completely behind, spent the day alternating in between playing with his siblings and growling and snapping at everyone in sight.

The two Saiyjins got a breather around mid-day as Sage ran out of steam and collapsed into a three hour nap, the older boys quieting down without his chaotic influence.

Goku and Vegeta sat at the dining room table, eating listlessly, listening to the three older boys arguing over what game to play on their system in the living room. Finally Goku broke the exhausted silence.

“Wanna drown ‘em?” he asked tiredly.

Vegeta grunted. “Sounds good to me,” as Goten’s voice carried effortlessly from the living room. “I’m TELLING DAD, GOHAN!!! It’s MY TURN!!!” Goku sighed and hid his head in his hands. “I’m not home,” he said, his voice muffled. “Please Kami, I’m NOT HOME!!!”

Vegeta chuckled and ran slender fingers through his mate’s mass of midnight hair. “It’ll be over soon, koi.”

The muffled voice emerged from the larger man’s arms. “Sooner if we drown ‘em,” he pointed out.

“True,” mused Vegeta, as though seriously considering it.

By the end of that evening, both Trunks and Goten were showing signs of coming down with the strain of strep that had knocked their younger brother flat. Sage, on the other hand, had managed to eat dinner with the family, though not as much as he normally would have, and his temperature had been normal without drugs since he had awoken from his afternoon nap.

He was sound asleep in the middle of their bed long before the two Saiyjin parents had gotten the elder three off to bed. Vegeta sighed, Trunks’ whining and Goten’s pouting were already getting on his nerves, and Gohan was getting that wide-eyed feverish look. “The only plus side to this,” he remarked to his mate, “is we’ll get the rest of them over this in one fell swoop. No one of them getting sick, then well, before another succumbs to it.”

“H…h…hai,” yawned Goku. “Remind me of that tomorrow, will you, koibito?”

Vegeta chuckled and pushed his mate towards their bathroom. Emerging a little while later, damp but feeling considerably better, they were still talking quietly.

“I am very glad we aren’t susceptible to human illness,” said Goku seriously.

“Me too,” replied Vegeta as he crawled into bed beside his recovering son, Goku flanking Sage’s other side. “Now get some sleep, tomorrow’s going to be hell.”

Sage slept peacefully between his fathers, his recently diseased body nearly finished eradicating the illness from his system. Tomorrow would dawn, and he would feel like his old self, no lingering weakness or aches, fully recovered. He would convince his fathers to let him stay home from school to help with the care of his brothers, (not to mention the fact he absolutely REFUSED to go to school without at least ONE of his brothers) and he would indulge his nurturing instincts. Trunks would whine, Goten would pout, Gohan would look all chibi with those big, wide fever-filled eyes and Sage…Sage would repay all the care they had given him when he was sick and horrible to all three of them. They wouldn’t realize it, he took great pains to cover it up, but he would know. And in a very few days, the sore throat epidemic would be over, and everything would go back to normal.

Or as normal as things ever were at Capsule Corporation.

*******Owari*********