Chapter 3 - Laura
I jerked awake, hearing Michael crying upstairs. I stumbled out of bed, slamming into a box on the ground and stubbing my toe.
"Son of a…" I bite my cheek to stop myself from crying. I shoved the box, moving down the hallway and hurrying towards the upstairs door.
I could hear him crying even louder as I got up the stairs, spotting him in a fetal position in his bed.
"Mom," he cried even harder as I moved closer, reaching out my hand.
"What's wrong, sweetie?" I asked, unsure of what was going on.
"I feel hot…and everything hurts."
I placed a hand on his forehead, feeling he was extremely warm. I pulled my hand back and quickly rubbed my eyes. I tried to think if I had even unboxed our medical stuff.
"Let me grab the thermometer," I said, turning and hurrying down the stairs. I tripped as I took the corner, slamming into the fridge. I cursed under my breath, shaking my head. I was still adjusting to the layout of the house and was frantic. I needed to pull myself together.
I turned, opened the cabinet, and found I had unboxed everything. I grabbed the thermometer and hurried back upstairs.
I popped it under his tongue, wiping his hair back. He was sweating, and my eyes widened as I pulled the thermometer out. His temp was 103.
"Jesus," I whispered, looking back at him.
"Mom, it hurts."
"I'm sorry, baby," I said, touching his forehead again. I knew he occasionally got high temperatures, but they had never been this high before, so was this something more serious?
It was moments like this that I wished I had some guidance.
"We're going to take you in," I said, scooping him up. He clung to me, and I could feel his entire body heat slam against mine. He was too hot.
I slowly walked down the stairs, grabbed my keys, and went to my car. I buckled him in and took us down the road.
I was pretty sure I was speeding, but I didn't care. I needed to get us there.
As we arrived at the ER, I parked and pulled him up once more. I carried him inside, suddenly realizing how I probably looked. I was wearing slippers and my pajamas. My hair was in a shitty bun that I struggled to get it in last night.
I hurried over to the desk, where a short older lady stood. "Hi, my son has an extremely high fever."
She looked up, and her eyes quickly bounced towards Michael. She pulled up a clipboard with papers. "Fill these out while I check to see if a room is open," she said.
I grabbed the clipboard and turned, taking a seat. I placed Michael next to me as I quickly scribbled our information down.
I pulled my gaze up just as a couple came to the counter. A tall man was holding a child who looked to be around Michael's age. They were given a clipboard, and when they turned, my eyes widened. It was Ayden.
His eyes landed on me just as quickly. "Laura? What are you doing here?"
The woman looked at me and then back at Ayden, confused. "Do you two know each other?"
"I just hired her," Ayden said.
"I started today," I added, "And I swear I didn't look like this when I went in."
"What are you doing here?" he asked again, his eyes looking down at Michael.
"He has a high fever, and he's not feeling good," I said.
"Michael, correct?" Ayden asked.
I nodded. Ayden had interviewed me by phone and video before I was hired. During the video interview, Michael ran in looking for his backpack for school.
"Oh, poor thing," the woman said, giving me a sympathetic look. "Sucks when you aren't feeling good."
"This is Wendy, my wife, and our daughter Poppy."
Poppy turned, giving me a soft smile, which I returned.
"Someone has been trying to tell us she can fly," Wendy added, rolling her eyes. "This is our ninth time in the ER. She keeps popping her shoulder out."
Poppy smiled, though. "I will fly."
"Maybe stop jumping off our staircase," Ayden added, reaching out a hand and pinching her cheek.
I was suddenly jealous. I could tell they both loved Poppy so much, and I wished Michael had more than just me. I wished he had his dad as well. It was moments like this that made me wish I had someone to lean on.
"Laura."
I pulled my head up as the nurse called my name. I scooped up Michael and headed towards the back with the nurse. I laid Michael on the bed and sat in a chair next to him.
The nurse held the clipboard and smiled. "Okay, so someone has a temperature and isn't feeling well?"
I nodded. "Yeah. He's had these before, but they've never been this high. We're new in town, and I haven't even gotten my new insurance or anything."
The nurse smiled. "It's fine. Ayden is right outside."
I blinked, surprised she knew that Ayden was my boss, but I brushed it aside. I was too tired to think. She probably just knew him because he's a fireman, and I wrote it down as my job.
"I'm worried he caught another bug."
"Let's just draw some blood and see what the labs say," she said, grabbing out a needle.
I held Michael's hand while the nurse drew his blood. She stepped out, leaving us alone. Worry built in my stomach.
I rubbed my forehead, feeling exhausted. I was working off four hours of sleep. I looked at the time, seeing it was just a little past three in the morning now.
"Mom, am I sick?"
I gave Michael a soft smile, brushing his hair back. "You're just a little warm, nothing to worry about."
He chewed on his cheek. "I hear that voice again."
I blinked. Michael had mentioned this before when he was sick the first time: that he heard a voice in his head. It had worried me before, and that panic grew in the pit of my stomach.
I didn't know what to say. What do I say?
I swallowed when the door opened, and a man entered the room. He held the clipboard, pulling my gaze away from Michael.
"Laura," the man looked at me smiling. "I'm Dr. Hart. Looks like Michael is going through his first signs of shifting."
I stared at him, opened my mouth, and then shut it. I processed his words and then scowled. "What?"
He raised an eyebrow at me. "His first shift; I'm sure he's shown signs before. This is normal. The temperature should go down in a few hours. We can give him some Tylenol for the pain, and he should be good."
I shook my head suddenly, wondering if I got a crack doctor. "Hold on, what the hell do you mean his first shifting? What the hell are you talking about?"
The doctor's face fell, and he frowned. "Oh…you don't know, do you?"
"Know what?" I snapped.
Dr. Hart placed his hands together. "Your son is a shifter. And from what I'm gathering, you being human and your reaction, you don't know much about us."
I just stared. I must be having a bad dream. I waved my hands and shook my head. "I don't understand. You need to explain and explain well before I start yelling because you aren't making any goddamn sense."
Dr. Hart continued to talk, explaining what he could. My mind felt like it was going to explode when he sighed. "The biggest sign is you normally hear your shifter animal in your head."
It suddenly clicked: Michael's temperature, occasional sickness, and the voice in his head.
My mouth just hung open slightly, and I couldn't speak. Dr. Hart gave me a sympathetic expression. "I didn't see his father listed on the papers, so I'm going to presume you don't know who it is?"
I shook my head. "I know who it is… he's just not part of the picture. He left. He never told me about any of this." Correction: He never told me he was one. I was aware of shifters, but it wasn’t like I’d been around them often enough to know everything.
Dr. Hart nodded. "Well, this can be hard to understand if you've never dealt with it before. We have programs for young mothers if you want to join. Normally, they are for expecting moms, but they take in newcomers who haven't been around before."
I frowned. "Okay....so you said it should go down? Just some medication?"
Dr. Hart nodded. "Yeah, if you have any questions, you can certainly call and ask. I would set him up with a doctor here so they can monitor his behavior, and if anything becomes serious, they can guide you with steps."
Dr. Hart left, and I stared at Michael. I ran my fingers through his hair, thinking, but my mind traveled to Miles. He never told me, and he never showed me any part of that side of him.
I suddenly was questioning if our relationship had truly been just about the sex. He never took me to see his folks or even took me to his hometown. Miles never told me anything about his life outside of college, and if he did, it was small things.
"Mom," Michael whispered. "Can we go home now?"
I smiled softly, leaning closer and pressing my nose against his. "The doctor is going to go get the discharge papers, and we will be okay. He says you just have a bug."
I knew I was lying to Michael but couldn't tell him the truth. I didn't know how to. I had to see if Miles was mature enough to handle something like this before I could even tell Michael. If Miles wasn’t ready, I wasn’t going to confuse Michael with the truth.
I closed my eyes and softly sighed. I could figure this out. I just needed a little time.
After filling out some extra paper and the nurse giving me a pamphlet for a group, we headed out. Outside, we found Wendy and Ayden standing with Poppy, who now had her arm in a sling. She had an extra pep in her step as she hummed next to Wendy.
Wendy spotted us and smiled. "How is he feeling?"
"He's doing okay," I said. "How is Poppy?"
"In a sling for a week," Wendy said, shaking her head. "It's a good thing the doctor knows she's a witch; otherwise, they would think we are beating our kid."
I started when Ayden cleared his throat.
"Uhmmm….Wendy, sweetie… she's new. She just moved into town."
Wendy looked at Ayden and then back at me. Her eyes widened. "Oh my god! You don't know. Oh, Jesus, I'm so sorry. I thought you knew about everything. Oh my god, you probably thought we were psycho earlier when we said our daughter was jumping off our staircase."
I nervously laughed. "Nope, just some airhead that doesn't know anything about the real world, I guess."
Ayden smiled gently. "It takes time to adjust. If you ever have any questions, we are more than willing to answer them."
I had plenty, but I was too tired to ask anything. I was still trying to understand my son.
"So, I'm going to gather you're a witch," I asked, looking at Wendy.
She nodded. "Yeah, we're hoping the next child will be gifted after their father."
I looked at Ayden, wondering what he shifted into. Was that appropriate to even ask? Probably not.
"They gave me a support group number."
"Oh, here," Wendy dug into her purse. I have a friend, Ashley, who might be of help to you. She has a shifter daughter, so she knows some of the signs for everything."
She scribbled the number down and handed me a little piece of paper. "She also is a shifter herself, so she would be able to answer some questions better than I would."
"Thank you."
"Mom, look," Poppy spoke up, and we all turned to see Poppy standing on top of the vending machine.
"Poppy Lee! You get down this second!" Wendy turned, storming off after her.
Ayden looked at me. "You can always call if you have any questions."
"Seems you have a handful there," I said, placing my hand on top of Michael's head as he leaned against me.
Ayden laughed, "You have no idea. See you tomorrow at work." He turned, hurrying after his wife and daughter.