Sick-A BTL SIDE STORY

Sick

By Chibi Hime

AN: More Beneath The Layers AU fun!

Queen Ilsa’s wide brown eyes were boring into Max’s soul. Her dainty hands were wringing a blue napkin in anxiety.

“It’s Kevin, Max. He won’t get out of bed! I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” Ilsa looked worried and pale, as usual.

Max looked up from his paperwork.

“He’s asking for you. He says he’s sick. I felt his forehead and he didn’t feel hot, so I told him to tell you himself, but you know how he is, he just wouldn’t move. So I, I came down to get you,” she said quickly, as if trying to hurry along with the conversation.

Max sighed.

“I’ll go have a look at him,”

“Oh, thank you...I’m just so busy. With Albert’s party being tomorrow and all...there’s so much to do...you know how it is...you have children...and grandchildren, I believe,” Ilsa smiled.

“Yes, well, grand child. Gwen’s the only one so far,” Max laughed.

“Yes,” Ilsa said, cheerfully, as if not sure how to finish the exchange.

Max decided to end it for her.

“Well, I’m off” he said, standing up.

He saw Ilsa swallow as he passed her on his way out of the room.

Max passed a lot of scrambling servants on the way upstairs to Kevin’s room.

Honestly.

Albert’s Party. Albert’s Birthday. Kevin is sick and I can’t be bothered with it right now. That’s how it sounded and that’s how it was...how it always was.

The uneven nature of the treatment of the two boys always sat uncomfortably in Max’s stomach. Still...they weren’t his children so he really didn’t have much to say in the matter.

With a heave, he opened a familiar door.

He briefly scanned the dark room...it wasn’t hard to find who he was looking for.

A suspiciously large bump sat under a sheet. A small glimmer of light indicated he was using his lure as a book light again. Max sighed and sat down on the end of the bed. The lump shuffled and Kevin poked his head out from the covers tentatively.

“I’m told you’re sick,” Max said.

He heard the child grumble.

The peculiar creature that was Prince Kevin crawled out from under his covers and laid down next to Max on the bed. He pulled all his extremities under him except for his two upper arms, which he rested his head on, never once making eye contact with the doctor.

“I hurt,” was all he said.

Max raised an eyebrow.

“Did you eat something unusual?”

“No! No, it’s nothing like that. It isn’t down in my tummy,”

“Is it something...personal...you know, that you don’t want to tell your mother about?”

“No!” the little body pulled in tighter on itself.

Max reached into his bag and pulled out a thermometer.

“Here, open up,” he said gently.

Begrudgingly, Kevin opened his mouth and bit down on the glass instrument.

Max pulled it out at the sound of a slight beep from the device. Kevin seemed to take interest in it and sat up slightly as Max read the results.

“Well, you don’t have a fever. Where does it hurt, exactly?” He asked calmly.

He saw Kevin start slightly, then run his oversized fingers over each other.

“I...I...This isn’t the first time. I hurt all the time. Don’t laugh!” Kevin snapped the last phrase, despite the fact that Max hadn’t even smiled.

“Why would I do such a thing?” Max asked.

Kevin shook his head.

“I just...I don’t want it to hurt anymore,”

“Kevin, I can’t take the pain away if you don’t tell me what’s hurting you,” Max replied a little gruffer than he meant to. Kevin could talk in circles for hours and he was in no mood for that. The child sensed his impatience and gently jabbed his chest with his crystal forefinger.

“Here. It hurts here. All the time. It isn’t like other pain. It doesn’t come from doing things or anything like that. It just hurts here,” he said simply, sounding as if admitting an ailment was somehow unbecoming.

Max suddenly felt ill himself. Kevin was referring to his heart, his feelings. The child hadn’t connected that it wasn’t a real illness, but rather, heart sickness.

“When does it hurt the most?” Max asked quietly.

A joyful giggle rose up through the window from the yard outside.

Kevin raised himself up onto his knees and peered out the window from his bed. On the grass below Albert had been swept into the arms of King Berkov and spun around. Queen Ilsa emerged into sight as well and the three of them carried on some happy banter about the forthcoming party. Max saw Kevin’s bizarre face turn sour.

“Now,” Kevin mumbled, curling back up into a ball.

“Oh, I see,” Max said, placing a large hand on the child’s back. He felt Kevin tremble from the contact.

He heard a stifled whimper come from the prince.

It was so easy to forget he was a child.

Max stood up.

Kevin’s three eyes widened as he felt himself being whisked into the air by a pair of large, strong hands. He felt those hands hold him close to a warm body. Unable to explain why, Kevin’s lower arms fiercely gripped Max’s shirt, as if he feared being flung off in a moment of realization. The freakish little boy found himself wrapped in a giant, unyielding bear hug. His eyes darted around, unsure of how he should respond, being unfamiliar with such contact.

“Kevin...you’re not sick, you’re sad,” Max said softly.

“I am NOT SAD!” came a defensive shriek, Kevin arched his back in an attempt to break away from the doctor.

Max squeezed him tighter and the struggling stopped.

“Yes you are...and it is alright. You can be sad. I just want to help you get happy. When you’re happy, the pain you’re talking about goes away,”

Kevin buried his twisted face in Max’s shirt.

“I wish you were my father! I wish I was born miles away from here and that I was part of your family. If I were a part of your family, I’d never be sad and I’d never hurt like I do!” Kevin sobbed into the older man’s shirt, his defenses crumbling completely.

Max just sat there, holding the child until he calmed down.

There really wasn’t anything he could do about it.

No, there wasn’t anything he could do about it at all.