it’s a hot, summer day when davey walks into the kitchen, looking pale as a sheet and nearly coughing up a lung.
“dave, you look like hell! are you okay?” jack asks, already concerned for him.
“what?” race exclaims, already striding into the kitchen having overheard from the living room. he immediately has his hand pressed against davey’s forehead to feel for a fever.
“shit, davie, you’re burning up. is anything else wrong? what do you need?”
“my throat and head hurt and i feel achy all over,” he rasps. “i don’t need anything. i’ve been sick before, i can take care of myself.”
“you didn’t live here before, so you didn’t have three of us to take care of you,” race reminds him. davey coughs again and jack winces at the force of it.
“alright, that’s it! back to bed with you! jack, spot, and i will take care of you,” race demands. davey nods tiredly, not in the mood to argue with race, and turns to go back to his room. spot enters the kitchen a few minutes later rubbing his eyes.
“dave’s sick,” jack informs him. spot immediately stops rubbing his eyes and grimaces in sympathy.
“poor davey! being sick in summer is the worst. what’s the plan of action?”
“the whole nine-yards,” race says, already moving frantically around the kitchen and gathering all the tea they had in their apartment into a massive pile on the counter. “we’ll need all the ingredients for soup so I can make that for him and we also need medicine too.”
“alright. i can run out and get that stuff,” spot replies.
“i’ll grab davey’s favorite blanket from the couch,” jack says.
“good idea, jackie!” race says.
it’s a few hours later that race is cooking away in the kitchen making his grandma’s recipe for chicken noodle soup and spot and jack have managed to get some medicine in davey and made sure he’s sleeping. over the next couple days jack, race and spot end up learning that davey’s very pliant when he’s sick.
davey’s felt better the last few days so he figured it was safe to start being a real human again. that, and race gave him the all clear two days ago. they all love to call davey the mom of the group, but if you ask davey race is a close second. especially if one of them is sad or sick.
he gets home late morning and walks in to see the rest of them curled up in blankets on the couch looking miserable while watching tv.
“oh no. you’re all sick aren’t you?” he asks dreading the answer. they all nod and groan in unison as a sign of affirmation.
davey absolutely scrambles the next few days trying to take care of spot, race and jack by himself. he seriously considers calling albert or someone as backup more than a few times.
“you have a fever, spot! why didn’t you tell me?” davey asks, concerned for spot’s health and also his sanity since he didn’t bother to tell anyone.
“i didn’t wanna make a big fuss. it’s fine, dork. i can handle it,” spot says.
“oh my god. even when you’re sick you’re annoyingly stubborn,” davey responds.
“you’re unbelievably whiny when you’re sick, love,” davey says to jack while dabbing his forehead with a washcloth.
jack scoffs and says not-whiny at all, thank you davey , “i’m sick, dave! you have to be nice to me!”
davey rolls his eyes fondly.
“race. you need to eat,” davey says.
“i don’t want to,” race says petulantly. davey sighs and holds the bowl of soup closer to race hoping to tempt him into eating something.
“please for me, oyzter?”
race narrows his eyes. “you know i can’t say no to anything when you call me that.”
“i know,” davey says with a small smirk, clearly pleased that race is going to get a little food in him. race flips him off before grabbing the bowl of soup from davey, but davey isn’t offended. at least race is still himself when he’s sick.
none of them know how, but miraculously they all make it through being sick without any major issues.
“thanks for taking care of us the last few days, dave,” jack says.
“it’s the least i can do. after all, you all took care of me when i was sick, so i’m just returning the favor.”
“yeah but, there was only one of you and three of us to take care of and i know these two ain’t easy to take care of when they’re sick,” spot says.
“hey!” jack and race say indignantly.
“it was no trouble, dear,” davey says.
“yeah, dear --” race says teasingly but immediately cuts himself off at spot’s death glare.
“only davey’s allowed to call me that!” spot crosses his arms.
“yeah, yeah, whatever spottie,” race leans over to give spot a wet kiss on the cheek to humor him. “anyways, davie probably loved mothering us,” race says.
“just not at all once ever again, please. that was awful,” davey begs.
“god forbid more than one of us gets sick at the same time ever again,” jack agrees.