Walker Advent calendar: Flap #9

Rate: G
Disclaimer: Just borrowing.
Summary: A Christmas tale.
Spoilers: None.
Word count: 448

Nora took out the cookies from the oven, deftly moving them to a bar for them to cool on. She takes out the homemade strawberry crème from the fridge and puts it in her basket, next to the big box filled with pasta and spinach sauce. She rearranges to fit in the tin of soup and when she’s fit everything in, she puts the cookies in a can and places it on top.

 

“I brought you a little care package,” she says and shows the basket to Scotty. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“No, it’s okay, I was up,” Scotty says, his voice leaving no doubt about whether he is sick or not.

 

“I didn’t know if you needed anything from the pharmacy, if you do I’ll run out and get it,” Nora says, picking up a very high-tech thermometer from the pocket of her jacket, and placing it in Scotty’s ear for only a second.

 

“101,” she says, looking at the display. “That’s pretty high, you should go back to bed.” Scotty giggles to Nora’s over-caring comment, but is happily tucked into bed by her with the soup, just heated up so it’s lukewarm, on his lap.

 

Nora makes him a big cup of tea with a spoon of honey in it. Scotty finished half the tin of soup before feeling so nauseous he needs to lay down again. He hears Nora rummage through the apartment and he’s afraid that she is cleaning it. He has no energy to either stop or help her, so he just lets her do whatever she wants.

 

He wakes up when she appears in the doorway, but has no idea how long it has been.

“I but the rest of the food in the kitchen for you, and I left a warning note for Kevin so he doesn’t eat the cookies I baked for you,” she says when walking over to him and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

 

For a second he imagines if his mother would ever do this, bake and take care and sit on the bed he shares with Kevin. The thought disappears when Nora strokes his forehead.

 

“You shouldn’t have, Nora,” he says, his voice so weak it almost breaks. She doesn’t reply to him, merely leans down and kisses his forehead, stroking his hair and smiling.

 

“I’ll stop by tomorrow to see how you’re doing, okay?” He nods in reply, too appreciative and feeling too sorry for himself to tell her not to.

 

“I love you, honey,” she says before getting up.

“I love you too, Nora,” he says, earning a smile in reply before she turns around and leaves.


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