Sick

Okay so I thought I'd try something new. So instead of it being Bella it's Edward oh and Bella doesn't exist or Edward doesn't know her yet.

One-shot

Edward is a 14 year old human, found by the Cullens, how do they deal with him when he's sick? The Cullens are Vampires

I leaned over the toilet bowl, trying not to alert my family to the fact that I was in the bathroom, heaving out my intestines. I hate being sick! It was one of the things I was looking forward to when I turned into a vampire. Immunity to all diseases, illness and anything else that could befall me when I was human.

I leaned back from the toilet bowl, praying to all the Gods that I had ever heard of that my family hadn't heard me. I knew that if they knew that I was currently being violently sick, they would wrap me up in fifty blankets and force who-knows-what down my throat. I mean, it was just a cold!

Okay, so I felt freezing, had a high temperature that I couldn't feel, coughing hurt and I had a blocked nose, but it was going around, not that my family would care. To them I was their baby and really fragile.

Okay, so compared to them I was. But I was 14, I could care for myself!

I guess it had something to do with Mum and Dad adopting me when I was 6 months old, not that that was unusual, but all the others had been 18 or older and they had just been changed from a weak human into a beautiful vampire.

Anyway, none of my sisters or Mum could have a baby so they were really protective of me.

I felt pain shoot across my stomach, as if someone had plunged a knife into me and I lunged for the toilet bowl once again, knowing that in a few minutes I would probably feel a cold hand on my forehead.

I felt what I had had for dinner last night come back up, and I gasped for breath.

One of the things that I really, really hate about throwing up; you can't breath through the vomit.

I pushed myself away, and leant against the cabinet behind me, hoping that it would steady me, and stop the bathroom from spinning. A sudden spasm hit me as I coughed, my throat felt as sore, as if one of my siblings had ripped into it.

"Edward?"

I groaned inwardly, my dad Carlisle was a doctor- and a good one, but when it came to me, he went over the top.

I opened my mouth to hiss at him to leave me alone, and the knife embedded in my stomach felt like it had been twisted violently. I let out a whimper and hovered back over the toilet bowl.

"Edward!" I felt Dad's hands rub my sweaty back. "Sh, sh, that's it, get it all up, you're okay, sh, just breath, don't rush, that's it."

My heart thudded in my ears as I leant away from the toilet, determined to get as far away from the offending object as possible.

I rested my head on Dad's chest, too weak to hold it up myself. Tears from throwing up streamed down my face.

Dad opened his mouth to talk to me but I jumped back to the toilet. This time dad gently held my head while I puked.

My head still in the toilet, I heard dad open the cabinet and close it again, I realised it was a thermometer when he shoved it under my arm.

Shaking, I leant back against Dad, tilting my head up, hoping that this would stop my body from rebelling.

Dad's marble hand caressed my head, but now I welcomed it and the cold it brought.

He gently patted my back as another horrible coughing fit hit me.

The thermometer beeped to tell Dad that it had my temperature. He removed it from my sweaty arm and glanced at it.

"Edward," he sound both worried and disappointed that I would try to hide the fact that I was sick. I whimpered in response, I didn't think I could handle Dad yelling at me at that time.

"Come on; let's get your top off," Dad whispered, helping me sit up and removing my sweaty shirt.

"You know it would have been easier if you had just told me that you were sick."

"I thought it was just a cold, I didn't realise that I was going to be sick until tonight," I protested, though it didn't come out as clear as it could have since my nose was blocked.

"Okay, Edward," Dad said, testily handing me a tissue. "You've got a temperature of 102 degrees. This isn't a cold."

I moaned. I already knew it was more then a cold, I was throwing up for goodness' sake!

"Esme," Dad said, he knew she would be able to hear him. It was something I was annoyed about, nothing was private in this family.

"Could you go change the sheets on Edward's bed to something cooler, please?"

Esme smiled softly, and walked up and kissed my head. "Sure."

"Do you want me to do anything Carlisle?" asked Alice.

"Yes, a bucket and a towel? Put them beside his bed, on second thought, bring the bucket to us, we're going to have to move him."

Dad's voice was soothing and calm, speaking slowly, hoping to lull me into sleep.

He placed his hand on my stomach where the pain was worst and rubbed circles in it. I heaved and lunged for the toilet as he massaged the tight muscles in my stomach.

I tried to push his hand away. He wasn't helping! He was making me throw up more! But I would have had better luck at trying to push a brick wall over.

When I surfaced I let out a whimper, hoping that he'd get the message and quit, but then another wave of nauseousness hit me and I disappeared into the toilet again.

"Sh, Edward it's all right, I've got you," this time it was my brother Emmett, holding my head, stroking my hair.

"Come on let's get you out of here," he whispered in my ear. Careful not to jostle me he slipped his arms under my legs and back, pulling me into his arms.

I heaved at the sudden movement, and Alice rushed to get the bucket under my chin.

I laid my head on Emmett's chest, realising that my bare skin was being pressed against what felt like a giant ice cube. I started to drift.

"Hey!" Emmett shouted, I moaned in response, couldn't he just let me sleep!

"Sorry kiddo, but could you wait until we've gotten you into bed before you drift off? That way I won't wake you when I put you down."

I just groaned again, and pressed my cheek to the cold as I coughed.

"Don't run with him Emmett, you'll make him sick!" Alice shrieked. I cringed, did she have to be so loud? She was going to worsen my headache.

"He's already sick! And I wasn't going to run!" Emmett protested.

"You were going to, I saw it and you would have made him worse!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I could imagine the pout on Emmett's face and how it would disappear in a few moments. "Oi! I thought I said no sleeping!" I hadn't realised that I had drifted again.

"Then go put him to bed you idiot!" It was Rosalie, the most protective of me. "My poor baby," she whispered in my ear, smoothing back my hair from my forehead so that she could kiss it.

"Emmett, give him here, then go get him some water, he needs the fluids," I bit back a groan, it was starting, the fussing.

Carefully Rose wrapped her arms around me and hoisted me out of Emmett's grasp. "It's okay angel, go to sleep, I've got you."

"Yeah Eddie, trust me, just go to sleep- it'll be the last time you're going to be able to sleep properly for a week!" Alice danced up to me.

I wanted to yell at her for calling me Eddie, but I just coughed again, and shivered. Perhaps sleep wasn't such a bad idea. After all I would be tossing around in bed for the rest of the week. I hate being ill.

So what do you think? I know it may be a bit over done, but it be boring if it wasn't. And I know I made Edward suffer but I'm sick of him being so invincible.