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Louis awakens with a gasp, sweat beading at his forehead. He’s confused at first, because it’s still dark outside and he’s almost never awake before Daddy. But then he tries to roll over to go back to sleep and it feels like he’s being spun around really, really fast like that one time at Disney World on the teacup rides. A sob works its way up his throat, and before he can stop himself, he’s wailing. It’s a little hoarse because his throat is all scratchy, but it’s enough that Liam jerks awake next to him.
“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” Liam asks, voice rough from sleep.
He sits up and turns on the lamp, finally getting a good look at Louis. His cheeks are flushed, but the rest of his face is pale, and his shirt is damp from sweat. Liam coos, pulling Louis onto his lap.
“Oh, no, my poor boy. You’re not feeling very well, are you?” he says, pressing a quick peck to Louis’s forehead. As expected, his little boy is burning up.
Louis just whines, shivering now that he’s out from under the covers. If he were big, he’d sneak off into the kitchen to make himself a cuppa then sleep on the couch, but being this little while he feels so bad makes everything so much more. He feels too small to talk much, and he’s not even sure he’d be able to with the way his throat burns when he tries to swallow.
“C’mon, love, let’s get you changed and then you can have some medicine, yeah?” Liam soothes, setting Louis down gently at the foot of the bed. He slips a towel under his lower half then pulls a new nappy, wipes, and a bottle of baby powder out of the plain bag that lives in their closet.
As soon as Louis is dry and the old nappy has been disposed of, Liam scoops him up onto his hip and carries him effortlessly to the kitchen. He sets Louis down on one of the bar stools and rummages through the cabinet for the cold medicine that’s hopefully not yet expired. Louis doesn’t have the energy to tell him that it’s now in the bottom right cabinet since the last time Harry came over and reorganized all of their stuff. He rests his head on his arms, breathing hotly through his mouth and wishing that he were actually dead right now.
Liam finds the medicine eventually, and when he does he measures out a spoonful before carefully guiding it to Louis’s mouth. Louis accepts it without a fuss, which is perhaps the most worrying thing about this whole situation. Louis is always putting up a fuss about something, either because he likes being a brat or because he’s actually unhappy Liam isn’t exactly sure. He suspects it’s a decent amount of both.
“Would you like some tea, love? With some honey? It’ll feel good on your throat,” Liam coaxes, taking a seat on the stool next to his boy and running his hands over the back of Louis’s damp t-shirt.
Louis shrugs, turning his face into his arm so that he can’t see his daddy. He feels bad for waking him up in the middle of the night, and for being such a pain. Louis doesn’t normally care about bothering Liam (he bothers him with relentless pestering and pranks on a regular basis after all), but now that he’s little and sick, well. Everything feels like it’s too much.
Liam decides that tea is a good idea, and soon enough he’s shaking a baby bottle full of tea up to mix in the organic, local honey given to them by none other than Harry. He hoists Louis onto his hip and carries him back to their bedroom then settles into the loveseat in the corner of the room. When he’s gotten Louis situated properly on his lap, he guides the nipple to Louis’s lips and coos softly when he latches on.
Louis makes a soft noise of contentment, slowly suckling down the soothing tea. It feels so good against his throat that he could cry. He does cry actually, but he’s not certain of the reason. All he knows is that he desperately wants Liam to keep holding him like this, to make the pain go away.
“Daddy,” he whines softly, a bit of tea leaking out of his mouth and dribbling down his chin.
“Shhhh, you’re alright, sunshine, Daddy’s got you,” says Liam, rocking Louis against his chest. He wipes the tears from the corners of Louis’s eyes. “You’ll feel so much better in the morning, yeah? We’ll stay in bed all day and watch movies, then when you’re well again we can go play outside.”
Louis whimpers, curling his fingers into his daddy’s shirt, blinking heavily against the sleep that’s fighting to overcome him.
“Dummy,” he manages, eyes slipping shut.
Liam hums and carries him to their bed. He leaves for a moment, which makes Louis tear up again, but then he’s back with Louis’s dummy and a new t-shirt so he doesn’t have to sleep in his gross, sweaty one. Liam carefully changes Louis’s shirt and slips is dummy into his mouth, then tucks them both under the covers. Louis burrows into Liam’s chest, half on top of him.
“Love you,” Louis mumbles from behind his dummy.
“Love you too, baby,” murmurs Liam, fingers tracing gently over Louis’s bicep. “Love you so much.”
Louis sighs, breaths already slowed down to near sleep. He means to tell Liam that he loves him more, to thank him for everything, but the warm sweetness of the tea and honey lulls him to sleep before he can get the words out.