One Direction Sickfics

Liam - for Born2Create20

As a sixteen year old guy, mornings were never my favourite time of the day. I hated being woken up and having to get out of bed with half closed eyes and a stiff neck every single day as most teenagers do. However, over the course of just over a week mornings suddenly became a lot tougher to survive.

Waking up actually became easier, but that was only because the moment I woke and shifted even the slightest bit bullets of adrenaline were fired around my body as the pain set in once again. I swore it was worse every time.

"What's that sour face for?" Dad asked, peering down at me with an amused smile on his face, "it's a new day."

Sunlight burned my eyeballs as he wrenched the curtains open, nearly ripping them right off the wall.

"Out of bed Liam, you've got school today remember?" He said, as if I needed the reminder.

Still I didn't move, not even bothering to speak. I needed a moment to gain the courage to shift.

"Tired from basketball yesterday?"

I nodded and lifted my chest up with a deep breath. My hands throbbed as I slowly tightened them into fists under the covers.

I hadn't said anything to my parents about the pains, even after my closer friends that I had told told me that I should. The game I'd played yesterday had been a championship game that I didn't want to miss out on and there was no way my parents would let me play if they knew that I almost cried getting out of bed every morning.

Now that I'd played and basketball season was over I figured it was safe to speak up. Lucky, because I wasn't sure if I could manage another day of school like this. Writing hurt my hands, there were strange pains in my elbows all day and even my ankles got stiff and sore throughout the day. It was so tiring that I'd begun napping in class, much to my teacher unhappiness.

"I don't feel good Dad," I murmured shyly. There was something about talking to Dad about things like this, weaknesses, that made me embarrassed.

Dad paused and scanned me over, his hands on his hips.

"You look tired. You're probably coming down with that horrid cold that's spreading around," he replied. I sighed, knowing that I was most definitely not.

"I don't think it's that Dad. . ."

He sat down beside me and touched my face, feeling for fever. If my hands weren't so sore I would've pushed him away. I turned my head away and groaned as I shuffled upright slightly against the pillow behind me. I couldn't tell whether basketball had made it better or worse.  While I was playing it had been pretty bad to begin with but as everything loosened up I started feeling better. Sitting in the car on the way home I was sweet, it was only when I got out of the car at home that things tightened up again, and my hands swelled.

"What's hurting?" Dad asked curiously, watching me intently as I winced and flinched at every movement.

"Everything," I admitted, carefully lifting my hands out so that he could see. Before even seeing them myself I knew how they'd look- red and swollen. My shoulders and back ached too, protesting furiously every time I moved.

I blinked hard as Dad gently took my hands in his, peering down at the fat knuckles worriedly, "and they're sore?"

"Killing," I corrected before listing off everything else that had been bothering me from my head to my toes. Dad let go of my hands and I lowered them to rest on my lap gently, using the heel of the right one to rub my eye. It had taken a while to fall asleep last night, I could've slept for another five hours at least.