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“Really, Uncle Derek,” Jackson says, trying to get up from the couch. “I can drive me and April home. I brought my car…”
Derek gently pushes on his shoulder and drops him back down beside his cousin. “Oh, I know you brought your car. There lies the problem.”
“Told you we should’ve brought our bikes,” April mutters to Jackson. “Quicker getaway.”
“Your mode of transportation wouldn’t have mattered, April,” their uncle corrects. “You two know you weren’t supposed to come over here.”
“Oh, that won’t give us a complex about your love for us,” Jackson quips.
Derek tilts his head. Jackson holds up his hands.
“I was just trying to make a joke. Sheesh.”
“Maybe now isn’t the time for jokes. You know your aunt and I love you both. It doesn’t change that Alex is sick and you two shouldn’t be around him right now. He’s very contagious.”
“You can’t get chickenpox twice!” Jackson argues. “I already had it when I was 5.”
“You can. It’s uncommon, but it does happen.”
Jackson scoffs and folds his arms over his chest. April sighs. “Uncle Derek, I can’t get chickenpox.”
“Anyone can get it. As a doctor, you really should know that.”
“I mean, I’m immune.” Derek casts her a dubious look. “I’m serious! All three of my sisters had it at the same time, plus my cousins, plus a lot of the kids at school. If I was going to catch it, don’t you think I would’ve by now?”
“Alex also didn’t have it his entire 26 years of life, and now he does.”
“Okay, but that’s Alex. His immune system is worse than mine.”
“I’m not arguing about this with you. On top of both of you knowing you shouldn’t be around Alex, you were also told not to come over. Not just by me but your parents as well.”
Jackson pouts, looking at his shoes. The whole thing is ridiculous! He already had chickenpox when he was a kid. Why should he be kept away from Alex right now? He tried to tell April not to come but when she just kept listing all the people she used to be around that had it and she never got it, he gave in. Maybe she truly is immune. Some people just get that lucky!
“We were around Alex the day he realized he had it,” April points out. “And we were at the hospital where the outbreak started. So…if we were going to catch it, we would’ve by now.”
“It’s called preventive measures. It’s the exact reason why you also aren’t supposed to be at the hospital right now while all of this is going on.” April opens her mouth but Derek doesn’t let her talk. “Enough. Not another word out of either of you until your parents get here. You’re not going to magically convince me that what you did is okay.”
April’s face falls. She picks at the bracelet on her wrist. Jackson’s thumb inches into his mouth but he quickly pushes it down. Derek looks between the two of them and shakes his head. His voice grows a little calmer.
“I know you two love your cousin so much,” he says. “And he loves you too. Just like myself and all the other adults in your life do. That’s why we want you to be healthy and safe. You can see Alex when he’s not contagious anymore.” Jackson opens his mouth and then stops. Derek shakes his head. “What is it?”
“Does this mean we won’t see him on Christmas?”
Derek sighs. “He’ll probably still be contagious. But we’ll do our big family Christmas once he’s all better, okay?”
Jackson doesn’t say anything. Last Christmas was so much fun. They each opened presents with their parents but then everyone went to Meredith and Derek’s after nap. Not just them, but their own extended families too, including Archer, Megan, and Amelia. Even different people from the hospital like Ben, Miranda, Callie, and Arizona stopped by at different points. Jackson never had a family Christmas so big. Usually, the thought of such a large gathering would be overwhelming, but it was all people he was comfortable with.
Now, it’ll just be him, Addison, Mark, and Archer—fun, but not the same.
God, why does the idea of a holiday without Alex Karev depress him? Didn’t he used to hate him?
Mark and Owen enter the living room within minutes of one another. Jackson wonders how their dads may be so different and yet, somehow always act in sync. They go on either side of Derek with arms folded over their chests.
“Were they around him?” Mark asks.
Derek nods. “They snuck in the back and went up to Alex’s room while Mer was napping and I stepped away for 5 minutes to make a business call. I found them all sitting on Alex’s bed, talking.”
Owen and Mark look at their respective children. Jackson whines but doesn’t say anything. April’s pout increases.
“I can’t get…”
“April Marie, I do not want to hear that again. If I do, I will make you retake your residency exam,” Owen warns.
“You can’t do that.”
“Not for it to count, but so you can show me you understand how medicine works.”
April kicks her leg, muttering under her breath. All it takes is one firm look from her dad to make her straighten up a bit.
“Alex needs all the rest he can get right now,” Mark says. “He can’t hang out.”
“Technically all he’s doing is hanging out,” Jackson mumbles. His dad raises a brow and Jackson slouches down. “Fine.”
“I understand that you two miss him, but we told you that you couldn’t come here for a reason. We don’t want you getting sick.”
Jackson wants to once again remind everyone that he’s already had it, but that doesn’t seem to be doing much. Instead, he just hugs his arms to his stomach.
Mark looks at Derek. “I’m sorry about all this. We probably should’ve thought about ways to prevent them from sneaking over here.”
“It’s not a big deal. I’m more worried about them than I am Alex. He loved having visitors.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Got Mer currently trying to stop him from itching.”
Mark nods sympathetically while Owen shrugs. “You’ve got to get the mittens.”
“He freaks out and refuses to wear them. We’re going to try again later.”
Owen looks like he wants to say something, but doesn’t. Similarly, Jackson recognizes the looks on Mark and Derek’s faces, almost tempting him into disagreeing with their parenting tactics. Instead, Owen turns back to April and holds out his hand.
“Let’s go. Apologize to your uncle, please.”
April sighs, pulling herself up from the couch and taking her dad’s hand. “I’m sorry, Uncle Derek.”
“You’re forgiven, April. I’ll see you later, alright? I love you.”
April nods, mumbling an “I love you” of her own. The pout is still on her face as she leaves the house with her dad. Mark nods at Jackson, who also gets up from the couch.
“I’m sorry, too,” Jackson mumbles. Even though he doesn’t entirely feel sorry about trying to visit his cousin. Alex would’ve done the same for him.
“I’m not sure how much you mean that,” Derek says. “But when the time comes that you are, I will. You know we just want you to be healthy and safe, right?”
“Yeah.” He pauses. “Can I call Alex later?”
“Alex needs his rest,” Mark repeats. “And you, are going to spend some time thinking about why we don’t sneak over to sick people’s houses.”
Jackson sighs. “I drove over here.”
“Well, considering you’re not going to drive for a little while, I think your car can stay here.”
“I’ll take the key so I can put it in the second garage,” Derek says.
“You mean prison,” Jackson mumbles.
Still, knowing better than to argue further with his dad and uncle, he removes the key from the chain in his pocket and puts it in Derek’s palm. His uncle kisses the top of his head.
“Love you, kid.”
“Love you too,” he mumbles.
Mark keeps a firm hand on his shoulder as he guides him out of the house.
“Do we have to tell Mom?” Jackson asks as he climbs into the Jag.
“Your uncle texted the group chat on this one. And even if he hadn’t…” Mark starts the car. “I still would’ve told her,” Jackson growls a little. “What were you thinking?”
“That I wanted to see my cousin and warn him about not scratching. I told him I’m not surgically removing any scars he gets.”
Mark snorts. “That’s really all you said, huh?
“Yup.” He looks down at his shoes. “He doesn’t seem like Alex right now. He’s just…pouty and miserable and not even joking around like usual.”
“He’s sick, bubs. The chickenpox doesn’t just give you itchy skin. It makes you lethargic and you have a headache, plus a fever. You should know this, given how much you talk about having it as a kid.”
“I honestly don’t remember much of it. I don’t think I had that bad a case,” Jackson says with a small shrug. “But I was pretty little.”
“Lucky you. I was 8 when I got them and I still remember the torture. Mama Shepherd made all of us wear oven mitts.”
“You and Uncle Derek had it at the same time?”
“Us, plus Nancy and Amelia. But Amelia was too little to actually remember what happened, like you. We caught it from Kathleen and Lizzie at a Chickenpox Party.”
“I can’t believe those were ever a thing.”
“We know now why they shouldn’t exist.” Mark pauses. “Isn’t what you did akin to one?”
“I already had it!” Jackson whines. “And April claims she’s immune.” He pauses. “I probably shouldn’t have let her come.”
“Even if you refused to bring her, she probably would’ve shown up anyway. You’re not responsible for her, Jack.”
“If she gets sick, I’ll still feel bad.”
“Again, she made her own choices. Just like you did.”
“So, I’m not in trouble?”
“I think no car for 2 weeks and an essay on why we don’t sneak into sick people’s homes should do the trick, by hand.” Jackson groans. Mark shakes his head. “You’ll live, Ducky.”
Jackson pokes out his tongue and leans back against the seat.
“You know, you used to tell me to be nice to Alex. Now, I am, and I get in trouble for it.”
“I also tell you to be nice to yourself,” Mark reminds him.
Jackson doesn’t have an answer for that one.
When he awakes 3 days later, Jackson itches his stomach again. He just put on some lotion last night, and he’s done a good job of wearing enough layers to protect his skin from the winter air. Has that really not been enough? Ever since last night, his stomach’s been bothering him nonstop.
He walks over to the full-length mirror and strips off his shirt. Clusters of blister-looking marks have taken over his stomach, chest, and arms. At a closer look, he’s got some on his face as well. Jackson quickly takes off his sweats, his eyes widening at the sight below him.
“No, no, no, no,” he mumbles under his breath. “This isn’t…it can’t…”
He dashes to the nightstand where his phone is and quickly scrolls through his contacts. Jackson hasn’t spoken to Catherine in a few months. Their relationship is naturally compromised given he allowed Addison and Mark to adopt him. To this day, Catherine hasn’t been able to accept that he’s a Little. Jackson isn’t even sure how much he considers her to be his mother anymore. Addison is his mom. She’s been there. She takes care of him, accepts him, loves him, even when he’s done something stupid.
There’s been no dramatic cutting off. Jackson has told Catherine the ball’s in her court. If she wants to be in his life, she needs to be accepting. So, she doesn’t call. She doesn’t write. She sent him a gift on his birthday but that’s about it.
Still, she’s the only one who could give him answers right now.
“Jackson, is everything alright?” Catherine asks as soon as she answers the phone.
He doesn’t have time for small talk, so he cuts to the point. “I had chickenpox right?”
“Excuse me?”
“When I was 5. I had chickenpox, right?”
“Why are you calling me to ask this?”
“Can you please just answer the question? There’s no way I can get it, right? I already had it. I just need you to confirm that.”
There’s a beat of silence. For a minute, Jackson wonders if she’s going to snap at him for talking to her like that. Instead, she maintains her level of chipperness.
“No.”
Jackson blinks. “No?” He goes back to itching his stomach.
“You were so young when Robert left. You kept asking why he wasn’t coming, so I’d come up with excuses. One weekend, you had some dry skin, so I told you…”
“That I had chickenpox and that’s why he couldn’t get me,” Jackson finishes, the memory hitting him hard.
He had been itchy, extremely so. It didn’t seem too much different from the other items he had an eczema flare-up, but his mommy, the only constant he had in his life, insisted it was chickenpox.
“I did what I had to do to keep you happy,” she says.
“You lied to me.” Jackson groans as he itches harder. “You could’ve made up any other illness, but you chose that one!”
“Jackson, if you called just to yell at me…”
“I don’t know why I called!” Jackson snaps. “Every time I talk to you, I just end up pissed off!”
“Well, then you don’t have to bother calling me ever again.”
The line goes dead. Jackson tosses his phone on the bed and groans. There’s a knock at the door.
“Jack? Baby?” Addison’s voice carries through. “Are you okay?”
Jackson wants to lie. Give himself some time to hide this. Maybe he can hole away in his room for a few days until all of this clears up.
Except, he’s itchy and his head is starting to hurt. Catherine didn’t even try to connect that he was sick. Addison is going to worry if he pushes her away.
He wants his mommy. His real mommy.
“Mommy,” he whimpers.
Addison comes in immediately. She sees Jackson scratching his stomach and arms, frowning.
“Oh, Lovebug,” she whispers, coming closer.
“Catherine lied,” Jackson whines. “She told me I had it as a kid as an excuse as to why Robert didn’t pick me up for the weekend.”
“What?”
“That’s what she said. She lied. Again. And now I’m covered with these stupid spots! Make it go away, Mommy!”
Jackson doesn’t care how he sounds right now. Addison pulls him in for a big hug and presses a kiss to the top of his head. Jackson buries his head in her chest.
“I’m sorry this is happening, baby. She shouldn’t have done that. That wasn’t fair.”
“Wouldn’t have gone to see Lex,” Jackson mumbles.
“I know. I know.” She rubs his back, soothing the itchy sensation that comes from there. “Oh, my poor baby.”
Hot tears form in Jackson’s eyes. He can’t be sick, he doesn’t want to be. Especially not at Christmas.
“It’s so itchy, Mommy,” Jackson whines.
“I bet. C’mon, Mommy’s going to get you into an oatmeal bath. Then we’ll get you in some nice, comfy jammies.”
“Daddy?”
“Daddy went to the store to get some milk. I’m going to text him a list of other stuff to pick up.”
Jackson nods but doesn’t let go of Addison.
“You’re gonna get sick,” he whispers.
“I already had them, so the odds of me getting it again are slim. But, I’m also your mom. Catching sickness from your baby is kind of in the job description. Besides, I’m not leaving you alone right now.”
Jackson nods, allowing Addison to scoop him up and bring him into the kitchen. He hooks an arm around her neck and lays his burning forehead on her shoulder. His free hand goes back down to his tummy to scratch but she quickly shoos it away. Jackson whines.
“You don’t want to scab up that tummy,” she gently warns before grabbing the oatmeal from the cabinet.
“It’s soooo itchy, Mommy.”
“I know it must be,” Addison coos sympathetically. “But hopefully, this will make you feel a little better until Daddy can get you the lotion.”
“Want Daddy now,” Jackson whines.
“He’ll be back soon. Trust me, I think he’ll want to give his poor, sweet baby lots of cuddles.”
Mark gets Addison’s texts before he reaches the store. With each Siri notification, he feels another bit of anger and protection rise up inside of him.
Of course, Catherine would lie. Why would she be honest with her son? After all, she’s proven time and time again that she expects him to do the moral and right thing while she and Harper Avery cover up every bit of imperfections in their family. It makes all the sense in the world why she’d let her son think he had a very contagious virus already, meaning that he could potentially contract it down the line.
Jackson’s immune system is weaker due to being a Little. But then, Catherine would have to acknowledge he was one actually to care about that.
Mark shakes it all off as he heads into the store. He heads for the pharmacy area and grabs some Tylenol (for the fever) and Zyrtec (for the itching). He goes to the medicated cream aisle where he finds a familiar redhead comparing calamine lotion. Owen has dark bags under his eyes and wears sweatpants, a rarity for him in public. Mark frowns.
“Don’t tell me…”
Owen looks up and nods. “April woke up in the middle of the night crying that her body felt like it was in flames. Turns out…chickenpox.” He holds up his basket, filled with other medications, Pedialyte, and oatmeal. His eyes flicker to Mark’s cart. “And…”
“I was on my way here for milk when Addison texted me the oh-so-happy news that Jackson has spots. Apparently, Catherine lied to him about having it years ago.”
Owen furrows his brows. “Why would she do that?”
“Why does Catherine Fox do a lot of things? She’s…Catherine Fox.” Mark clicks his tongue.
“You know, there are times I’m not exactly happy with Karen but then I remember that Catherine exists and realize that maybe April didn’t have it so bad.”
Mark nods then frowns. “Wait. If you’re here, where’s April? You didn’t leave her alone, did you?”
“No. My mom came into town last night before the upset. She sent me to the store because apparently, I was hovering too much.”
Mark smirks. There are very few people that Owen Hunt can be bested by. Of course, his own mother would be one. However, Mark is happy that Derek opted not to tell Carolyn about Alex being sick. There’s no doubt that she’d freak and fly out. Let alone if she knew that both boys were unwell now…they’d never hear the end of it. Somehow it’d be their fault. As if they could’ve prevented chickenpox from ending up at SGMW anyway.
“Kicked out by your mommy. Harsh,” Mark quips.
Owen rolls his eyes. “In a way, I’m glad she’s here to help. Megan can’t come over. We don’t want Farouk to catch this. Especially with his heart condition. April feels so bad that she’s sick, she keeps apologizing for sneaking to Alex.”
“To be fair, the kids were right that they were around him the day he was diagnosed. And April was helping treat Patient Zero in the ER.”
“All of which I told her. Even if she did catch it from sneaking over there, it’s hard to say “I told you so” when your kid is crying and looks so pitiful.”
Mark‘s frown returns. “I haven’t even seen Jack yet. I’m sure he’s a wreck.”
“I’ll let you go then. Text me later, let me know how he’s doing.”
“I will. Keep us in the loop about April. And good luck, man.”
“Thanks. I think I’ll need it.”
Owen holds out one of the giant bottles of calamine lotion. Mark accepts it and grabs another, just to be safe.
Mark only puts the perishable groceries away before dashing to the master bedroom with some of the other bags. Jackson lays on the bed, wearing a pair of Barney footie pajamas with the well-loved Yankees hoodie over it. He’s sucking on a Scooby Doo pacifier while cuddling his stuffies with one arm. His free hand goes to itch his leg but Addison quickly redirects him. Jackson lets out the most pitiful whine.
“Mommy.”
“No scratching, baby. Just rubbing.” She rubs the spot, but Jackson doesn’t look pleased.
Mark takes in the spots that align his face alone. He hasn’t seen too many cases of chickenpox in recent years, but this has to be one of the worst.
“Oh, my poor Ducky.”
Jackson looks up and instantly starts crying. “Daddy.”
Mark drops the bags at the foot of the bed and climbs in beside him. He cuddles Jackson as close as possible and presses tiny kisses to his face.
“Shhh, I’m here. Daddy’s here.”
“Itchy, Daddy,” Jackson whines, dropping his pacifier. “Mama no let me itch.”
“I know you’re itchy, but Mama is right to stay no.” Jackson sniffles, looking extra betrayed. “You’ll feel much better if you don’t scratch.”
“No lie. That naughty.”
“I’m not lying, Ducky. I had chickenpox too,” Mark explains. “And Granny Shepherd didn’t let me itch either. It helped me feel better sooner.”
It certainly didn’t feel that way at the time, but he’s not about to tell his son that.
Jackson just whines again. Mark tries to keep a smile on his face. “Alright, little man. I got you some lotion. That should help you feel better soon.”
“Took oatmeals bath,” Jackson says. “No eat it, though.”
Mark glances at his wife, who nods. “I told him I’ll make him some that he can eat. But he’s saying he’s not hungry.”
“One thing at a time. I’m gonna take your jammies off, JackJack.”
ageMark frowns when Jackson’s body is on display. His skin is covered in spots, the ones on his tummy very red, likely due to all the itching. Jackson starts on his neck, but Addison gently bats them away. Mark reaches into the bag from the Little shop next to the market that he ducked into. Normally, Jackson isn’t the type to wear mittens or booties. His little age is too old for that. Still, Mark had a feeling they’d be needed now.
“Look, Ducky. These are shaped like duckies!” He holds up a pair. Jackson eyes them suspiciously. “Can we try them out?”
Mark starts to put one on Jackson’s left hand, but his son instantly bursts out into a fit of whines. He pushes them off and tries to roll away from Mark. Addison catches him before he falls off the bed.
“No! No!” Jackson balls up his fist. “No yike that! No!”
“Hey, hey,” Addison rubs his back. “It’s okay. You don’t have to wear them.”
Guilt crashes into Mark. He knows his son is very finicky about being “trapped” with clothes. He’s okay with footie pajamas, but his hands must always be free. Getting him to wear winter mittens is a challenge. He has to have gloves. Mark felt like it was worth a shot.
“I’m sorry, Ducky,” Mark says, setting the mittens back in the bag. “They’re all gone, see? No more.”
Jackson cuddles closer to Addison, sticking his thumb in his mouth. She quickly replaces it with his pacifier. Jackson clings to her hoodie and looks at Mark with the deepest level of betrayal. Mark holds up his hands.
“No mittens, they’re all gone. I’ll bring them back to the store. I’m sorry, Ducky. I just don’t want you scratching.”
“No mit’ens,” Jackson whimpers.
“No mittens,” Mark repeats. “We’ll find another way to keep you from itching. I’m sorry.”
“Not nice, Daddy.”
“You can be upset with Daddy,” Addison says. “That’s okay. But he really was just trying to help, Lovebug.”
Mark frowns, not wanting to say much more to make Jackson feel bad. He has every right to be upset right now. Already, the little boy is in so much discomfort. The last thing he needs is sensory overload.
“Daddy needs to put on your lotion,” Addison continues when neither of her boys says anything. “Can you let him do that, please? That’ll really help your skin feel better.”
Jackson eyes the bag from the Little store. “No mit’ens.”
“He won’t try to put the mittens on.”
“P’mise?”
“I promise,” Mark cuts in. “I’m just going to put on your lotion, baby. Then I have some medicine for you, but you can take that with some yummy juice. Do you want to pick the flavor? Daddy got strawberry and tropical fruit.”
Jackson’s pout is visible behind his pacifier. “Stawbewwy.”
“That’s a good choice. Can I do your lotion now?”
“No mit’ens.”
“No mittens. Look, this is your lotion.” Mark lifts out one of the bottles of calamine lotion. “Can you tell me what color it is?”
“Pwink.”
“That’s right! You’re so smart. Daddy’s going to put it on now, okay?”
“Lotion den juice?”
“Lotion then medicine then juice.”
Jackson’s pout increases, but he doesn’t make any whines of protest when Addison adjusts him so Mark can easily apply it. Mark starts with Jackson’s stomach, gently rubbing the lotion in. Jackson’s face relaxes a little.
“Feel better?” Mark asks.
Jackson nods. “Cold, good cold.”
“I’m glad. Your poor tummy seems to have gotten the worst of it.”
“Naughty chickens.”
Mark holds back a laugh as his wife covers her mouth with her hand. He shakes his head, smiling instead.
“You don’t get chickenpox from chickens, baby.”
“Uh huh, chickenpox. No more nuggies.”
“Hm. I don’t know if you’ll be saying that when you’re all better. Besides, you had tacos last night, not nuggies.”
That gets Jackson thinking. Mark continues applying the lotion, making sure to get his privates, bottom, and back as well before doing a double coat. Jackson plays with Addison’s hoodie the entire time. For someone who hates Yale when he’s big, he’s attached to that familiar piece of clothing.
Mark zips Jackson back into his pajamas once he’s finished and returns Hank and Ranger to his arms. The little boy is done sniffling by now, instead looking very tired. It’s only 9:00 AM. Usually, he doesn’t take a nap until 12:30 or 1:00, after lunch. Mark has a feeling he’ll be on a 2-nap schedule while sick.
“Okay, baby boy, I’m going to get your juice already. Why don’t you give Mommy the best snuggles while I’m gone?”
“Daddy come back?” Jackson whispers, moving his pacifier to be heard.
Mark nods, his heart feeling a little better about his son having forgiven him for the mittens incident. “Daddy will be right back. I’m going to get your juice.”
“Stawbewwy, p’ease.”
“Of course. You want Barney or Scooby baba?”
“Scooby, p’ease.”
“Right away.”
Mark is quick with fixing the bottle with Pedialyte, as well as prepping the syringes with medicine. Getting Jackson to take 2 at the same time is going to be a tall order. Mark fixes some toast with applesauce, his baby’s go-to for when he’s feeling under the weather. He sprinkles some cinnamon on the top as well before placing everything on a tray.
Back in the room, Jackson’s cuddled up with Addison as close as he can be. She’s queued up an episode of Barney but hasn’t pressed play. Mark props the legs of the tray up on the bed.
“First, the not-so-fun part.” He holds up the first syringe. Jackson makes a face and puts his hand over his pacifier. “I know, I know. It won’t be very good, but I promise it’ll be super quick. And you can take a sip of your juice in between each one.” Jackson shakes his head. “Yes, Jack Attack. You need your medicine.”
“The quicker you let Daddy feed you, the quicker you can have your juice,” Addison points out.
Jackson pouts but eventually opens his mouth for the first round of medication. Mark holds up the Tylenol.
“This is going to help your fever and headache,” he explains, injecting the syringe into his mouth. Jackson coughs a little as he swallows, taking two big sips of his juice as soon as Mark passes him the bottle. “And this will help with the itching.”
Jackson makes a face once the Zyrtec goes down and quickly washes away the taste with more juice. Mark smiles a little.
“That’s my boy.” Jackson doesn’t say anything for a minute, he focuses on chugging his bottle. “Let’s get some food in you too, okay?”
Jackson pushes the nipple away from his mouth. “More juice.”
“You can have juice once you have some toast.”
“Daddy…”
“You need to eat, Jack. It’ll help you feel better.”
“No, sit on Daddy.”
“You want to sit on Daddy’s lap?” Jackson nods, his fingers going to itch his shoulder. Addison quickly redirects. Mark smiles. “Of course. Come here, my little ducky.”
The minute Jackson settles on the bed, Jackson crawls onto his lap. Mark cuddles him close, pressing some kisses to his warm forehead. He rubs his knuckles against Jackson’s stomach, trying to soothe some of the itchiness Jackson buries his head into his shoulder, hiding his face. Mark grabs one of the pieces of toast.
“C’mon, Ducky. Just a few bites. Then we can have all the snuggles.” Jackson doesn’t look up. “Plus, you can pick whatever you want to watch on the big TV.”
Jackson just barely peeks his eyes up. “Barney? BJ mad at Baby Bop?”
Mark nods. He can’t believe he knows exactly which episode he’s requesting, but then again, they’ve seen them all at least 10 times. “Yup.”
Jackson still looks hesitant. Addison speaks up. “How about I get some babas for Hank and Ranger? That way you all can get some nummies in you.”
“Hank an’ Ranger have babas?”
“Yup.”
“‘Kay…jussa little…only if Hank an’ Ranger have their babas.”
Addison kisses his cheek and climbs out of bed to hunt down the toy bottles. Jackson doesn’t move his face until she’s propped them up against the sewed mouths of the stuffies. Mark manages to feed him 2 strips of the toast, feeling at least a little triumphant.
“You look like crap,” Archer says as Addison opens the door.
She glares at her brother through her glasses and folds her arms over her chest. Her hoodie is stained with calamine lotion, chicken noodle soup, and some juice Jackson spit up after drinking too fast.
“Merry Christmas Eve to you too,” she grumbles.
“I take it things aren’t going well here?” Archer asks as he steps inside, holding something behind his back, just out of Addison’s sight.
“Jack won’t wear the mittens but also just wants to scratch. He threw a tantrum when Mark tried to get him to stop earlier. Then cried himself into a nap.”
“Damn, Addie. You guys are so mean. Just let him get all scarred up.” Addison rolls her eyes off his smirk. He shakes his head. “Any sign of things getting better?”
“His fever’s broken, which is good. He’s just uncomfortable.” She sighs. “Sick on Christmas. This sucks.”
“Remember when we got double pneumonia on Christmas Eve? We were what? 8 and 10?”
“And Bizzy still made us come to the annual party.”
“Thus why I’m spending Christmas here in Seattle and not Greenwich, eh?”
Addison nods. They plan on going to Derek’s tomorrow, so long as the kids don’t have fevers and are in relatively good moods. Not for nearly as long as they usually would, just enough for the kids to see each other and exchange presents. As it is, all of their parents have been exposed. The likelihood of them getting it again is low anyway, but they wouldn’t be surprised if they at least caught the cold-like symptoms that come with this.
“What are you doing here?” Addison asks. “I thought you canceled your flight.”
“I was going to, but then I remembered that I already had chickenpox.” Archer shrugs. “Plus, I had to see my favorite nephew.”
“Your only nephew.”
“Unless you and Mark want to adopt more kids.”
“Jack’s staying an only child.”
“More gifts for him. Speaking of.”
Archer holds up the surprise behind his back. It’s one of the cardboard Build-A-Bear condos. Addison raises a brow.
“You went to Build-A-Bear?”
“My assistant did. But I told her what to get the kids.”
“Kids?”
“I sent April a Gingerbread Hello Kitty and Alex a Santa Bluey.”
Addison manages a small smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“The 3 of them can’t do anything separately. Jackson told me that they all get gifts in threes. I can’t go against that, can I? Besides, as you said, they’re my only chance at spoiling kids. Can I see my nephew now?”
“Yes. Just prepared, he’s a little grumpy.”
“Grumpy? Not my Jack Attack.”
Addison shakes her head and leads him to the bedroom. If this were her mother, she’d apologize for the mess. There are dirty cups all over both nightstands and dirty laundry piled up everywhere. Archer, however, doesn’t take a second look to any of that and instead walks over to the bed where Jackson’s currently cuddled up with Mark. The little boy’s alternated “Mommy Days” and “Daddy Days” since the spots appeared. Today is a “Daddy Day”, as was the one the day before. Mark is passed out with a half-awake Jackson on his lap. Archer takes in his brother-in-law and snorts.
“He’s looking good.”
“Jack won’t let go of him,” Addison whispers.
“That’s nothing new.”
“You want to take care of a sick kid?”
Jackson blinks a few times, his pacifier falling out as he talks. “Mommy?” He asks sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
Addison raises her voice a little. “Hey, baby. I’m right here.” She walks closer to the bed and kisses his forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Itchy…”
He frowns down at his hands. The mittens are still a no-go but Addison overnighted footie pajamas with sleeves that fold over the hands. They give Jackson more room and aren’t as suffocating, but also prevent him from scratching. The current pair have a cartoon version of Buddy the Elf sprinkled all over them.
“‘Tupid hands,” Jackson grumbles.
“Your hands aren’t stupid.”
Jackson holds up his arm. “Can’t itch.”
“Yes, because we don’t want you getting any boo-boos.” Jackson glowers at her. “Hey, we have a special visitor.”
She points at Archer. Jackson’s eyes light up and yet, a simultaneous pout takes full effect.
“Uncle Archie, Mommy no let me scratch!”
Archer gasps. “She won’t? Well, that’s not very nice of her!” Mark groans, his eyes blinking a bit. “Morning, gorgeous.”
“Go away,” Mark mutters, moving his head to the pillow.
Jackson pulls on his shirt. “Daddy! Uncle Archie here!”
“I know, JackJack, I know.” Mark kisses his head, reluctantly looking back at his brother-in-law. “I didn’t think he was coming.”
“Well, I’m full of surprises. Including an early Christmas gift for JackJack.”
Archer settles the cardboard condo on the bed. Jackson’s pout disappears and a smile comes in it’s place.
“Buildy Bear!” He goes to open the box but can’t with the fold-over pajamas. “Daddy, help, p’ease.”
Mark grabs his mug of (now cold) coffee and takes a sip before moving to help Jackson. He opens the condo and lifts out the plushie inside: a Tartan cow with plaid inside his ears and on the soles of his feet. He’s dressed in pajamas and a hat in the same red and green plaid. Jackson beams.
“A cow. Moooo.” He hugs it tight. “T’ank you, Archie.”
“You’re welcome, bub.” Archer smiles. “But, there’s something special about this cow.” Jackson looks at him curiously. “You can’t see it, but he has chickenpox too. His are invisible.”
“Why he gets invis-da-bul spots?”
“Because his fur covers them up. Kind of like why you can’t see the ones on your head.” Jackson nods. Addison studies her brother, wondering where he’s going with this. “But also, chickenpox is different for cows. They can scratch, because of their fur. Or, they could, but they can’t exactly scratch with their hooves. So, they need help. Think you can do it?”
Jackson nods. “I help!”
“Okay, good. I thought you might. But, it’s very important that you only scratch him, okay? Not yourself. Whenever you feel itchy, just start scratching your cow. You promise?”
“I p’omise, Uncle Archie.” Jackson looks at Mark. “Free hands, Dada?”
Mark smiles. “Sure, Ducky.”
The minute his hands are free, Jackson starts scratching the cow’s soft fur. Archer watches on with approval. Addison looks her brother up and down.
“How’d you come up with that?” She whispers.
Archer shrugs, speaking out of the corner of his lips, a perfected Forbes Montgomery trait. “Nanny of the Week whenever I had it as a kid. My teddy bear just so happened to have it too.”
Addison grins. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.” She pauses. “Wait, why didn’t you tell me this when I had it?”
“Because you’re my sister and it was fun watching you suffer.”
Addison’s smile fades and she scoffs, pinching the top of his ear. Archer bites back a yelp. Jackson is too caught up in scratching his cow to notice their nonsence. Mark looks between the two of them and shakes his head.
“I thought we just had one child here,” he mutters.
“As if you’d be any better if Derek was here,” Archer fires back, settling on the edge of the bed.
Jackson looks up. “Uncle Der here?”
“No, baby,” Mark says, clearing his throat. “We’re going to see him tomrorrow.”
“And Lex? And Apes? And Auntie Mer? And Uncle Owen?”
“All of them,” he promises.
Jackson pauses. “Santa still come?”
“Santa is definitely coming tonight. He just has to wrap the last few gifts.”
Addison and Mark exchange a look as Jackson goes back to the cow. They keep saying one of them will go down and wrap the rest of the gifts but then Jackson gets clingy or they have an online consult or they just end up falling asleep. They can save the ones for Jackson’s older space as he probably won’t come out of being Little until he’s better, but there’s still quite a few left for the younger space. Addison and Mark kept adding to the pile throughout the past couple of months, not thinking much of it. Until now.
“I think Santa has an elf that can help,” Archer speaks up.
Mark tilts his head. “What?”
“I can stay and help for a bit while one of you go tell the elves how to wrap.”
“You don’t have to…” Addison starts.
Archer cuts her off with a shake of his head. “I don’t mind, Addie. Really. I’d offer to…supervise the wrapping, but I’m sure you have a system.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t allow me to supervise,” Mark quips.
Addison rolls her eyes. “Are you sure, Archer?”
“Go. I can babysit the kid, and catch up with my favorite current brother-in-law.”
“I’ve been your brother-in-law for a couple of years,” Mark points out.
Archer shrugs, nudging his sister. “Go.”
Addison kisses his cheek. “Thank you.” She looks over at Jackson. “JackJack, Mommy will be right back, okay? You make sure your uncle does’t get into any trouble.”
Jackson goes to itch himself but under Archer’s watchful eye, he scratches the cow’s tummy. “In charge?”
“Daddy’s in charge. But you can be in charge of Archer.”
That makes her son the happiest he’s been since the spots appeared.
“I itch Lex,” Jackson whispers. “Apes itch me.”
“Who’s gonna itch me?” April practically whines.
Jackson holds a finger over his lips, tossing a look over his shoulder. The grown-ups are sitting on the couches a bit aways, drinking their grown-up juices and talking. He’s gathered with his cousins on the floor. They have their stuffies from Archer in front of them. He sent letters with Alex and April’s, telling them the same thing about them helping them feel better. They’ve sat there doing there for a few minutes, but it’s not working. What their parents don’t know won’t hurt.
“Take turns,” Jackson says once he’s certain they’re not listening. Alex rests his head on his cousin’s shoulder, itching his cheek. “No, Lexy. No scratchin’. I do. Then you itch Apes.”
Alex nods. “‘Kay, JackJack. My face itchy.”
“An’ my tummy,” Jackson tells April.
“Make it all better,” she promises.
After getting one last look, the kids get to work. Jackson tries to be as gentle as possible when itching Alex’s face. April accidentally pokes him in the belly. Jackson shrieks then clasps his hand over his mouth. April and Alex giggle too before she goes back to itching Jackson.
A familiar throat clears behind them. “Just what are you 3 doing?”
Alex pouts when he looks up and sees Meredith standing there. “Itchy, Mommy!”
“You know you’re not supposed to scratch.”
“Not itchin’! JackJack do it!”
“Helpin Lex,” Jackson explains. “And Apes helps me…den we help Apes.”
A small smile goes across Meredith’s lips. For a minute, Jackson thinks they’ll get away with it. Instead, she reaches down and pulls over the sleeves on each of their matching Rudolph pajamas.
Jackson whines. “Auntie Mer!”
“As sweet as it is that you three want to help each other, that’s still not allowed.”
“What exactly is going on over here?” Derek asks, walking over with Addison, Owen and Mark.
“The kids thought they found a loophole. They were itching each other.”
Owen tilts his head. “April Marie.”
“I’m helping, Daddy!” She whimpers. “You say helping’s important!”
“It is important to help other people, with good things. Not itching your cousins.”
“The three of you need to keep your hands to yourself,” Addison chimes in, bending down to pick up her son. Derek does the same with Alex, while Owen scoops up April. “Or, you’ll be separated.”
“Nuh uh,” Alex argues with a bigger pout than before. “Chrit-mas. Family.”
He looks annoyed when all the adults “aw” and Derek kisses his cheek. Jackson nods sympathetically. They’re not being silly! It’s serious!
“Christmas is for family,” Derek says. “But it’s also for being safe and healthy. Which means no itching.”
“How about we watch a movie?” Mark suggests. “It’ll keep you all occupied.”
“Sit together?” Jackson asks. “With Apes and Lex?”
“Yes, as long as you all keep your sleeves down.”
“No biting them off,” Meredith gently chastises her son, taking his now wet sleeve from his mouth. Alex pokes out his tongue only to pout again off her serious look.
“Which movie do you three want?” Mark asks.
“
Elf
!” Jackson says excitedly.
April and Alex quickly forget about their own gripes with not being able to itch, loudly agreeing. Meredith and Addison groan, muttering something about “20 times”, but still ultimately agree. The kids are settled back ont the floor, Owen draping a blanket around them. Their myriad of stuffies, including brand new polka dot elephants from Rudolph sent by Amelia, are deposited on their laps. The kids can’t move their hands as well anymore, but still snuggle as close as possible. Alex nestles his head on Jackson’s shoulder.
“Sow’ee, JackJack, sow’ee, Apes,” he says.
Jackson tilts his head. “Alex no naughty.”
“Gaves you spots.”
“S’okay, Lexy,” April says, rubbing his back. “JackJack and I wanted to see you.”
“Uh huh,” Jackson agrees. “Our fault. Not Baby Lex’s.”
“Still cousins?” Alex asks, looking between them with big eyes.
Jackson nods. “Uh huh. Always.”
Alex beams. He wraps his arms tightly around his older cousin. Jackson usually isn’t one for cuddles, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he rests his chin on Alex’s head. April snuggles on the other side of Alex. The three of them don’t even make it to when Buddy leaves for New York to meet his other daddy. The sounds of Christmas music plus being huddled up together helps them get the best sleep they’ve had since they got sick.