Dead sick, p.1
Dead Sick, page 1

DEAD SICK
by
Pandora Pine
Dead Sick
Copyright © Pandora Pine 2025
All Rights Reserved
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.
First Digital Edition: January 2025
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1
Ronan
Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here
“Achoo!” Ronan O’Mara sneezed into the crook of his elbow. His nose tingled and the back of his throat was scratchy. The symptoms had come on after lunch the day before. Ronan hoped he was just worn out, but he was really beginning to feel like he was coming down with a cold. January colds were the absolute worst. He should have stayed in Florida where the temps were in the mid-seventies today, instead of Massachusetts where the mercury had dipped below zero.
“Ew! Bless you,” Everly said, easing off the sofa. She grabbed the box of tissues on the coffee table and handed them to her father.
“Thanks.” He grabbed a tissue just in time for the next sneeze.
“Ronan! Are you sick?” Ten asked as he rushed into the living room.
“No. I’m fine. Just an allergy. Probably from shoveling snow yesterday.” His nose tickled and before he could stop it, he sneezed again.
Everly backed away from Ronan. “Daddy, can I go to Woofie’s house? I don’t want to stay here with Dad and his goo.”
“My goo?” Ronan asked. He tried to laugh at his daughter, but started coughing instead. It was a deep rumble, which instantly made Ronan worry. He usually got a runny nose when he finished shoveling snow, but he’d never had a cough, and this was definitely a cough and a chunky one at that.
“You’re all drippy and icky.” Everly shook her head and ran toward the kitchen.
Ronan ordinarily would have chased after her and tickled her, but he didn’t have the energy to get up, never mind run. He nodded miserably. There was no doubt about it. Ronan was sick.
“Hey, Cope,” Ten said, with his phone on speaker. “Everly wants to know if she can come over to play with Wolf?”
A loud hacking sound came through the phone followed by two quick sneezes. “That’s not really the best idea today. Jude’s coming down with something and I don’t want to expose Everly to his creeping crud.”
“Crud?” an outraged-sounding Jude shouted. “It’s all his fault!”
“My fault?” Ronan shouted, his voice breaking. “What the hell did I do?” He sank his head into his hands. Yelling hurt.
“You’re the one who gave me the plague!” Jude moaned before he started coughing again.
“Are you feeling sick too?” Ten asked.
“No, I’m okay, so far. Same for Wolf and Lizbet,” Cope sounded relieved.
“That’s good. I’ll call Fitz and see how things are over there.”
“Hold on, Fitz is calling me. I’ll put you on three-way,” Cope said. “Which button do I press?”
“First time we have a three-way and I feel like I got run over by a dump truck. Figures,” Ronan grumped.
“Hey, Cope!” Fitz said, and sneezed. “Can you watch Aurora? I feel like shit and Jace won’t be home for a few hours.”
“No can do,” Cope said. “Jude’s sick too.”
“Same with Ronan,” Ten said.
“Good! It’s Ronan’s fault anyway,” Fitz muttered.
Too exhausted to fight, Ronan gasped. If his so-called friends wanted to blame him, they could, but he remembered Fitz sneezing first. That was his story and he was sticking to it.
“I’ve got an idea,” Ten said, taking a step back from Ronan, who was coughing again. “Why don’t we come stay at Cope’s house while Fitz, Jude, and Ronan stay here?
“Sold!” Cope said. “I’ll disinfect everything Jude touched. Tonight we’ll call out for Thai food and we’ll watch a family movie.”
“What about me?” Ronan asked, sounding absolutely miserable. “Who’s gonna make me soup and rub Vicks on my chest?” As much as he hated to admit it, Ronan knew he sounded absolutely pitiful.
“We’ll order you some soup and have it delivered by a man in a hazmat suit.” Ten snorted. He tried and failed to cover it with a cough. “As for the Vicks, I’m sure Jude can do it for you.”
Ronan’s mouth fell open. “What?” He could hear Jude bellow through the phone, sounding equally indignant.
“Look,” Cope said. “It’s been a crazy new year already. Why don’t the three of you sack out at Ronan’s. You can watch movies and help each other through this. I think we can all agree that the last thing any of us wants is for the kids to get sick, right?”
“Right,” Jude muttered.
“Yeah,” Ronan agreed.
“You’re all big boys,” Ten said, sounding dubious. “Take care of each other and we’ll see where things stand in the morning.”
Jude muttered something almost unintelligible, but sounded a lot like “Get fucked.”
“Think of it as a slumber party for adults. You’ll have yummy food, snacks, movies, and the company of your best friends.” Ten smiled brightly.
Ronan grimaced. “Adult slumber parties involve naked revelry and lots of lube.”
“To each their own!” Cope chirped. “I’ll pack a bottle in Jude’s bag.”
Jude roared, sounding a lot like a caged lion in the zoo.
“I’ll send him over in half an hour with snacks.” Cope sounded hopeful. “Text me in a bit to put in your request for medicines and we’ll drop off what you need.”
“Along with more snacks,” Ten added. “It will be fun. You’ll see.” If Ten’s smile was anymore forced, he was going to end up cracking teeth.
“Yeah, I’ll see all right.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Ronan pouted.
“With three cold case detectives under one roof, what could possibly go wrong?” Cope asked.
Only everything. Groaning, Ronan sank his head into his hands. It was going to be a long night.
2
Jude
FML…
Jude was going to die, and it would be all Ronan’s fault. He, Ronan, and Fitz had spent the entire day on Friday in their office above West Side Magick reading case files and trying to decide which would be the next unsolved murder to investigate. All the while, Ronan had been sniveling and sneezing with no regard for his or Fitz’s safety.
Saturdays were Jude’s favorite day of the week. He and Wolf got up early to have breakfast together at Dunkin’s. Jude loved the glazed donuts, while Wolf went for the chocolate crullers, or crawlers, as Wolfie called them. After they’d eaten, Jude would grab a chocolate chip muffin for Cope and a few munchkins for his own munchkin, Lizbet.
After breakfast, father and son would have a snowball fight and talk about their week after the match was won. It never failed to surprise Jude how much Wolf’s advice helped him in his life, especially when dealing with people who aggravated him. At the moment, Ronan was at the top of the list. It was all his fault that Jude and Wolf had to cancel their long-standing breakfast ritual.
“Okay,” Cope said, coming down the stairs with Jude’s large rolling suitcase. “You’re all packed and ready to go!”
“You said it was only for one night! It looks like you’ve got enough packed in there for a month!” Jude had a bad feeling about this. The idea of being away from his family, even from across the street, was hard to take. He couldn’t remember the last time he and Cope hadn’t slept in the same bed.
“I put your pillow and favorite blanket in there. That’s why the suitcase looks so full.” Cope patted Jude’s shoulder, before wiping his now contaminated hand on his flannel sleep pants.
“Bye, Daddy!” Wolf said from the couch. His eyes didn’t leave the television screen.
“Da! Da!” Lizbet shouted before turning back to the movie she and Wolf were watching.
“Okay, out you go.” Cope opened the front door, but stood back from it.
“No one loves me.” Jude’s usual plays for sympathy were all in good fun. This was an actual cry for help.
“Don’t you think you’re being just a touch dramatic?” Cope asked, biting his bottom lip.
“No, I don’t. You and Ten are going to have a marvelous time with your wine and Thai food and snacks. Meanwhile, I’ll be stuck with Ronan who snores like a freight train and Fitz, who…who?” There had to be something annoying about Fitzgibbon. “He’s too damn happy. See!” Jude pointed down the street where Fitz and Aurora were skipping and singing. “Seriously, you want me to spend the weekend with Gene Frickin’ Kelly?”
Cope laughed. “It’s going to be fine. I promise. Think of it this way. You’ll all be able to get some rest without the kids jumping on you or talking too loudly or having a tantrum over something. We’ll make sure to send over food and other comfort items.”
“Okay, I’m going.” Jude picked up his suitcase and headed out the door, meeting Fitz and Aurora on the sidewalk.
“Bye, sickos!” Aurora said with a quick wave before dashing up the steps and into the house with her suitcase.
“Did your daughter just call us sickos?” Jude asked, then sneezed.
“I tried to explain it to her, but…” Fit z shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s get to Ronan’s and find out what’s what.” Grabbing the handle of his suitcase, Fitz looked both ways and crossed the street.
Jude followed behind him. Maybe Cope was right, and this was for the best. Ronan and Fitz couldn’t be that annoying for twenty-four hours straight, could they?
“Hey, guys!” Ten said. He stood at the foot of his stoop. “You ready for the sleepover?” His voice was so cheerful that Jude wanted to throw up.
“Yeah.” Jude coughed into his elbow as Everly came out the front door dragging her suitcase behind her. In her free arm was a stuffed unicorn with a purple mane.
“You look terrible, Uncle Jude.” Everly smiled up at him.
“Gee, thanks.” Jude tried not to take Everly’s words to heart, but it didn’t work. First he was kicked out of his house, not kissed goodbye, practically ignored by his kids, and insulted by his favorite nieces. So far the sleepover was going swimmingly.
“You’re gonna be okay. I promise.” Everly patted Jude’s arm and taking Ezra’s hand, hurried to catch up with Ten. “Dad’s got barf buckets for everyone. In different colors!”
“Barf buckets?” Jude asked, feeling his stomach lurch. He turned to Fitzgibbon who looked equally as nauseated.
“If you need anything, we’re just a phone call away.” Ten hurried across the street. A huge cheer went up when Wolf opened the door to greet Everly.
“You see that?” Jude muttered miserably. Wolf was happy to see his friend, but barely said goodbye to his father. If this kept up, Jude would be bawling by lunchtime. He wasn’t built for being sick.
“Let’s get into the house. I’m dying out here.” Fitzgibbon hoofed it up the stairs with his suitcase and his pillow tucked under one arm.
With he and Fitz tugging suitcases around it looked like they’d both been kicked out of their houses by angry husbands. If Jude weren’t so sick, this situation would be hilarious. “We’re here,” Jude said, closing the door behind him.
“Come in and make yourselves comfortable.” Ronan gestured to the recliner and the other end of the sectional. “I think there’s room for all of us. Jude, you can sleep in Ezra’s bed and Fitz, you can sleep in Everly’s. Ten changed the sheets to something less girlie, but you’re still stuck with unicorns and princesses.”
Nodding Fitz left his suitcase by the stairs and took the recliner. He leaned back and brought up the leg rest. “That’s better. Jude, since you’re up, can you make me a cup of tea?”
“Me too,” Ronan added. “Peppermint.”
It’s too bad there wasn’t any hemlock or belladonna around. He’d make his friends a cup of tea no one would forget. “Do I look like your personal butler?”
“A little around the eyes.” Ronan laughed, with Fitz joining in until they both started to cough.
“How do you like them apples?” Jude muttered to himself and headed into the kitchen. Thankfully the kettle was hot. Ten must have turned it on before he left with Everly. He quickly made three cups and brought them into the living room.
“What, no snacks?” Ronan asked.
Jude shot him an angry look. It wasn’t going to take much more of Ronan’s bullshit before he lost his temper.
Thankfully, Ronan’s phone rang, which distracted him from asking any more stupid questions about snacks, although, come to think of it, Jude was feeling a bit snackish.
Jude opened his suitcase to pull out his pillow. A piece of paper fluttered down to the floor. Wolf had drawn their family in the backyard. Everyone was smiling and the sun was shining. “Feel better, Daddy!” was written in Cope’s handwriting. Wolf had signed his name in pencil and there was a squiggle from Lizbet in purple crayon. The note from his family gave him the strength to carry on. “The kids made this.” He handed the note to Ronan.
“That’s so cute.” Ronan coughed on the drawing before handing it back to Jude.
“Ew.” Jude set the now germy drawing on the coffee table and picked up his tea. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Ronan and Fitz were his best friends, like Cope pointed out. They worked some of the most grueling cold cases together and always had each other’s backs. Surely they could get through twenty-four hours quarantining together.
“Ten wants to know what meds we want,” Ronan droned, his nose dripping. He reached for a tissue and pulled the last one from the box. “We need more tissues for a start.”
“Nyquil. The good stuff. I don’t want that wimpy daytime shit!” Fitz called out.
“Same,” Jude said. “But I want my own bottle, not one that Ronan slurped out of.”
“Just for that, I’m slurping out of every bottle that comes into this house.” Ronan shot Jude a so-there look.
“Get some cough drops too. The kind with the yodelers blowing big horns. I don’t want to listen to Ronan and Jude hacking all night,” Fitz said and started coughing.
“Says the man who’s hacking.” Jude rolled his eyes. “Send popsicles too. The little rocket pops with red, white and blue flavors.”
“I want grape pops,” Fitz said.
“Cherry for me,” Ronan added. “And ginger ale!”
“Okay guys,” Ten said. “We’ll swing by with your supplies and lunch from the Thai place. There’s plenty of food in the house in the meantime. You’re not in danger of starving.”
“Bye, Ten,” Ronan said and hung up the phone. “Well, we’re on our own for now. I’m starving, who’s gonna make me a sandwich.”
“Not it!” Jude and Fitz said at the same time.
Ronan sighed and got off the sofa. “Just for that, I’m not going to tell you where I hide the good candy!”
“You mean the stuff you keep in the R2D2 cookie jar in the pantry?” Jude asked. He’d known about Ronan’s secret hiding spot for years and had a feeling Everly did too.
Taking another sip from his tea, Jude laid back on his pillow and reached for the remote. He pulled up Jurassic Park and sighed happily. Maybe this would work out. Cope was right, it was only one overnight with Fitz and Ronan. It wasn’t like they hadn’t slept together before. On vacations and various stakeouts.
How hard could this be?
3
Ronan
Curses, Foiled Yet Again
In Ronan’s relatively short time on this earth, he’d never once thought about killing another human being. Sure, he’d had the odd thought from time to time wishing explosive diarrhea on people who’d wronged him or an hour of aggressive hiccups on the cashier at Macy’s who’d told him he was too old to wear turquoise, but aside from that, he’d never once considered hurting another person.
Until today.
Tennyson had been true to his word, dropping off the various meds and comfort items the three detectives requested, and had even included some little extras like Ronan’s peanut butter cups. Sour Patch Kids for Jude and food magazines for Fitz. The sweet and sour soup from the Thai place was just what the doctor ordered, along with plenty of crunchy spring rolls and crab Rangoon.
“What the hell is this?” Ronan asked in his froggy-sounding voice. He’d just come out of the bathroom after lunch to see Jude and Fitz sitting at the kitchen table chowing down on his beloved peanut butter cups. Everyone in the O’Mara-Grimm household knew it was hands-off with the Reese’s, but apparently Jude hadn’t gotten the memo.
You think you know a person.
“What the hell is what?” Jude asked, around a mouthful of candy. Scattered around him were four empty wrappers, licked clean.
“You’re eating my peanut butter cups!” Ronan had never been more outraged in his life. Not even when Lance McTwinkleToes told him turquoise was for young gays.
“Ohhh, those are my favorite,” Fitzgibbon said, grabbing another snack. He sat in Everly’s usual seat and ate the cup in one bite. “Mmmm, heaven.”
Ronan sputtered. “Those are mine.”
“What’s yours?” Fitzgibbon asked, reaching for a second treat.
Ronan couldn’t be sure, but thought he saw a gleam in Cap’s eyes. In all the years he’d known Fitz, the man had never done anything to warrant Ronan’s suspicion of him, but when peanut butter cups were involved anything was possible.
Maybe his fever was messing with his brain. Or Fitzgibbon was messing with his emotional support candy. “The Reese’s. Ten got those for me.”












