Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ A Nurse's Goggles ❯ The Doctor Who Makes House Calls ( Chapter 1 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Disclaimer: Digimon: Digital Monsters is copyrighted by Akiyoshi Hongo and produced by Toei Animation, Bandai, and Disney. I only own the plot, and no profit is being distributed in any way through this fanfic.

Author's Note: I actually wrote this fanfic a while ago, but I really didn't like how it was presented, so I never uploaded it. But I liked the idea way too much for it to go to waste, so I decided to rewrite it, and here's the first chapter of my rewrite. I hope you enjoy it.

~~~~~

A Nurse's Goggles

The Doctor Who Makes House Calls

Well, how about this? I'm in a world of fun. Literally. School's out. Snow's falling. And the wind's whipping up a storm. My, look at all the kids! They're all happy and easygoing, like they have no care in the world.

In fact, I don't have a care in the world, either—

“A-Ahhh-CHOOOO!”

—For a while.

“Gesundheit,” says DemiVeemon from nearby.

“Thanks,” I respond weakly.

…You know something? This is great. Just great. No school. Mom and Dad're gone till Christmas morning. And I can sleep late as much as I want (if I can)… But for some odd reason…I'm stuck in bed…sick from a cold.

Yes, a cold. A stupid cold!

Heh. Ironic, ain't it? Here I am: Mister Davis Motomiya, the one who never backs down to a challenge, has to give in to a stinking cold! I have no choice but to lie down on my bed all day, slurp up June's “Jewish Penicillin,” toy with my D-Terminal, and sleep early! Even with my comp out, I wouldn't be able to relax in the Digital World, anyway—

Hey, what's this? An e-mail sent to my D-Terminal. Hmm… Interesting. Ah, it's from Kari. I wonder… Oh, well. Might as well look at it.

Dear Davis:

June just told me about your cold, and I'm very sorry about it. I hope you get better soon so you and your family are able to have a magnificent Christmas together.

Take care!

Best wishes: Kari Kamiya.

“Ah-CHOO!”

Sniff. “Stupid cold,” I mutter.

“Gesundheit,” says DemiVeemon again.

Sniff-Sniff.

“Thanks,” I say and sigh. “Of all the times to catch a cold, why does it have to be 'round Christmas?”

DemiVeemon climbs off his miniature bed nearby and hops onto my bed. “Does this mean you're becoming a grinch?”

I chuckle. “Tryin' ta cheer me up, huh?”

“Why can't I? I hate seeing you like this,” says DemiVeemon. “Now, cheer up.”

“Easy for you t'say, DemiVeemon,” I reply groggily. “You're not si— Ah-Ah-Ah-CHOO!”

I hear a plop of the floor.

Sniff. “'Scuse me.”

DemiVeemon climbs back on my bed again. The poor guy - having to endure the brunt of my cold at the worst time of the year! Yet, he sacrifices his health for my sake…trying to be on my side.

“Try to rest, Davis,” he coos and pets my head. “You need it badly.”

I sigh. DemiVeemon's a great friend. Always will be.

“Thanks…” I say. I definitely need to sleep…but my body's awake. “Should I get something first?”

“If you think so,” says DemiVeemon, voice doubtful.

Even with the uncertainty, he knows me well. If I must get something, then I will.

Well, off I go. Ugh! If I can…sit up…

There. Much better.

Now, if only June doesn't mind… I hope she doesn't; heck have no fury like an overprotective sister scorned, after all.

Wait. That doesn't sound right. I know it sounds wrong…but it fits for some reason. Oh, well. Just get a snack and drink and be on your way, Davis.

Hey, would-ja look at this?

June's on the couch, notepad in hand…

“Perfect,” I think out loud with a snicker and approach the kitchen.

“And just what do you think you're doing, young man?”

Me and my big mouth.

“I'm just getting a snack, June. What-ja expect me to do, run outside and make myself sicker?” I reply, irritated.

“Sheesh, you didn't have to snap, Davis. So what snack are you having?”

“Some milk and cookies,” I reply. “I haven't eaten something other than your chicken soup in days.”

For some reason, my sister notices my pink eyes.

“You haven't slept like I told you, haven't you?”

“How could I, June?” I say and take out milk and cookies from the fridge. “I was tossing and turning for an hour before deciding to stay up, play with my D-Terminal, and e-mail my friends.”

“Oh, really?” She eyes me peculiarly. “Since when?”

“Don't know. A couple of hours, I think,” I say uncertainly.

“Well, you only get `a couple of hours,' young man,” warns June and points at me like a mother to her son.

“Aw, come on!” I plead.

“Ya want some of that `Jewish penicillin' as your meal, then, Davis?”

“Heck, no!”

“Then go to bed.”

“Can't I just have my sna-ah-ah-AH-CHOO!”

Thankfully, I cover my mouth just in time.

“No, Davis,” says June sternly. “Mama and Papa have put me in charge of your health till you get better, and as your older sister, I'll do whatever it takes to protect you.”

“Well, what about DemiVeemon?” I protest. “He protects me, too.”

“Well, him, too.”

Sounds like you forgot my darn Digimon partner, didn't you, June? I'm DigiDestined, for heaven's sake! Hello? Digivice? A saver of both Digital and Real Worlds? Can't remember, can you?

Pah. Insults aren't worth my time.

“Pleeeease? Can I?”

June groans.

“All right, you may,” she replies in defeat.

“YES!”

“But you're having fruit and milk as your snack instead.”

Scoff. “Thanks a lot.”

“You're welcome,” she replies sassily.

She places the cookies back in the fridge (“Grr…”) and makes a salad of cantaloupe and kiwi for me in a ceramic bowl. The milk stays, though.

As expected: “Once you're done, get—to—bed.”

“Ya didn't have to say it like that,” I reply.

Well, at least there's a compromise, and I won't need to have chicken soup…for once.

Now I need to get this darn tray back to my room before I sneeze again…

Ah, yes. I did it. I'm back in my messy bedroom. The tray's safe, and the food's all right.

“I smell food, Davis!” says DemiVeemon giddily, jumping on his mini-bed.

“Yep,” I say, semi-discouraged. “Fruit and milk.”

“Huh? No chocolate chip cookies?”

I shake my head. “June won't allow me. Not till I'm better.”

DemiVeemon snaps his fingers (how does he do that, anyhow?). “Shoot. I was hoping for some.”

I sit on my bed, and DemiVeemon climbs on with me. “Davis, you think she'll let me have some?”

“I don't know, DemiVeemon,” reply I. “But I don't think she will.”

And I blow my nose to prove why (and to also stop a drip in my sore nose).

DemiVeemon sighs sadly. There ain't as close an edible connection to DemiVeemon as his love for chocolate chip cookies… It's a pity, too, as now he's forced to stay away from them. Darn it, June. Why can't you allow us any desert other than fruit and vegetables? Is it because there's a “lack of nutrition” in 'em? Is that true? Why can't you be a little looser - like me - and allow me to have cookies so DemiVeemon can have them, too?

No?

Well…if you say so… Then that leaves me one choice.

“DemiVeemon, I'm getting you cookies,” I say determinedly.

DemiVeemon's ears point up. “Y-Y-You mean it?”

“Hey, what're friends for?” I reply and wink.

“YAY!” He jumps and down, screaming from joy. “WE'RE HAVIN—”

“Shh!” I cover his mouth and hiss, “Quiet, DemiVeemon! Ya want June punish us further?”

DemiVeemon shakes his head violently.

“Good. Now, c'mon,” I tell him, and we sneak back to the door.

I touch the knob and slowly turn it. The moment I swing it open, I peak down the hallway and kitchen.

No June.

“Coast is clear,” I say.

We creep into the kitchen, and I quietly open the fridge.

Yes! The cookies are still here!

“Time to feast!” I exclaim.

“YAAAAYYY!!”

I laugh from his cheer. Cute fellow, isn't he?

I grab two plates and place six cookies on each. (Eating them whole from the bag doesn't count. Just the ones on the plate.) Then, after tying up the bag and putting it back in the fridge, we run back in my room.

…What? I may be sick, but I can't let my cookies go! Especially if DemiVeemon wants them, too!

But, where's June? Why isn't she home?

Hopefully, I'll find out tomorrow.

~~~~~

Ooh, my. The food really settles in my stomach.

Six cookies, fruit salad (yes, I ate it: I can't let it spoil!), and milk. Not a very good combination at all! Now I can't get out of bed. At least I slept soundly. Heck, I didn't cough or sneeze all night, but sadly, I needed a couple of tissues to stop the drizzle of bogies from coming out of my nose—

Speaking of the time, I need to check the alarm clock. Now, if…I…can…

Ohhhhhhh. Talk about being stuffed. Now I know how DemiVeemon feels after eating two gallons of ice cream in a sitting last week. Or, better yet, after watching those two crazy goofballs - you know, Scooby and Shaggy from the “Scooby-Doo” cartoons every Saturday morning - gorge a whole buffet table full of six-foot-long sandwiches with habanero peppers as a garnish.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Davis, you awake?”

I groan, “Yes, June,” while trying to sit up.

She ain't gonna like this at all.

The door opens, and she gasps the second her head pops in.

“Davis Motomiya, what's the meaning of this?!”

I hiccup. “What?”

“This!” I see her point at the tray on the floor, which has several plates full of cookie crumbs and the glass once containing the milk. “You've been eating cookies, haven't you?”

“So what?”

“So what?!” she thunders. “Davis Motomiya, you wanna get better, or d'ya wanna get more ill?”

I groan and, with a struggle, sit up. “Hey, I ate the fruit, too, if you're worried 'bout that,” I add.

“That doesn't make a difference, Davis,” says June and points her finger at me. “You need nutrition, and cookies don't have that, so you're not supposed to have cookies until you get better. Understand?”

Sigh. “Why can't I have fun for once?”

“Heh. Lemme tell you, little brother. Being one of your caretakers and your older sister ain't no walk in the park, either.”

“Or so it seems,” I correct with a sly grin.

June places her hands on her hips. “Now, what's that supposed to mean?”

“Why did-ja sneak outta the house after you forced me back to my room, then?”

“Wha—? I thought you were asleep. Besides, I wasn't going to a party. I was only gone for an hour.”

“Why `only' an hour?”

“Simple. Because I can,” states June matter-of-factly.

I roll my eyes.

“I saw that, Davis Motomiya!” she scolds, and I jump slightly.

“Ow!” I dig a finger into my ear. “You didn't have ta yell at me.”

“Well, then, next time think about what you do before acting.”

Hmph! Like she actually needs to give me these so-called “words of encouragement.” Me? Need to think? Ha! Yeah, right! Not while constantly thinking about being sick!

“But first things first…”

Groaning, I follow her to the bathroom, where she directs me to take a bath. Heh. What does she think I'm gonna do, stink up the house? Well…heh-heh-heh… Sometimes, I wish not to bathe, but then, I'd hear tenants call about someone owning a skunk in their apartment. Ha-ha-ha-ha…! Such fun raising a devil in the Motomiya household, isn't it?

Sigh. Then again, a bath isn't gonna hurt me. After all, it opens the nasal passages, doesn't it?

Well, off I go.

“NO PEAKING!”

I hear June harrumph. “Like I want to,” she replies.

Good. At least she respects my privacy.

~~~~~

After a long bath, I dry up and change into my new clothes, which are red. A red shirt and red pants - hmm…not a bad combo. Not as interesting as orange and blue, but it'll do.

Now, to go back outside and check the time…

It's nine-thirty A.M.

And I slept at eight-thirty P.M.… So, combine it to the time I woke up and my bathtime…

Wow… That's odd.

I slept nearly twelve hours—

Now I better have breakfast. I just hope it isn't what I think it is.

Well…why am I not surprised? On the table is a ceramic bowl with milk, orange juice, and a box of whole grain cereal— Good heavens! Either she's really protective and wants me to get well if it's the last thing she'll ever do, or she's a crazy health nut…'cause she's becoming a bit extreme to getting me well.

Wait a sec. That's not extreme. Not even close! I've seen extreme! Like that time last year where that insane Digimon doctor concocted a special potion to heal a stinking paper cut on Mimi's thumb! And she never requested it to start with!

Bah. I'm going off-tangent.

“Like the setup, Davis?” asks June proudly.

“I must admit, it's kinda nice…and simple,” I reply.

“Well, ya gotta start off nicely…especially when caring for your little sick brother,” says June sappily.

She may be treating me like a kid, I think with a chuckle, but sometimes, that isn't a bad thing. I only hope she doesn't go too far.

“I could've done this myself, ya know,” I tell her.

“And miss the opportunity of taking care of you? Forget it!”

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

“I'll get it!” says June and skips a little to the door.

That's funny. No, not the skip, the knock on the door. Mom and Dad aren't supposed to be back home till Christmas morning… And I didn't plan to have a visitor, either—

“Hey, wait a second!”

Too late: The door opens.

On the other side is a woman. She's about the same height as June, but her gloveless hands tell me her skin's darker. Covering her body is a thick coat, which is supported by a beige belt, and peaking out of her hood is a speck of red hair.

I'm confused. Who is—?

Hang on!

Red hair…

No freaking way!

“Sora?!”

I take a lot of my inner-strength to not cough and throw up.

Indeed, it is Sora, only with a newer hairdo and taller. Her hair reaches halfway down her back, and her bang extends diagonally down the left side of her forehead. When she approaches me, I notice she has a slender physique, too, especially now with her fluffy coat off.

“Hello, Davis,” she greets me kindly. “Doing well?”

Mouth covered, I sneeze hard. “I think that answers your question,” I reply. “So what're ya doing here?”

“June asked me last night if I can help her take care of you until you get better,” replies Sora.

“Last night?” I puzzle and look at my sister, who's standing beside her. “I don't remember you telling her.”

“I made the arrangements,” replies June.

“That still doesn't make any sense, June,” I say and scratch my head, before… “Hey, wait a sec! Did you call her while you were outside last night?”

They - yes, they - shake their heads.

“Correction, little brother,” replies June. “I went to her home last night.”

There goes my cold…for now.

“So that's why you were gone for an hour!” I exclaim.

“That's right, Davis,” says June and looks at her with a grin.

I remain speechless as I drink my orange juice—

Ugh! Great. Now my stomach's not feeling good again. June's great in helping me out…but that might've been a little bit too m—

“Ah-Ah-AHHHH-CHOOOOO!!”

The orange juice flies out from my glass and onto my face.

“Bless you,” Sora says.

Sniff, I go as I reach for a tissue. “Sorry, Sora,” I say and blow my nose. Gosh, why must I make a mess of myself now? And after I just got myself cleaned up? Looks like another bath for me, I think.

I don't know if I actually see this, but I think I notice Sora shaking her head with a solemn look on her face.

“Poor thing,” I hear the DigiDestined of Love say sadly. When I close my eyes to wipe my face with a napkin, I hear her whisper, “How long has he been sick, June?”

“Don't know,” replies June. “Three days, perhaps.”

I sigh and think, Darn it! Why must I be sick? Why can't I be like my sis, Sora, and the others and be better again? And not in about three days from now, either?!

Wait. What's that red plump bag doing here near the coffee table? Hold up! That's Sora's bag. I think I know what's in there…but I wanna make sure.

“Sora,” I tell her, and she turns to me, “what's in your bag?”

Sora looks down and tells me the expected: medical supplies. Thermometer, cough medicine, et cetera. But still, Sora doesn't need that mu—

“Ah-AH-CHOOOO!!”

Sniff.

“Bless you,” says Sora again.

Thank goodness, no orange juice flies out this time.

“Thanks,” I tell her with a stuffy voice and blow my nose.

Forget about the plump bag. I need to finish my meal…

Good, I'm done. Off to the tub I go…

But why is Sora here? Why did June make her my doctor when June can do so by herself?

Something's up.

~~~~~

Author's Note: You know, when writing a character's voice, sometimes you write another character's by accident. That's what I did with my narrative here. I wasn't writing Davis; I was writing Rika. My first-person narrative included a lot of sarcasm in the first draft of my rewrite. And as I read it aloud about four days ago, it didn't feel like Davis's voice at all; he may be sarcastic at times, but it's occasional, while Rika's is persistent (in my point of view). Therefore, this chapter went through yet another extensive edit to make Davis's narrative voice more consistent. I wonder if anyone had the annoyance to write in another character's voice by accident. I know I did.

Anyway, now that my little "rant" is over, I hope you enjoyed reading the first chapter of "A Nurse's Goggles." Until then, I hope to see you again soon (I hope)!