Hey guys! This is for someone whose birthday is today...and I put together for "Anon"! :) HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANON! Please Enjoy this (possible) two-shot I'd like to call, "Help Me to Help You...

Twitter: TheCliffyG

No Beta Reader, so ignore mistakes if any :)

Rated T for: Cursing/Sexual Jokes/

Help Me to Help You




An annoying, continuous ringing echoed through the young girls ears as she buried her head deeper in the pillow beneath her, hoping it would stop. Unfortunately, the longer she let it ring, the louder the volume increased.

Sighing in defeat, she flipped open her phone, lying it against her ear lazily, "Hello?"

"Oh thank goodness! Clare, it's Cece-I need a favor of you! Are you busy today?" Clare forced her eyelids open to glance over at her clock, which read 'Saturday, April 20th, 8:18AM'.

"Um, no I'm not," Clare tossed her blankets to the side, sitting up tiredly in her bed, letting her legs dangle to the floor. "Is everything alright? What's going on?"

Not that she minded being called by her boyfriends mother; it's just that she would've liked a fair warning and a little time to get ready.

"Actually, no it's not. Bullfrog is down at the radio station all day and I have to visit Eli's grandmother for our monthly visit. I know this is a lot to ask of you, but-."

Clare laughed lowly at Cece's nervous tone, cutting her off politely, "What is it Cece? Just spit it out!"

"You see, last night Eli came down with something. He hasn't been feeling well for the last couple of days, and he was greeted with a nice kick from the chickenpox monster."

"So that's why he has been keeping his distance from me, because he didn't want me to get sick?" Clare accidently asked aloud.

"Most likely, honey. He thought he'd get better, but looks like he has only gotten worse. The blisters are more red and irritated, but he finally fell asleep after spending the night by the toilet. Unfortunately, the stomach bug can really get you with the chicken pox. The only reason he's been throwing up is because I fed him that stupid soup last night because he hasn't eaten in three days," Cece sighed out, showing her evident worry tone through the phone. "But anyways, how soon can you get over here?"

Eli has been there for Clare through everything; Asher, Mike Dallas, and even fighting her own personal demons along the way. Taking care of him while he was sick was the least she could do.

"Give me twenty minutes, I'll try to rush."


"Oh Clare!" The moment I walked into the Goldsworthy residence, Cece wrapped her arms around me, giving me a tight squeeze. "I'm so happy you came! Now, Eli is sleeping, and if he wakes up all cranky because I didn't tell him you were coming tell him I'll be back as soon as I can. All the medicine is sitting on Eli's table in his room. Plus, try to convince him that taking a bath might help him with the itching. The ride to Grammy is about two hours, and sometimes that woman doesn't stop talking so I'll be home around dinner time. Is that alright?"

"It's not a problem. Take your time, have fun. I can handle Eli." She smiled, patting my curls, "This means the world to me Clare, you have no idea. This is a really big help."

"Thank you again!" She called out, hiking her bag over her shoulder and locking the door behind her.

My eyes scanned the kitchen, to the living room, and up the stairs.

Since Cece said Eli was sleeping, I wouldn't want to wake him up. But then again, I had to take care of him, and make sure he was okay. I grinned effortlessly, looking at the pictures of Eli as a baby hanging up on the walls.

I slipped off my shoes before his door, not wanting my small heel to wake him up.

I bit back my bottom lip, slowly turning the doorknob to the right. The door creaked slightly when being opened, and when I closed it. The stupid 'click' noise echoed the quiet room. I silently prayed, hoping Eli didn't wake up.

To my relief, he was still sleeping.

A smile curled up on my lips, looking at the two shark oven mitts covering his hands. His eyelids looked heavy, practically weighing down the features of his face. The blisters covered areas of his face and arms. Since I couldn't see his legs, being that he had his skinny jeans still on, I wasn't sure if the chickenpox had spread there as well.


My eyes widened, watching Eli slowly flutter his eyelids open, "Staring at me, Edwards?"

"You wish. How're you feeling? Do you need anything...or do you want to go back to sleep? I can get you water, or-," he cut me off, trying to readjust in the bed. "Slow down, and I'll let you know if I need anything. Don't think I didn't know you were coming, I heard Cece proclaiming her thankfulness and love for you downstairs."

"I'm glad I could help. I thought you were ignoring me because you didn't want to talk or I did something wrong," I mumbled, rolling his computer chair aside his bed.

"I didn't want to get you sick, Clare. And besides, Cece took my phone away when I was starting to get sick so my phone isn't covered in the germs. I didn't want you to come over today because you'll get this too. But no one listens to the sick guy," he scoffed, shutting his eyes briefly.

"Where do you think you got it from?" I asked curiously, as he brought his hand down to his leg, scratching furiously over the thick cloth of the jean.

Instead of answering me, he ignored me, muttering curse words.

"Fucking bitch," he grunted underneath his breath, trying not to let me hear it since he hated using fowl language around me. I watched him claw at his jeans, and I suggested, "You know, itching it will only make it worse. Maybe you should take those off. I read online before I left that-."

He scoffed, resting his head against the pillow, "Only you would look up information on chickenpox."

"I did it for you, because I care and I want you to get better," I encouraged, grabbing a pillow that fell onto the floor. I cautiously touched the back of his head, pushing it up a bit to place the pillow beneath it so his stuffy nose could go away. You could hear the nasal tone from a mile away; that's how bad it is.

"I'm guessing you wouldn't let Cece or Bullfrog help you get better?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"I don't like anyone seeing me like this. And for your information, no, I didn't let them help me. Cece comes in every now and then to give me soup, but besides that, no." I sighed, raking my fingers through my hair in frustration.

"Will you let me take care of you?" I asked nervously, looking into his tired green eyes. "Please Eli, let me help you."

"...Alright," I was holding back the squeal inside me, "On one condition Edwards."


"Put a pair of oven mitts on downstairs. I don't want you getting this shit too."


"Fucking pants," I muttered, rubbing my thigh angrily.

"That's it, I'm done watching you scratch yourself. Take your pants off," Clare ordered, and I laughed, "Trying to get me naked, Edwards? Pretty good plan you got there, I must say."

"Seriously Eli, the cloth will only irritate your skin. You really should only being wearing loose clothes, if anything. You'll be surprised how the itchy tension will go down a bit," Clare stared at me, waiting for me to remove my skinny jeans.

"These are my babies, I can't take them off." Clare glared at me; something she has rarely did, only when she was getting angry with me. I sighed, "Alright alright, I'll take them off. But I need help getting up. My legs feel like itchy jello."

Clare cautiously moved behind me, linking her oven mitts underneath my armpits, assisting me to my wobbly feet.

"Do you want me to take them off?" She asked, already pulling at my chained belt. Her fingers moved quickly, and before I knew it my shaky legs were bare before Clare. She blushed, as I kicked the jeans away from my bed.

Without even asking, she tugged at the hem of my shirt, and threw it over my head. She glanced down at my chest briefly, before swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Does that feel better?" I didn't want to admit it, but the relief from the tight fabric was beyond amazing.

Reluctantly, I responded softly, "I feel like my legs can breathe. Excuse my boxers, I didn't know you were coming over."

"Skulls are cute, don't worry," she assured, pulling me towards the bathroom. "What are you doing? I want to go back to my bed..." I longed for the feeling of my back against my mattress, and my throbbing head against my soft pillow.

"While you're up, I figured you could take a quick bath." The blood rushed to my cheeks, and as if the burning fever wasn't enough to make me dizzy, I lost my footing with Clare's fast paced rhythm, and nearly toppled her over.

"Sorry, sorry," I muttered, and she laughed, "It's fine, don't worry. Here, sit on the toilet."

She put the lid down, and guided me to the seat. I gripped onto her forearms tightly with my covered hands. My eyelids clenched shut, a wave of nausea coming over me.

"C-Clare," I choked out as she was filling up the bathtub, not paying any attention to me.

I was too slow to turn my body and get down on my knees; resulting in last nights chicken noodle soup making a show for the third time. My lips quivered, and my stomach churned once again, noticing the vomit had covered Clare's bare feet.

Hot tears streamed down my face from embarrassment, and instead of Clare screaming at me, or becoming irritated, I felt her hand on my back, rubbing it soothingly.

"I-It's alright Eli, you couldn't help it. It's fine," she comforted calmly, gripping my shoulders to maneuver me in front of the toilet. She opened the lid, and I rested my head against the toilet.

The cold touch against my hot face cooled down the dizzy feeling, but my stomach was still whooshing in discomfort.

"I-It's coming up again," I warned, and Clare nodded, tracing her mitt over my back. "It's okay, let it out Eli."

My body jerked up, the bile creeping up my mouth in an instant, spilling into the toilet.

"There ya' go Eli, there you go. It's alright, you're doing fine, you're okay," the shakes had ever-so-kindly came over my body, sending a chill up my spine. My eyelids drooped in exhaustion, "Let's get you cleaned up. I know you're tired, you can fall asleep. We just have to get you washed."

I nodded, clenching my eyebrows tightly together, just agreeing with her for the sake of not having another argument over me being too stubborn.

"D-Do you want to keep your boxers on?" she asked with a clear stutter, and I nodded, responding weakly, "You got my pants off and you want to see my junk all in one day? Clara Edwin makes a second appearance."

"Shut up and get in the water," Clare teased, helping me lift my leg over into the water.

"It's not hot enough," I whined, always having been a big fan of steaming hot baths. They would always either put me to sleep, or relax my muscles. Either way, I'd be happy after it.

"It's lukewarm Eli. You can't have a hot bath or the heat will make you itch," I rolled my eyes, resting my back against the bathtub. Clare grabbed a towel on the rack in my bathroom, and wiped her feet of the contents of my stomach.

"I'm really sorry about that. I wish I could've stopped it," I whispered dryly, resting my head against the top of the tub while letting the water relieve the need to scratch until I see my bones.

"It's fine, really. My boyfriend getting his vomit all over me is kind of romantic...in a weird way," she concluded, watching my every move. I flinched, feeling an itch in a place that couldn't be scratched around Clare.

I bit back my bottom lip roughly, breaking the skin.

"Let me get a rag and I'll wet you down," she mumbled, rummaging through the small towels in the spare cabinet above the bathtub. In a matter of second Clare was dipping the white rag into the water, and then pressing it to my back. .

A moan slipped through my lips, feeling the water slide down my back.

"You like that?" I nodded gratefully, not trusting my voice.

Each light squeeze from her tiny fists dripped the water down my back, soothing the irritating feeling to claw at my skin. I stared down her soft, smooth looking skin without any bumps on it, and tears formed in my eyes, wishing that was what I looked like right now.

"Hey, what's wrong? Am I hurting you?" Clare asked softly, stopping her motions.

"N-No, no it's fine. I'm just-just frustrated. Everything is so itchy," I groaned, leaning my back against the edge, resting my arms. Clare smiled towards me, "You know you'll get better Eli, this won't stay on your skin like this forever."

"I know I know, I'm just impatient and frustrated," I admitted, closing my eyes to try and relax.

"Keep your eyes closed, and let me do the rest..."

This time; I didn't object.

"Hi Bullfrog," I greeted Eli's father, who threw his keys on the table, and turned to me with open arms. "Clarabelle! Cece told me you'd be here! How're you doing?"

He wrapped his arms around me, giving me a tight embrace; boy does this family love to hug.

I gestured to my mitts, and laughed, "It's been a long day, but not that bad. Um, actually, I heard you come in and wondered if you could help me out."

"What's the little pain in my ass up to now?" he joked, and I sighed in defeat, "He kind of...sort of...fell asleep in the bath. I was washing his back, and then his chest. Before I knew it, he wasn't responding to me and I realized he fell asleep. I tried to lift him up, but it's kind of hard on my own."

"When that kid sleeps he's like a ton of freaking bricks! I'll help you, let me just get a pair of gloves on or something; that kid is sick as a dog and I have work tomorrow morning again," Bullfrog rummaged through the drawers, before pulling out another pair of oven mitts.

"Okay seriously? How many oven mitts do you guys have?" I asked, teasing Bullfrog.

He snorted, "Remember when Eli cooked you that six month anniversary meal?"

I smiled, blushing at the memory, "...Yes."

"Well, he insisted on cooking on his own so he can prove himself to you-and let me tell ya', the kid burned four pairs of oven mitts in the process. Needless to say, Cece bought a whole box of em' after that incident just incase the sucker wants to cook for you again," I laughed, shaking my head.

"You do know that he only made me mac-n-cheese with chicken nuggets that night because I told him I didn't want anything special?" I asked Bullfrog, and he nodded, "Mac-n-cheese and chicken nuggets is far too much for a kid who sits in front of the television with that game boy kid all day."

We both joined into a small fit of laughter, before making our way up the steps and into Eli's bathroom.

"Look at that little fucker," Bullfrog muttered, and I had to bite my tongue to hold back the obnoxious chuckle that was about to explode.

"I'll get the right side since he's heavier on that side," Bullfrog instructed, and I looked his way confusingly."He's my kid, holding him on my hip for nearly seven years can give you that advantage."

My feet swiftly traveled to the left side, and on the count of three, we lifted Eli out of the tub. It was much easier with another person pulling half of his weight. Even though he wasn't heavy, he was still a growing boy, which made the slightly toned muscles heavier than I thought.

We placed Eli over his bed, and I took the liberty in stripping the bed, washing the sheets, his pillowcase and blanket while he was sleeping. Bullfrog sniffed around him, and laughed, "You cleaned his sheets?"

I nodded, "I had nothing to do...and besides, they smelt a little vile."

"He probably thew up in those sheets and laid in it. He's a sick fucker sometimes," Bullfrog joked, patting my shoulder before walking out of the room. "Oh and Clarabelle, I'm ordering a pizza for dinner, you're welcome to stay. Would you like to stay?"

Pizza didn't sound so bad after a long day.

"Yes, sure, thank you." I smiled kindly, before turning to Eli. His boxers were soaked, and since the air conditioner was on full blast in his room, there's a possibility that he can get even more sick.

I grabbed a dry towel from the bathroom, before hesitantly wrapping it around his waist and tucking it beneath him. He squirmed, groaning out loud, "Trying to feel me up in my sleep, eh?"

"Sorry," I apologized, "I just don't want you to get sicker."

"I actually feel a bit better...hey wait, I didn't fall asleep here-did I? Wasn't I in the bathroom?" I scoffed, "Funny story...you fell asleep in the bathtub when I was cleaning you."

"Oh shit, I'm sorry Clare-," I cut him off, "Don't worry, your dad helped me carry you to the bed."

A comforting silence filled the air, and I closed my eyelids for a moment, enjoying the darkness behind them.

"I-I'm really sorry about making you spend your Saturday with me," he began, "I wouldn't want to spend a day taking care of an itchy, vomiting, sickly, tired guy. You probably wanted to finish that series you were reading today, weren't you?"

"Plans change, and I'm glad they did. Spending the day with you was fun, I missed you," I spoke truthfully, resting my head against my palm. He smirked, "I missed you too...you have no idea how much I wanted to kiss you all day today."

He groaned, trying to lean up. I placed my clothed hand on his shoulder, "Easy there, you have to rest."

"One kiss?" he begged tiredly, the nasal tone had disappeared over his rest in the bathroom.

"Once you're better, I'll shower you with kisses my big boy," I convinced him, and when his lip turned into a pout, I placed my mitt over his. He glanced up at me, and I asked, "In sickness and in health, right?"


I might do a Chapter 2 where Clare has the chickenpox, what do you think? One-Shot or Two-Shot?

Review please! Feedback from you guys can only help :)

Love you guys,

Cliffhanger Girl