Chris is almost 7 and Martin is 10. :)

It was the last day of March and it was a Saturday, so we kids had the day off of school. Christine and Susan had helped mom and dad in the morning while Chris and I cleaned our room and now after lunch, we switched.

Ew. Cleaning. But at least my job was somewhat easy. I was dusting. I was surprised how much dust could pile up in just one house. Cleaning wasn't my favorite thing, but seeing the dust go away made me feel good, even if it made me cough a lot. Chris was helping mom sort books in the library.

I was in the living room when I heard a door open. I turned around and saw Chris appear from the library.

"Mom and I finished the books," Chris said. "I'm bored."

I sighed.

"I'm almost done," I said, coughing from speaking. "We can play then."

Chris groaned but went to sit on the couch. I had run out of paper towels, so I started to go to the kitchen. I went back, and Chris ran past me with the duster, going to the sliding door that led outside. I coughed as the dust flew in my face, and ran out after him.

"Give that back!" I shouted after my brother, coughing again. After a lap or two around the yard, I stopped to catch my breath. I looked at Chris and gave him a look to say that I wasn't done and would chase him again in a minute. But something happened. I couldn't get my breath. I continued to gasp and cough, trying to breathe normally again. What was happening? Why did it feel like my lungs got tiny? I started feeling dizzy as I panicked. I stared at a point on the ground to keep from falling. I heard Chris say something and after a while, I heard my mom speak.

Before I knew it, I was in the car.

By the time we got to the doctor, I felt better. My chest hurt a little, but I could breathe okay.

I breathed in some medicine in the back and the nurse looked at her clipboard.

"It looks like the dust and running around triggered an asthma attack," the nurse said.

Mom looked at me with a weird sort of sadness in her eyes.

"Have you had trouble breathing before, Martin?" I shook my head, not really wanting to talk.

"Do you play sports?" the nurse asked. I nodded.

"Soccer," I said flatly.

"No symptoms there?"

I shrugged. I got breathless sometimes, sure, but I didn't think it was any worse than other kids who played sports.

"Now that you mention it, Martin does cough sometimes after practice," mom said, shaking her head. "I should have known."

"It's alright, Mrs. Kratt. It sounds like Martin didn't give you a whole lot of reason to worry. Like many things in life, asthma symptoms lie on a spectrum. Martin might not need medicine daily. But for now, I'll prescribe an emergency inhaler as well as medicine for the long term. We'll check up on him in a month."

When we were back home, dad, Christine, Susan, and Chris were in the living room. Mom told me to go upstairs to rest in my room. I took out my sketch pad. After a few minutes, Chris came into the room.

"Are you okay, Martin?" he asked. Sometimes, when people ask you that, they don't really want to know. But Chris seemed like he cared.

"I am now," I said.

"I thought you were dying," Chris said. "I was so scared."

"I was, too. But the doctor gave me these things," I said pointing to the papers on the ground. "Asthma is kinda cool," I admitted.

"Did they cure you?"

"Well, no. You can't cure asthma. But you can control it. I have this cool inhaler. See? I have this one for emergencies and that one over there is to stop emergencies from happening."

"It's blue!" Chris shouted.

"Yup. My favorite color."

"But you're really okay?" Chris asked.

"Yeah. Because of you. You got mom, didn't you?" Chris nodded proudly.

"You needed me," he said.

I looked at Chris. I was always told to be there for Chris. My sisters, too. I never thought that there would be times I would need their help. I wrinkled my nose at this discovery. I didn't like needing people. But then I remembered how Chris remained calm when I was having the asthma attack.

"Guess I did," I said.

"You'll tell me when you need me, right? If you can?"

"I'll try," I promised.

True, I was the older one. But there would be times I'd need my kid bro, too.

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor or an asthma expert. I did some googling and thought that would be enough for the purposes of a fanfic. I don't know why I thought of Martin having asthma of all things, but the mind is weird sometimes.