Sharon woke with a start late Sunday night and looked at her clock. It was 2:00, and she could hear five-year-old Rusty whimpering through the baby monitor. She had put the monitor in his room not long after she adopted him so she could hear him if he woke up at night. She waited a few moments, and when the whimpering didn't stop, Sharon got up and went to his room. The lamp on his nightstand was on, and he was standing in front of his dresser and digging through one of his drawers. She briefly wondered if he was sleepwalking, but he looked up at her when she softly called his name, and the tears increased. "Rusty! What's the matter?" She wasn't wearing her glasses, so she didn't see what the problem was at first. As she walked slowly toward him, she saw the tell-tale wet stains on the front of his pajama pants that spread down his legs, which could only mean one thing. She looked at his bed, and the darkened spot on his sheets confirmed that he'd wet the bed. Seeing that Sharon had realized what he'd done, Rusty cowered into the corner of his room beside his dresser, watching Sharon with frightened eyes.

"Uh-oh, honey, you had a little accident," Sharon said softly. She smiled at him, hoping to assure him that she wasn't angry. This was the first time Rusty had wet his bed since he started living with her, but she had expected it to happen at some point. Hell, Ricky had wet the bed off and on until he was twelve. "It's okay, honey, let's get you cleaned up and into some dry jams." Sharon said this as cheerfully as she could manage at 2:00 in the morning. She slowly approached Rusty, and his whimpers increased with each approaching step.

"Rusty, honey, it's okay. I know you didn't do it on purpose. Accidents happen to everyone. I still wet the bed sometimes when I was your age, and so did Ricky and Emily." Sharon knelt in front of Rusty and took his hands in hers. He regarded her warily, and she hadn't seen this look on his face since the first couple of weeks he'd lived with her and didn't yet trust that she wouldn't hurt him.

"I went pee-pee before bed, Sharon, I promise!" Rusty sobbed. "I didn't know I had to go. I just woke up, and I was all wet!" Sharon sighed. He had been calling her 'Sharon' less and less and 'Mommy' more and more, but she understood that he thought she was upset with him.

"I know you did, honey. I'm not angry, I promise. This is not a big deal, and you are not in trouble." Sharon pulled him closer to her and wrapped him in a warm embrace, not caring that her nightgown was getting wet. She kissed his forehead when she felt him shudder against her.

"You're not mad?"

"Of course not. It's not your fault, this just happens sometimes. But, if it happens again, come wake me up, okay?" Sharon put her hands on Rusty's cheeks and wiped his tears with her thumbs.

Rusty nodded. His sobs were starting to die down. "My old mommy used to hit me if I wet my bed," he whispered.

"Oh, sweetheart, I will never punish you for that. It was just an accident. Even if you forget to go pee-pee before bed, because, sometimes, that just happens, too. Come on, I need to give you a quick bath."

Sharon lifted Rusty with ease and carried him to the bathroom. The cold wetness from his pajamas was transferring to her nightgown, but she ignored it. She started running the bathwater and knelt to peel Rusty's soaked pajamas and underpants off of him. He put his hands on her shoulders to balance himself, and Sharon could see that he was shaking. She hugged him for a few moments before lifting him into the bathtub. She put some soap on a washcloth and gently bathed him, careful not to go too fast. She was ready to get back in bed, but she didn't want Rusty to think that she was at all upset with him. She had slowly been teaching him to bathe himself, but, since he was so upset, she wanted to coddle him a little bit. A few minutes later, she got him out of the tub and dried him off.

"All right, sweetie, why don't you try to go pee-pee, just to make sure you're all done, while I get you some clean pjs?" Rusty nodded and turned toward the toilet as Sharon left the room. She quickly changed her nightgown and grabbed some clean underpants and pajamas for Rusty from a stack of folded laundry in her room. She knelt in front of him and held his underpants open so he could step into them, then did the same with his pajama pants. Once she'd pulled his pajama top over his head, he reached up for her to hold him. His nose was running a little bit, so Sharon picked him up, got some Kleenex from the back of the toilet, and held them to his nose. His nose had started running the day before, but he had seemed fine otherwise and hadn't complained. He obediently blew into them as she carried him into the living room. She wiped around his nose with the clean edges of the tissue and threw it away before sitting down in the rocking chair. She had gotten it out of storage when Rusty came to live with her. She had rocked her children any time they were upset or sick until they were physically too big for her to do so, and she wanted to do the same with Rusty.

"We'll rock for a little bit, and then you can sleep in my bed with me. I'll take care of your sheets in the morning. How does that sound?" Rusty nodded, but a downcast expression came over his face again.

"But...What if I...I mean..."

"Have another accident? It's almost morning time, honey, I don't think that will be a problem. But, if it happens, then I'll just wash my sheets, too. I was going to change the sheets on both of our beds sometime this week, anyway, so I'll just get a head start." Rusty seemed to relax a tiny bit. "I know you're upset, honey, but please try not to worry about this. There is a protective covering on both of our mattresses, because I expected this to happen every now and then, and I expected you to want to sleep with me every now and then. All I have to do is wash your sheets tomorrow, and you know that doesn't take long. They'll be as good as new. I don't even have to clean the mattress."

Rusty nodded again and let himself relax a bit more. Sharon placed his head on her shoulder and scratched his back as she rocked him.

"I love you, sweetheart," she murmured, kissing his forehead.

"You too, Mommy," Rusty said, drowsily. He snuggled into Sharon's shoulder, loving the softness of her gown and her familiar smell. Her arms were wrapped tightly around him, and he had never felt so loved and protected before. He found sleep again pretty easily. Sharon got up and carried him into her room, tucked him into her bed, and climbed in beside him. She held him close to her as she fell asleep, and he unconsciously nuzzled against her.

Sharon woke up before her alarm on Monday morning with her arm around Rusty, who was pressed into her side. She looked down at him and frowned when she realized he felt warmer against her than he should. His little cheeks were flushed, and he sounded like he was congested. She held her hand to his forehead, confirming that he was running a fever. Her alarm went off a couple of minutes later, waking Rusty.

"Mommy, I don't feel good," Rusty whimpered, snuggling into Sharon.

"I can tell, honey. You don't look so good." Sharon felt his forehead again. "You have a fever. What hurts?"

"My head and my throat and my nose. What's a fever?"

"When you don't feel good, it means there are germs in your body. Your body heats itself up to kill the germs so you'll feel better, and that makes your forehead feel warm. That's why I felt your forehead a minute ago. It felt warm, and that's how I know you have a fever."

"Oh...I guess my old mommy didn't know how to do that." He thought for a minute. "Did you already know I was sick last night? I wondered what you were doing."

Sharon smiled. "You were lying around all afternoon and seemed to have the sniffles, which isn't like you. I touched your forehead to see if you felt warm, but you didn't, so I didn't think anything else of it. It sounds like you've caught a cold. I'll be right back, okay?" Sharon went to the kitchen for the children's Tylenol and a sippy cup of juice. The thermometer was nowhere to be found. She sat on her bed and carefully poured some Tylenol into a spoon. Rusty eyed it warily.

"What's that?"

"It's medicine. It will help you feel better...Have you never taken medicine before?" Rusty shook his head. It was a good thing Sharon Beck was in jail, where Sharon couldn't track her down and beat her to a pulp. "It might not taste too good, but the juice will take the taste away." Rusty obediently opened his mouth for the Tylenol and took a few sips of juice.

"Not so bad, huh? I'm going to change clothes really quick, and we need to run to my work for just a few minutes. Then we'll come back and watch a movie."

"I don't have to go to kindergarten?"

"Of course not. You can't go to school when you don't feel good. You won't feel like doing anything, and you might get the other kids sick." Sharon changed into jeans and a sweater while Rusty brushed his teeth, quickly washed up, and applied minimal makeup. Rusty had lay back down while she was finishing getting dressed, so she quickly put the pottied-in pajamas and sheets from the night before in a basin to soak for a while before she washed them. She let Rusty stay in his pajamas and put some socks and shoes on him and carried him down to her car.

When she arrived in the murder room, she wasn't expecting anyone to be there, as it was still pretty early. Amy and Provenza were there, though, catching up on paperwork. They both looked up as she came in carrying Rusty, who was lying drowsily against her shoulder.

"Morning, Captain...Aww, is someone sick?" Amy asked, standing up and ruffling Rusty's hair. He nodded miserably.

"Yes, I believe it's just a cold, but he has a bit of a fever. I'm keeping him home from school, but I needed to grab some things to work on at home. Rusty? Can you sit with Miss Amy while I get some things from my office?" Rusty shook his head, tightening his grip on Sharon. "Come on, honey, you like Amy. I'll only be a few minutes, I promise." Sharon gently pried Rusty's arms from around her neck and handed him to Amy. "I'll be right back," Sharon said softly and kissed his forehead. Rusty whimpered, but settled comfortably against Amy's shoulder.

When Sharon returned less than ten minutes later, Rusty was asleep. "Amy? Since he's sleeping, would you mind if I leave him here and run to the pharmacy down the street? I couldn't find my thermometer at home, and I need a few other sick day supplies, too."

"Sure, Captain. We'll be fine," Amy looked fondly down at Rusty. When Sharon returned thirty minutes later, he was still sleeping peacefully against Amy's shoulder, showing no signs of waking. Sharon gently took him from Amy and settled him against her shoulder.

"Thanks, Amy. Lieutenant, I'll check in with you guys this afternoon."

"Don't worry, Captain, we've got it covered."

When they got home, Sharon put some pillows, sheets, and blankets on the couch while Rusty looked through the DVR recordings for a movie. Sharon had recorded several over the last few months that she thought he would enjoy. He was starting to perk up a little from the Tylenol. He lay in Sharon's lap and watched The Lion King while she sifted through some paperwork. When that was over, Sharon put her work aside for the time being and got Rusty a popsicle while he found another movie to watch. She put Rusty's wet laundry in the washing machine, then put together the ingredients for clam chowder and joined Rusty on the couch once the soup was cooking on the stove. She lay on her side against the back of the couch and settled Rusty in front of her, cuddled against her.

"Why didn't my old mommy ever do any of this for me?" Rusty asked.

"I don't know, honey," Sharon said, sadly. She brushed Rusty's hair out of his eyes and put her hand on his flushed cheek. "She just didn't know how to take care of you. That's why I adopted you, and you live with me now."

"I'm glad you know how to take care of me. You're really good at it."

"Aww, thank you, sweetheart." Sharon kissed his warm forehead. "I'm glad I'm helping you feel better." They lay on the couch and watched Mulan, and when it was over, it was lunchtime. Once they had eaten, Sharon could tell that the Tylenol had worn off. Rusty was more sluggish, and his cheeks were more flushed. She got the thermometer and Tylenol from the kitchen.

"Are you feeling yucky again?" Sharon asked, pulling Rusty into her lap. Rusty nodded and rested his head on her shoulder. Sharon pressed her hand to his forehead. "Your fever went up a little bit."

"How do you know? Does my head feel warmer?"

"Yes. You are so smart," Sharon said, affectionately. She picked up the thermometer.

"What's that?"

"A thermometer. It tells me how high your temperature is. If it gets too high, that means you're really sick and I have to take you to the doctor. I don't think it's too high, but I just need to check. I'm going to hold it under your tongue, and you can't open your mouth until it beeps." Rusty watched in fascination as the numbers climbed higher. When it beeped, Sharon pulled it out of his mouth and checked it, relieved that it was fairly low.

"I want to see." Sharon held the thermometer where Rusty could see it. "one-oh-oh-six. What does that mean?"

"When you're not sick, your temperature is 98.6. Your temperature is two degrees higher than it should be. I wouldn't take you to the doctor unless it was at least 102, though, or if you still had a fever after a couple of days."

"So, I'm just a little bit sick?"

"Something like that. But you need to tell me if you start feeling worse, okay?" Rusty nodded, and opened his mouth for the spoonful of Tylenol Sharon was now holding up.

"Why don't we read a little bit from Tom Sawyer?" Sharon suggested. When Rusty learned to read and could read small books by himself, Sharon stopped reading those to him at bedtime and started reading to him from versions of chapter books that had been recrafted for elementary-aged readers. She gathered the book, his teddy bear, and a blanket and settled in the rocking chair with Rusty in her lap. He loved for her to read to him, and he loved it even more now that he was sick.

After reading a couple of chapters, Sharon could tell that Rusty was getting sleepy. She closed the book and turned him to face her, and he sleepily lay down on her shoulder. She hummed softly and scratched his back as she rocked him to sleep, and ended up falling asleep for a little while, herself.

Once Sharon woke up, she couldn't bring herself to put Rusty down. He looked so comfortable lying against her, and she had always loved the feeling of the warm weight of a sleeping child in her arms. She checked in with her team and read on her iPad while Rusty continued to sleep on her shoulder. He woke up a couple of hours later, shivering.

"I'm cold," he mumbled, snuggling more deeply into Sharon. She tightened the blanket around him and tenderly felt his forehead.

"Uh-oh, honey, your fever's gone up." She took his temperature and fed him a spoonful of Tylenol after getting a reading of 101.5. She held him tightly and rocked him, trying to warm him up.

After dinner that night, Sharon bathed Rusty and put him in some fresh pajamas. She settled him in her bed and read to him for a little while before tucking him in. She lay beside him and scratched his back until he fell asleep, then got up to clean the kitchen and get some work done. She went to sleep a couple of hours later, holding her feverish son as close to her as she could.

On Tuesday morning, Sharon woke up to Rusty tapping her face. "Mommy, I feel yuckier," Rusty pouted when she finally opened her eyes. Sharon's hand went straight to his forehead. "Oh, sweetheart, you're burning up." She held the thermometer under his tongue, sighing softly when it flashed a reading of 102.7. "All right, honey, I believe it's time to take you to the doctor. Your fever's pretty high."

"But I'm cold," Rusty whined.

"High fevers make you feel cold. I know, it doesn't make sense." Sharon gave him some Tylenol and went to the kitchen to call his pediatrician's office.

Early that afternoon, Sharon sat in an exam room in Dr. Kirkland's office, holding a drowsy Rusty in her lap. The nurse took his temperature and blood pressure and promised that the doctor would be there soon. Rusty buried his face in Sharon's shoulder when Dr. Kirkland came in. Sharon tried to pry him away from her so she could sit him on the exam table, but he had an iron grip around her neck.

"It's okay, Sharon. You can sit on the exam table and hold him in your lap." Sharon situated herself on the exam table and managed to turn Rusty around to face the doctor. "Hi, Rusty," she greeted brightly. "I hear you're not feeling too good today." Rusty shook his head. "Can you tell me what hurts?" He shook his head again.

Sharon spoke up. "He started running a low fever yesterday morning, and he complained of a sore throat, headache, and runny nose. His temperature shot up this morning, and he started complaining that his face was hurting."

"Hmmm...Sounds like a mean old sinus infection to me. I'll give you some medicine that tastes really good and you'll feel better in a couple of days. But, I need to look in your nose and throat to make sure nothing else is going on, okay?" Rusty shook his head and cowered into Sharon.

"Rusty, honey, Dr. Kirkland is just going to look. It won't hurt, I promise." Rusty reluctantly allowed the doctor to examine him, his fingernails digging into Sharon's arms the whole time. Once they were home with prescriptions for an antibiotic and a decongestant, Sharon gave Rusty his medicine and settled in the rocking chair with him. The trip to the doctor had worn him out. Sharon felt his forehead and wrapped her arms around him. "I love you, sweetheart."

"You too, Mommy. My old mommy never held me like this." Sharon blinked back tears as she rocked him to sleep, scratching his back, and they both napped for the better part of the afternoon.