I'm back! And so is the RW AU (kinda)! I promised I wouldn't let it die, and I've (finally) delivered!

Just a word of warning, this isa sick fic, so there is a brief mention of vomit. Not too graphic or nasty of course but if that kinda thing makes you uncomfortable you might wanna skip this one.

I hope you enjoy, and I love reviews, so feel free to tell me what you think!

Ralph was awoken by the tiniest tug on his shirt sleeve.

Ordinarily nothing could rouse the large man from deep sleep, but things hadn't been ordinary in a long time.

Groggily he craned his neck, peering around the dark room, and after being met with silence, was about to lay back down and blame his snoring for waking him up (it happened more often than he'd like to admit), when another tiny pull took him out of his sleepy thoughts. Though this time, it was accompanied by a whimper and a tiny murmur, in a very familiar voice.

This had Ralph wide awake in an instant, as the person this voice belonged to was not known for whimpering, or showing any sign of fear or hurt if she could help it. His new parental instincts instantly kicked in and were screaming at him that something was terribly wrong.

He couldn't make out what she'd said, but found that was the least of his worries. Quickly switching the bedside lamp on, he squinted as his eyes adjusted, and as his vision became clearer, his concern only grew.

Vanellope looked terrible. She was pale, her normally healthy rosy face now drained of all color. The little girl was somehow sweating and shivering at the same time. Her usually bright eyes were clouded with a feverish haze and her mouth was quivering, her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach.

Oh no. She's sick, she's sick, she's sick! Ralph started to panic, But she's never been sick since I've had her. What do I do?! I've never taken care of a sick kid, I can't-

His mind was starting to spiral and he was getting lost in his thoughts when the little girl coughed; a harsh, wet cough that shook her tiny frame even more, snapping him out of it instantly.

He tentatively reached out and felt her forehead. It didn't take a doctor to figure out that the little girl had a fever. She was burning up.

"M-my stomach h-hurts Ralph." Vanellope whined uncharacteristically.

Oh no! What if she had the flu? Or food poisoning? Or salmonella? Or Ebola?! Was the fever too high? Should he take her to the hospital?! Call an ambulance?!

Stop that! he mentally smacked himself, This isn't helping anything dummy! Focus!

He didn't have to worry too much about distracting himself though, as Vanny did it for him real quick when she gagged, a hand immediately covering her mouth as if that would stop the inevitable.

He lunged, grabbing the little girl faster than he thought he'd ever moved for anything, holding her at arms' length as he ran to the bathroom and getting there just in time.

Ralph wouldn't consider himself squeamish, he wasn't very easily grossed out, especially since Vanellope had come into his life. But throw up was where he drew the line. He didn't think anyone didn't get at least a little revolted by it. He almost gagged along with the poor little girl several times, but found it was easy to distract himself with how worried he was about his kid. For once he was thankful for his anxiety. It could finally serve a purpose. He rubbed her back gently in an attempt to offer some form of comfort, holding her hair away from her face.

He tentatively peered down at the girl when the retching stopped, and found her looking even worse than before. She looked so out of it that he didn't think she even noticed him zoning out.

Ralph took a deep breath and tried to think what to do first. Now that it was abundantly clear that she was sick, it was time to do something about it. He had to have some medicine around somewhere.

He felt hazy eyes on him, and when he looked down at the little girl she did something she'd never done before. Vanellope lifted her arms up in a gesture typical of a much younger child. Quickly obliging and picking her up, much more gently this time, Ralph ignored his surprise at the vulnerability his tough girl was showing and focused on the task at hand. She must feel terrible to be able to let go of her pride like that.

Once in the kitchen, he rifled through his medicine cabinet as best he could with one hand, and by some miracle came across some fever reducer. He didn't remember ever buying it; Vanellope had never gotten sick before, and he had no idea how it had come to be there. But there was no time to dwell on that. He was just thankful that it was there right when he needed it.

He set the little girl on the sofa, then quickly looked at the label on the medicine bottle, pouring the correct amount into the little cup. Vanellope groaned at being moved, but seemed to perk up a bit when she realized what was happening, as her eyes widened and she scooted away as quickly as her sick state would allow, acting as if the medicine in Ralph's hand was poison. He allowed himself an eye roll. Of course that would bring her out of her stupor.

"C'mon kid, ya gotta take the medicine, we have to get your fever down." He was ashamed at how close to begging he sounded.

The child only shook her head vigorously in protest, then put a hand to her forehead as the room started to spin.

"Vanny," he said in as firm a tone as he could muster while at the same time using the comforting nickname, "you have to take this, you need it. It'll make you feel better." This time he got a weak, stuttering protest of "N-no!" and winced at how hoarse she sounded.

Then Ralph remembered something.

He got an idea. A kind of mean idea, but it just might work.

"Hey kid, what was that you said earlier when you were trying to wake me up?" He asked, inching the little cup the tiniest bit closer to her.

This went unnoticed by the girl, who just looked at him for a second, trying to process his question in her foggy mind. All the while he was taking advantage of her distracted state by inching closer and closer until it was right under her chin.

After a long pause raking her clouded mind for an answer, Vanellope opened her mouth to respond, and Ralph found his chance. In the blink of an eye, he brought the cup to her mouth and the startled child didn't have time to react before swallowing the medicine.

Was it his proudest moment, tricking his child into drinking the gross liquid? No. But he had to get her to take it somehow.

When he looked triumphantly down, the glare he got from the tiny girl almost made him laugh. While her normal glares could be downright menacing at times, now she just looked like a pitiful kitten, angry, but too weak to properly exact her revenge. For now.

He settled for a small chuckle, better not give her too hard a time while she's sick; and started making her comfortable on the sofa to make up for his questionable parenting strategies.

Grabbing her pillow and favorite blanket from her room, he started heading back, but paused.

There was something Vanellope always did when she was distressed, usually after a nightmare, that made her feel just a little bit better. She didn't think Ralph noticed, but he knew. And while he couldn't take away her sickness, he could at least try to take away a bit of her discomfort.

Quickly going into one of his dresser drawers, he grabbed one of his old shirts and headed back to the living room. He made up her temporary bed for the night, and offered her the shirt.

Normally, the little girl would have tried to preserve her pride by denying that having his shirt gave her any sort of comfort or security, and would probably add some little quip about it's smell, but she was exhausted and didn't feel good, and had already thrown her pride to the wind by puking her guts out, so she gratefully took the shirt from her guardian without a second thought. But if he ever claimed that she snuggled her fevered face into the cool fabric as she instantly began to doze off, Vanellope would vehemently deny it.

Wow, that was easier than I thought. He smiled at hiskid, and felt a warm sensation in his chest at how much comfort just having his shirt brought her.

Ralph found himself thinking about how lucky he was. Just a few months ago, he'd never believe he would have a kid, much less consider being up in the middle of the night taking care of her while she was sick as being lucky.

Tonight had been a whirlwind, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep until he knew Vanellope was alright. He looked at the clock. It was only a little past three. It was gonna be a long night.

After cleaning Van's room and the rest of the apartment extensively to get rid of any lingering germs, Ralph plopped down into his old chair with a sigh and looked at the clock again. It was half past four. Now he was tired. But he knew he wouldn't be going back to bed, or his bed, at least.

He leaned over and felt the little girl's forehead again. The fever was almost completely gone, she had stopped sweating and shivering, the color was coming back to her face, and now only a slight warmth remained. She looked peaceful and relaxed, like nothing had ever happened.

Wow, kids get over stuff quick, he marveled.

But even if all seemed well, he still couldn't shake the concern lingering in the back of his mind. This was all still so foreign to him, he wasn't used to worrying so much about someone else, but it somehow seemed natural at the same time. He mused on this drowsily as he turned on the TV and flipped through the channels for a while, finding something boring to watch before eventually giving in to his exhaustion.

When Vanellope awoke a few hours later, she was not in her room or Ralph's but rather, on the couch.

She thought groggily for a minute about how she ended up there before remembering the events of the night before.

Oh.

She yawned, before being startled by a loud, familiar snore, and looked beside her to find Ralph fast asleep in his chair. She frowned guiltily for a moment that he spent the night like that just out of concern for her, but felt an odd, warm feeling in her chest at the same time. Nobody had ever put her comfort over theirs before.

Ralph had actually taken care of her and made her comfortable and cleaned up, and given her medicine. And while she was still kinda mad about the medicine, she could appreciate the motives behind his actions, however traitorous they may have been. Vanellope figured she could forgive him for it, just this once.

Hearing the cacophony of snores stop, and a groan take their place, the girl looked over to find her guardian, no, her dad stretching in the worn chair, grumbling about his aches from sleeping in such an odd position. The complaints stopped, however, when he noticed she was awake.

"Oh, hey kid, how do you fee-" He was cut off when the air was knocked from his lungs by the force of the small child's embrace.

"Thanks Ralph," her still slightly congested voice squeaked out.

"I love you."

That was something he didn't hear too often. Vanellope was still getting comfortable expressing her affection for Ralph, and every time she told him she loved him it made him want to cry. She had turned him into such a softie. Or maybe he'd always been that way.

"I...I love you too, kid." He finally responded, patting her back gently.

Just a few months ago, Ralph never would've thought those three simple words would ever be said to him by anyone, much less a child; and he never would've thought they would elicit such a strong, sappy reaction from him, but here they were.

Life was weird that way. Love was weird that way.

Love was getting up in the middle of the night to take care of a sick kid without any concern for getting sick yourself. It was almost puking your guts out along with her and making her comfortable and coming up with tricky strategies to get her to take medicine and giving her your shirt if it meant making her feel the slightest bit better. And it was staying up all night worrying about her and sleeping in the most uncomfortable position imaginable, even though you knew you'd pay for it later.

Was Ralph the best parent ever? Definitely not, and he'd be the first person to tell you that. But he was willing to do anything for that little kid, because that's what love does.