Ladon wanted to die. He wanted to curl into a ball, close his eyes, and simple cease to be, and if he couldn't get that, actually being able to BREATHE through his nose would have been nice.

Moaning for the millionth time that morning, Ladon pulled his heavy quilt from off his face to take in some fresh air. It was cold in his room and he gave a hard, wet sniffle as he pried his eyes open to look around. His room was dim, with the faint blue glow of winter that told you it was snowing outside and there was no point in even getting out of bed – which was a good thing. He wasn't.

His arms ached, his body hurt, he couldn't decide if he was hot or cold, the OJ beside his nightstand had long since grown warm, and he wished he could breath in the Vicks vapor rub so that it could clear his sinuses. Instead, he gave a painful hack and gave a pathetic whimper. "I hate this…" He said, his voice raspy as he pressed his face in the pillow, muffling his words.

He slept too much to fall asleep again, and yet he was too tired to move. His stomach was aching because he was hungry, yet he couldn't even think of food right now. Reaching out, he grabbed the box of Kleenex by his nightstand and pulled out another lotion-filled, Aloe Vera coated tissue and whipped his nose before curling it up into a ball in his hand. He held it there, and curled his hands in, giving another wet cough and groaning.

If it had been a normal cough, he could just blame the season. It was winter. People got sick all the time. It was just that common thing that happened with the season that made it easily believable that he was sick when his mother came in to check on him. Stocking his room with Nightquil, Vick Vapor rub, Kleenex, and making him hot tea, he gave up on any attempt to be independent and just let his mother have her fun being motherly.

He only wished she didn't have to work, and he regretted telling her that he would be "fine" and would stay that way before she headed off to her job.

His tea was cold, barely touched, and he rolled on his stomach, reaching over his bed to find the bottle of water so that he could drink something. The cold water cooled him down, but it just reminded him that he was hungry and having cold water hit an empty, hot stomach just made him want to hurl. His eyes looked up at the bag of pretzels on his nightstand and he turned his back to it. Ugh. He didn't even feel like he could chew.

Wiping his nose again, he dragged the pillow over to his face, and curled in, causing a few wads of tissue to fall off the bed to the ground. Anyone who walked in could just see and feel the sickness in his room, and he was far past caring about it. If he had a lick of energy to pick up the tissues, he would have gotten something to eat. Instead, he sat up and coughed some more, touching his chest as he felt his lungs hurt, and then looked around for the bag of Halls he had had somewhere.

Wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his PJs, he saw the bag at the foot of his bed. "Really?" He croaked, and crawling over, grabbed the bag of cough drops and returned back to his pillow, popping one of the fruity drops and curling into his bed again.

Maybe if he was lucky, someone would break into his house and put him out of his misery. Sadly, no criminal was insane to go in this weather to start raiding someone's house.

Ladon whined at this thought.