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English
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Part 2 of Full Circle
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2018-12-06
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2023-11-28
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47/47
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Snapshots

Chapter 5: Running On Empty

Notes:

This chapter was essentially co-written by Elise-Collier. Absolutely anything to do with football came from her, as my knowledge is... dismal. Seriously, one of my questions to her was "Does football have quarters?"

The idea for this was inspired by a comment I received. I couldn't quite sort out a story in my head that matched the above, but, here's some Claire gets sick and clawen fluff.

I have a request to make for this universe and it'd make me so happy if you would take it. I observed that in "Full Circle," you've talked about how occupied Claire has been with work and often does make an effort to balance it out but Owen and Maisie fail to appreciate that. It would be incredible if you could write something revolving around Claire making a genuine effort to balance out things without it being noticed by either Owen or Maisie and Claire simply ends up falling super sick (passes out, maybe) and that's when Owen and Maisie realize how wrongly they've been treating Claire. I just feel like this would make for a great angst plot.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Running On Empty

Claire vaguely remembered Karen commenting in one of their earlier conversations that she should be prepared to get every single cold and flu and anything else that goes around. She had scoffed at her sister's comments, remarking that she and Owen were very healthy and so was Maisie. Besides, it was not like Maisie was a toddler; she knew to wash her hands after the bathroom.

The first cold of the school year was easy to brush aside; Maisie only seemed to be sniffling for a day or two before it went away. The second one lasted a bit longer, but again, it cleared up pretty quickly and neither Owen or Claire came down with anything. The first bout of the flu sucked, as neither Claire nor Owen were all that prepared or enthused by the fact that at ten, Maisie wasn't old enough to cope with throwing up on her own. A game of rock paper scissors happened for the first round. Claire lost, but then ran out of the bathroom gagging, and the duty fell to Owen by default.

While both Claire and Owen felt a little under the weather by the end of that round, neither actually succumbed. They all spent the weekend staying home and watching movies and were all ready and able to deal with work and school the following week.

The second bout of flu took down both Owen and Maisie. Claire spent a week waiting on them hand and foot. She barely managed to convince Owen that he still needed to be the one who helped Maisie out when she threw up. She argued that he was already sick and did they really want the flu to take them all out at once? Thankfully, that round of the flu involved very few bodily fluids. Instead, Claire felt like she was working in a laundromat, having to wash the sheets from both beds, along with multiple pairs of pjs, at least once a day as the two kept sweating through them. She never would've thought she'd be so relieved to hear the two whine about being hungry. It was a very welcome change from having to continually remind them to drink more and eat something.

Claire didn't even notice the cough she developed. She was to busy taking care of them and trying to manage all her DPG responsibilities at the same time. Besides, it wasn't like it hurt to cough or that she was even coughing anything up. It was more just a bit of an annoyance.

She was happy the day that both Owen and Maisie were well enough to return to school and work; she'd been missing her office. Her home office was nice, but it was hard to focus when she was also constantly listening for someone to call her name or one of them running to the bathroom. The white noise of the office was soothing in comparison, and she happily settled back behind her desk, finally getting a chance to get on top of her email.

Claire also greatly appreciated the chance to go out and eat a meal that wasn't based on soup and crackers. It helped that both Zia and Franklin were happy to see her and she got a chance to get a full update on what had been happening, liberally sprinkled with all the gossip she'd missed. She continued to roll her eyes over the constant drama going down and blamed it on all the young interns, but she couldn't help being sucked into it. Like watching a train wreck, it was hard to look away.

When she coughed a few times over lunch, Zia had looked a little concerned and asked if she was feeling alright. Was she sure she hadn't come down with the flu? Claire waved her away, saying that it was nothing and she felt fine.

The rest of the week continued on the same way. Maisie and Owen were bouncing back and Claire didn't think she was getting any worse. Sure, she felt a little run down, but she blamed that on having had little sleep when they were sick followed by a long week of working overtime trying to catch up. The cough was sticking around, but it hadn't turned into anything more, so besides drinking a lot of tea, she ignored it.

Sunday was football day. And all three of them had been looking forward to it. While it was common to put the games on in the house, this Sunday they were headed to Levi's Stadium to watch the 49ers live and in-person. Maisie had never been to a game before and had been excited about the planned trip for weeks. She had expressed worry about missing it when she was sick, and all three were equally relieved that she was feeling better.

The day of the game, all three piled into Claire's car, agreeing it would be much easier to park at the crowded lot than Owen's truck. Claire, still coughing, didn't put up a fight when Owen asked for the keys, handing them over easily. She was feeling really rundown, but didn't want to say anything, not with the excitement that radiated out of Maisie. Owen raised an eyebrow, but also didn't say anything, not wanting to press his luck.

Entering the stadium, Claire got caught up in the whirlwind of it all, trying to keep track of both Maisie and Owen. Luckily, amidst the sea of red and gold jerseys, they stood out, as neither was wearing one or even the home team's colors. Owen was a fan of the Cowboys, but they weren't playing today and he sure as hell wouldn't be caught dead in a Niners jersey. Claire was a fan of the Packers, also not playing today, and so she'd left her jersey at home. Furthermore, she was feeling a little cold, and had actually bundled up in layers, trying to keep warm. Maisie didn't own a jersey, although Claire and Owen had already planned to change that. Both Claire and Owen had been competing for her loyalty, trying to both subtly (and not so subtly) convince her why their team was the best. So far, she'd indicated a personal preference for the 49ers, which both were trying to accept (although, admittedly, not very gracefully).

As they walked through the stadium corridors packed full of people, Claire kept one hand resting on Maisie's shoulder, propelling her along, while her other was tucked into Owen's, keeping him close. Maisie's head was swinging from side to side, trying to take everything in. The gift shops full of branded merchandise, the people, and all the food choices.

"Can I get fries?" Maisie asked, as they passed one booth, before her mind switched again. "No, a hot dog." A little further on, it changed again, "They sell ice cream here?"

"Let's find our seats first," Claire suggested. "There will be lots of time to get something to eat. You don't have to decide right this minute."

"And there's enough time for more than one thing, too," Owen winked at Maisie.

"Seriously, you guys were just sick," Claire groaned at them. "Please, take it easy on the junk food today."

"We'll share," Owen smiled at her, letting go of her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulder instead, pulling her into his side. "It'll be fine."

After finding their seats, Maisie was unable to curb her enthusiasm to just sit quite yet. Claire suggested that she and Owen go back and figure out their first snack, and maybe take a look at the gift shops.

"Can I get a hat?" Maisie asked, eyes wide in excitement.

"Sure," Claire nodded. "Or maybe something else. Take a look around."

As soon as they were out of sight, Claire let out the cough she'd been trying to hold back, before slumping in her chair. She could really use something to soothe her throat. Grabbing her phone, she texted Owen to ask him to bring her back a bottle of water. Then, using the time alone, she closed her eyes, trying to keep her coughing down. It was going to be a long afternoon.

Her eyes sprung open - what felt like barely a minute later, although she knew it had been longer - when she heard Maisie calling her name.

"Claire, Claire, Claire!" Maisie scrambled down their row, stopping beside her. "Look!" She pulled at the number 10 jersey she was now wearing, bright grin on her face. Claire lifted a finger and moved it in a circle, and Maisie twirled on command.

"Looks great," Claire grinned back. "What else did you get?" She leaned around Maisie, seeing Owen struggling down the row, his arms full.

"Hey, kiddo, some help?" Owen asked as he neared them. Maisie obligingly reached for Claire's water bottle first, passing it over, before grabbing the container of fries and sitting down next to Claire. She put the fries on her lap, before reaching up for one of the drinks Owen was still holding, taking it and resting it in the cupholder.

Owen sat down on the other side of Maisie, taking a careful sip of his beer, before resting it on his knee, and reaching for one of the fries.

"Garlic fries," Maise turned back to Claire, raising them up towards her. "Want one?"

"No, that's okay," Claire shook her head, opening her bottle of water. "I'm not hungry yet."

Maisie shrugged, resting the fries back in her lap. "Is it almost ready to start?" She looked down at the field where the players were warming up in casual, work-out clothing. As the young girl's eyes followed Jimmy Garoppolo's throws with keen interest, Claire suddenly understood Maisie's "home team pride." Had she been feeling less ill, she would've laughed.

"Twenty minutes until kickoff," Owen answered, taking a quick glance at his watch and unaware of Maisie's focus.

Feeling a cough rising in her throat, Claire took a quick sip of water, but it ended up being a bad idea, the coughing fit being even bigger than before. When she finally caught her breath, Owen was looking at her concerned.

"You okay?" he asked, leaning over Maisie to look at her a bit more critically.

"Fine," Claire dismissed. "Went down the wrong tube."

Not long into the first quarter, Claire got up to use the bathroom, shaking her empty water bottle at Owen, when he looked up. Really, she was on the verge of another coughing fit, and didn't want to have it in front of everyone. She grabbed another bottle of water on her way back to the seat.

She had to make another couple of quick exits during the second half, each time arriving back at her seat feeling more worn out than before. Thankfully, both Maisie and Owen were caught up in the game and hadn't seem to notice her trips out. She was starting to wonder how she was going to make it through the rest of the game.

When halftime arrived, she was relieved. Maisie was insisting she was hungry again, and couldn't they go get a pretzel? Oh, and that she needed to use the bathroom. This time, all three of them stood up from their seats, Claire and Maisie beelining for the bathroom line, while Owen waited in a food line. By the time Maisie and Claire came out, Owen was just picking up his order. They took it from him, and Owen said he needed to use the bathroom himself, but he'd meet them back at their seats.

The crowded concourse was making Claire agitated. Ever since the Jurassic World incident, she hadn't liked crowds. She put up with them in order to deal with large rallies as part of her DPG responsibilities, but you wouldn't find her near a mall around Christmas or a grocery store on a Sunday afternoon. She hustled Maisie through the crowd, feeling sweat gathering on her brow and the back of her neck. Was it hot in there, or just her?

Once they were back at their seats, she pulled off her outer jacket, still feeling overheated. By the time Owen made it back to them, she'd removed another layer, and was left in a long sleeved T. She could still feel sweat on her brow, and was sure now, that it was just her. Dammit, she wasn't supposed to get sick. She had been fine. Sure, a bit of a cough, but fine.

"Claire?" Owen asked, looking at her in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Claire tried to brush it off. "Nothing's wrong."

"Hey Maisie, switch seats with me for a minute," Owen beckoned to Maisie. She quickly moved over, and Owen dropped into the seat between them, his focus still on Claire. Dropping his voice to a whisper, knowing she wouldn't want him to make a scene, he asked again. "Seriously Claire, are you feeling okay?"

"Fine," Claire shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Try that again," Owen nudged her, "but see if you can actually look at me when you say it."

"Not so hot," Claire finally sighed, eyes reluctantly meeting his.

Owen rested his hand on her forehead for a moment, before pulling back. "I'd say a little too hot," he said, just as Claire broke into another coughing fit. She couldn't hide it or blame it on water that time, and he just waited it out, rubbing her back through it.

"I'm sorry," Claire whispered.

"Sorry?"

"It's her big day," Claire replied, looking around him at Maisie, who was thankfully occupied watching the cheerleaders.

"Claire, if you're sick," Owen looked a bit offended, "Maisie would get it."

"I really wasn't feeling this bad earlier," Claire leaned back in her seat. Owen moved his hand from rubbing her back to up around her shoulders, letting her rest her head against him, as he shifted closer to her. "Just coughing and a bit run down."

"Well, I think it's moved past that now," Owen said, feeling her start to shiver. He grabbed the thin zip up sweater she had brought and helped her get back into it. "C'mon," he reached for her jacket, and started to gather stuff up.

"What?" Claire looked alarmed at his actions.

"You're not feeling well," Owen looked at her. "This is the last place you should be."

"No," Claire shook her head. "We're already here. I can make it." Off Owen's disbelieving look, she added, "Promise. It's not like I'm doing anything here, just sitting."

"Owen. Owen!"

Owen turned when Maisie called, pulling on his arm. "What?"

"Did you see that?" Maisie pointed out at the field, and Owen just nodded along, although he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to have seen. He looked back at Claire, who was giving him a pointed look. Sighing, he let her jacket rest in his lap, and leaned back in his seat. He moved his arm back behind her again, and she shifted closer to him. It was actually that move that worried him more, as Claire was not a fan of PDA, and to be cuddling with him at the stadium told him just how bad she was feeling.

In the end, he convinced her to leave halfway through the fourth quarter. The game wasn't close and he didn't expect they'd miss much. He used the excuse of beating the crowds out of the parking lot, and Maisie's own enthusiasm had started to dim after the few hours they've been there. She especially lost interest when Jimmy Garappolo stopped throwing touchdowns. Claire was asleep against the window before they even made it out of the parking lot.

The drive back to their house was quiet. Owen had the radio playing softly and he was humming along, but Maisie had also fallen asleep, worn out from the exciting day. She woke as they pulled into the driveway, and he sent her inside with all their stuff, before he woke up Claire. Barely awake, he guided her straight to their bedroom, sitting her on the edge of the bed while he pulled out pajamas and the thermometer. He'd never owned a thermometer before, but it had gotten a lot of use the last few weeks. Living with a child was definitely a change.

"102?! Claire!" Owen exclaimed, checking the reading when the thermometer beeped.

"What?" Claire asked tiredly, staring at the pajamas he'd placed on the bed, but making no move to change.

"You should've said something," Owen said, a little aggravated.

"What's wrong?" Maisie's voice came from the doorway, stepping into the room when Owen looked over at her.

"Looks like Claire wasn't immune to the flu after all," Owen shook his head.

"Oh," Maisie's expression fell. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Owen immediately disagreed. "Everyone gets sick." He looked over at Claire, who hadn't moved. "Even Claire." He turned back to Maisie. "Can you go grab her a glass of water?" Maisie nodded and left the room, and Owen quickly moved back to Claire. "Let's get you into these pajamas and into bed," he told her and between the two of them, they managed to do so quickly. She was just sliding under the covers when Maisie returned with the glass of water.

"I grabbed the Tylenol," Maisie told him, handing over the bottle.

"Good thinking," Owen smiled at her, opening the bottle and pouring out a couple of pills. After convincing Claire to take them and leaving the glass of water on the side of the bed, he ushered Maisie out of the room. "Let's go sort out dinner and let Claire sleep."

"She'll be okay, right?" Maisie asked.

"Before you know it," Owen nodded, taking one last glance in at Claire, snuggled deep under the covers, just the top of her head visible.

Owen was just cleaning up the kitchen after dinner when he heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. Knowing that Maisie was outside, he hurried out of the room to see Claire tiredly stumbling down the stairs, a pile of sheets in her arms.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Owen stopped her a couple of steps from the bottom. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I need to wash them," Claire told him, her eyes bright with fever. Owen looked at her more carefully, seeing that she'd changed from the pajamas he'd helped her into just a few hours before.

"Why didn't you call me?" Owen asked, gently tugging the bundle of sheets away from her.

"When's the last time you did laundry?" Claire raised an eyebrow. The effect was weak, as she sunk down onto the step, unable to keep herself up any longer.

Owen looked a little chagrined, hating to have to admit that she was right. It hadn't been something he'd planned, but he would easily admit to not being a fan of the boring chore and being happy that Claire had just taken it on. Probably one of a million little things they had never discussed, but both had naturally done (even if there was nothing natural about it).

"You're sick," Owen stated. "I think I can handle taking on laundry while you're sick. Just sit there." Taking the pile of laundry, he hurried into the laundry room, dumping it into the wash and getting it started. He half expected when he returned to the stairs to find Claire gone, but she was leaning against the wall right where he'd left her. Helping her stand up, he led the way back up to the bedroom and sat her on the chair in their room. "I'm not inept, you know," he told her, pulling out a clean set of sheets and remaking the bed. "And I want to help."

"I know," Claire sighed. "But you make practically all the meals as it is. I really don't mind doing laundry. It's pretty mindless."

"Yeah, well," Owen pulled her back to her feet, guiding her back into the freshly made bed. "We're a team, you know? We both should play to our strengths."

"Like Aaron Rogers staying on offense and Clay Matthews on defense?"

"Ugh, more like Cole Beasley playing wide receiver while Zeke sticks to running back." Owen pulled the blankets up to her chin, watching with a soft smile as she snuggled deeper into the bed. "But, seriously Claire," he reached down and brushed her bangs off her forehead before dropping a kiss there, "you can lean on me - sick or healthy."

"I know," Claire replied sleepily, her eyes already closing again. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

Notes:

Thanks for taking the time to read and review, as always. :) Keep a lookout for more snapshots, and if you have ideas, feel free to share them. I make no promises they will get written (or end up close to what you expected), but if they inspire something, I'll try to write it.