a/n:

angst? angst.

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"Just get some rest, dear," Katherine said softly, sitting at the foot of Joseph's bed where the thirteen year-old rested. He was laying in his own sick, one of many affected by the influenza pandemic impacting the country.

"I'll be fine, Mama," Joseph responded softly, rubbing the back of his hand along his forehead to wipe away the sweat building up. "You can go to work."

"No," Katherine responded, shifting the mask that was covering her mouth and nose, "I need to be here with you."

"Well, don't get too close to me. You don't need to get sick, too."

Katherine nodded softly, standing from the bed and exiting the room, making sure the door was closed behind her. Katherine had isolated Joseph in his own room, worried that her other children would also become infected with the flu. However, she had made sure the windows were always open so the family would get fresher air with every breath. That was the key to battling the flu: taking in fresh air.

Katherine stepped over to Velma and Veronica, wrapping her arms around them in an embrace before they left for school. "Keep the masks on," she said sternly. "Do not take them off and remember that hygiene is everything."

"Don't worry. We know what to do," Velma responded, drawing herself away from Katherine and grabbing her school bag, shortly followed by Veronica.

It had been a month since the telegram of Jack's death arrived, and the family did the most they could. Coping with the news was difficult, especially when all they had ever known was the close relationship every family member had with Jack.

Over a year wasted away since Jack left for the war. Things looked to be better for the United States, with the Battle of Cantigny greatly weakening the enemies' forces and pushing the Allies closer to victory.

When the records of Battle of Hamel came, Katherine didn't feel any remorse whatsoever. She knew Jack was no longer fighting, so she no longer felt worried or fearful that Jack would die in battle. That fear was already a reality, only creating numbness in Katherine's heart.

Katherine sat at her typewriter, watching as the six month-old Jackson attempted to crawl around the parlor, only getting away with shuffling his legs. She rested the papers in her hands beside the typewriter, knowing they were documents she needed to read over before the day ended. Katherine postponed that task, however, and simply focused on Jackson.

Joseph's coughs would often catch Katherine's attention from the other side of the door, but she was always careful about checking him. She made sure Jackson was as far as possible, secure from accidentally harming himself before checking on her oldest son.

"I feel weak," Joseph told Katherine sometime around three o'clock, shivering underneath mounds of blankets yet seemingly unaware of the sweat building on his face. "It's a terrible feeling."

"You'll be okay," Katherine comforted him, running her fingers soothingly through his dark brown hair. "The doctor just said that you need to rest and you should get better."

"I don't feel any better," Joseph murmured, his eyes half-closed drowsily. "I feel worse."

Katherine didn't say anything else, she just brushed the hair out of his face, wiping away strands that were sticking to his forehead because of the sweat. She didn't move until she heard Jackson give a soft wail from outside the room. She slowly rose from Joseph's bed, leaving the room and closing the door behind her before removing the mask on her face and stepping toward the basket Jackson was in.

"I know... I know you're hungry," Katherine murmured, lifting the infant out of the basket and holding him tenderly against her. "Just be patient with me, please. This is hard..."

<><><>

Jackson was put down for his evening nap, just in time for Velma and Veronica to arrive home from school, removing the masks from their faces with a sigh of relief. They entered the parlor where Katherine sat, typing hastily onto her typewriter. She turned at Velma's and Veronica's entrance, giving them a weak smile before returning to the typewriter to finish what she had been working on.

"Half of our class is sick with the influenza," Velma told Katherine, seating herself on the settee. She was shortly followed by Veronica, who tucked her legs underneath her body and turned to face Katherine.

"They think it's from the soldiers," Veronica said quietly, running a hand through her hair. "At least, they think it's from the soldiers that returned because of injuries. It's just gotten greatly out of hand."

Katherine didn't respond, but Velma and Veronica could see their mother visibly slouch in her seat. That was when they knew why she suddenly became upset: even the slightest mention of the soldiers or the war brought back the unpleasant memory of receiving that life-changing telegram.

Eventually, Katherine turned in her chair and stood from the typewriter, looking down at Velma and Veronica, "Could one of you go wake up Joseph? The doctor came by and gave me his medicine to give to him before he eats dinner."

"Yes, Mama," Veronica replied, standing from the settee and placing her mask back over her mouth and nose. She exited the parlor, stepping quietly through the hallway until she stopped at Joseph's bedroom door. She knocked on it quietly, unsure if he was sleeping or not before she opened the door.

Joseph's frail body was curled underneath the covers in a fetal position, unmoving and silent. Veronica gently sat on the edge of the bed, running her fingers through Joseph's hair, "Jo? It's time to wake up. Mama has your medicine so you can get better." Joseph never stirred, so Veronica shook him tenderly.

There was no response.

"Jo?" Veronica felt her panic increase, and she shook him harder. She felt as if her heart skipped a beat, placing a trembling finger beneath his nose but feeling no breath. "Jo!" Veronica tried everything, but she could feel no pulse, no heartbeat, and—ultimately—no life.

Veronica sprinted out of the bedroom, feeling her eyes pool with tears before she stopped at the kitchen where Velma and Katherine stood. "Joseph," Veronica began, feeling the tears fall down her cheeks as she ripped off the mask, "he won't wake up."

The bottle of medicine Katherine had in her hand fell to the ground. The next thing they all knew, Katherine was running into Joseph's bedroom, not bothering for a mask. The sight of Joseph's lifeless body earned a heart wrenching sob out of her.

She sat on the side of the bed, taking Joseph's pale, motionless body into her arms and holding him close to hers. "No, no," she kept repeating, crying into Joseph's shoulder. "Please come back to me, Joseph..." With one final sentence, Katherine felt herself cracking:

"I can't lose you, too."