“I’ll make you some toast and broth if you get hungry.”

Brenda called the offer over her shoulder as she set her keys on the catch-all table.

John stumbled into the house after her, barely making it to the couch before he collapsed into the deep cushions. He set his drinks on the coffee table, shifted in his seat to lie down, and covered his eyes with a freshly dampened cloth from his wonderful mother. Surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of his home, he easily drifted off to sleep.

The gamer was surrounded by trees, he was back in the forest. However, unlike the woods he was familiar with, there was no sound, no smell of pine and decaying leaves, no breeze moving the branches. It felt cold, unnatural, and a shiver went up John’s spine. He looked down at himself only to find he was in his boxers, unprotected from the elements and utterly exposed. Movement in the corner of his eye made him jump and take a step back, the leaves and moss felt like carpet under his feet.

He strained his eyes, searching the shadows for movement in the eerily still setting; the thumping of his heart beating in his throat did little to ease the tension. Another movement. John crouched and searched the ground with his hands, making sure he didn’t take his eyes away from whatever was moving towards him. He refused to be as unprepared as he was with the boar. Luckily, a sturdy feeling stick was within reach, and he stood, holding the blunt object like a baseball bat, ready for an attack.

Between the trees and undergrowth, John could see grey fur like Tala’s wolf form, but... different somehow. The color or pattern wasn’t quite hers. The hair on the back of his neck was on end and he tightened his grip on the branch, though he was too scared to move otherwise.

“John,” Brenda’s soft voice broke through the darkness, and the forest was gone just as suddenly as it had arrived. “Honey, wake up.” His eyes flew open to see she was sitting on the edge of the couch, wiping his brow with the cloth. “Nightmare?”

Groggy, John groaned. ’It was a dream?’ He tried to sit up, and his mother moved to help him. The nurse’s hands had been colder than the cloth on his head. Sunlight was coming in through the windows at a different angle than it had been when they’d first arrived in the morning. “How long was I out?” he croaked, clearing his throat.

“Only a couple hours. I could tell you needed rest,” she explained as she took the washcloth and offered him one of the drinks. “How are you feeling?”

“Ugh.” John rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he took a big swig of the, now flat, ginger ale. “Like Hell warmed over.” His hand flopped back to his side and he was relieved, for once, his head didn’t feel like it was going to explode. “I do feel a bit better though. Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime.” Her smile was in her voice as she smoothed his hair, almost like she was petting him, and he closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation. “You should try to eat something that isn’t pizza,” she half giggled and stood.

“Think I should start with toast or broth, maybe?” John looked up at her with hope. “Will probably be easy on my stomach.”

Brenda kissed her son’s forehead, making him blush as her cleavage was displayed mere inches from his face. “Coming right up. After you eat, you should head up to your room to get some proper sleep; you’re burning up.”

Her words brought the image of his fingertips tracing the lines of Tala’s skin to his mind, and the poor nerd was unable to keep his body from reacting. With a tent growing in his pants, he felt his face grow even hotter. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Thanks, Mom.” It took work to keep his tone even and calm, but the subtle smile on his mother’s lips told him he wasn’t completely successful.

The caring woman turned and went back to the kitchen to make his mild lunch. John thought back to her ‘MILF’ title and stared at her ass as she walked. ’MILF really does fit her, doesn’t it?’ he thought to himself, looking her over as she worked while his pants got more uncomfortable. ’I will never understand how my dad walked out on that. The house is perfect, she’s hot as hell, and judging by the moans at night, she’s horny and lonely.’ Mrs. Newman hummed absently to herself. The smell of toast and the scraping sound of a butterknife indicated lunch was almost ready. ’Come to think of it, I wonder why she never really dated after Dad.’

John’s stomach growled loudly, and Brenda laughed, pouring his broth into a mug. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” She was still giggling as she returned from the kitchen, a small plate of toast and mug in hand. “Here you go, honey,” she half-whispered, setting them on the coffee table. “I hope it’s mild enough to keep down.”

“I think the real struggle is going to be eating it slowly,” he smiled at her. “I’m starving.”

“Good. Hopefully, that means you’re feeling better.” Brenda gently pet his hair again before returning to the kitchen, presumably to make herself something to eat.

Forcing his eyes away from her curvaceous figure, John focused on his meager meal. The smell was homely, comforting and familiar. That alone seemed to soothe his stomach, and he took a cautious bite of the buttered toast. It was dry and bland, but he savored it after the horrible taste of the bile he’d been stuck with since he was sick this morning. Finally, he was able to eat. Each bite hit his stomach like a brick, but he didn’t care. He was nearly ravenous, concentrating so hard on eating slowly, he barely noticed when Brenda sat in her favorite chair to join him for lunch. The broth was hot and burned his throat slightly on the way down, but each sip brought back a modicum of strength, and by the time he’d finished the mugful, the gamer wasn’t shaking and cold anymore.

He set the empty dishes back on the table and leaned back, eyes closed to just relax a moment. ’Finally. The headache is gone, I feel better already.’ The sounds of movement broke him from his relaxation and his eyes flew open, on sudden high alert.

“Seems your food settled well.” Brenda, his sweet mother, smiled at him. “Go on, up to bed. Get some sleep. And don’t let me catch you back on your computer, young man. Real sleep.”

John groaned again, forcing himself back to his feet. “Yeah, alright. Don’t want you changing the internet password on me again.” He smiled at her giggle.