Ever since you left me I've been dancing on my own Maybe down the line I'll feel better all alone But I don't wanna talk to strangers Don't wanna play with players I only wanna get back to you I'm stuck on this emotion If we could get a moment I know you'd feel it too

Maybe I'm wrong But I could be right I don't even care I'm losing my mind

It all started earlier in the week when one of the twins became ill. Because one of them had fallen ill. Tate and Dottie took Aiden. So that at least one of them could get some rest. Addison Addison's piercing screams had essentially turned into a constant background score in their house over the course of the better part of the past few days straight. Her mother claimed that it was merely a phase that not only Addison but also her older sisters Betty and Polly, as well as every other toddler on the face of the earth, went through at some point, although usually when they were older than Addison was now. The sassy backtalk and attitude were one thing, but Betty was better equipped to handle it with a certain level of patience that had only grown as their daughter did when most of the time it still deescalated into incomprehensible babble. Betty was better equipped to handle it with a certain level of patience that had only grown as their daughter did. It was helpful that Addison could still be easily overpowered in the majority of situations; however, Betty had also learned the difference between battles that were negotiable and mild bribery in order to get her to comply, and she was no longer above resorting to the latter if it meant that Addison wouldn't throw an all-out tantrum when it wasn't deemed necessary for her to do so. The fake crocodile tears were something she was still learning not to give into too easily, unable to shake the aching pain in her chest any time her daughter cried but too early on, Addison had learned to use said tears to her advantage in an attempt to influence her mother for her own personal benefit, and Betty's growing immunity to them was admirable, to say the least. 

Betty was unnerved by the screams, which increased in volume and went up an octave as the day and night progressed. Even during those first few days straight she'd come home from the hospital as a newborn, Betty didn't remember feeling this helpless regarding how to provide for their daughter, how to make her comfortable and happy when she couldn't understand what it was that her daughter wanted to calm her down. Naturally, they had arrived at the conclusion that maybe it wasn't something that even Addison could put into words herself if she was sick or something was hurting, unable to tell them what was wrong other than throwing rage-fueled fits like the one they were currently weathering now.

She had only left the room to dash upstairs and retrieve the thermometer from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, worried about leaving her alone for a second, even for a brief period of time, but the high-pitched screeches followed her everywhere without allowing her any reprieve. Betty only caught the tail end of Addison's escape as she returned to the living room, just as she was pressing the keypad. Betty cringed as she immediately surged forward, knowing all too well from her own experiences just how much that did actually hurt but being unprepared for it. She had become frustrated with Addison's fits, but she had never seen herself this frustrated in a way that she could recognize instantly. The lack of sleep had caused tensions to rise, and her patience had worn thin a long time ago, which was reflected in the faint dark circles that were beginning to form under her eyes.

Betty instantly obeyed him and took the tangled mess of kicking and screaming into her arms. All the while, she held her head back to avoid getting clocked herself as she attempted to wrangle her arms at least around Addison's legs to keep her more or less still. Now that Addison was quite literally screaming into her ear, it was doing nothing to help the headache that she'd had since four o'clock that morning and that no amount of aspirin or coffee seemed to be able to touch. Addison's hands waved, and she came dangerously close to grabbing hold of her mother's hair as Betty's eyes flashed back. It was a moment of 'what do you want me to do?' that stemmed more from the fact that Betty was running on empty than it did from any actual accusation.

"Addison, refrain from..." Betty was attempting to cradle her against her chest while stooping to finagle the thermometer back into her hand while balancing the wriggling toddler in the other hand. The tone of her voice was as commanding as it was pleading. Naturally, Addison didn't give a hoot; her sole mission was to continue screaming at the top of her lungs, and as soon as Betty tried to place the thermometer sensor on Addison's forehead, Addison turned her head away in defiance. "How much of this do you think I could handle by myself?" Betty let out a frustrated sigh and then hurled the thermometer onto the couch as soon as she finished. Then she swung around on her heel, hefted Addison into her hold, and headed straight for the kitchen without so much as a diversion. She handled the situation with about as much finesse as a sack of potatoes.