Into the Unknown || A Captain America Love Story

36

Steve

"Steve?" Tori groggily calls from our bedroom.
I peek my head into our shared bedroom, a smile creeping across my lips. Tori sits up from the bed, her hair an absolute mess.
"You slept like a rock," I state.
"Yeah, I know," she spits.
"You okay, honey?" I ask her, sitting beside her. "You don't sound too well."
"Yeah," she sniffs. "I feel like a have a cold or something, but I'll be fine."
I raise an eyebrow. "It wasn't like that last time."
"You can blame Tony for that one," she says. "He caught the stomach bug from Clint, who caught it from Natasha, who caught it from—"
"I know, I remember," I say. "Just, don't get out of bed. I'll get the bowl, just in case."
"No, Steve," she retorts. "I'm fine."
"I'm still going to get it,"
I skip into the kitchen and grab a tall plastic bowl from a cabinet. I bring it back into the bedroom. I set it on Tori's bedside table and rush to get a thermometer from the bathroom.
"Did you go on a run?" Tori asks me from the bed.
"Yeah," I reply. "How can you tell?"
"Your forehead,"
I wipe a trickle of sweat off of my forehead, laughing softly. I ready the thermometer and stand my Tori's bedside.
"Open up," I command.
Tori does as I say, reluctantly opening her mouth as I place the end of the thermometer into her mouth. I set the back of my hand to her forehead.
"You're burning up," I say.
"I know," she responds, trying to not move the thermometer.
The device beeps and I take it out of her mouth. I glance at the temperature.
"You have a fever," I say matter-of-factly.
"Great," Tori groans. "Of course I get sick now."
"I'm going to take care of you," I coo. "But if you throw up on me, I'm done."

•••

"Told you," I say, holding back Tori's hair.
"Shut up, Rogers." Tori spits, panting from heaving into the toilet.
I stroke her back comfortingly, trying to keep in my "I told you so"s. She flushes the toilet and stands from the cold tile floor. I release her hair and watch her. She steps to the counter top and pulls out her toothbrush and toothpaste.
"The soup is probably ready," I chime, stepping out of the room.
I go into the kitchen and turn off the stovetop. I pour the soup into a bowl and set the pot back on the burner. I grab a spoon and go back to the bedroom.
Tori lays back in the bed and watches the television, scowling. I giggle and hand her her soup.
"Thank you," she says.
"You're welcome, honey," I reply.
"No, really."
I am about to sit next to her, but a ringing fills my ears. I reach for my phone that lays on the nightstand and read the name that is printed across the screen. I slide the screen and press it to my ear.
"Where are you, Rogers?" Tony spits.
"Apparently my name isn't Steve anymore," I laugh, placing a hand on my hip. "I'm home with your sister."
"Well, duh," he says. "You live with her."
"Well," I laugh awkwardly. "She just threw up."
"Wait," Tony says. "Did she catch something or did you two—"
"Really? You're going to go there."
"Hey, she's my sister, I deserve to know what she's done."
"For your information, we have not done that. She just caught something probably from someone last night."
"You better be telling me the truth, or I will have your ass, Rogers."
"Again, apparently Steve isn't my name anymore."
Tony sighs. "Just take care of her for me, please. I'll cancel the plans we made and do something else."
"I will, Tony," I promise him, watching Tori set the full bowl of soup onto the nightstand.
"Just let me know if she gets better or worse," he says.
"I'll do that too," I say, watching Tori grab the plastic bowl as her face begins to pale. "I gotta go, like now. I'll keep you informed, Tony."
"You better,"
I hang up and I quickly set the phone on the nightstand. Tori doesn't get up from the bed, only looks into the empty bowl.
"It's gone," she sighs. "I don't have to throw up anymore."
"Okay, good," I say. "Do you need me to get you anything?"
     "No," Tori says. "But, can you stay here with me?"
     "Of course," I coo.
     Tori flips the sheets over, patting a spot on the bed for me to lay down. I do as she wants me to and get in the bed. She rests her head on my shoulder and I play with her hair.
     "I'm guessing that Tony was on the phone," she says.
     "Yeah," I sigh.
     "Hm,"
     "I'm sorry that you're sick, honey,"
     "It's okay," Tori says. "You couldn't have controlled it."
     "I know,"
     We glance at the television, which I haven't paid any mind to. A random show is on, which I don't know anything about. As I look down at Tori, I hear the phone ring once more. I groan and reach for the phone. I see Natasha's name on the screen and answer.
     "Yeah?" I ask, pressing the phone to my ear.
     "When do you think Tori will be better?" Natasha asks abruptly.
     "Uh, maybe in a day or two," I answer. "Why?"
     "We are going on a mission in a little less than a week,"
     "Oh, um, yeah, she'll be better by then,"
     "Make sure that she is,"
     "I will,"
     I hang up, raising an eyebrow. I carefully get up from the bed, earning a questioning glance from Tori.
     "It's been three hours," I state. "I need to give you more medicine."