TW: depictions of vomit
“Steve behind you!” Natasha yelled as she ducked under a fist and took out her attackers legs.
Steve heard her, but took just too long to process what she’d said. Suddenly he was flat on his back on the ground, vision swimming. Get up, you have to get up, he thought to himself.
Before he could make his achy limbs move however, the looming man above him was taken out from behind. He dropped to the floor, much as Steve had done a minute ago, either unconscious or too stunned to move.
“What’s wrong with you?” Nat asked, holding a hand down to Steve to help him off the ground.
He stood up on shaky legs, ignoring the spinning of his head and the turning of his stomach. As soon as he was upright however, his body went hot and his mouth filled with spit he couldn’t swallow.
“Nat-” he started to warn her, but cut himself off by pitching forwards to vomit all over his shoes. Great.
“Jesus Christ Steve,” she gasped, jumping out of the way to avoid the growing mess that he was heaving up all over the floor of the compound. It was a good thing she’d managed to take out everyone already cause Steve was clearly in no shape to be fighting.
“Sorry,” he breathed out, spitting to rid his mouth of the taste.
“Are you good?” she asked, moving to stand at his side. She draped an arm over his back and grabbed his shoulder with her other hand, helping him straighten up slowly.
“I, uh, I’m really not feeling so hot,” Steve laughed awkwardly, feeling his face flush with embarrassment.
“Clearly,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes, although Steve could sense the fondness in her voice.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. He knew he’d jeopardized the mission. Truthfully, he’d felt a little off all day, and his stomach had started bothering him a couple of hours ago, but he hadn’t realized he was actually going to throw up until a few seconds before he did.
“Let’s just get you out of here. I’ll call for a med-evac and backup to storm the second compound with me tonight,” Natasha said, “Can you walk?”
“We’ll take it slow,” Natasha said, her voice soft. She didn’t get like this very often, mostly just for Steve and Clint. Well, Bruce too, but that was different somehow.
Steve nodded, letting himself be pushed towards their exit point. When the world started spinning again he closed his eyes, letting himself lean against Natasha, who silently took his weight without complaint. She was a lot stronger than she looked, despite being so tiny. Steve had learned not to under estimate her a long time ago.
“Here, sit, relax for a bit,” Natasha’s voice shook him from his trance a few minutes later. She’d managed to get him back to their camp in the woods, just off the property, without incident.
“Shit-” Steve gasped out just before he dropped to his knees to throw up again, his stomach squeezing. So much for without incident.
“Alright, take it easy Steve, you’re okay,” she crouched down behind him, rubbing his back through his uniform. He felt her pull his helmet off, tossing it somewhere. He hadn’t realized how sweaty he was, but he felt absolutely disgusting.
“God, Nat I’m so sorry,” he gritted out a moment later, biting back dry heaves. He had nothing left to throw up but his body couldn’t seem to figure that out.
“Shut up,” she said, though just like before there was no real malice in her voice. In fact, she sounded almost… worried? That was new. Maybe he was more sick than he thought. “You’ve got a fever,” she added, as if reading his thoughts. They’d always been able to do that, read each other. It’s what made them a good team.
“Mm,” Steve hummed, closing his eyes again as Natasha practically dragged him away from the pile of sick, helping him lean up against a tree.
“I’m gonna call the tower now, try not to pass out or anything, okay?” she said, brushing his sweat dampened hair out of his eyes.
“Yes ma’am,” Steve breathed out, a smile playing at his lips despite how awful he felt.