My first attempt at a Spy x Family fic so let me know what you think :) This is kind of in the same vein as the extra chapter where Yor gets shot in the butt but with more whump and hurt/comfort

An Occupational Hazard

A Spy X Family Fanfic

When Yor is injured on a job, she doesn't think it will be that hard to hide it from the Forgers, but maybe she misjudged just how bad it was.

Yor stood over the bodies of her current targets, panting slightly. They'd put up quite the fight and she really hoped no one nearby had heard the commotion.

Worry at being found out kicked her into motion and she quickly bent to pick up her extra knife from one of the corpses.

Pain shot through her side and she gasped involuntarily, straightening with gritted teeth. Yor pressed her hand to her side and found it wet with blood.

Oh, that wasn't very good, not at all. Where had that even come from? She hadn't felt it in the heat of battle, but one of the men must have gotten a lucky hit in somewhere...

Fingers trembling, Yor glanced down and saw that one of the dead men was clutching a bloody knife. Ah, so they had scored a lucky hit on her. Well, there wasn't anything she could do about it now.

She swiftly retrieved her knife and went to the phone to notify her boss that she had finished the job. After that, she retrieved her coat from where she had dropped it, tugging it on gingerly to hide the blood, and limped off into the night.

By the time she got back to the apartment, her side was on fire and she could feel the blood trickling down her hip.

What if I won't be able to walk tomorrow? Yor worried, hands clutching at her coat as she fumbled for her key. Oh! What if I track blood into the house? What will Loid think?

She bit back her worries, trying to focus on getting inside as quickly and quietly as possible so as not to wake Loid and Anya. It was a risk, taking jobs in the middle of the night. She didn't want to know what Loid would think if he caught her coming back in at three a.m. The idea of having to come up with some explanation mortified her more than the thought of tracking blood everywhere. Loid was more perceptive than Yuri ever had been—and, of course, he was an adult, and a psychologist at that. That was his job. But still, Yor hated the thought of upsetting this new life that had truly been a blessing to her.

But enough of that. She couldn't let her anxieties get in the way. She had to tend to her injury and wash the blood out of her dress.

Luckily, she was able to get back into the apartment without alerting anyone and hurried to the bathroom.

Yor tried not to panic as she slipped her dress off and saw all the blood. There really was a lot of it; was it too much? No, she was still standing; surely if she'd lost too much blood she would have passed out before now.

She'd been very lucky not to have to deal with too many injuries during the course of her job. A bruise or two, or maybe a shallow cut or bullet graze here and there. She didn't usually give her opponents the chance, and she usually had the element of surprise on her side. This might have been the worst injury she'd ever had.

It hurt a lot more than she had expected.

She bit her lip as she started to clean up the blood, eyes watering every time the cloth grazed over her tender skin. Blood continued to trickle out of the wound though, and Yor began to feel the panic rise again. What if it wouldn't stop? She couldn't go to the hospital, they would ask too many questions, which could bring suspicion down on her and the Forgers.

Asking Loid for help was…no, she quickly dismissed with a blush. Besides, he wasn't that kind of doctor. No, she could handle this herself like she handled everything else.

She used hydrogen peroxide to clean the blood from her dress, lamenting the tear in the fabric. She'd have to go back to the tailor shop again.

As her dress soaked, Yor did her best to patch up her wound. There were some gauze and bandages in the small medical kit in the linen cupboard. There wasn't much there, but it would have to do for tonight at least.

Yor quickly finished with her dress, bundling it up and slipping her robe on to head to her room. Her side hurt so much more now after cleaning it up. But it was just a few more yards to her bed now…

The sound of a door creaking open caused her to startle, the action sending another sharp wave of pain through her.

"Oh, it's you, Yor. I thought Anya was up. Are you all right?"

She stood there clutching the wet bundle of her dress as Loid peered tiredly from his doorway. She was frozen, hoping that there wasn't any blood visible.

"Oh, no—I was just…" she faltered. "Er, I made myself a cup of tea to help me sleep but I—I spilled it on myself," she finished quickly, tucking the dress under her arm, hoping he wouldn't notice it obviously wasn't her pajamas. "Sorry to wake you," she added, already ducking away toward her room.

"Yor."

She froze, heart pounding, sure he had figured her out. She swallowed and tried to put on an innocent face when she turned around.

A tired smile flicked over Loid's lips. "Sleep well."

Yor deflated in relief and managed a smile back. "You too."

Then she retreated as quickly as possible.

Weariness crashed into her as she finally entered her room and she lazily hung the dress over the back of a chair to dry before crawling into bed.

There wasn't really a position that didn't hurt or put stress on her injury, but Yor was honestly too tired to care at the moment. Exhaustion won out over the pain and she was asleep within seconds.

Yor felt infinitely worse the next morning.

Her body had stiffened up and left the area around the wound throbbing dully. However, the moment she thought to shift at all, the pain flared to life and felt like a brand across her skin. Yor bit her lip as she dressed, choosing one of her looser outfits that didn't have a waistband that went right over the injury. Some blood had seeped through the bandages the night before and she quickly changed them out, not spending too much time looking at the wound for fear it would make it hurt worse.

She made her way stiffly out to the table just as Anya and Loid were sitting down to breakfast.

Yor forced a smile. "Good morning," she said as she sat down as carefully as possible.

Anya's head suddenly came up, her usual morning sleepiness disappearing as she looked at Yor, and the assassin felt her heart flip. Was something wrong? Was she giving herself away?

Loid stepped in, though, and put a plate and cup of coffee in front of her. "Good morning, Yor. Anya, eat your food, you have to get dressed soon."

Anya cast one last look at Yor before turning back to her plate with a conflicted look on her face.

Yor let out a silent breath however, when she seemed to pass Loid's inspection and quickly turned to her meal. Maybe it was just one of Anya's funny moods. She ate her breakfast and tried to seem as nonchalant as possible even though the pain was making her more nauseous than anything.

"Come on, Anya, we have to leave in ten minutes!" Loid said as the little girl continued to drag her feet.

Yor made to stand up. "Oh, let me take care of the dishes this morning so you can help Miss Anya get ready," she said with a smile.

Loid gave her a grateful look and ushered Anya to her room as she protested.

Yor pushed up from the table, biting her lip as she slowly collected the plates and cups, carrying them into the kitchen.

She washed the breakfast dishes and then went to put them away once they were dry, almost forgetting about her injury until she reached up to set the cups in the cupboard.

Pain shot through her side and she was unable to keep the gasp from escaping her lips. The cup slipped through her fingers and smashed on the floor.

"Anya!"

Anya's little feet pounded into the kitchen. "It is an enemy!" she cried dramatically.

"No, Anya," Yor said, a little breathless still. "I just dropped a cup."

She went to grab the broom, but even that motion hurt and she bit the inside of her cheek to bleeding to make sure she didn't make a sound.

"Anya, you forgot your books," Loid said tiredly as he came over with Anya's bag, catching sight of the little girl watching Yor as she cleaned up the cup.

"What happened?" Loid asked.

"Oh, I just…"

"Papa," Anya cut in sharply, looking between Yor and Loid again, a worried furrow between her brows. "Mama is—"

"Clumsy," Yor cut in quickly with a light laugh. "I'm sorry I broke the cup, Loid. I can pick up another on the way home from work…"

"It's not a problem, we have extras," the man said, stepping forward. "Let me—"

"No, I've got it," Yor insisted. "You need to get Anya to the bus or she'll be late."

Loid looked at his watched and swore under his breath. "You're right. Come on, Anya."

"But, Papa—"

"No more stalling," Loid commanded and ushered her out the door.

Yor sagged when he left, a hand to her side as she simply breathed through the pain.

This was not going well.

It only got worse as the day went on. Yor tried to ignore it at work, but the pain just seemed to increase as the hours passed until it felt like the wound was burning a hole into her flesh. She also felt nauseous and slightly light-headed whenever she stood up.

"Yor, are you feeling all right?"

She looked up from making tea in the breakroom as her coworker, Sharon, watched her cautiously.

"I—I'm fine," she tried to insist even as her hand shook while she tried to stir the tea, causing the spoon to clatter against the cup.

"Are you sure? You look pale," one of the other girls said.

Yor shook her head and went to pick up the tea, only to have her hands shake so much that it sloshed over the side and she hissed as the hot liquid scalded her hand.

The cup was taken from her as Sharon took her shoulders as if to steady her.

"You feel warm, Yor," she said, pressing her hand to Yor's forehead. "You might be getting sick. You should go home. No need to get the rest of us sick too."

"Oh," Yor said faintly. "Yes, that's probably best then."

After a quick word with the boss, she was let go and made her way home slowly. Her head had started pounding too, and it was getting harder to walk straight. Yor wanted nothing more than to lay in her bed. Maybe then her side would stop aching so much.

When she finally got back to the apartment, she dropped her purse haphazardly by the door and pulled off her coat. She did feel warm, and confined. A sheen of sweat had broken out over her skin. She would get herself a glass of water and then go to bed, she decided, trudging toward the kitchen.

At that moment though, the door opened and she spun around, seeing Loid returning, closing and locking the door behind him. He set his hat on the rack and was about to pull his gloves off when he turned, noticing Yor, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Yor? You're home early…"

"I—um, I didn't feel very good, so they let me go home," she said quietly. Maybe if Loid thought she was sick she could hide herself in her room under the excuse that she didn't want to get them sick too.

Loid frowned. "You did look a little pale this morning," he said, taking a step forward. "Do you…need to see a doctor?"

"No," Yor said quickly, shaking her head as she held out a hand to stop him from getting closer. That just made her dizzy and she swayed. "I just…need to lay down for a little while. I'll be fine…"

Even as she said it, she felt herself leaning. The room spun and she was suddenly falling.

"Yor!"

The last thing she was aware of was a solid form stepping in front of her, arms winding around her waist to keep her upright. Unfortunately, they only managed to brush her wound and the pain that slammed through her was enough to send her crashing into darkness.

Loid took a moment to process Yor's weight collapsing against him before he instinctively, gathered her into his arms and carried her to her room. She was rather warm, he noticed; a fever then? He laid her down and flipped on the lights so he could better see in case…in case, what? Yor was obviously just sick, right? Probably overdid herself. He should get her a cool cloth and coax her into coming back around.

However, something caught his eye before he could leave the room. A small patch of red on the side of her blouse.

Frowning, Loid bent over the bed, reaching out to lift up the edge of Yor's shirt.

He wasn't sure what he had expected, but it wasn't this.

Bandages had been sloppily taped over the area above her right hip. Bandages that were crusted in blood.

Horrified and bewildered, Loid peeled them back and found an inflamed cut marring the pale flesh, reddened and infected. How the hell had she managed to get this?

Instinctively, he prodded the injury, watching as it bled sluggishly and a whimper escaped Yor as she jolted, pulling away. Her eyes fluttered open and suddenly landed on him.

"L-Loid!" she gasped, and shifted further away, tugging her shirt down, looking horrified. The movement only seemed to cause her more pain, however, and Loid reached out to grip her shoulder as she bit her lip.

"It's all right," he murmured, still shocked but trying to keep calm for the moment so as not to agitate the woman anymore. "It's gotten infected, and I'll need to clean it."

"N-no, I can…"

"Yor," Loid said in a firm voice. "Let me do it."

Her eyes were wide and…scared? But she pressed her lips together and nodded, shaking on the bed.

"I'll be right back," he said and left the room, a million questions running through his head.

Yor trembled on the bed, her head still spinning slightly. Loid knew. He would find her out now for sure—that she wasn't who she said she was. What was she going to do? Ideally, she should run now while she still had the chance. Before he called the SSS…

But she couldn't even sit up without her head spinning and the pain in her side taking her breath away, so she simply lay there against her pillows.

The door opened again and she squeaked but it was just Loid with the medical kit, a towel, and a basin of water, all of which he set out of the side table.

A second towel appeared from over his arm and he carefully placed it on the bed.

"Lay down," he instructed. "Could you take your shirt off?"

Yor stared at him in shock, face flaming more than it had with the fever. Loid seemed to realize what he had said and his own face heated.

"I—for easier access," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to sound so foreword."

"I, um, yes," Yor replied, quickly looking down as her face burned, fumbling with the buttons on her blouse while Loid busied himself with the first aid kit, slipping on a pair of gloves.

When Yor was done, sliding her arm on her injured side out of her sleeve, Loid cleared his throat and sat on the edge of the bed with some cotton and antiseptic.

"I'll clean it first and then see if it needs stitches," he said.

Yor swallowed hard but nodded, trying to lay back as Loid began cleaning her wound. It hurt so much, she lashed out and grabbed his wrist in a crushing grip, panting.

"Yor!" Loid grunted, eyes wide.

Yor felt the bones in his wrist shift, but forced herself to let go. He wasn't hurting her on purpose, she reminded herself. He was trying to help. Instead she clenched her hands in the sheets, tightening her jaw.

Loid continued in silence for a while before he took a deep breath and asked, "Yor, how did you come by this wound?"

She froze, the fever swirling around in her head as she imagined what he would say if she told him the truth. She couldn't tell him the truth. That would ruin everything. Not only would it compromise her own position, but it could put Loid and Anya in danger.

"Yor."

Her lip trembled and she finally settled on an explanation that seemed legitimate enough. "I—yesterday…there was a protest on my way home from work."

Loid frowned, but continued working. Yor pressed on. "I tried to get through them but things were getting heated. I think someone pulled a knife. I didn't realize what had happened until I was out of the press."

"You were cut during a riot?" Loid asked.

"Yes?" Yor replied, hoping she sounded confident enough.

"Why didn't you go to the hospital?"

Yor quickly searched for an answer. "Because…because I was afraid that…that they would think I was there on purpose and have me interrogated. And I was afraid that would look bad on you, Loid, and I couldn't stand if I brought trouble on you and Miss Anya." Tears wet her eyes as she tried to blink them away, sniffing. That, at least was the truth, even though her secret was a lot darker than that.

"Yor," Loid said gently, and she was surprised to feel a thumb brush the tears aside after a moment. Her eyes fluttered open and stared up at the man leaning over her, his face all kindness, the way he looked at Anya. "That was very selfless of you," he told her as she sniffed. "But when it comes to this sort of thing, I wish that you would come to me at least, okay? You can trust me, Yor. We can trust each other."

Something fluttered in her stomach as her chest and face warmed, and Yor fought the urge to cover her face in her hands, feeling extra exposed right now with her shirt only half on in front of Loid while he looked at her like this and—oh—when his skin brushed her side as he cleaned up the last of the blood…

"I'm sorry," she whispered, sniffing again.

"Please just try to rest," Loid told her quietly as he turned back to the medical kit. "Luckily, it's a clean cut that probably won't scar too badly, and I don't think you'll need stitches either."

He finished patching her up, applying fresh bandages, and Yor blushed each time his fingers brushed her skin, but finally, it was done and he pulled a blanket over top of her before he left the room.

Yor drifted for a moment, before Loid returned with a glass of water and some pills.

"Take these," he told her, helping her sit up. Yor did as he said, swallowing down the medicine and allowed Loid to tuck her more firmly into the bed.

"Get some rest," he told her. "I'll be back to check on you later."

Yor nodded wearily and sank further into her pillows, finally feeling comfortable. She felt the sudden urge to call out to Loid before he could close the door though.

"Loid?"

"Hm?"

Her eyes drooped. "I'm glad I married you," she murmured.

She thought she saw Loid smile before he closed the door and she finally drifted off, feeling safer than she thought she ever had before.