"Steve, any doctor on staff at the hospital would tell you the exact same thing that I have!" Kayla insisted as Steve rolled his eye.

"Anyone of 'em but Doctor Tripp Johnson, though, right baby?" he snapped. "He was content not to say a damn word about this, Kayla. At least not until he got the go-ahead from you!"

"Steve-"

"No, baby." Running his hand over his face, he shook his head, then handed Kayla the shirt again. "Look, just get dressed so we can get the hell out of here and get you to the hospital."

"And you can get out of being mad at me?" Kayla scoffed. Balling up the shirt, she threw it back into Steve's closet. "Or at least get your mind off the fact that you are?"

"Sweetness-"

"You're allowed to be, you know," she said in a smaller voice. "I'm mad at myself. Telling Tripp to keep quiet, putting that on him. It was wrong, and I hated doing it. I just couldn't bear the thought of putting anything more on you!"

"Well, I can't bear being kept in the dark about you, Kayla!" Steve roared as she nodded, swallowing back the lump in her throat.

"I know. And I put you there anyway. And I'm sorry."

"You told me what happened, but not before you tied us all up in knots here trying not to!"

"I was just trying to protect you!"

"Baby...," Steve sighed.

"I know. Whenever you tell me that, it makes me insane," Kayla groaned, running both hands up through her hair and pressing the heels of her hands to her temples.

"Here I am, though," she squeaked. "Doing the exact same thing."

When her eyes welled up, turning that too-bright blue that hurt his eye to look at, his frustration giving way to fatigue and just plain heartache, Steve joined Kayla back on the bed and, on reflex, started rubbing slow circles on her upper back.

"I gotta tell you; it's throwing me being on the other side of this fight, Sweetness," he said after a beat.

"You got your playbook handy by any chance?"

"No. No playbook," Kayla sniffled, pulling a crumpled, sad excuse for a tissue from her robe pocket. Looking on disapprovingly, Steve got to his feet.

Cutting over to the nightstand to grab the Kleenex, then flashing to a particular afternoon in his wife's office, a smirk filling his face, he picked up the tissue box and lobbed it at Kayla's left shoulder.

"What the…!" she sputtered.

Picking up the box, Kayla looked from it to Steve and back again, gape-mouthed.

"You're gonna catch flies if you're not careful there, baby."

"Did you actually just-"

"Not so fun being on the receiving end now, is it?" Steve asked, joining her back on the bed.

"What are you talking about, 'receiving end'?" Kayla asked, hitting at him with the box. Grabbing it from her, asking whatever happened to 'do no harm,' Steve returned it to the nightstand.

"Tell me. When did I ever throw something at-"

"In your office from behind your desk," Steve reminded. "The day you told me that the danger that follows me follows the both of us," he said as her face fell.

"You said we should share it, Sweetness. That we were a team and that anything that was a threat to us, we had to work together to wipe out."

"So the box wasn't enough? I have you throwing my words at me, too?" Kayla sighed as Steve reached over and gently turned her face toward his.

"They were some pretty smart words, baby," he said, thumbing a tear off her cheek.

"Steve..."

"We are sharing this, Kayla. We have been since we watched that maniac's goddamn tape, so you can't go shutting me out now. Not when that filthy pig has played around and fucked with and done his best to end our life together, Sweetness. Yours and mine!" Steve said roughly.

"I may not be the one lying here sick with a fever, baby, but you know-"

"Of course I do," Kayla choked out. Covering the back of Steve's hand with hers, she turned her head to kiss his palm.

"I know if this were all up to you, it'd be the other way around. You'd be the one who was-"

Trailing off, shuddering at the thought, picking up on her distress Steve stroked her hair comfortingly.

"Well, I know how much you like seeing me all hot and sweaty, baby."

Rolling her eyes, Kayla cleared her throat, only to give a coughing fit the all-clear.

Covering her mouth, willing herself not to start wheezing when her chest felt tight, she didn't pick up on Steve moving off the bed until he returned moments later, shakily holding a glass of water for her.

"Shh. Here you go, Sweetness."

Hearing the panicky edge to his voice, seeing the tremor in his hand gripping the water glass –before half its contents spilled out and onto her lap– startled out of her coughing by the state her husband was in, Kayla looked on as he swore, apologized, swore again, then tried to towel her off with a throw blanket.

"Steve, stop-"

"No, it's fine, just lemme grab a towel, baby-"

"Steve!"

Grabbing his arm right as he got up from bed, when he stood frozen in place but trembling, Kayla stood up in turn and moved to stand in front of him.

"Steve-"

"Just get back into bed now, baby, c'mon," he pleaded, bowing his head as Kayla shook hers stubbornly, running her thumb over the back of his hand laced with hers.

"You need your rest, Sweetness. You need to-"

"I need you to give yourself a break," she cut in, stepping closer to him.

"Kayla, don't-"

"It's okay..." she soothed as Steve shook his head.

"Sweetness..."

"C'mere," she coaxed. "C'mon."

Looping her arm up around Steve's neck, Kayla pulled him close. When he finally broke down and buried his face in her shoulder, she rubbed at his back and did her best to calm him as he cried in her arms, content to cling to her for dear life.

"Shhh, I've got you, baby. I'm here. I've got you."

"Kayla..."

"I've got you."

She stood holding him tight until he finally pulled back, looking as spent and exhausted as she felt. Examining his hand, relieved to see it wasn't quivering anymore, Kayla took his pulse on reflex.

"Did I pass inspection, baby?"

"Strong and steady."

"Well, Dr. Johnson's got that magic touch."

Smiling as she stepped around him, Kayla tugged at his hand and nodded for him to follow her.

"Hang on, now. Where-"

"Well, you got us started on a bath already. And I know I'm a mess that could use cleaning up," she reminded, giving him a soft smile. "C'mon."

"Baby, are you sure up for- "

"A bath with my husband? You and I pulling ourselves together before our kids show up at the door? Yes. I am. I-"

"Hey now, easy. No need to twist my arm that hard, baby," Steve lightly laughed as Kayla abruptly dropped his hand, then apologized, then realized when he burst out laughing exactly what she'd just done.

"Sweetness-"

"Shut up."

Running her hand over her face in embarrassment, Kayla shook her head as Steve continued to laugh.

"I didn't mean literally, baby!"

"I know that! I... just...you...I know," Folding her arms, she stamped her foot in a half-hearted, pouty protest.

"I'm tired," she whined as Steve's smile went sad.

"I know, baby."

Stepping closer, he slipped his arm around her waist as she leaned against him.

"I'm so tired," she repeated as Steve scooped her up, then carried her to the master bath barely a few feet away from them. Rather than arguing, though, Kayla snuggled against his shoulder, too worn out to argue and too content in his arms to care.