A/N: Listen I have a weakness for injured characters sleeping while someone they love sits nearby keeping vigil; it is my all-time favorite trope and I'm fairly certain it appears somewhere in almost every fic I've written.
It's about the tenderness, okay? It's about the vulnerability. It's about the pure love and loyalty.
Okay I'm normal again. *Goes quietly feral*
The taxi driver was not especially pleased to be sent away without a fare, but he was quickly mollified when Jarvis gave him a hefty tip for his troubles.
With barely concealed delight at being able to see this mission through to the end, the butler loaded his friend's luggage into the back of the car, and a few moments later they were on the road.
"Ana's all settled, then?" Peggy asked conversationally as the palm trees whizzed by outside the window.
"Resting comfortably with a cup of tea and a good book." Jarvis said. He smiled fondly. "Though I expect she'll be sleeping when I get back. She took her midday dose of pain medication before I left. It's proven to be rather a strong sedative."
"I'd imagine sleep is the best thing for her right now." Peggy said.
"Quite so." Jarvis agreed.
After dropping Peggy at the SSR headquarters—and spending a good few minutes entreating her to change her mind about leaving—Jarvis made a stop off at the store to pick up a few things, before heading back to the Stark mansion.
When he arrived home, he found Ana, as he had expected, sound asleep in their suite in the mansion's east wing. She was curled up on the plush sofa in the den outside their bedroom, lying on her side with a small decorative pillow clutched to her stomach. The book she had been reading had slipped from her grasp and landed haphazardly on the rug.
Jarvis picked up the book and placed it on the coffee table beside the half-empty cup of tea that had long since gone cold, then he turned back to his wife and leaned down to plant a soft kiss on her forehead. She stirred slightly, but didn't wake, and Jarvis gently stroked her auburn hair and cupped her cheek in his hand, smiling down at her with pure adoration in his eyes. She looked so sweet, and so peaceful, and Jarvis felt an ache in his chest at the sight of her; he loved her so much, and he couldn't bear the thought of how close he had come to losing her.
Breaking out of his reverie, Jarvis moved around the coffee table, picking up a folded newspaper as he did so, and sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs across from the sofa. He had no pressing duties at the moment; Mr. Stark had insisted he take some time to spend with his wife, and Jarvis intended to do exactly that, even if that meant simply being near her while she slept.
Opening the newspaper, he leafed through it until he found something that caught his interest, and he settled himself in and began to read.
The light outside the windows was a dusky orange, bathing the room in the warm glow of early evening. Ana had turned in her sleep so that she was now lying on her back. All at once her eyelids began to flutter; her breathing quickened, her hands grasped for something that wasn't there, and she flinched before suddenly coming awake with a gasp.
Jarvis lowered his newspaper and looked over at her with a worried expression. "Darling are you all right?"
"Mm," Ana mumbled. "Bad dream."
She pushed herself carefully into a sitting position and drew her knees up to her chest, and Jarvis stood and came over to her.
"I had hoped the medication would help you sleep well enough to avoid such unpleasantness," he murmured, pressing a hand to her cheek as she looked up at him with a bleary smile.
"It usually does," she reached up to grasp his hand with her own. "But sometimes the dreams just…slip through."
Jarvis frowned, worry lines creasing his forehead, and Ana squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I'm all right now," she insisted.
He didn't seem entirely convinced, but he let it be for now, his hand lingering on her face for a moment longer before he turned and made his way over to the nearby credenza, where he had a kettle and two teacups waiting.
"How long did I sleep?" Ana asked around a yawn.
"Better part of the afternoon." Jarvis said over his shoulder as he poured the tea. He nodded to the window. "It's nearly six."
He was just reaching for the spoon to stir in a bit of sugar when the phone rang in the next room.
"I'll get that." Jarvis left the tea for the moment and went over to pick up the receiver. "Stark residence."
He was silent for a moment, listening, and Ana saw her husband's shoulders suddenly stiffen. "Good lord," he breathed. "Yes, I…uh, yes certainly, anything you and Miss Carter need, Chief Sousa."
He hung up the phone and came back into the den, and Ana regarded him with alarmed curiosity.
"Darling, what is it?"
He hesitated for an instant, unsure of whether he ought to share it with her; he wanted their peaceful afternoon together to continue uninterrupted, he wanted to keep the world at bay for her for just a little bit longer. But it was already too late for that.
She raised her eyebrows expectantly, and Jarvis braced himself and delivered the news.
"Chief Thompson's been shot."