It started sometime after dinner. The food had tasted a little off — but you and Yelena had both been too tired from the last mission to care. By the time you realized something was wrong, your stomach felt like it was twisting itself in knots.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over, arms wrapped around your middle, cold sweat collecting at your temples.

Yelena noticed instantly. “Hey,” she said, her voice losing its usual teasing tone. “You don’t look good.”

You tried to wave her off, but your voice came out small and shaky. “I think… the food…”

That was all it took. She was at your side in seconds, hand hovering near your back, unsure if touching would help or make it worse. “You’re sick?” she asked, concern tightening her accent.

You nodded weakly, squeezing your eyes shut as another wave of nausea rolled through.

She didn’t hesitate. She grabbed a trash bin, water bottle, and dampened a towel at the sink, working with that quiet efficiency she usually reserved for missions. But now, it wasn’t mission mode — it was something softer.

“Easy, detka,” she murmured, sitting beside you. “Breathe. Slow, okay? I’ve got you.”

The next hour was miserable. Every time your stomach lurched, she was there — holding your hair back, rubbing small circles between your shoulders, whispering things in Russian that sounded like lullabies. You didn’t understand the words, but the tone — steady, protective — was enough.

At some point, when it eased a little, you leaned weakly against her shoulder. “Sorry,” you mumbled, voice barely audible. “You didn’t sign up for this.”

She scoffed softly. “What are you talking about? You think I’m leaving you like this? Not a chance.”

You let out a shaky breath that was half a laugh. “You’re too good to me.”

“Maybe,” she said, brushing her thumb across your forehead, checking for fever. “Or maybe I just like proving that I can take care of you better than anyone else.”

Her touch was cool and grounding, her hand finding yours and squeezing gently.

“Sleep, moya lyubov’,” she whispered finally, pulling the blanket over you once she was sure the worst had passed. “I’ll stay right here.”