#ive made myself like Kevin now and i almost gave myself a concussion when he showed up in ep 100 bc i was excited to hear him again

[v0id-do0dles]

I LOVE WELCOME TO NIGHT VALE !!!!!!

I have changed my design for Kevin just a tad since I made this

Omg I just saw on my Instagram that I had just finished ep 38 when I finished this omgggg (I just finished ep 101 when I'm posting this on here lmao)

Also also the background is not by me - BUT I did change the Desert Bluffs one a bit so that they can match in style

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Vital Signs, pt24

Word Count: 1814 Tags: @to-pick-ourselves-up-7 @outside-the-government, @jimfromsales, @donnaintx, @enterprisewriting @starmission @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @flirtswithdanger

I awoke with a start, my heart racing. I could feel Steve’s heart beating under my hand, and his slow even breathing told me he was still asleep, so I had at least not wakened screaming. But my heart was racing, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I couldn’t remember what I’d dreamed about either, which was unusual. As my breathing returned to normal, my head started to throb, like it was being crushed in a vice. I sat up, and gasped. And I still couldn’t catch my breath.

I staggered to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. The pain in my head was getting worse, and I tried to think if I’d done anything in particular to cause it. I heard Steve stirring in our bed.

“You okay?” He mumbled from the dark.

“Headache.” I managed the one word before I forced myself to lie down on the cold tile of the bathroom floor. I heard Steve make his way toward me, and then drop to his knees suddenly.

“Hey, are you sure you’re alright?” He ran his hand down my back and then tried to push my hair off my face. I cringed away from his touch when he neared my forehead.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. He ran a washcloth under the tap and pressed it against my forehead. The cold was searing and painful, then soothing. I sighed, frustrated.

“Do you trust the new CMO?” Steve asked, rubbing the small of my back. I nodded weakly. He lifted me into his arms, and carried me out of the bathroom. He paused long enough to slip on his runners, readjusting me in his arms, and carried me toward the infirmary. The motion made my stomach turn, and I gagged on the bile rising in the back of my throat.

The infirmary lights were so bright that I turned my face into Steve’s chest and whimpered. He walked directly to the nearest bed and laid me down, drawing the curtain and dimming the examination lights so that I was able to tolerate the brightness.

“Can you get Dr. Morrison?” Steve asked Derek, quietly.

“What’s going on?” Derek asked.

“She said she has a headache, and I found her on the floor in the bathroom. She’s barely responding to me. She got that concussion in New York.” Steve was brief. He sat down on the edge of the bed and kept rubbing my back. I could hear Derek talking quietly to someone on the phone.

“Okay, Lex. I’m going to start an IV. Kevin will be here in just a minute. We’re going to test drive all that new charting software on you, starting with labs and an MRI. Did you have any follow-up after your discharge from Midtown?” Derek was efficient, speaking as he ran through the initial assessment.

“No. I was supposed to have a second MRI last week, but I got busy with this project with Stark.” My voice was whisper quiet. I tried to sit up and was immediately hit with such a huge wave of nausea that I laid back down. Steve put another cool cloth across my forehead. I tilted my head to smile at him, but couldn’t focus my vision. I could tell he hadn’t stopped to get dressed though. I could make out the blur of his plaid pajama bottoms slung low across his hips.

“You must be cold.” I placed my hand on his chest. He bent down and kissed my forehead.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve been colder.” There was more than a hint of irony in his tone. I smiled weakly. Dr. Morrison pulled back the curtain.

“Let’s get you into the MRI, Lex.” He flashed a penlight across my eyes. I flinched again. Kevin motioned to Derek to help me down to the MRI, but Steve waved him off and picked me up again. I was in too much pain to protest. He laid me on the MRI cot and stepped out of the room.

“You know the drill, Lex. Hold still. We’re just going to scan your head so it shouldn’t be long.” Kevin’s voice came through the speaker.

“Focus on my occipital. There was quite a bit of swelling there from the concussion, maybe we missed a bleed,” I mumbled. The machine roared to life around me. I closed my eyes again and focused on breathing as the cot moved forward for the scan. When the scan was over, Steve carried me back to the exam room, and Derek gave me something for pain. I slipped back to sleep.

Steve was sitting at the bedside, head down on the bed, snoring lightly. He was still in his pajamas, and despite his facetious comment about having been colder, there were goose bumps playing across his shoulders. I closed my eyes and then looked at him again. My vision was clear, and he was in focus. I reached over and ran my fingers through his hair. He stirred, and sat up. When he saw I was awake, he smiled in relief.

“Welcome back.” He squeezed my hand. I returned his smiled and then looked past him and noticed there was a window. And I was looking across the New York skyline.

“What happened?” I asked. My head felt heavy and I was exhausted.

“You were right. You had a bleed in your occipital. Thankfully small. Dr. Morrison sedated you, and transported you to the Hub for emergency surgery,” he explained.

“How long?” I asked.

“You’ve been in and out for the last week.”

“And you haven’t got changed yet? Has my sense of smell been affected? You should reek,” I stated. Steve laughed, the look of relief so palpable it was alarming.

“I had a shower before I came up this morning. I just had a feeling I shouldn’t waste time this morning, and didn’t bother getting dressed.” He touched my face and looked so sad, “I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m right here.” I put my hand over his, and closed my eyes. I was so very tired. I felt his forehead touch mine, and he kissed me gently. Someone at the door cleared her throat. At one point in our relationship, we probably would have pulled apart like we’d been burned, but Steve was slow to withdraw his touch. I looked over at the doctor waiting at the door.

“Dr. Richmond, you’ve given Captain Rogers quite the scare,” she admonished. I smiled weakly.

“Keeps him young.” I squeezed his hand, and he shook his head, smiling.

“I suppose you want the straight story, no sugar coating. Your colleagues suggest you are the kind of person who doesn’t waste words when they aren’t necessary. I am Dr. Jane McAndrews, and I am the head of neurosurgery for SHIELD. You had a bleed in the occipital. I understand you actually diagnosed it?” She paused.

“No, I just suggested that was where to start looking, based on my MRI after my concussion.”

“At any rate, we needed to surgically decompress the site. I irrigated and cauterized the vessel. You’re lucky it was a small tear and slow bleed, or you could be dead. As it was, the clot was quite large when we opened you up. Your recovery has been unremarkable. I expect you’ll need a few weeks of rest, with no exertion. Physio will be in this afternoon to assess you, and ensure there has been no long-term damage. All our neurological tests so far have suggested you will have a full recovery,” she explained.

“Thank you, Dr. McAndrews,” I nodded. I struggled to push myself up to sitting. Steve leaned over and helped me, and then elevated the head of the bed to support me.

“So she should be fine?” Steve asked. He was pale and looked exhausted. I didn’t think it was possible for him to get exhausted. The super soldier serum should have negated that and allowed him to get by on much less sleep. That was the first sign I had that I might not be getting the full story about my injury.

“I’m cautiously optimistic that there will be no ill-effects. We’ll see what happens with physio this afternoon.” Dr. McAndrews was fairly non-committal. I glanced at Steve and back to the doctor.

“Steve, can you get my a glass of water?” I asked. He nodded and slipped out of the room. I turned my gaze on the doctor.

“What aren’t you telling him?” I demanded.

“We lost you a number of times during surgery. Quite frankly, I’m astonished you made it through the surgery, let alone woke. It will be a long road to recovery, and I’m hesitant to suggest that you will ever practice medicine again,” she spoke quickly and quietly, glancing toward the door with every phrase. My heart started to pound.

“What do you mean?” I could feel the panic rising in my chest. I couldn’t imagine what I would be without my career. Would SHIELD even have a place for me? Where would I go? What would happen? Would Steve still want to be with me, if I was an invalid?

“Time will tell, Dr. Richmond. I don’t want to dash your hopes, but I also want you to remain realistic. You’ve had a serious head injury. We won’t know how badly you’ve been injured for months. For what it’s worth, I am the best in the country. My technique is precise and my part of the surgery was flawless. How is your vision?” She glanced over her shoulder again.

“Clear, in focus,” I answered honestly. She nodded.

“That’s a good sign. The bleed was contained in the occipital, so I’ve high hopes that nothing else should be affected. But Director Fury knows you won’t be back to work for a long while, if ever. You should anticipate a visit from him soon, now that you’re awake.” She stopped speaking abruptly, and Steve rounded the corner into the room moments later.

“Thank you, Doctor,” I hoped she understood that I’d dismissed her. She collected my chart and left the room. Steve sat down beside me, and handed me the cup. He waited until I was drinking before he spoke.

“She doesn’t think you’ll work again.” It was a question.

“You heard everything, didn’t you?”

“I’m not stupid, Lex. I knew why you sent me away.”

“What happens if I’m sidelined forever?” My words were a whisper. Steve pulled me into his arms.

“You’re too valuable to sideline. Fury will find a use for you, one way or another.” He almost sounded angry with that. I leaned into his arms.

“And you?” I asked. He buried his face in my hair and sighed.

“I’ve cast my lot. I love you, Alexandra. That won’t change.” I felt a tear slip down my cheek and leaned into his embrace, relieved.