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Post by misfit on Oct 2, 2022 23:45:41 GMT -5
Evening everyone! Thank you so much for all the kind words and feedback! Banter is fun for me to write so I blend it in a lot. This chapter's no exception but caution for angst (and some swearing) ahead.
Ch. 3
Once inside the apartment, Steve set Kayla on the couch before fluffing the throw pillows, motioning for her to lie down as she shook her head.
"Is your back okay?" she asked.
"My back's just fine, baby. C'mon though, you should try and get some rest."
"No, Steve," she said stubbornly, perching on the edge of the couch.
Shaking his head, Steve tucked a throw pillow behind her back.
"Honestly, I'm not even tired. And even if I was, if I fall asleep here my neck and shoulders will just scream at me about it later."
"Well, that's what a patented Steven Earl Johnson massage is for."
Kneeling down, he helped his wife out of her shoes.
"My feet aren't sore, you know."
"Just freeing those piggies of yours, baby."
Smiling sadly, Kayla reached over and stroked Steve's hair before he took hold of her hand, kissing it.
"C'mere, you," she coaxed as he joined her on the couch.
"Seeing stars anymore, Sweetness?"
"Nope," Kayla said, shifting closer to him until they were nose to nose.
"Still a little weak-kneed though, looking at you," she said with a grin before leaning in to kiss him. It started soft and sweet, but the moment she tried to make it more passionate, Steve pulled away.
"Steve, what-"
"No, you got me all distracted here, baby," he said nervously, rubbing her thigh as he stood up.
"Steve..."
"Hey, we said we'd have some cocoa, remember?"
He gave her a peck on the cheek, but to Kayla, it felt like he couldn't get away from her and over to the kitchen fast enough.
"Yeah," she sighed, bracing herself on the arm of the couch before standing up. "You get it ready then. I'll go get changed."
Hearing her pad down the hall into the bedroom, not shutting the door behind her to his relief, Steve grabbed a saucepan and a wooden spoon before he started rifling through the cupboards.
"You use up all the cocoa powder, Sweetness?" he called, keeping his ears open for her reply.
"There should still be some in the pantry, I think. Why do you need it?"
"I'm making cocoa, baby!" he laughed, shaking his head.
"Yes, I'm aware of that. But there's some instant in the cupboard above the-"
"Oh no, no way, baby. If I'm going to the trouble of making this for us, I'm gonna make it right."
After throwing the instant in the trash can where it belonged, Steve started retrieving the ingredients and arranging them neatly on the counter.
"Yeah, we gotta have the chocolate chips, the whole milk. That powdered freeze-dried crap doesn't count."
"It does when you're counting calories!"
"You cut that out, baby," Steve scoffed, shaking his head as he started fixing the cocoa on top of the stove. Stirring it with one hand, he grabbed his harmonica from his pocket with the other.
"First stir in the cocoa…
Then stir in the cream…
Mix it up on the stove…
Make it taste like a dream…."
Hearing the improvised tune echoing through the wall, making her way to the front undetected, Kayla leaned against the fridge. Softly smiled at the sight familiar enough to break her heart. Steve was buzzing and bopping around the kitchen, pouring his nervous energy and emotions into blowing his harp and playing gourmet. She took comfort in him trying to cope in the best ways he knew but raged at the fact he had to.
Knowing she had to combat that rage or at least try to, coming out from her hiding place, she grabbed a bag of mini marshmallows from the pantry, waving it teasingly in front of her husband.
"Can't forget these," she said as he grinned.
"I wouldn't dare, baby. Bring 'em over to the couch and get comfy. I'll be right there."
Seeing him grab the Reddi Whip from the fridge but keeping her mouth, presently stuffed with marshmallow, shut, Kayla curled up on the couch as Steve crossed the room, mugs in hand and whipped cream canister under his arm.
"Something sweet for my Sweetness," he riffed on the harmonica after handing her cocoa over, loading it up with whipped cream before she could stop him.
"Leave it to you to serenade me into a sugar high," she smirked as Steve flopped back on the couch, arching a brow.
"Hey, don't blame all that rush on me, baby."
Reaching for the marshmallow bag, Steve waved it at her.
"This was more than half full a few minutes ago," he smirked before sampling some whipped cream straight from the nozzle.
Rolling her eyes, Kayla sipped her cocoa but got a fair amount of the whipped cream dollop on the tip of her nose. Getting Steve pointing and laughing.
"Oh, baby…"
"What? What is it?"
Her obliviousness cracking him up more, Steve shifted closer.
"Does whipped cream smell as good as it tastes, Sweetness?" he asked, grabbing his phone and reversing the camera so Kayla could see herself.
"Oh my God," she groaned as Steve moved in, snapping a selfie of them.
"Oh, you get rid of that now! Right now!"
"Lemme get rid of this first for you, baby," he chuckled, thumbing the whipped cream off her nose.
"Then I'll see about making the photo evidence go awa-"
Interrupted by Kayla sneezing twice in a row, then breaking into a coughing fit, when Steve went to get her some water, she shook her head, taking a tight grip on his arm.
"It's okay, really. I'm fine, I…. I'm fine."
With the crack in her voice, her hold on his bicep, and her looking down and away, making it abundantly clear she wasn't fine, Steve swallowed hard and shifted back towards his wife, stroking her hair.
When she kept her head bowed, kept repeating herself, tears sprang to his eye, but he blinked them back.
"Sweetness," he sighed. "You can say it over and over, but it's not gonna make it tr-"
Shaking her head, Kayla swallowed hard, then let go of her husband's arm and shifted closer to the couch's.
"You know I should really call the hospital."
"Baby-"
"No, your phone made me think of it," she said quickly. "I really should check in with John and Roman. See if Kate and Marlena are presenting with any new symptoms."
"Yeah, that's a good ide-"
"Even if they aren't, we'll need to get a hold of the ISA lab regardless to make sure they're up to date. I mean, if there's been any change in their conditions, and the lab doesn't know about it-"
"Sweetness, I'm sure the ISA's being kept in the loop, or at least doing everything in their damn power to make sure they are," Steve argued as Kayla shook her head.
"In the loop's not enough, Steve," she scoffed. "I promised them hourly reports to make sure they had the most up to date information. It's been, what now, three hours since we left the hospital?"
"Yeah, and if I had to guess three reports have been run over to that lab. You chief a staff of brainiacs, baby. They'll come through for you."
"I still want to check in with John and Roman," Kayla said, in a tone that Steve knew better than to argue with, though at that moment, he was uncharacteristically tempted to. Taking a breath, he waited a beat before responding.
"Okay. Let me try John now, see if-"
"No, just let me do it. Let me," Kayla insisted, getting a frown.
"Kayla, it's just a call to my partner. Why are you-"
"John can read me Marlena's chart, Steve."
"He can read it off to me, too, baby. It's not written in Swahili!" Steve snapped as Kayla's eyes narrowed.
"If there's anything medical that jumps out as new or noteworthy, I can update the ISA lab right away and-"
"Cut out the non MD middle man. I got it."
"Steve!"
He regretted the smart remark as soon as he said it, but when he tried to shift closer to his wife, offer an apology, rub her shoulders that were practically up around her ears, she shied away, then stood up with the aid of the couch arm.
"Kayla-"
"I'm fine," she said dismissively. "I just need to get my phone."
"Sweetness here, just use mine-"
Shaking her head, crossing the room to the kitchen table for her purse, she started rifling through it.
"Damn it, where the hell did I…."
"Here, I'll call it."
"No, it's gotta be in the car. That's the only place I…unless it's in my…S***."
Ready to smack herself upside the head with her hand not gripping the kitchen table, Kayla shook her head miserably.
"Guess that's a sign I should've just stayed, right?" she choked out, her free hand going to her hair as Steve approached.
"What?" he asked, not having heard her. When Kayla kept avoiding his eyes, though, then turned away from him all together, his frustration from earlier came bubbling right back up.
"Kayla, baby I didn't hear you. Now what-"
"I left my phone at the damn hospital, Steve!" she exclaimed, turning back towards him.
"After telling everyone that they could reach me at home, to give me updates. God, if the lab or the guys-"
"You mean the lab and the guys who have my number, too?" Steve reminded as Kayla's eyes narrowed in a glare.
"I instructed my staff to call me," she said coldly. "If I hadn't been so busy making a goddamn spectacle of us in front of them with my big dramatic exit, I'd have my phone here!" she cried. "I'd be available for them the way I promised that I-"
"Oh, you promised you'd be available, baby?" Steve repeated, laughing bitterly as he shook his head.
"What, you send out a little memo? Tell all your brainiacs and the board members and the dudes that clean the bedpans they can just call up the boss, shoot the breeze with her the day she finds out she's been freaking poisoned to death!"
Bowing her head, blinking back tears, Kayla bit her lip and clutched the table tighter. A last-ditch effort to keep the sob she'd been choking back since the elevator at bay, just for a bit longer.
Her avoidance fueling his emotions that were already in overdrive, looking down and away from Kayla in turn, Steve grabbed his keys.
"Guess I'll just go and get your goddamn phone then, Kayla," he said roughly. "I mean, of all the problems we're dealing with right now, at least getting your phone out of a freaking locked desk is a pretty goddamned fixable one, right?! I-"
Catching himself, hearing himself, Steve's voice broke and trailed off before he even touched the doorknob. Laughing bitterly to keep from crying or putting his head through the wall, though he slammed his hand against it twice, he leaned his head against the door frame.
He felt defeated, but took some comfort knowing he hadn't done the dumbest thing possible at that moment; walked out on the only woman he'd ever loved the day she needed him with her the most.
Letting his shoulders sag, Steve took a deep breath and came back to himself, just in time to hear a gut-wrenching sob overtake his wife.
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