C/W: emetophobia, use of the word "tummy", fahrenheit
Travis knew something was up with Taylor when she was still in bed by the time he left for practice. Not wanting to disturb her, he just leaves her with a gentle kiss to the forehead, making a brief mental note of how warm she feels, but just assuming it was because she was cocooned under every blanket on his bed.
He's generally a pretty heavy sleeper, but whenever Tay is next to him, he finds himself unconsciously noticing every little movement and noise she makes, and the fact she scooted away from him in the middle of the night didn't go unnoticed.
Once he gets to the facility, he texts her, letting her know where he is, to call him if she needs anything, and that he loves her.
Taylor wakes about an hour later, feeling like she'd been beaten by five baseball bats at once. Her head hurts, her stomach hurts, everything hurts.
She picks up her phone to check the time. A little after 10. Sees the message from Trav, not quite knowing how to respond. She knows she should be honest, tell him she's not feeling well, maybe ask him to grab her some Tylenol, but she doesn't want to worry him.
He probably already knows, though. So she attempts to text him, despite the light from her phone making her face hurt even more.
Do you think you could pick up some Tylenol after practice? I'm not feeling great.
He responds faster than she expected. Of course! You okay?
Idk. I'm just feeling pretty gross. Think I have a fever.
You felt warm this morning, there's a thermometer in the bathroom if you wanna check.
A smile spreads on Taylor's face at how considerate he is.
I'm just gonna go back to bed, I think. I'll see you when you get home.
Alright, call me if you need me. Love you.
Love you too.
She puts her phone down on the bedside table, laying back down against the pillows. She runs her hands down her face, just feeling like complete and utter shit. Plus, she's starting to get nauseous on top of the full body ache.
Instead of doing what a smart person would do---going and sitting in the bathroom---she just decides to burrow back under the covers and go back to sleep. But she's woken up only half an hour later by her stomach lurching into her throat.
Throwing the covers off her, she just barely making it to the bathroom on time before heaving up everything she'd eaten in the last 24 hours.
She leans her head on her knees, feeling even worse than she did before. She just wants Trav.
Slowly, she picks herself off the floor. Flushing the toilet, and grabbing onto the door frame to steady herself. She texts Travis,
Can you come home please? I just threw up.
I'm at the store, I'll be home in 10. I'm sorry you're feeling so gross.
Her head is so heavy. Doesn't know if she can make it 10 minutes. But he won't care if she's asleep when he gets home. She's sick.
"Hey, I'm home." She feels a hand on her, gently running up and down her shoulder as she fully wakes up.
"Hi."
Travis pulls the covers she'd kicked off herself earlier over her, "how are you feeling?"
"I've been better," she laughs a little, closing her eyes as Travis places the back of his hand on her forehead.
"I got you some Tylenol, just let me know when you're ready to take it. Ginger Ale, too. To help settle your stomach a bit."
Taylor smiles, loves how considerate and caring he is. "Could we just cuddle for a bit?"
"Yeah, of course," He kisses her head again before climbing into bed next to her, letting her settle against his chest. "You're burning up, baby." She's shivering, but the back of her shirt is damp with sweat, and she's really, really warm.
"I feel awful." Taylor groans, burying herself into Trav.
"I know, honey, I'm sorry." He murmurs into her hair. "Are you achey, nauseous, dizzy? What's up?"
She just nods. "Yes, everything. I feel gross."
Trav frowns, continuing to gently rub her back. "I think you might've picked up whatever Jason and Kylie's girls had."
"Ugh, you're so right." Taylor groans, dragging her hands over her face. "They weren't even at the game, it was just Jason and Ky."
"Bugs are just sneaky, though. More so with kids."
"Kids are so not worth it," she curls further into Trav, "I feel so bad."
He chuckles, brushing Taylor's hair out of her face. "I'm sorry, baby. Is there anything I can do?"
She shrugs. "I dunno. Just keep holding me and don't get offended if I throw up on you."
"As long as it's on purpose..."
"Why would it be on purpose." Taylor murmurs, voice slightly muffled by his shirt.
"No clue," he kisses her forehead again, she feels warmer. "Let me check your temperature, sweetie, you feel really warm."
"That's because you're warm." Taylor mumbles.
"Touché, but I know what a fever feels like, and that's definitely what you've got," Travis says into her hair, "and I wanna make sure you don't have anything worse than a little bug, m'kay?"
She just nods into his chest, complaining when he moves away from her, despite him walking only maybe 10 feet to the bathroom, and being back in the bedroom in less than a minute. He sits back down next to her, brushing her bangs out of her face, pressing the thermometer to her forehead, opting for that one over the under-the-tongue one as to not trigger her gag reflex.
"I hate this," Taylor laughs as the thermometer beeps.
"I know you do, honey," he smooths her hair back down before peaking at the thermometer.
"How bad is it?"
"101.2, not terrible, but definitely a fever."
Taylor groans, rolling on her side and wrapping her arms around her stomach.
"You okay?"
Taylor shakes her head, "my tummy hurts..."
"What can I do for you?" Travis asks, gently rubbing circles on her back.
"Could you bring me the trash can?" She takes a deep breath, sitting up, "I'm gonna puke, I think, and I'm too dizzy to get to the bathroom."
"Yeah, of course," he quickly grabs the trash from the corner of the room, placing it next to her, "do you want privacy?"
Taylor just shakes her head again, Travis sitting back down next to her, holding her hair back as she leans over the trash, heaving into it.
"Sorry," she chokes out after a few minutes, reaching for a tissue.
"Don't be," Travis whispers, "you're sick, Tay, it's fine. Are you done?"
She nods, setting the trash can down by the side of the bed.
"Lay down, sweetie, get some rest, I've got you." She weakly complies, letting Travis pull the covers over her.
"Trav?" She mumbles, voice barely above a whisper, "I know you probably have stuff you need to do but could you lay with me and maybe rub my stomach? I don't wanna inconvenience you but I still feel bad and—"
"Of course," Travis says, joining her under the covers. "It's never an inconvenience, baby. That's what I'm here for, to rub your tummy and make you feel better."
Taylor smiles the best she can, "love you."
"Love you, too. Sleep tight."
a/n
does this suck? yes. is it proofread? no. am i posting it anyway? yes.
