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The loud knocking resonated in his skull like a jackhammer. He rolled over with a groan, facing away from the door and the unexpected visitor. He hadn‘t invited anyone and didn‘t want to deal with anyone either.
His head hurt.
There was a big chance of his orbital being fractured. The EMT had put up quite a discussion about getting him to the ER after having found him unconscious on the ground. He had fought him tooth and nail to return to his hotel room. He wasn‘t even supposed to be in the country. How could he have possibly explained getting into a fight with an unknown super soldier during a bank heist? To his advantage, his clothes had hidden his back that must have turned black and blue by that point. Each deep inhale reminded him of being smashed into the cobblestone ground. At least he was back in his hotel room, doped up and attempting to get through the worst phase of headache by sleeping- in the two hour intervals he was allowed.
Concussion. To be woken up every two hours.
There was the possibility of him having lied to the EMT. There was nobody with him to make sure his condition didn‘t get worse, but he had also had concussions before and his phone had an alarm function. He had it covered. All he really needed was for that person to stop banging on his door!
„Torres! Open up, man. I know you‘re here“
Was that Sam? Shit.
The rapping repeated and finally he got up. The dimly lit hotel room immediately started to spin around him, forcing him to sit down on the edge of the bed again. His head resting in his hands, taking deep breaths to pull himself together, he closed his eyes. Just the short movement had been enough to spike his headache and the nausea again. He blinked a couple of times, his right eye hardly opening. He didn‘t need a mirror to know that it was swelling shut more and more. He could barely see out of it anymore. After a few seconds he got up and made it to the door on unsteady legs, each step making him more and more aware of all the bruises that were developing.
Banging again. His head felt ready to split in two with the sound now so much closer to him. He unlocked the door and came face to face with Sam Wilson.
„What are you doing here, Sam?“ He sounded exactly as tired and pain stricken as he felt, words coming out slightly slurred. He had to lean his shoulder against the wall by the door to keep a minimum of dignity and not faceplant the floor. Sam, in his usual manner, didn‘t wait to be invited in. He entered the room as soon as it was open, closed it again and locked it. He stepped in front of the younger man, took his face by the chin and turned his head to inspect the damage. A deep frown appeared on his face, a sharp inhale going with it.
„Dam, kid. Did that get checked properly? Look at me“
„Saaaaaam...Come on…“ He tried to move out of his grasp, eyes closing and his head sinking against the wall as well.
„Yeah, no. Don‘t gimme that shit, kid. Or I take you to the closest ER right now“
That got him. He had no doubt Sam would do exactly that. So he opened his eyes, looked at him with an attempt to appear as unbothered as possible, despite Sam‘s face blurring away around the edges. He sighed and straightened up. He wanted to demonstrate that he was fine, in no need to be hovered over. He was an adult, despite Wilson‘s habit to call him kid . He didn‘t have to come in the first place. Unfortunately, the result of the movement was a very ungraceful tilt to the side. The only thing that kept him from falling was Sam, who literally caught him before he went down.
Shit.
He was moved and just went with it, too busy to grit his teeth against the rising nausea and dizziness. The pounding between his temples caused him to groan and surrender to being half carried back to the bed. He was laid down, the pillow pushed under his head before the small bedside lamp was turned on. The light felt like daggers being pushed into his half opened eyes. This time he did fight him when he tried to turn his head towards the light.
„Sam..leave it. God..would you turn..the light off?“ He clumsily reached for the light switch, but felt his hand being caught in a firm grip.
„Look at me, Torres. Or I will haul your ass out of here straight away“
He obeyed. The pain it spiked made his eyes water and he swallowed thickly against the sick feeling manifesting in his guts. Sam looked at him with his brows tightly drawn together, then finally turned the light off again. He lowered his voice finally and took an audible deep breath before throwing the comforter from the foot of the bed over him.
„You should ice your face, kid“ He sounded genuinely worried at that point, voice softer.
„No peas or steak around..‘n I‘m not a kid…“ To his annoyance he sounded like one though. He allowed his eyes to drift shut, only to be patted on the cheek again until he opened them.
„What did they say about the damage? Torres, hey! Come on, man. Talk to me“
The patting on his cheek was a bit too forceful. He blinked, or at least thought he had blinked. Sam urged him again to open his eyes. He did and started to report in slow and slurred words. Concussion. Possible orbital fracture. Strained muscles in his shoulder. Bruises. It wasn‘t lying, he just didn‘t go into detail. After all he hadn‘t felt that bad after coming back to his room.
„Possible? Are you telling me there#s most likely a crack in your thick head and you didn’t get that checked properly?“
He groaned and attempted to roll away from him. Sam didn‘t need much force to keep him from it.
„Sam..God.. For all that‘s worth… keep your voice down..lights off..and let me sleep… please“
It was getting increasingly hard to focus, words hard to form. He heard Sam walk and shuffle around, but didn‘t look at what he was doing. He drifted off and lost track of time. He couldn‘t tell if he had fallen asleep in the end or lost consciousness.
Next time he became aware of his surroundings, he felt his head gently being turned before something icy cold was brought against the right side of his face. He gasped at the shock in temperature.
„Hey..it‘s alright. It‘s just the first minute“
That was Sam, so he hadn‘t dreamed that he had walked into his hotel. He was almost sure he had. He looked up with his left eye only, the right covered by something Sam had wrapped into a dish towel. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, holding the ice in place. His vision wasn‘t as blurred as it had been before, Sam‘s face now in focus and with sharp edges. He looked..concerned?
„The deal was that you would surveil them, not fight them, Jo“ There was no heat in his voice this time. Torres sighed.
„He had just thrown a policeman against a… I think it was...a lamp post… I .. Can‘t remember it all..“
His words obviously didn‘t plase Sam at all.
„Alright, we will talk about that again. Now you rest. You have an hour before I wake you again“
„You stay?“
„Do I stay? Damn it, kid. Of course I stay. Have you looked at yourself?“
„Is not that bad..“
„I‘ll believe you, if you remember any of this in 24h. Now stop discussing. One hour. Not a minute longer. I have stuff to do in the meantime“
„Stuff?“ He let out something between groan and chuckle.
„Moon stuff, he?“
Sam shook his head, gave him a lopsided grin and patted his shoulder while getting up.
„Yeah, sure, kid. Moon stuff“