Quite simply the most boring chapter I have ever written. Okay, in recent time it's the most boring chapter. So I'm sorry for this.

My excuse is I wrote it after five days of being sick and only had half a brain.

So like it, don't like it. Read it, don't read it. I really don't care.

******

Also, heads up if you want a reply from me then make sure to do an inline comment when you see these emojis in the author's note! 💬🗯💭

***********************************

The elevator doors opened but Carter didn't step out. Instead, she stood frozen with indecision. When the doors started closing again, she stuck out her hand and halted them. Shaking her head at herself, she walked out. The hallway seemed to stretch on, growing as she stared at it. She balled her hands and strode forward, stopping at a door.

For a long moment, she simply stared at the gold number hanging on it. Her thoughts were a current of annoyance and concern, the annoyance heavily berating the concern. But still, she didn't leave. Letting out a breath, she knocked. She inwardly cursed herself for even being there.

When no movement came from the other side, she spun on her heel ready to walk away, but the tug of concern stopped her. Grounding her teeth, she knocked once more. A single second ticked off in her head and she decided she had waited long enough.

But as she went to leave, she heard the faint shuffle of footsteps. She faced the door, already forming excuses and blasé comments about her presence there.

When Donovan opened the door, there were three things Carter instantly took in.

The first was the fact that he was shirtless. This was the first time she had ever seen him in such a state and she hated how the sight of his muscular torso affected her thoughts.

The second was the fact that he seemed to be sweating. Which this set her mind in a riot of directions.

The third was the fact that he looked awful. His eyes were red as well as the tip of his nose and his hair was an utter mess.

"Carter," Donovan said, her name coming out in a sharp rasp.

She blinked, taking everything in.

"I hadn't heard from you in a few days, I wanted to check-in."

Donovan opened his mouth to respond but snapped it shut. He staggered away from the door and to the bathroom. A second later, Carter heard him throwing up.

Unsure if he would even wanted her there but unable to leave, she followed him. He was seated on the floor, his head resting on his arm that sat on the rim of the toilet. He breathed heavily, his eyes closed.

Carter grabbed a hand towel from a rack, soaked it in water, rung it out, and crouched beside him. Closer, she could see how his skin was pale.

"Here," she said.

He pried his eyes open and accepted the towel, wiping his mouth.

"Can you stand up?" she asked.

"In...a...minute..."

The words seemed to take everything from him.

"Okay."

They sat there in silence for a long while until Donovan raised his head and looked at her. It was as if he were registering that she was there for the first time.

"Hey," she said, hurting at the worn-out look on his face. "Let me help you stand up."

She wrapped his arm around her neck and slid her hand around his waist. His skin was hot and clammy. They rose, Donovan leaning on her. They made a slow progression back to Donovan's room.

It was the first time Carter had ever seen it. There was a wall of windows with a desk and a leather armchair beneath it. The view was of more apartment buildings. On another wall was a line of bookshelves all packed with more books than Carter knew was in her own house. Donavan's bed was a tangle of forest green sheets. On the bedside table was a Kleenex box and a trash can next to it, piled high with used tissues.

She helped him onto the mattress and he tucked his feet under the blankets while Carter pulled the rest around him. He closed his eyes, all his energy spent.

"You don't have to be here," he said.

"Yes, let me leave you while you die."

The edge of Donovan's lips curled.

"It's just a bad flu. I've taken care of myself before."

Something about the fact that Donovan had already gone through a similar situation like this all on his own made Carter sad. Any time she had gotten sick Captain had taken care of her or Maggie had. She remembered the way they would sit by her bed and watch over her.

"Now you have me," she said.

Taking the trash can, Carter moved back to the living room. For the most part that laid untouched, except for a few blankets neatly folded on the end of the couch. The kitchen, however, was in need of care, the sink stacked with dirty dishes. Carter emptied the trash can into a larger one and returned it to the side of Donovan's bed.

"What do you need?" she asked.

He shook his head, offering nothing. Carter went back to the kitchen and called Maggie as she began to clean.

"Hey, hon," Maggie answered.

"Donovan has the flu, what should I do to help him?"

"Aww, that poor boy."

Carter fought a smile, knowing Donovan would hate being called that.

"What are his symptoms?"

"He's hot and sweaty, but cold at the same time. He threw up and I think his nose is stuffy, I don't know."

Plates clattered as Carter loaded them into the dishwasher.

"Sounds like a bad bug," Maggie said. "Okay, keep him warm and that should help break his fever. A cold washcloth on his forehead should help. If he can keep liquids down then make sure he keeps drinking water and if he's up for it broth."

"Got it. Thanks."

"Do you need me to come over and help?"

Carter smiled at the offer. "If it gets worse then yes."

"Okay, just let me know."

"Will do."

Carter pocketed her phone and went searching through Donovan's cupboards. When she found his water glasses, she took one down and filled it. She gave his fridge a cursory glance and was surprised to find that there was a container of broth already there. Making note of it, she took the water back to him.

He opened his eyes as she entered and seemed confused as if surprised she was still there.

"Do you think you can drink?" she asked.

He nodded. Perched on the edge of the bed, Carter helped him drink. He got half of the glass emptied, before sinking back onto the pillow. Carter set the glass aside and got a damp washcloth from the bathroom. She folded it and placed it on Donovan's burning forehead. The coolness of it seemed to ease him. She then dragged the armchair over to the side of his bed and sank down. She watched his face, sighing when the wrinkled lines of pain smoothed.

"Do you want to watch something?" she asked.

It was usually the remedy that her father used for her sickness, a way to take her mind off it all. Donovan shook his head.

"I don't watch TV," he said.

"What?"

"I usually read."

Carter blinked, trying to wrap her head around the fact that she had never known this about Donovan. They had been dating for a month and this bit of information had never come up. It explained the wall of books.

"Seriously?" she asked.

He nodded, eyes still closed.

"I was homeschooled, remember? Half of my life was reading. We didn't even own a TV. My entertainment was books and causing trouble with my brothers."

Carter smiled, pieces of his life taking more defined form in her mind.

"What other secrets have you been keeping from me?" she asked.

Donovan laughed but halfway through it turned into a harsh cough and Carter's smile fell away.

"Never mind," she said. "Don't talk."

He nodded to this and Carter offered him more water, helping clear his throat. When she was back in her seat, he spoke.

"Talk to me," he said.

At the statement, Carter found her mind going blank. They had had countless conversations before but this was something she wasn't sure she knew how to do. She could navigate any argument or even throw insults but a one-sided conversation was unnatural. Still, as she stared at Donovan she found that there wasn't anything she could deny him.

"I think I decided what I want to do," she said. "That might sound weird since the majority of the time I always know what I want to do, but this...well, it's an idea I didn't think about before. Even though now that I've thought about it it seems stupid for not having seen it before." Carter winced at her ramblings. "I sound like an idiot."

Donovan smiled. It was weak but it managed to make her feel relieved.

"What have you decided?" he asked.

"I'm going to join the FBI after college."

At this, Donovan opened his eyes. She raised an eyebrow.

"What do you think?" she asked.

She took in a breath and held it, for some reason knowing that his opinion held the biggest weight.

"I think it's a good fit."

She released the breath.

"It's also good to know I'll have a partner."

She grinned. "You should know I didn't decide to join cause you've mentioned that's where you planned to end up. I'm not some crazy girlfriend who blindly follows her boyfriend, okay?"

Donovan's eyelids got heavy and closed. "I wouldn't dream of it, cause I know my girlfriend isn't crazy."

Carter slid down in the chair, hating how much she loved hearing the title on his lips.

The rest of the day slid by with Carter helping Donovan drink water and eventually broth. He was able to keep it down, but the fever still hung on.

Somewhere through the day, he fell asleep, but Carter didn't leave. She remained in the chair beside his bed. Eventually, her own tiredness got to her and pulled her into dreams.

A couple of hours later, she was roused by the shutting of a door and the sound of footsteps. When she opened her eyes, Brock was in the doorway, looking at her. She shot up, her cramped muscles instantly protesting.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he said.

Carter shook her head like it didn't matter and turned to Donovan. He was still sound asleep. Gently, she removed the cloth from his forehead and found that his fever had broken. She let out a sigh of relief and stood. Brock backed out of the room and Carter followed.

"His fever is gone so that's good," she said.

Brock nodded, but said nothing, watching her. Self-conscious, she set the cloth on the kitchen counter.

"Are you here to watch over him?"

Brock nodded again. "I've been sleeping on the couch. He was supposed to call me if he needed anything."

Carter shrugged at this. "I hadn't heard from him so I stopped by to make sure he was okay."

"Then thanks."

She retrieved her bag and took a step towards the door.

"I should head home. If he needs me tomorrow, just call."

"Will do."

Carter had the door open when Brock called out.

"You're a good girlfriend."

She laughed. "I don't know about that but I seem to be the only one he has at the moment so he's stuck with me."

Even after the door shut behind Carter, Brock stood there. Eventually, he walked back into Donovan's room. The messy sheets had been neatened and the stray tissues had been cleaned up.

As he rounded the bed, he found Donovan was waking up. Brock stretched out a hand and laid it on his little brother's forehead. Carter was right, the fever was gone. Relieved, he took a seat in the chair beside the bed. Donovan twisted his head as if searching.

"Did Carter leave?" he asked.

Brock nodded. "How long was she here?"

"Most of the day."

Donovan ran a hand over his face. "She had the pleasure of watching me throw up."

"It takes a dedicated person to stick around after something like that."

Donovan turned onto his side under the blankets.

"I know," he said, his eyes drooping as his lips lifted.

Watching the emotions on Donovan's face, Brock crossed his arms.

"You gonna marry her?" he asked.

Donovan sank deeper into the pillow, sleep already reaching for him again. Before it could completely grab hold, he replied: "Probably."

**********************************************************************

I'm sorry.

Yup, that is my greeting because this chapter was so dull it deserves to be apologized for multiple times.

I promise you the next one will be better. This one helped me cause I needed something to write but wouldn't take a lot of brainpower. As you can see this was definitely a result of a lack of brainpower.

Anyways, despite the complete flatness of it I hope you derived a bit of pleasure from it. If so feel free to tell me here! 🗯💭💬

I did like the fact that Carter stayed, it shows that she cares for him. Honestly, to me that is a sign of love, not some over the top act, present, or grandiose declaration, but sticking by someone when they look awful, can't do anything for themselves, and can barely thank you. That's love to me, cause it's something that takes a sacrifice on the other person's part.

Just my random thoughts. If you have some drop them here! (And they have to be random or they will be denied.)
🗯💭💬

If you also feeling like dropping off a vote, comment, follow then I will happily pick it up.

Again I'm sorry for this chapter!