the fallen star

the sickness that follows

I nod stiffly.

"Well maybe someone in the past wasn't very nice to Ri when she was sick?" Pietro suggests.

"I'm not gonna push her to talk." I shake my head. "I'll wait for her to come to me, and be there if she does get sick, which would be your fault entirely."

"Why would it be my fault?" Pietro questions defensively.

I scoff. "Oh maybe the letting her stay out in the rain and then pushing her in a puddle, or maybe the fact when you go out you could be bringing in illness's that have no effect on me and you, but could be fatal to America because she's from another multiverse."

"You can't put all the blame all on me. And we don't know if that's even the case." Pietro defends.

"That's the thing! We don't know!" I snap, loosing my patience with him. "And I don't exactly know a doctor that's able to help me as last time I checked, the only doctor I know had a pretty strong disliking for me."

"Are you talking about Doctor Banner? The one who told you he was going to choke the life out of you?" I can see Pietro clench his fists at the memory.

I nod in response. "We had gotten along slightly better the last time we met, but he still kept out of my way and I knew from his emotions when around me that he didn't trust me or like me one bit."

"Well maybe the best thing then is to expose America to all these things, and maybe get her some vaccinations done at some point?" He suggests. "Surely we can find a doctor to do that?"

I agree stiffly, not overly fond of having to interact with anyone let alone a doctor, but I would do anything to keep my daughter safe.

"I'll look into it." I nod, giving my brother a small smile.

"Night, little sis." Pietro brings me into a hug, messing up my hair.

"Goodnight, Tio." I tease, making him frown.

"Only America can call me that." He reminds me, as I pull away and start making my way out of his messy room.

"Whatever you say, brother." I use my powers to throw a dirty pair of boxers at him. "Clean up your room."

~~~

I'm awoken suddenly in the night with a bad feeling in my stomach. Somethings wrong.

I listen out for a noise that could have awoken me, when I hear the sound of crying coming from America's room.

"America..." I mutter to myself, quickly getting out of bed and hurrying into America's bedroom, where I hear the sobbing was coming from her en suite bathroom.

I quickly rush in, and my heart breaks at the sight of America curled up on the bathroom floor, clutching her head in agony and sweating profusely.

"Oh, baby..." I coo, kneeling down next to her and lifting her into my lap.

She is very clearly sick, but I can see a familiar look of fear in her eyes as she looks at me, something I haven't seen since the day I found her.

America starts shaking her head as the crying increases, struggling to get out of my hold. "I'm fine, Mama. I'm not sick, I promise. Please don't punish me! I promise I'm not sick!" America pleads desperately.

So that confirms mine and Pietro's suspicions that she was abused in the past.

"Sweetheart it's okay if your sick, I'm not gonna punish you for it, baby." I reassure the shaking girl, holding her close to me.