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sunriserose1023 · 3 months

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Point of Ignition [seven]

WARNINGS: Illness, fever, taking care of sick people, medications WORD COUNT: 3112

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The door opened before you could knock on it, revealing Bucky standing there with a huge smile on his face.

“Welcome home, Pidge.”

He took your bags, carrying them down the hall to his room as you took your shoes off at the door. Natasha was sitting in Sam’s lap on the couch, a smile on her plump lips.

“Nice to see you again.” “Oh, shut up.”

Sam cackled at you, giving Natasha’s thigh a squeeze. Bucky walked back into the room and straight to you, hands going to your hips as he lifted you and twirled you around.

“I’m so glad you’re home!” “Put me down!”

Natasha laughed as Bucky set you on your feet, throwing an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close.

“I say pizza to celebrate. Who’s with me?”

You stepped into the apartment, soaked to the skin from the thunderstorm that caught you without an umbrella as you walked back from class. Bucky had offered to drop you off and pick you up, but no. You’d refused in an effort to try to get more exercise.

Stupid.

You shivered as the cool air in the apartment blew over your dripping form. Not only had the thunderstorm come out of nowhere, but it brought with it rapidly dropping temperatures. You sneezed, making a face as you trudged down the hall to the bathroom, not worrying about the puddles you were leaving behind.

You turned the shower on and let it warm up, making a face as you wrestled out of your soaking wet clothes. You left them in a pile on the floor and climbed into the shower, shivering at first, then moaning softly as the warmth of the water finally started to warm you.

“Pidge?”

You jerked your head up, turning around and covering your naked body.

“Bucky, what the hell?!” “Oh, relax. I can’t see anything. You’ve got everything steamed up in here.” “Get out!” “Relax, pigeon. Did something spring a leak or—“ “No, that was me. I got caught in the rain. “You walked all the way from campus in this storm? Fuck, Pidge. Why didn’t you call me?”

You hung your head, creeping further under the warm water. Your voice was soft when you answered.

“I don’t know.”

Bucky didn’t respond for a moment, and you glanced over your shoulder to see him gather your clothes in his arms.

“I’ll get you some warm clothes and throw these in the wash. Jesus, Pidge, these things are soaked.” “Buck—“

The door closed and you sighed, sniffling once before you grabbed the shampoo on the soap ledge.

You dressed in a pair of flannel pajama pants and one of Bucky’s hoodies that he’d left out for you on his bed. It practically swallowed you, but it was warm and smelled like him. You made your way down the hall, sniffling once and swallowing, then making a face. You went for the kitchen and got a bottle of water, then turned to see Bucky sitting on the couch with a blanket beside him. He tore his eyes from the TV and glanced your way as a soft smile came to his lips.

“Come cuddle with me and watch a movie. Let me warm you up.”

You raised an eyebrow and he chuckled.

“I did not mean that as sexual as it sounded.”

You made your way to the living room, shaking your head.

“I’m not sitting on that couch.” “It’s been cleaned and sanitized.”

You stared at him and he shook his head, eyes wide.

“What? I’m serious!”

You held your ground, narrowing your eyes and he sighed.

“Alright, I sprayed some Febreze and flipped the cushions. It’s the best I could do.”

You sighed, but smiled as you made your way to him, sitting beside him and tucking your feet under you. Bucky reached over you, grabbing the blanket and tucking it around you.

“Did the shower help?” “A little. I’m still kind of cold.” “Well, come here.”

He all but scooped you up, tugging you close to his side and keeping an arm around you. You started to shake your head, but instead, you leaned into him.

“God, you’re like a furnace.” “I’ve always run hot. Want me to take my shirt off? Oh, you know body heat is the best way to warm someone.” “You’re a comedian, I swear.”

Bucky chuckled, giving your arm a gentle rub. He picked up the remote, pointing it at the television.

“Disney movie or that new murder doc on Hulu?” “Disney. Can we watch Tangled?" “Sure you don’t want to watch Lady and the Tramp, Pidge?”

You gave a quiet laugh, laying your hand on Bucky’s flat stomach.

“Put that one on next.”

Bucky smiled.

“You got it.”

Natasha stepped into the apartment and pulled the hood of her rain jacket back, shaking her head.

“It’s a monsoon.”

Sam was behind her, shaking out the umbrella and leaving it outside by the door.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s stopping anytime soon.”

He started to go into the apartment, stopping when Natasha was in the way, completely still.

“Nat, it’s cold out here. Go in.” “Look.”

Sam leaned around her, eyebrows raising when he saw you and Bucky on the couch. Bucky was stretched out across the cushions, head on the armrest, one arm behind his head. You were curled around him, head on his chest, huddled under a blanket, and his other arm was around you.

Sam lifted Natasha by her hips and set her inside, giving himself enough room to close the door behind them. Sam glanced at the TV, chuckling under his breath when he noticed the Disney Plus login screen. He shrugged his jacket off, hanging it on a hook near the door, then looked at his watch.

“Should we wake them up to eat?” “I don’t know. Does her face look flushed to you?”

Sam walked a little closer to the couch, stopping when Bucky shifted, arm tightening around you, holding you a bit closer. He leaned down, then stood back up.

“Uh oh. Yeah, it does.” “Crap. I hope she’s not sick. When she gets sick, she gets hospital sick.” “Maybe it’s just because she’s got a hoodie on under that blanket. Plus, she’s all up on Buck. He’s like a damn furnace.”

Natasha nodded, biting her lip.

“Yeah, maybe.” “Come on. Let’s let them rest and make it an early night.”

Bucky opened his eyes to find the apartment dark, save for the light above the stove. He closed his eyes again and sighed, opening them and smiling when he saw you sleeping on his chest.

“Pidge, let’s go to bed.”

You made a soft noise, and Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed as he noticed how warm his chest was. He lifted a hand to brush it against your face, eyes widening when his fingers registered the scorch of your skin.

“Shit, Pidge, you’re burning up. Hey, baby, wake up.”

You moaned, slowly blinking your eyes open. Bucky swallowed at the look in your eyes and how flushed your cheeks were.

“Can you sit up?”

You did, with his help, groaning at the ache in your bones.

“Bucky, I don’t feel good.” “I know, pigeon. Hang tight for a second.”

You whimpered as he climbed off the couch, closing your eyes and shivering.

“Open your mouth, Pidge.”

You did, keeping your eyes closed as Bucky slid the thermometer under your tongue. You jolted when a beeping noise sounded, opening your eyes to see Bucky’s widen as he stared at the thermometer.

“Oh, you’re sick, honey.”

He turned the thermometer to show you where the display read 102 degrees. You met his eyes and he held up a finger, leaving you to go into the kitchen. You closed your eyes again, waking when Bucky sat on the coffee table in front of you.

“Take this.”

He placed two pills in your hand and you stuck them in your mouth, swallowing them with a glass of water. You winced at the ache in your throat and Bucky nodded.

“Drink it all for me, Pidge.” “Buck—“ “I know. Drink it anyway.”

You nodded, sipping from the glass until it was empty. Bucky took it from you, standing to his feet and holding out a hand.

“Let’s go to bed.”

You put your hand in his and stood up, leaning against him when your knees buckled.

“Easy, Pidge. Let’s just stand here a minute.”

You rested your head against his chest and he wrapped his arms around you.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” “I don’t feel good.” “I know."

You moved closer to him, putting your forehead against his neck.

“Jesus, Pidge. You’re so hot.” “Stop trying to … get in my pants.”

Bucky laughed.

“I meant it literally, but whatever you say.”

He rubbed a hand up and down your back, taking a step forward. You moved with him and together, you slowly made your way down the hall.

Hot.

You were so hot, but that must have been because you were huddled under a pile of blankets. You managed to fight your way out from under the blanket pile, a feat which exhausted you so much you fell asleep.

Cold.

You opened your eyes to find yourself curled into a ball, entire body trembling. Your teeth were even chattering. You slowly turned your head to see blankets in reach, but your arms hurt to move them. Your legs were the same way. It felt like your entire skeleton just ached, and all you could do was moan softly.

“Hey, everything’s okay. You cold?”

You opened your eyes to see Bucky standing over you. You nodded and he reached for the blankets, gently laying them over you.

“Open your mouth for me, Pidge.”

You did, eyes drifting closed as he stuck a thermometer under your tongue. You jolted when it beeped, opening your eyes to see Bucky sigh.

“Hanging steady at 102. It's time for some more Tylenol, okay?”

You just stared at him and he smiled at you.

“I’ll be right back, Pidge.”

You winced as you snuggled your aching body down under the covers. You forced your eyes to stay open, teeth still chattering. Bucky walked back into the room and placed two pills and a glass on the bedside table.

“I know this is going to suck, but you’ve got to sit up to take the pills.” “No, Bucky, please.” “Come on, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

You moaned as he helped you sit up, moving behind you so you could rest against him. You were breathing hard from the exertion, and Bucky held the pills to your lips. You opened your mouth and he slipped the pills in, the glass of water held to your lips a second later. You swallowed the pills, finishing the water at Bucky’s gentle coaxing.

He set the empty glass back on the bedside table, and you took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you settled against him.

“Let’s get you back comfortable, okay?”

You nodded, Bucky’s hands gentle as he helped you lay back down. He covered you with the blankets, gently brushing your hair off your forehead. You opened your eyes and stared up at him.

“Stay with me.”

He blinked as he watched your eyes drift closed a few seconds before they opened again. You slid a hand from beneath the covers and Bucky smiled. He moved to slide in the bed on his side, inching up behind you until he was spooning you, holding you on top of the covers.

“I can’t stay long. Nat and Sam need their meds in about an hour and it’s a fight every time.” “Mm-hmm.”

Bucky gave a quiet laugh, feeling your body relax as you fell back to sleep. He sighed, bending where his forehead was against your shoulder. He could feel the heat of your fever through his t-shirt you were wearing, and he knew he’d be back in an hour or two to give you another fever reliever.

He’d been doing everything he could for the past two days, but your fever never dipped under one hundred. Nat and Sam had started running fever yesterday and last night respectively, and Bucky was constantly praying he’d miss this illness. He was pretty sure you all had the flu, and a campus-wide email of multiple classes being canceled only fueled his theory. Bucky had called the campus clinic, which was overrun with sick students, and when someone had finally taken his call, they told him to try to keep the fevers managed and to visit the ER if they got too high or any breathing problems arose.

You were snoring softly, thanks to the congestion in your head, and Bucky snuggled closer to you. He wasn’t doing much to protect himself from getting sick, but you were his priority at the moment. He let himself close his eyes, just listening to you breathe.

“Pidge. Hey, sweetheart.”

You moaned, gasping when a cool, damp rag was pressed to your forehead. You opened your eyes to see Bucky sitting on the edge of the bed beside you, another cool rag in his hand.

“I’m going to put this on your neck, okay?”

You nodded, gasping again when the cool rag touched your skin. You brought your fever-glazed eyes to his and Bucky sighed.

“Your fever’s at 104. We’ve got to get it down, okay?”

You just stared at him and he licked his lips.

“Come on, sit up for me.” “No.” “Yeah, come on.”

You moaned and whimpered as he helped you sit up, gasping again when he pulled his hoodie off of you.

“Bucky.” “I know, baby. I know.” “I don’t feel good.”

Bucky nodded, then sighed.

“This is probably going to suck, but I need you to do this for me, okay?”

You just stared at him, and he slid an ice pack covered in a dish towel under your arm. You shook your head, trying to move away, but Bucky gently caressed your face.

“I know, Pidge. I know. Just for a little while. I’ve got to get your fever down, okay?” “Buck—“ “It’s this or the ER, and I don’t want to have to take you there, okay?"

You whimpered, moaning again when he put another ice pack under your other arm. You gave a pitiful whine and Bucky dragged a hand down his face.

“I don’t even know if this will fucking work. Damn Google, but this was the only thing I could try. Maybe a bath? But you would be miserable in lukewarm water.”

He blew out a breath, going still and turning to look at you when your hand touched his. He gave you a smile, reaching to brush your hair away from your face.

“You’re okay. I’m right here.” “Don’t go.” “Not a chance.”

You nodded, eyes heavy. Bucky picked the rag up from your forehead, turning it to the cool side before placing it back on you. You gave a shaky breath, but closed your eyes, linking your fingers with his as you drifted back to sleep.

Bucky shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment. Sam’s fever was at 100, Natasha’s at 101, but they both took the medicine he gave them with minimal fuss, falling asleep almost immediately after finishing the glasses of water he’d all but forced down their throats.

He went to the kitchen and dropped off the empty glasses, washing his hands and just standing there for a moment. He looked at the clock on the stove, then made his way back to his room, where you were sleeping, a smile coming to his lips when he found you with the covers kicked off.

“Thought you were freezing even after I took the ice packs.”

You sighed in your sleep and he shook his head, gathering the blankets and pulling them over you, reaching to push your sweaty hair off your face.

Wait.

He laid a hand against your forehead, your skin warm, but nowhere near as scorching as it had been. He fumbled for the thermometer and brought it to your lips, slipping it under your tongue without you waking. It beeped and he pulled it from your lips, nearly shouting with relief when he saw the 101.

“Thank God, Pidge. Oh, thank God.”

He put his head in his hand, using the other to cradle your face, sparks flying in his heart when you leaned into his touch.

The first thing you noticed when you opened your eyes was that you didn’t feel quite as bad as you had the past few days. You definitely weren’t ready to run any marathons, but you thought you could manage walking down the hall to the kitchen. As soon as you attempted to move out of Bucky’s hold, he was awake.

“What is it, Pidge? What do you need?” “No, I … I’m okay.”

Bucky sniffled, running a hand over his scruffy face.

“Let me grab your meds.” “Hey, Bucky.”

He turned his head to look at you, eyes widening as he turned his body towards yours.

“Hey. Your eyes look clear.”

You closed your eyes when he reached out a hand, gently pressing it against your forehead.

“Oh my God.”

He rolled to grab the thermometer off his nightstand and you automatically opened your mouth at his silent prompt. When the thermometer beeped, Bucky took it out of your mouth and looked down at it, a laugh escaping his lips.

“Holy shit, Pidge. Your fever’s gone.”

He laughed again, reaching to take your face in his hands and bringing you closer, pressing his lips to your forehead. He laughed again, gathering you into his arms and pulling you close.

“Thank God. Thank God, Pidge, fuck.”

You smiled as you snuggled close to him, putting your nose in his neck. Bucky sighed, hand gently moving up and down your back.

“You scared the shit out of me, Pidge. Don’t do that again.” “I’m sorry.”

He sighed again, shaking his head.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. How are you feeling?” “Better. Still kind of wonky, but much better than the last few days.”

Bucky nodded.

“You hungry?”

You wrinkled your nose.

“Not really.” “How about some toast? We’ll have breakfast and get your strength up and maybe you can try a shower later.” “You trying to tell me something?”

Bucky laughed, giving your arm a squeeze.

“Never, Pidge. I’m just so happy you’re better.”

You moved the slightest bit closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes as he held you just a bit tighter.

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