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 Back to the Start [fin], Bucky / Remy

Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 14 2018, 08:01 AM
DISCLAIMER : this is taking place during the event, not at the very start

Shivering and burning up at the exact same time, Steve stared straight ahead, his body betraying him once again. He'd remembered this feeling, remembered how helpless he always felt, even if he said he could handle things on his own. In so many ways, he just wanted to go home, back to New York, back to a place that wasn't completely foreign to him, especially at a time like this. He felt the same, yet completely different, and he hated it. But he could handle it. He didn't need help. Or, really, did he? Ever since he'd woken up and noticed how different things were. He wasn't in the muscular and strong body he'd become used to. He was small, maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet, and he felt like he'd been hit by a truck. His chest ached, his head hurt, and he felt exhausted. This wasn't good and from the moment he tried to stand and lost his balance, he knew that the years of being cured from all ailments had done nothing but make it worse when they came back at full force. Even though it had only been a few days, Steve could feel himself getting weaker and weaker, but he never said a word. Bucky and Sam didn't need to worry about him, he'd be able to handle this own his own, right?

Steve looked at the clock, his eyes unfocused and unclear. Color was missing from the world yet again, something he'd taken for granted along with everything else. Things were now a dull mixture of grays, whites, and blacks, things playing out like the movie his life used to be, like it had been back in Brooklyn. It was almost one in the morning and Steve kept his arms curled around his body, trying his best to keep himself from shivering out of his skin or making too much noise. He knew a fever was setting in, it was like an unwelcome friend coming back to pay a visit, and as he tried to keep himself as warm as possible, the blankets did absolutely nothing to soothe his small frame. He fucking hated this. He closed his eyes, feeling the sweat start to form on his forehead, and that was when the coughing started. Once it started, he always had a hard time getting it to stop. Over and over again, he tried desperately to be as quiet as possible, but with each cough and sharp intake of breath, a wheeze accompanied it and he felt terrible. Absolutely terrible.

Steve had tried to sit up, so that there would be a direct line to his lungs and, maybe, take some of the pressure off them, but it didn't work. As soon as he was sitting upright, he was coughing and wheezing yet again, sounding like a child who'd been struck with a terrible case of whooping cough. He curled his arms around his legs as he brought them to his chest, an act he hadn't been able to do since the serum, and closed his eyes, sweating and shivering all at once. He knew he must look like a complete and utter mess, that was exactly how he was feeling, but he could handle it. He'd be fine. He'd be back to his normal self in no time, wouldn't he? He hoped so because, which each cough, he felt more and more lightheaded, a feeling he couldn't shake. This whole thing was a complete disaster and Russia's cold climate didn't help things. Winters always took their toll on Steve when he was younger and things had reverted back to that. In so many ways, he felt like he might not make it through the night, like his body was slowly deteriorating and destroying itself and there was absolutely nothing Steve could do to stop it.



James Barnes

James Barnes

Winter Soldier
Enhanced
100 years old
77 posts
Feb 14 2018, 11:45 AM


Bucky heard the coughing but it took him a solid two minutes to convince his body to let him get up and almost another minute to actually do it. He knew why, his body had never had to cope with the added weight of his metal arm without the help of whatever Zola had done to him, and he still felt pain when he was whatever he normally was, but this was a normal human body trying to cope with the compensation the serum had all but done for him. His back felt like it was literally on fire, and if he shifted the wrong way he felt like his arm was trying to tear itself off him.

Whatever had happened, some kind of rapid regression of the serum was his best guess, it had left him in pain but it had left Steve all but his old self.

Despite the fact the corner he'd set himself up in so he had a wall to his back and side to keep him upright was 'comfortable' - and even he had to admit he wasn't going to sleep so he might as well keep watch just in case- he lumbered toward the bed they'd made for Steve which was covered in anything that even remotely resembled a blanket.

”You know it's actually snowing, right, it's not just your imagination this time?” if he leaned on the wall while he waited for an answer it was only because of the arm and not because his legs didn't fully want to support him. ”Get back under the blankets before you catch your death. I don't need Sarah Rogers haunting my ass.” He forced a smile on his face and acted like his breathing wasn't just as labored as Steve's was.



Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 14 2018, 12:57 PM
Steve felt his teeth start to chatter and it was everything in his power not to just fall back over and curl up into the ball he'd turned himself into. He held his legs tight to his chest and started coughing again, turning his head to the side and trying to let it all taper off before he literally coughed up his lungs. It took him a few moments to realize that he wasn't alone, that Bucky was there, standing close by, just like he'd used to do. In so many ways, this reminded him of when he was younger, but the pain never got easier. Believe it or not, it had gotten worse and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. "'s really hot in here," Steve muttered, his teeth still chattering and his body practically giving up on him. "No snowflakes, just really hot." It was a strange feeling, to be both burning up and freezing at the same time. His tiny body didn't exactly provide the most warmth, but the blankets did and Steve was sweating. Or was that just the fever setting in? He didn't know. Everything was a mess and he needed to handle it on his own. He could handle this on his own.

Steve's eyes moved up to Bucky's and he wished he could see he color in them. Something he'd gotten used to, another thing he'd learned to love about Bucky, and it was gone, replaced with a gray tone that matched the rest of the world. He hadn't missed this body one bit. "I'm fine," he chattered out, his body shivering violently under the covers as he turned his head and coughed a few more times, sounding raspy and pretty terrible. He was anything but fine, but he didn't need help. He'd been through this before, he could handle it again. He rested his head against the wall, still clinging as tightly as he could to his legs as he shut his eyes. It was then that he realized something else was wrong. He knew that Bucky had lost his own abilities, but did that cause him pain, too? Slowly, Steve opened his eyes and looked over at Bucky, still shivering and sweating like crazy. "You okay?" he asked, worrying more than he probably should have, but he couldn't help it. He loved Bucky, he wanted to make sure he was okay, too. Steve could fend for himself.

Just as the words left his mouth, Steve felt his body start to give out, his eyes falling closed again as he leaned back over onto his side, curling up into a ball and feeling weak. He hated this. He wanted to be himself again, not this mess of a person who could barely breathe due to the freezing air and the fever that had set in. "Mama's not gonna be mad, Buck, you can stay," he said, more to himself than anyone else. Why had he said that? He had no idea. His mind was working through a fever and when that happened, Steve tended to lose a bit of his mind and say things that might not mean anything, but has relevance in the past. Keeping his eyes closed, his hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, Steve started coughing again, taking in short, quick gasps of air with each cough. Asthma, fever, a chill, what else could go wrong with him? Slowly, he opened his eyes and stared forward, water filling in the corner of his eyes with every cough and every shake of his body. He wasn't crying, it was the pure strain that was being put on him.



James Barnes

James Barnes

Winter Soldier
Enhanced
100 years old
77 posts
Feb 14 2018, 02:44 PM


Bucky didn't need to hear his teeth, he could see them chattering even from a distance, and he immediately felt horrible. Whatever was happening Steve could have been back hme, or relatively close to it, and getting proper medical care, but instead he was in the middle of backward ass Russia because Bucky had brought him here. He hadn't dragged him kicking and screaming, he knew that Steve would never have stayed and let him do this alone, but he still felt bad because -as always seemed to be the case anymore- it was his fault.

It didn't take very long before Steve's insistence it was warm turned to worrying about him. "M' fine." He said, being anything but fine. Not that he would ever admit that to the other man.

All his concerns for himself, however, stopped when he cracked a joke about Steve's mom and the boy, no he wasn't a boy even if that was how his mind immediately classified him looking like this, the other man said she wouldn't be angry. Delirium. That was never a good thing. "I know she won't Punk."

Bucky's feet shuffled a little as he made his way over to where Steve was somewhat bundled under the blankets again, nudging him with a hand and telling him to scoot over. "Budge will you?" He didn't want to accidentally tip over on him. The fact that he was basically crawling under the blankets with him didn't even register as odd, or the fact that he automatically pulled the blankets up over himself to try and double up the body heat. It was normal, wasn't it? They used to do this all the time. Looking over and seeing Steve just as small and frail as he'd ever been he was absolutely sure of it, so much so that it took him a moment to realize he wasn't in a shitty tenement in Brooklyn when blinked at the familiar figure. Laying down like this though, with the weight of his arm mostly carried for him, god this was so much better. "You're right, it is warm."




Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 14 2018, 05:42 PM
Steve wanted to protest, to say that he didn't need Bucky there and that he should be taking care of himself. Steve could handle this on his own. But he didn't. His mind was in a complete and utter fog, flashing images of his mother's face, a much younger looking Bucky, and all the sights from Brooklyn. It had to be the fever setting in, making him sound like he was insane and causing his body to, in turn, try to shut down. He tried to move when he felt Bucky nudge him, but he couldn't. He didn't have the strength. "S'nough room," he muttered, his eyes still sealed shut as he moved his head just a little bit so that it was hitting the pillow as his body still shook like a leaf. He, honestly, felt like he was going to be sick. The heat was overbearing and when the coughs hit him, the pain was unbearable. He tried not to focus on that, though, just on the mass that was laying beside him, keeping him grounded as best as he could. He was thankful that it had been Bucky who was with him during this. Bucky always knew just what to do.

Steve opened his eyes when he felt Bucky up against his back and finally allowed himself to relax. He let go of his legs and let them stretch out, he wasn't nearly as tall now as he was with the serum, and brought his hands up, his body shivering and his teeth chattering away, and ran them through his hair, trying to get the strands and the sweat off his forehead. His hand fell down against his side as he stared straight ahead yet again, looking at the wall and imagining he was home, his mother in the other room getting ready for a night shift and Bucky's arms around him, helping him stay warm through the night. Steve wasn't always sick when he was younger, but he definitely spent his fair share of time hauled up in bed just like this, hoping that he'd make it through the night. "I'm so hot, I want it to just stop. I have to make it stop," he whispered, closing his eyes and clenching his fists, feeling like his entire body was on fire. He wouldn't make it through the night if this fever didn't break and Steve knew it. He'd been there so many times, yet there was nothing they could do when they were in the middle of nowhere.

Steve didn't really know what he was doing, but before he could stop himself, he was moving his hand and reaching back to grip onto the side of Bucky's pants, just wanting to have something to hold on to, to know that he wasn't alone. "Don't leave me, alright? I'm still strong, I'll be fine. Just don't go. Please." Steve, yet again, had no mental clue as to why he'd said that. It sounded like how he'd felt before Bucky had left when he was drafted. It sounded like what he said in the middle of the night after he'd lost Bucky, knowing he'd never come back. But now, it still made sense. He wasn't as strong as he was before, he wasn't Captain America. He was just Steve and Bucky had always been okay with that. He took in a sharp intake of breath and started coughing again, sitting up just a bit to stop the wheezing sound from getting any worse. He tried to catch his breath and he was certain he'd woken up everyone in the surrounding area, but he couldn't control it. He needed syrup or whatever they used nowadays and they didn't have that.



James Barnes

James Barnes

Winter Soldier
Enhanced
100 years old
77 posts
Feb 14 2018, 06:42 PM


Again it took him far longer than it should have to move because part of him didn't really want to move. This wasn't painless, but it was much better than trying to stand upright, and he was momentarily enjoying the lessened discomfort. Still he managed to roll onto his side and reach across Steve to set his metal hand on the smaller man's forehead. "Better?" They didn't have a cold compress, not unless Bucky went out and got a bunch of snow to literally set on Steve's forehead, but his arm was always at least as cool as the air around it. If it didn't break soon the bottle of aspirin he'd had Sam get for him would have to get shuffled over to Steve too.

He didn't move because honestly, the arm pressing down onto his shoulder was more soothing then just trying to lay there had been. At this point, anything that hurt less was a blessing, and he could only imagine how Steve felt considering how much he had hurt as a kid.

Steve's fingers wrapped into the pocket on one leg of his pants and the way he said that, asking him not to go like there was a chance he was just going to get up and leave, it hurt. He knew that voice, he'd heard it before and Bucky managed to shimmy in a little closer. Sweat the fever out of his body, put something cool on his forehead, make sure he didn't freeze in the middle of the night. These were all things he was just used to doing. "I'm not going anywhere kid."

It struck him how odd it was that he was so sure of these things, but being here like this he was just, aware. He'd known little things, Sarah, the newspapers, 'kid', art, but this felt like he was right back in it. He half expected Sarah Rogers to pop open the door and check on them, for his sister to run in and bounce on the foot of the paper thin mattress so they would get up and Bucky would take her out to play in the snow. The only thing that reminded him it wasn't 1940 and they weren't in Brooklyn was the occasional glint off his metal arm, because the familiar shape of Steve just laying there and absorbing the ridiculous amount of body heat he put out was not helping his pain-fogged mind figure out what the hell was going on.



Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 14 2018, 07:29 PM
The moment that Bucky's hand was on his forehead, Steve relaxed. The cool metal instantly made him feel a lot better, his frail body still shivering from the fever. "S'nice," he whispered through chattering teeth. His body had been completely soaked with sweat, so, to feel that cool touch, it helped in ways he didn't even know were possible. "Don't wanna cause more pain for you, Buck," he added, but he didn't move because it just felt too good. It helped him forget that his body was slowly destroying itself and feeling worse by the second. It was a small reprieve from the pain and it was welcomed because, at that point, every inch of Steve's body felt like it was going to melt into the mattress and his lungs felt even worse, like they wanted to jump out of his throat and give up on him. But Bucky needed to worry about himself first. Steve was fine, or so he said, and he would be able to take care of himself. He didn't need to be a burden to Bucky.

Steve heard Bucky's words and they put his mind at ease. Sure, he was in a shit ton of pain and didn't exactly know where he was or if everything was ever going to go back the way it was. Maybe he'd be stuck in this body for the rest of his life, which, wouldn't be long if he kept this up. He gripped tightly to Bucky's pants and let himself calm down from the coughing spell, trying to get his breathing to be as normal as possible. "Good. Cause you're warm," he whispered, still in a state of complete and utter chaos. His body wanted and hated the heat the exact same time, but it was really the body pressed against him that gave him the comfort he needed. He could sleep like this forever. He'd love to sleep like this forever and he really loved Bucky. This Bucky, old Bucky, whoever it was, Steve knew that he loved him and wanted nothing more to stay in his embrace for as long as possible. At least, if he were to die, he'd die in the arms of someone he loved more than life itself.

Letting a few moments of silence pass between them, Steve tried his very best to clear his mind, to make it so that he could speak clearly. The fever had definitely set in and with a Bucky's hand on his forehead, it was bearable. He could handle this. He hoped. He started coughing again, the familiar taste of blood on his tongue. He didn't say anything about it, though. That would have worried the old Bucky and, surely, this one as well. He coughed a few more times and, instinctually, leaned back into Bucky's body even further, his own feeling more tiny than it had ever felt before. "Fuck," he whispered, his body shivering a little still, but it was coming down. The fever was slowly coming down. "Can't we fly home tomorrow? Rather be sick in our bed. Then I could take care of you, too." The words came out quick, yet still slurred. He wasn't in his right mind. Not at all. "Got syrup? From the drugstore? I can pay," he muttered, talking about cough syrup to help stop the coughing and to keep the blood at bay. He didn't need that getting everywhere, too.



James Barnes

James Barnes

Winter Soldier
Enhanced
100 years old
77 posts
Feb 14 2018, 09:55 PM


"I'm fine." Bucky mumbled back, even though he wasn't, but this was still better than trying to be upright and moving. Hell, it was as close to comfortable as he had been since whatever the hell had happened, happened. He could move the arm just fine, feel with it, he just had trouble lifting it. "Don't worry about it." They both knew that was futile, Steve would never not worry about every single thing, but it didn't matter because he would be alright for a little bit if it meant that Steve didn't have to get worse.

It was silly really, to go along with the weird way Steve's brain was going, but he had been around this before. He was used to this. Just get him through the worst of it and then Steve would get mad at him and insist he didn't need any help. That was fine, he could handle that. Until then he'd just let Steve lay there pressed up against him and hold his hand to the other man's forehead.

Fly home. There was a thought, get somewhere with proper medical care and get Steve checked into it, pretend he was someone else. Too bad it was the exact medical issues he'd need help for that were the reason they couldn't just go back. He wouldn't be able to finagle his way through security, Steve's lungs might collapse from the weird pressure inside the cabin, and they had come to get rid of the book which would be much, much harder if they left and had to wait around to find it again.

Their bed, Steve could take care of him? Where was he at right now? It felt so much like back in Brooklyn even if he didn't know the specifics. The mention of syrup though had Bucky glancing at the clock, it wasn't too late but then again shady as hell medicine deals in shifty looking all night drug stores didn't usually happen in broad daylight. "Sam's getting some, I paid."



Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 15 2018, 06:26 AM
Don't worry about it. Oh, that was funny. That was like asking a dog not to bark because, of course, Steve was going to worry about it. He always worried about Bucky. "I am worried as fuck about it," he slurred out, keeping his eyes closed as his body shook and his mind was spinning. He should have b en worried about his own health because it seemed to be getting worse with each passing moment, but he wasn't. He was worried about being too much work for Bucky and Sam. He didn't need babysitters, he was an adult who'd seen war, who'd felt loss, but, at the same time, he knew he wasn't going to be feeling any better any time soon. Steve remembered how bad it felt to be this sick and he remembered being hauled up in bed for weeks, his fever breaking and then coming back with a vengeance the next evening. It was always a lot worse at night, always had been, and maybe that was his body telling him to go to sleep so that it could finally shut down. That would, surely, make an interesting end to his story's Steve Rogers, frail and small, dies in the arms of the man he loves, the man he wanted to protect and help.

Steve groaned a little and mumbled something under his breath. He didn't want Bucky to have to pay for it. Bucky always paid for things that he needed. "Save your money, Buck, I'll pay for it,, he whispered, opening his eyes again and staring straight in front of him. He felt like this was all just a bad dream, that his eyes would focus and the color would return, but it didn't. Nothing had changed, the only thing giving him comfort being the other man's arms around him. "I can get it. Tomorrow. Sam won't have to go out in the cold." Steve knew he was being ridiculous. There was no way, with this fever and this cough, that he could go outside without making things ten times worse. But he didn't want to make Sam do something for him, something he could easily do himself when he was normal. Or maybe, this was finally his normal again, the serum wearing off and his body giving up on him for being so irrational. As much as he felt like he'd wanted to die due to the extreme pain and discomfort, deep down, he really didn't want to. He had Bucky and a purpose again, he wasn't ready to give up.

It took a few moments, but soon, Steve's teeth stopped chattering and his body went slightly limp against Bucky, a familiar feeling of semi relief washing over him. His breathing was still incredibly strained and he sounded more like he was wheezing than actually breathing, but at least the fever had seemed to break a little bit. Hopefully it would stay slightly low until they could get to the store. He closed his eyes again and felt another coughing spell come on, still tasting blood as he tried to catch his breath, wheezing and absolutely miserable. When he was finished, he realized he was still gripping onto Bucky's pants with all the force he could muster, which wasn't a lot. He was still in such a daze, it was hard for him to focus and that grip kept him grounded and gave him incredible support. He felt like a child and there was nothing he could do about it. He felt something on his lip and, carefully brought up his other hand, the one that wasn't clinging onto Bucky's pants, wiping it off to see the blood. He didn't say anything or even mention it, hoping that Bucky wouldn't notice. "'member when we'd climb to the roof of my old building and we'd look at the stars and just talk? That was my favorite. Sorry I got us into so much shit all the time, Buck." It was always Steve who would come up with crazy ideas and, even though Bucky would tell him they weren't exactly the smartest choice, he'd still insist on doing it and Bucky would go along with it. He was just hoping that his words were enough to distract from the blood, too, because neither of them needed to worry more.



James Barnes

James Barnes

Winter Soldier
Enhanced
100 years old
77 posts
Feb 15 2018, 08:27 PM


"You can go tomorrow if you want." It was best to just let him have his way, even if he wouldn't actually get it. He'd yell about that when Sam came back in a little bit with cough syrup and food and maybe that breathing stuff if they still made it. He'd written down a series of breathing treatments and steroids and cough syrup and sent enough money they wouldn't ask any questions... probably.

Bucky had shifted a little more so the weight of the metal arm was tugging less at his shoulder and it wound up with him pressing his forehead to the back of Steve's neck. He was warm, fever warm as if Bucky didn't already know, but it was fine. He wished they had hot water because he'd sit and soak, but the freezing water wasn't going to help his muscles or Steve's fever. It might break it but the chill would probably make him sicker. It was moments like this that he missed Steve's mom, his mom, because they always knew what to do. That was what it was, right? Them not there that felt like something was missing.

He wouldn't call whatever he was doing falling asleep, although the relief brought on by the arm not bending his spine and muscles was fantastic for what it was. If anything he was just letting himself go unconscious for a few seconds at a time because what else were they going to do? They just had to wait and it wasn't like he could get up and walk around or anything, this was comfortable.

When Steve spoke up he smiled even though the smaller guy couldn't see it, "Yeah, I do." He remembered it in still images like he'd seen pictures, but the words rang in his mind as true. "Remember when we convinced the other boys from the tenement to help us open that fire hydrant when it was so hot in August we were dying?" He was still coughing though and Bucky looked at the back of Steve's head, or as much as he could see of it anyway, and he hoped this would pass because you couldn't not wish well for the people you loved.



Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 16 2018, 06:53 AM
The moment that Steve felt Bucky's forehead against his neck, it made him smile, even through all the pain. It brought on more feelings than he had planned for and it just made him want more. Bucky's breath against his neck, it set his nerves on fire, even if he was already burning up. It was something so simple, but it brought him so much comfort, he couldn't even begin to explain it. Steve listened to Bucky, his own smile growing wider at the memory. How could he forget that? And then it hit Steve. Bucky actually remembered that. He couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that Bucky was actually starting to remember more and more and it brought on so much joy, he couldn't even begin to explain that. "We all stayed outside the whole day. I remember your mom having to drag us in for supper," he whispered, remembering like it was just yesterday. They had so many moments like this, everything was so simple and fun back then, and now that Steve was stuck in this body, he wanted to be back there, back when things weren't so serious.

Steve felt like he couldn't stop coughing. It was terrible and, as much as he loved the comfort that Bucky was giving him, he still felt like he couldn't catch his breath. With each intake of breath, Steve felt like he wasn't going to be able to calm this down. He was wheezing and, surely, his coughs sounded like the bark of a dog, but he couldn't stop it. He couldn't soothe it. It felt like it was never ending. He tried to sit up a little bit and continued to cough, trying to make it stop, trying to calm himself down, but once he started, it was really hard to stop. What felt like an agonizing hour of nonstop coughing, which in reality was only a few minutes, Steve finally slowly his breathing down and managed to even it out as best as he could. He wiped his mouth once again, ignoring the red on the back of his hand from the blood, and let his body lean back into Bucky, his back pressed against Bucky's chest. It was strange, being so small again, and being able to feel the steady heartbeat of his friend against his back. He'd done this so many times, and yet, it still felt brand new. It always felt brand new.

Steve took in a few even breaths and felt the chill settle back into his bones, the sweat gone, telling him that his fever had almost broke, or so he hoped, and that his body could finally relax. And then he had a thought. A bad one, but a thought nonetheless. "Buck? What if.. what if this is it? What if I'm stuck like this and it kills me?" he whispered, a small fear present in his voice. It he hadn't been exhausted and completely wrecked, he wouldn't have said anything, wouldn't have brought it up, but he was and he couldn't stop the words from leaving his mouth. He'd lived a long life, much longer than all the doctors told his mother that he would, so, what if this was his body's way of finally reverting back to how it was? Finally taking his life instead of giving him more? Fuck, that was scary. He'd been willing to die before, he'd been willing to risk everything for the people he loved, and he still would, but he wasn't ready to die just yet. He still had so much to live for and he could finally have his chance to truly show Bucky how much he meant to him. He hated the fact that it might all end before that. It felt like a cruel twist of fate.



James Barnes

James Barnes

Winter Soldier
Enhanced
100 years old
77 posts
Feb 16 2018, 07:23 PM


He didn't remember that. He remembered them opening a hydrant with about four other boys and a series of tools. He remembered the heat so bad it melted you no matter how many layers you could take off. He didn't remember all of it but he had to imagine if Steve said it then it was true. So much of who he was trying to get back to being relied on that. He would say something he half-remembered, Steve would fill in the details and Bucky would believe them. There was no reason for Steve to lie to him about anything after all, that seemed to be his job. "Yeah, that was a hell of a day."

Steve kept coughing though, and coughing and coughing. Every time a fit would start up Bucky would make sure his arm was far enough out of the way so that Steve wouldn't hurt himself on it and managed not to groan from the effort. This wasn't good, not in a place where he couldn't get him real, modern health care. Russia wasn't backward by any stretch, they had hospitals, but he would get noticed and Steve couldn't just go with Sam. One sick guy with all Steve's issues who didn't speak Russian would be obvious enough, but two obvious Americans would attract attention. Given what he was like now, he'd just make it worse if he tried to go out and help.

Between those bouts of coughing Bucky let himself drop in and out of consciousness again because it was as close to sleep as he was likely to get. He could hardly function to protect them if he needed to at this point, whatever help he could get he would take. He snapped out of it when Steve asked what would happen if he died.

"Don't say shit like that." He might have snapped a little bit because he was tired and in pain, but he also didn't want Steve thinking like that. "If you're not better pretty quick we'll hop a train or something and ride like hobos into Europe. You speak French right? They've got shit out there now that'll fix everything that's wrong with you, we just have to get to it."

He didn't really know that for sure, but how many diseases had the world gotten rid of since they were kids? Even if Steve was stuck like this they could fix most of it, enough that he could live a pretty normal life. "I wouldn't let you die on me before, I'm not going to now." Him on the other hand, if this was permanent, well his heart would probably give out from him trying to capably move before he could get anywhere. It wasn't like he could just walk in and go 'oh hey my metal arm is bothering me can you take a look?' without giving the game away but he could manage for now.



Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 16 2018, 08:14 PM
Flinching a little at the sound of Bucky's tone, Steve didn't say anything back right away. He hadn't meant to upset Bucky, he'd only meant to voice his own fears, his own concerns. Did they really have cures for everything that was wrong with Steve? That couldn't be possible. He'd suffered so much as a child and, even now, it was working through his body like a poison, how could medicine have gotten so advanced that things could be fixed? He didn't know. He hadn't had any of these problems when he wasn't on the run. "Yeah, I speak French," he muttered, still trying to let everything sink in. "You really think they can fix it all? The list is pretty damn long." Hell, Steve couldn't even begin to describe everything that was wrong with him. He was certain if he were to go to a doctor like this, they'd throw him into quarantine or something and the thought made him itch. He didn't need to be away from the people he loved, not right now. Right now was when he needed them the most, even if he'd never admit it. He started coughing again and quickly wiped his mouth when he was done, trying his best to keep his body in check while he figured out what else to say, to try to reassure Bucky, just like he was reassuring Steve. "I'm not going to give up without a fight." His words were interrupted with yet another coughing spell and fuck did it hurt. There was nothing he could do about it, though.

Steve let what Bucky said sink in as he closed his eyes. Would that really be the case, though? Would Bucky really be able to prevent his body from shutting down while he slept? No, he couldn't, but it was nice to hear that Bucky seemed determined to keep him alive. It meant a lot to Steve, more than he could ever even begin to admit. "Thanks, Buck. I don't know what I'd do without you. I know I bitch, but, I really do appreciate all you do for me," he whispered, letting his eyes fall shut, allowing his body to slowly start to calm down, only to be disturbed when another coughing fit wracked his frail body. It probably looked ridiculous, like he could be snapped in two if given the chance, and certainly no one would recognize him if they saw him like this. The only person who had was Bucky, the person he'd had by his side from the beginning. At least, if this was the end, he had the person the meant the most to him with his arms around him. "I love you. I didn't say it enough back then, I'm gonna say it plenty now." His words mushed together and, probably, were harder to understand than he would have liked, but he was getting tired. His head was pounding and he desperately needed sleep, but the coughing wasn't letting that happen. He let his eyes open again and fall on the wall across from the bed, wishing that there was a window. Then, maybe, he could see the sunrise when it came up, just like he used to watch for when his coughs would keep him awake in Brooklyn.

Steve let himself completely bask in the comfort and closeness of having Bucky's arms around him. He felt incredibly small, because he was, and feeling the pressure of someone you loved's arms around you? That was all he needed right now. But Bucky would never love him. Why would he? He was handsome and strong and here was Steve, the way he'd always been. He didn't say anything right away, letting the silence between them remain, only disrupted by the sounds of him coughing every now and then, but they weren't as harsh as they'd been and he could no longer taste blood, which was always a good sign. Steve then thought of something else and it worried him. Bucky had said he was fine before, but he'd seen the pain Bucky was in when this all had happened and Steve, of course, worried. "Buck? Are you really okay? If there's something wrong, I can go get whatever you need," he said, softly, knowing full well that he couldn't. If he stepped foot outside right now, especially with the fever that was still lurking in his system, he would probably die from pneumonia. But he wanted to help. He desperately wanted to help, even if it was the middle of the night or early in the morning. However you looked at it.



James Barnes

James Barnes

Winter Soldier
Enhanced
100 years old
77 posts
Feb 16 2018, 10:35 PM


He nodded, which basically just meant he was bumping his head against the back of Steve's neck, but he was pretty sure they could fix him up enough. It didn't have to be entirely, but they had inhalers, there was probably something he could take to help repair his heart somewhat, maybe not get him to a hunred percent but maybe seventy-five? Seventy-five was better than where he was.

"Show me how much you appreciate it by not giving up at all." He mumbled, because now he felt bad for snipping a little. It just hurt and he was tired now that he was in a position where he wasn't constantly hurting. He just didn't have the energy right now to argue with him, and Steve could be upset about it later -let him get mad and yell, Bucky was not afraid of him- just let Bucky be sort of comfortable and semi-conscious.

Bucky realized a little too late that Steve had been talking to him. He was mumbling and to be honest, Bucky was only half conscious at all at this point. "Mmhmm." It wasn't like Steve had never told him how much he appreciated everything, how much him being his friend meant to him, he just said it after all. It wasn't like Bucky didn't know. They had been all but inseparable since the first time they meant, they'd lived together, he'd managed to keep Steve alive long enough to be an idiot and get turned into Captain America. Even if he didn't know all the details he knew that much. Steve would stick by him and he'd stick by his Steve.

Naturally, the silence was broken when Steve asked if he was sure he was alright, and no, no he wasn't. What good did it do him to complain? He hurt some, ok, Steve's lungs were working at half capacity at best. He had no right to complain when he'd adjusted enough to functionish now. " 'M fine kid, get some sleep or you'll talk my ears off." He didn't mind really, it kept him from actually letting himself just pass out, but he knew Steve needed the sleep. They could figure things out in the morning when Sam was back and awake and they were both relatively in better shape. Yeah, that was as good an excuse as any.



Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 17 2018, 08:27 PM
Steve felt a small smile creep up on his features. He would definitely try to keep his word, to try to keep himself from slipping away in the middle of the night. Of course, he couldn't make any promises and there was always a slight chance his small body would send him a huge middle finger and give up when he finally allowed himself to relax, but he wasn't going to give up. He'd never give up, for Bucky. "Right, okay. I'll see what I can do. I don't want to leave you on your own now," he whispered, almost afraid to make his voice louder and wanting to prevent any more coughing spells. He didn't need one of those. He heard Bucky mutter a quick agreement with what he was saying and Steve's eyes went a little wide. Did he know what he was saying? Did he truly understand what he'd said? No way. There was no way that Bucky would even begin to understand how much Steve loved him and the more Steve thought about it, the more certain he became that Bucky would never love him back like that. Bucky had always had a way with women, they all wanted him and he seemed to want them. Why would he want Steve? His smile slowly faded and he let his eyes fall closed, taking his lower lip in his teeth. Part of him really wished that Bucky would love him, too, but the other part was more focused on Bucky being happy and that was all that Steve wanted. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Bucky. When he opened his eyes again, his eyes focused on the wall across from him, taking it in and just counting the cracks. There was no way he'd be able to sleep now. He had way too much running through his mind for that. He'd just let himself enjoy the feeling of Bucky's arms around him, keeping the chill away and stopping him from surely freezing, but, also from being alone. When he was younger, he would have fought this, he would have hollered at Bucky and told him that he could take care of himself. And, Steve really thought he could, but he wanted to be selfish for a little while and being in Bucky's arms surely was just that.

Steve let out a soft sigh because he knew that Bucky wasn't okay. He seemed like he was okay now, but as soon as he was up or moving around, Steve could see the pain that he was in. Just like Bucky could tell when Steve was trying to hide things, Steve could tell as well. It was one of the talents he'd gained after being friends with Bucky his entire life. "I can't help it. 'm not tired," he said, letting out a breath that was shortly followed by a short coughing spell, and gripping onto Bucky's pants pocket a little tighter. For some reason, he felt more comfortable having a grip on the other man, even if it wasn't a strong one. "'m worried about you." And he was, but if Bucky wanted him to stop talking so that he could get some rest, he would try to do just that, even though Steve had never really been all that good at being quiet. He coughed a few times and let his eyes fall shut, trying to get his mind to relax, but it didn't work. Nothing really worked the way it was supposed to. In his mind, he was still healthy and strong and could run and jump, but his body wasn't able to do that anymore. Not until whatever was going on was over, if it ever really ended. That was scary for Steve because, even though Bucky seemed to think there were cures out there for his problems, he was certain he'd never be able to see colors again, never be able to go for a morning run, never be able to do anything like he used to. No one would need him, then, not even Bucky. He tightened up the grip on Bucky's pants and bit down harder on his bottom lip, holding back everything that was going through his mind. He'd be okay, he just had to keep telling himself that. He'd be okay.

Steve hadn't realized when he'd fallen asleep, but the minute he was on his feet, he knew he was in a dream. He wasn't in the room anymore, but somewhere else. He took a step and looked down, he was wearing boots. It was snowing. Fuck, he thought to himself. He took a few steps forward and there, sitting on a rock with his back turned towards him were two people. A man and a woman. Steve slowly made his way over to it when, first, the woman turned around. It was Peggy. She was looking at him like he'd done something terrible, like she actually hated him. "It's all your fault," she said before turning again and standing on the rock. Next, the man stood up, at first, Steve didn't recognize him with shorter hair, but once his eyes adjusted, he knew it was Bucky. "You're the reason I was captured and tortured. It's all your fault." Steve felt tears start to build up in his eyes as he shook his head, quickly. "I'm so sorry, I tried, I just couldn't," he said, moving his gaze between the two of them before Bucky joined Peggy up on the rock. Steve watched as they looked at one another and turned their backs on him, walking to the edge and, without another word, both of them jumped. "No," he screamed, his voice echoing as he tried to lurch himself forward, to grab onto them, to stop this, but it was too late. "No!" This time, though, Steve wasn't just saying that in a dream. He was shaking, sweating terribly, and his breath was so quick it felt like his lungs were going to collapse right then and there. "No, no, no," he repeated before he finally opened his eyes and took in his surroundings, his body completely drenched in sweat and his breathing all over the place. He hadn't noticed the tears staining his cheeks, either, or the fact that his entire body felt like it was on fire. All he could think about was that dream and how it really was all his fault.



James Barnes
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