Bucky lay in bed, consumed by fever. His blanket, tangled and disheveled, mirrored the chaos of his restless movements. The heat radiating from his body made his breath come in labored gasps, each inhale sharp with discomfort. His dreams were plagued by haunting memories of his time with Hydra, amplifying his feverish distress. His chest rose and fell erratically, the oppressive heat making each breath a struggle as he grappled with both physical and emotional torment.
He groaned with each labored breath, his suffering escalating rapidly, his body wracked with pain. His movements became increasingly erratic, his body twitching and convulsing uncontrollably as his breathing grew more ragged. His eyes were tightly shut, trying to block out the relentless pain, while his groans transformed into loud, distressing moans. As the fever intensified, his tossing and turning became frantic, each violent spasm of his body a stark testament to the nightmarish torment he was enduring. The heat and discomfort melded with his fevered dreams, amplifying his agony and leaving him trapped in a relentless cycle of suffering.
He clenched his teeth tightly, his eyes squeezed shut in a futile attempt to escape the pain. His face contorted in anguish as his breathing became increasingly rapid and labored. Each groan and moan grew louder, a reflection of the relentless suffering wracking his body.
He pounded his metal fist against the bed, the clanging sound adding to the chaos of his fevered state and the dream he was seeing. His flesh hand was clenched tightly, knuckles white with strain. His movements, driven by torment, became more erratic, while his breathing remained rapid and shallow, offering little relief amidst the escalating suffering.
He continued to groan and moan loudly, his cries becoming desperate as fear and pain mingled in his vocalizations. His sounds morphed into grunts of sheer anguish, each one reflecting his deepening suffering. His restless movements caused the blanket and sheets to become increasingly tangled and disheveled. The repeated pounding of his metal fist against the bed echoed through the room, adding to the cacophony of his distress. Sweat drenched his body, exacerbating the discomfort as he tossed his head back painfully, the pillow offering no respite from his feverish and nightmarish ordeal. “No…please…stop…get…stop…no…stop…I…no…don't…I beg…you…. please stop…please”, he mumbled as he continued breathing heavily and struggling. “Get…off…stop…stop”
Steve returned with a bowl of soup, setting it aside as he noticed Bucky’s suffering. His heart ached at the sight of Bucky's distress. He quickly rose, rinsed a cloth in cool water, and returned to kneel beside his friend. Gently, he placed the damp cloth on Bucky’s forehead, trying to soothe his fevered brow. Bucky moaned in discomfort, his body twitching involuntarily. Bucky appeared to be deteriorating with each passing moment, his movements and sounds becoming increasingly distressing. Steve's frown deepened as he listened to Bucky’s pained moans and groans, clearly struggling in the throes of his feverish nightmare. He squeezed his eyes shut, his face contorted in anguish as he gritted his teeth as he wildy tossing his head faster than before, letting his brunette hair scattered burying the crumbled pillow. His sweaty, bare chest heaved rapidly from the intensity of the nightmare. Bucky’s metal fist clenched the bed tightly, and Steve heard the tearing sound of the sheet as Bucky's grip tightened. His flesh hand grew pale from the strain. “No...don't...please...get...it...off...me”
Steve spoke softly, his voice filled with concern, “Bucky, shh. It’s me. Wake up, Bucky. Wake up”
Bucky continued mumbling and he let out a weak groan and slowly fluttered his eyes open. Through his fevered haze, he focused on the familiar figure above him. His gaze fixed on Steve, relief mingling with his discomfort as he struggled to make sense of the comforting presence. He slowly turned his head sluggishly as he let out a cough. Steve pressed the cloth on his forehead and Bucky gasps at the sudden cooling touch then groaned in pain from the fury pain from his body from his movements. “Easy, Bucky. Easy”
Bucky fluttered his eyes open, groaning in pain as he focused on Steve’s face. His gaze, though weary and pained, remained fixed on Steve, searching for a semblance of reassurance amid his suffering while ignoring the pain all over his body as his fever. He smiled as he continued feeling a soft and wet rag dampening his forehead. “Hiya, punk”
“Hiya, jerk”, Steve grinned. “How are you doing, pal?” He asked cheerfully yet his voice was such in concern.
Bucky coughed heavily, each wheeze bringing a wince of pain, but he forced a smile. “Been...,” he gasped between coughs, “better”
Steve continued to adjust the cloth to comfort his friend, staying close by his side. “I got you some soup and after that try to go back to sleep, okay?”
Bucky nodded, appreciating the soft, damp rag and reluctant to let go of either it or Steve. Steve adjusted the pillows to help Bucky sit up comfortably, then gently picked up the bowl and began feeding him spoonfuls of soup. Bucky looked at the warm, comforting bowl Steve had made and began enjoying the hot, refreshing soup.
He finished the soup and groaned in pain, feeling his body burning and heavy as he collapsed into bed. Steve set the empty bowl down on the stand and sat on the bed, positioning himself close to Bucky to offer comfort. He heard Bucky’s labored wheezes, coughs, and whimpers of pain, which were clearly visible on his face.
Steve got up to rinse the rag again, then returned to the bed and gently patted it on Bucky’s hot and sweaty forehead. As Bucky's breathing grew more labored, with his nostrils flaring and closing rapidly, Steve watched as his chest rose and fell unevenly. Bucky struggled to relax, breathe, and fight through the discomfort with his eyes tightly shut.
Steve watched helplessly as Bucky suffered, his eyes filling with tears. He listened to Bucky’s deep, ragged coughs that quickly turned into rapid, wheezing breaths. Bucky whimpered from the pain in his lungs, causing his breathing to become even more frantic. “Oh, God, Bucky…”
Bucky struggled to open his eyes and saw the tears welling up in Steve’s eyes. Despite another fit of coughing, he managed a weak smile and reached out to gently wipe the tear from Steve’s cheek. “Hey, hey, hey, come on now, punk. No tears. I'll live. It's not like I'm dying or anything”, he smirked, trying to offer him comfort.
Steve makes a weak chuckle as he lets out a sob. “Definitely don't want that to happen”, he let out another rain of tears at the thought.
Bucky gently wiped more of the tears from his cheeks. “Hey, Steve, hey…”, he coughed again. “I'm gonna be alright. I'll live, punk. So stop being a wimp”
Steve sniffled, letting out a sobbing chuckle as he pressed a kiss to Bucky's metal palm. He held it close to his cheek, feeling the cool metal begin to warm from the contact with his skin.
Bucky continued to wipe Steve's cheeks, his own pain momentarily forgotten as he managed a weak smile. “Remember...when we were younger...how…wild and…crazy we were...back then?” he murmured, his voice faltering as he coughed and chuckled.
Steve let out a heartfelt chuckle, nodding as he placed his free hand on Bucky's feverish cheek, trying to ignore the heat radiating from it. With a tender smile, he nodded in agreement. “We were playing in the mud while it rained, we were rolling around and having mud wars, throwing clumps of it at each other and we got all dirty,” Steve reminisced wistfully. Oh, how he longed for those innocent, carefree days.
Bucky laughed softly at the memory, but the laughter turned into a pained cough as he rocked in bed, struggling to breathe. Steve knelt closer, his eyes quickly filling with tears. Bucky wheezed, then managed a gentle chuckle, his smile barely visible through his discomfort. Lying on his side with his face pressed against the crumpled pillow, he struggled to get comfortable and managed a faint smirk. “Boy, we were like animals back then, were we?”
“You bet we were”, Steve softly chuckled.
“Then…you started coughing and sneezing, and you looked like…you were getting…” Bucky began, but he was interrupted by a coughing fit.
“Bucky, stop. Stop talking. You need to rest,” Steve urged with his voice of worry, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “Just try to get some sleep”
He coughed again, turning his head back to him with his eyes closed, heavy to the hopeful peace of sleep as he felt Steve patting the rag on his forehead. He shook his head, then inhaled deeply, letting his chest rise as he forced air into his burning lungs then continued. “You were…in bed…and…I stayed with you…refusing to…leave…you…no matter how…many times…my folks and yours…telling me to…leave…but…I…stayed with you”, he finally finished while he continued coughing and breathing heavily as he smiled up at Steve.
He nodded, his eyes welling up with tears as he struggled to comfort Bucky. Despite the sobs, he managed a smile. “I…felt so safe…with you. You helped me get…better…just by being there, even when things got worse”
“Hey, punk”, Bucky smirked, and lifted his hand to wipe the tears. “What did I say about the tears?” He playfully threatened.
Steve chuckled as he held Bucky's hand. “Right. Sorry”, he sniffed, wiping his tears.
Bucky chuckled then wheezed a cough. “I'm gonna be okay, Steve. I'm gonna be okay, buddy, I promise”
Steve leaned in, trying to avoid the heat of Bucky’s fevered forehead, and chuckled tearfully as he placed a gentle kiss in the center. He then rested his own forehead against Bucky’s and murmured, “You better be”
He chuckled again as he held Steve close, holding the back of his head by his metal. “I will, baby. I promise I will be okay, Steve…after all…I have you being here with me”, he smiled.
Steve kissed Bucky’s forehead and nuzzled his nose. “And I’ll stay right here with you until you get better, just like you stayed with me back then and still do,” he said softly.
Bucky’s eyes filled with tears as he managed a smile. “I…didn’t…stay with you the whole, you know. I didn't remember you…after Hydra…the damn chair…my memories…of…the fall…my…arm…my…family…my…life…myself…you…” He weakly started to cry then he chuckled as Steve nuzzled then kissed his nose, then lips, and forehead, then rested his own forehead against Bucky’s. With his eyes closed, Bucky felt the weariness of sleep settling over him.
“Shh, and sleep, Bucky. Try to get some rest and get better, baby. Sleep now”
Bucky weakly grasped Steve's shirt, pulling him closer. He clung to him, not wanting him to be away for even a moment. Steve kissed his lips. “Sleep, Bucky, try to get better”
He coughed a weak cough and moaned tiredly.
“Shh, rest, Bucky. Sleep”
“I'll try…just…stay with me, alright?” He begged. “Don't…leave me…alone, okay…please?”
Steve gently took hold of the chair and sat down, remaining close as Bucky clung to his shirt. “I'll never leave you, Bucky, and I'm not leaving you now and never”, he vowed.
Bucky makes another chuckle with a weak cough. “You have always been a wimp, Rogers”
He chuckled back and kissed his lips.
“I love you, Steve”
“I love you too, Bucky”
“Till the end of the line?” Bucky asked weakly and finally was silent.
“Till the end of the line”
Steve writhed in bed, his body wracked with pain as he coughed and wheezed, struggling to find a comfortable position. Despite his efforts, the fever and discomfort made sleep seem elusive. Bucky sat quietly beside him, his arms resting on the bed with his chin propped up, his gaze fixed intently on his friend.
Steve's mother entered the room with a gentle expression. She walked over to Steve, placing a tender kiss on his forehead and patting the blanket soothingly. The sound of Steve's labored breathing and coughing filled the room, but her presence seemed to offer a small measure of comfort amidst the suffering. Bucky continued staring at his friend. “James, dear, come on. You need to eat. You don't look so good, come on, darling. Steve will be fine”, James' mother said.
He shook his head. “I'm okay. I don't want anything”
His mother tried again. “James…”
“I don't want to leave him”
Steve's mother, gratefully patted him on the shoulder. “James, go home. I'll look after Steve, you need to rest”
He shook his head in great stubbornness. “I'm okay”
“James Buchanan Barnes…”, his mother sternly said his name.
Bucky gripped the blanket in a tight grip as he shook his head. “Not leaving him”
The mothers stared at the boy and the sickly boy and they smiled at him and his mother kissed him on the head. “Are you spending the night, darling?”
Bucky held the blanket tighter.
“Alright, James. We will get you something to eat and once we bring it in you eat, understand?” Bucky's mother said.
He nodded.
After his mother and Steve’s mother left the room, Bucky was finally alone with his friend. The room fell into a quiet rhythm of Steve’s raspy breathing. Bucky gently placed a cool, damp cloth on Steve’s forehead, having just wrung it out from a bowl of cool water. Steve’s eyes fluttered open slightly, his gaze meeting Bucky’s.
Steve smiled as he grabbed Bucky's shirt that was clean from the mud. Bucky smiled. “Bucky…will you stay with me?”
He nodded with a loyal smile. “Don't worry, Steve. I'll be right here. Promise”
“Till…the…end…of the…line?”
“Till the end of the line”