Illness sucks
When I woke up again, it was full dark and the house was quiet. The alarm clock said it was almost midnight. I got up and wobbled to the bathroom, grateful that it was en suite. I took the opportunity to wash my face and brush my teeth and felt slightly more human afterward. I noticed, when I opened the door to the bedroom, that the blinds over all the windows had been put down. I smiled slightly.
"How are you feeling?" that accented voice asked from the doorway, and I jumped, not expecting anybody to be around. When I turned and saw Loki, he smiled and held out his arms. I cuddled in for a hug, not caring for a minute that the room was slightly spinning.
"Glad to see you," I muttered into his shirt. "I'm sorry that I forgot you were due to arrive. I meant to make your bed and put out the towels--"
"It is quite all right," he said crisply. "Between the two of us, my brother and I managed to make the bed." I looked up and he frowned slightly. "All right, the twins showed us how to address the infernal 'fitted' sheet and provided an order for the coverlets, later. Thor and I found you insensible in the bathroom."
"What a treat for you guys," I muttered.
"Quite. Now, back in bed. You are not to become chilled, and your garment is brief." He followed me to the bed and drew up a chair after giving me more Tylenol and water. "The Avengers are here for conferences at the UN designed to address those with powers above your species. Having learned from the Sokovia Accords, this time representatives from prominent groups of supers are helping to craft the guidelines. My brother is discussing the idea of having an embassy here on Midgard."
"I'd forgotten about that," I said, yawning. The little dogs came in and crowded by Loki's feet. "You've got a fan club all ready?"
"They have excellent taste in companions," he said modestly, and I chuckled. "You, on the other hand..." he gave me a reproving glance. "Are you that desperate for companions that you were willingly in company with a Peeping Tom with precious little in the way of social graces in a silly rubber suit?"
I scowled. "When you put it like that, it sounds bad."
Suddenly he burst into laughter. "Your revelation caused quite a lot of consternation," he said fondly. "The odd man in the costume came quite...unglued, I believe was the way Wilson put it. He apparently felt that his identity was inviolate behind his little domino mask and cowl." He shook his head. "Stark started to badger him, Rogers wanted to know about your social experience with him, Romanov wanted to know how he'd tracked you down--he said that he followed your cab, did you really have to stop for extra nourishment? Does he not have enough money to feed you adequately? And then the stated purpose of the unorthodox visit came out; some adversary of his developed a supercharged virus and he decided to test it in New York; this 'Batman' feels that it was released in the subway. When he was unable to contact you over a period of days, he decided to check on you. Apparently this information will be coming out in the news outlets soon."
A little box near the alarm clock sprang to life. "Good evening, Emma and..." there was a pause as it scanned Loki with a narrow beam of blue light. "Loki. Please take your temperature, Emma." I reached out for the thermometer; after a moment, it beeped and I read it off-- still 102. "Please take a dose of Tylenol, Emma, consumed with at least eight ounces of water. Twelve or sixteen ounces would be better." Loki had to verify that I'd taken the medicine earlier and I drank more water. I got the improbable feeling that the bossy little box was irritated that I'd taken medicine on my own schedule. "I will alert you at six a.m. for your next dose and I will be monitoring you until then. I will summon assistance should your condition deteriorate. Now you need to sleep." A little light on the box dimmed.
"What is that?" I asked.
"It is a portable form of the AI that is in the quinjets. It was a way to be sure you were monitored without having a human attendant who might disturb you. It is thought that you are still infectious and the unenhanced Avengers were warned away by your suitor. The supersoldiers are cleared to visit since their immune systems are stronger than normal, and Thor and I are not susceptible to Earth infections. Wilson will use a filtering mask and some sort of protective covering when he comes to check on you." He reached over and twitched the sheet higher. "Now go to sleep. We will talk later." I chuckled when he got up; the little dogs followed him out.
The AI woke me up at six on the nose. My temperature remained steady and I felt dragged out and gross. I took a quick shower so I didn't reek and changed t-shirts reluctantly. Bucky's shirt was soft and comforting, but the trace of his aftershave had faded away. I didn't want to wear any of my nightgowns--they were all silk slips that were pretty and comfortable, but they weren't warm and comforting. I had to wear my own t-shirt, and I pulled a pair of panties from the bureau as I went back to bed. The shower turned out to be a mistake of sorts in retrospect since now I could smell the sheets; I'd sweated a lot when my fever was so high, apparently. I coaxed Sigurd off the bed and slowly changed the sheets. I dumped them by the door; I'd wash them later when I was better. I wasn't going to ask anybody to do my gross laundry. The AI spoke sharply to me and ordered me back to bed. I kept my mouth shut and did what I told; I was going to do it anyway not that the bed was clean. I felt weak and depressed and sick and disgusting as I huddled next to Sigurd for comfort. Scared too, a little; I didn't want to think of what the most likely scenario would have been if Loki and Thor hadn't found me in time.
I woke up again a little before nine when Bucky showed up with some breakfast: toast, scrambled eggs, and orange juice. "You have to have nutrients, even if you're not hungry," he said sternly. "This bug is taking a lot out of you. Sit up." I did, and he put the tray on my lap. I made myself eat most of it and drank all the juice, and he accepted that and took it away. Sigurd replaced the tray with his head, and I skritched and petted. He sighed in contentment. At nine precisely the AI made me take my temperature and inquired about my symptoms. Bucky and Steve showed up while the AI was giving me hell for changing my sheets. The AI scanned them and acknowledged their presence before ordering me to rest. Steve's eyes got icy as he checked me for hydration and gave me a glass of water.
"Sam went out on a limb treating you here," he said critically. "Least you could do is rest and not undo his work."
"I probably should have gone to the hospital," I mumbled.
"They don't have needles that will go through your skin," he snapped.
"I've got a supply of them in the bathroom and in my car," I said. "There's one in my purse." I rubbed my forehead. "Why are you yelling at me?"
"Captain Rogers, you are distressing the patient, Emma. I will call for a security force to remove you if you don't change your tone." The AI kicked in sternly, and I felt more kindly toward it. Sigurd growled at Steve and draped himself over my legs.
"Fine. Shit," Steve snapped, and marched out. Sigurd whined softly and licked my hand. There was a sigh from Bucky, who'd been leaning against the wall by the bathroom. I'd forgotten he was there.
"Headache?" he asked, and when I confirmed, the AI said I could have another Tylenol. He shook it out of the bottle and gave it to me. I was still clutching the glass of water Steve had handed me. "Ok, doll, take this." He waited until I chugged the water, then took the glass and suggested that I lay down again. Sigurd sat up when Torburn came in and jumped off the bed. Torburn came to snuggle, putting his head on his paws by my shoulder. I closed my eyes, the ceiling was boring. I heard Steve swearing.
"She's fucking angelic for you," he finally said.
"I know your mother told you that you catch more flies with honey," Bucky said patiently. "Maybe it was my mom. Somebody's mom, anyway. You can't yell at her now. She'll start fussing about how she's making work for everybody; I'm surprised she hasn't done that already, she must be feeling really bad if it hasn't occurred to her yet. You know she's really fastidious and apparently she was really bothered. If you want her not to not to clean, you should--" I missed the last part by falling asleep.
I woke up again at the AI's insistence to take more Tylenol at noon, my temperature holding steady. And again at one. I listened carefully, but the house was quiet. I stretched a little and got up, feeling a little lightheaded, so I moved carefully. I brought a book into the bathroom with me and started the water, adding some soft-smelling bubble bath. The Epsom salts were too strong right now. I stood up and stripped off my clothes, then wobbled a little, off balance. "Whoa," I said, putting my hand on the wall.
"Dizzy?" Bucky said, putting his hands on my waist. I jumped.
"Didn't hear you come up," I said in explanation.
"Took off my shoes," he said, and I looked down. Yep, he was in socks. "What's with all the showers and baths?" he asked, his voice soothing, as I put my foot into the water. "You can't wash off the germs that are making you sick."
"No, but I feel better in the water," I said, and gratefully sank into the water.
He pulled out his phone and Googled something frowning. "It would probably be best if you don't take too many, it says that it might break your fever too early and the viruses or bacteria could mount a second attack." I made a face.
"And now for something completely different," he said, smirking at me.
"When did you watch Monty Python?" I asked.
"Started watching a couple months ago. So would you like to explain how you got all those bruises?"
Err. "Not really," I said. "I've taken up a lot of different forms of physical activity," I said to distract him. "Boxing, rock wall climbing, swimming. Yoga." I thought the boxing would do it; after all, fists had produced most of the bruises.
"Yoga did that? That's interesting," his voice was entertained. "Downward dog?"
"No, it's not that exciting a class. Boxing."
"I'd buy it except for what looks like an object hit your hip. Something thin, like a pipe." His voice chilled. He was good at the guessing. It had been a pipe, and it had hurt like a beast. I just shrugged. I had to remember that I didn't have to answer if I didn't want to.
"Did that guy Wayne put that mark on you?" Now his voice was flat and tinged with a Russian accent.
I sat up immediately. Whoopsie. My face flushed, and his turned the color of the star he used to have on his arm. I sank back under the bubbles quickly. "No, not at all," I said. "I don't think he ever actually touched me on the date." His eyes were flat and hard as he studied my face, then he relaxed slightly.
Assassination averted. Whew.
"So he's gay."
"Doubt it," I said, amused slightly. "Just wound really tight. Not every guy thinks I'm amazing, Bucky."
He was about to say something but hesitated, then smirked. "So it must be because of this." He held up the hip sash from my costume.
Eep.
"Is it was some sort of bondage aid?."
"Where did you find that?" I asked, trying to divert him.
"It was in your hand washing. I was doing your laundry."
"Oh, damn it," I said, unable to suppress a tremor in my voice. He looked concerned.
"What's wrong?"
"Now I can't be mad at you for snooping if you did my laundry."
"If I'd known what was in it, I'd have just stuck to the machine loads," he said, fanning himself briefly. "That was a whole education in lingerie." I couldn't help it, I flushed a bit.
"I'll get you t-shirt back to you when I--"
"Already done," he said. "The sheets are in the dryer now, your clothes in the washer." I sighed.
"What?" he leaned forward.
"I wasn't actually going to give your shirt back," I confessed. He looked confused.
"Emma, it has a hole in the arm."
I shrugged. "It smelled good," I said softly, and a confident smirk crossed his face.
"I'd better get out now," I said to change the subject, but it was also true, the bubbles were fading fast and I thought flashing him once was more than enough. He got up and went outside. I crawled out of the bathtub and dried off before dressing and padding out.
"Feel better?" he asked, and I nodded. "Then I'll bring up your lunch. You won't get stronger if you don't eat," he said sternly, and walked with me over to the bed. I got back between the sheets and sighed. "I can't believe you like such a soft mattress," he said as I leaned back on the headboard. The AI scanned me but didn't say anything.
"I love them like that," I said. "Steve needs a really firm mattress, but I'm indulging myself now." He shook his head and left.
He came back with chicken soup, with wide egg noodles, big shreds of chicken, and carrots, celery and onion you could actually see. It looked like a big commitment to finish. There was a piece of crusty bread and a glass of lemonade. Bucky crossed his arms after he put the tray on my lap. "I will feed you like a two year old," he said threateningly, and I meekly picked up my spoon. It smelled good and tasted even better. For the first time in days, I found myself actually wanting to eat something.
"Wow. Where did this come from?" I asked between bites.
He looked uneasy. "I made it," he said cautiously "You have cookbooks..."
"Wow," I said again. "You have very important hidden talents." He smiled. Steve came in, looking tired. He looked at my tray and his eyebrows lifted.
"Any more of that?"
"Yeah, I can always make more," Bucky said, buffing his nails. I chuckled but kept eating.
"Long day?" I asked Steve neutrally after Bucky went back downstairs.
"Yeah, but at least there's progress and they don't want to lock us up," he said. "Can I sit?" he indicated the chair by the bed and I nodded. "I'm sorry for barking at you this morning," he said. "I know you feel awful and it didn't help. It just upsets me to see you so sick." Sam came through the door in a Tyvek suit and respirator, preventing from continuing, and he checked the AI's records.
"You don't look like moldy bread anymore," he said, and I dribbled soup down my front in shock. "You were white and greenish and had these black circles under your eyes, but you look better some. I'm worried about your fever, though," he said as I mopped up. "If your fever doesn't go down, you need to go to a doctor." I nodded, and Sam looked relieved. We chatted a bit more and he left so to minimize exposure. Bucky came up and handed Steve a bowl of soup, grinning.
"Next time eat first, bathe later," he advised and took my tray. "I'll bring some more lemonade."
"Thank you," I said. "That was a great lunch." He looked pleased and paused by the dresser, pulling out a clean t-shirt, tossing it on the bed.
"This really is good," Steve said, where he was inhaling soup. I turned my back on him and quickly changed t-shirts. Sigurd wagged his tail and picked up the soupy one, running it into the bathroom to the hamper.
"I love that dog," I said affectionately, and snuggled down. Both big dogs hopped up on the bed.
"I"m glad you got them back," Steve said. "I can't imagine how you felt when they were taken away."
"It was tough." I didn't want to talk about it. Bucky came back with more lemonade, a bendy straw in the glass, and a basketful of clean, folded clothing. He poked around a little, putting things away. I started to laugh when I saw the fitted sheet. It was just wadded up. Steve started to laugh too, and I explained how to fold that kind of sheet. It was cute to see them working on it. I slept most of the rest of the afternoon, waking up for the AI's mandated checks and medication. At six, my temperature went down to 101. Maybe I was getting better.