Chapter Text
It took you a while to realize you were awake, the dream where a Doc Brown kind of character was trying to sell you pencils bleeding into reality. You were trying to finish the transaction quickly before Bucky woke up, because he was against you buying more art supplies. But these pencils were so nice and at such a good price, too.
By the time you opened your eyes, the room was dark, not a speck of light anywhere, and the only input available was the breathing of the person next to you.
A full body shudder wrecked your body, and you realized then that you were completely wet, and cold because of that.
The last remaining working braincell screamed with alarm, that there was something wrong. The thing was, there were not any other braincells available to let the screaming one know what it was that was wrong.
You tried sitting up but it proved to be way too hard; the impulse didn't even leave your brain, your body just refused to even try to do that impossible task. You took the only other option available to you: slowly, veeeery slowly rotate to your side, your back to Bucky, while the wet sheets stuck to your skin and dragged in the process. As slowly as you had rotated, you moved your hand up and towards the bedside table where you kept the sugar packets. It was very important that you didn't do any brusque movements or Bucky would wake up, and that would be bad. At least that was what your brain was telling you, but it didn't supply the reason why that would be bad. And you were far too gone into the low-sugar spiral to even think about doubting that.
Your hand managed to snag the sugar packets' bag, but in the process of retrieving it, you knocked on your water bottle and it tumbled to the floor, making so much noise Bucky sprang up next to you.
Your back was to him, so you couldn't see what he was doing, but feeling really guilty you mumbled "perdon..." (sorry).
"What's wrong?" Briefly, over the haze of low blood sugar, you felt his hand touch your back. "Doll, you're drenched. Hang on."
As fast as he had sat up on the bed, he was gone, and you continued on your quest to get some sugar into your mouth. But before your fumbling fingers managed to even get a packet out of the bag, you were being hauled up and sat down, a straw in front of your lips. Your only available thought was to drink whatever it was that was in front of you, and you swallowed hungrily the cold orange juice.
The acidity and the cold of the juice hit your empty stomach like a punch, and you paused briefly to get accustomed to the sensation, but quickly kept on drinking. It wasn't long until you were sucking on air, and you registered Bucky asking "another?"
Your head nodded before it even dawned on you that he'd asked you something, and you weren't sure what you had said yes to, but it didn't matter because faster than you could process things, he was back with another pajita in front of your face, his right hands moving on circles over your back.
You downed half the bottle before having to pull his metal hand down, the one that was holding the OJ bottle for you to drink.
"Is that enough?"
You made a non committal movement with your shoulders: it wasn't like you were out of the woods yet, but your stomach couldn't handle any more liquid right now; you needed to take a breather.
Slowly, your consciousness expanded around you once more, and you noticed you were full-on shivering; the sheets where you were seated were drenched, your sleeping shirt stuck to your body, and your hair stuck to your face and neck uncomfortably. And then you realized Bucky's hand was moving in comforting circles on your back.
"Ugh, no, I'm disgusting," you said, trying unsuccessfully to shy away from his touch.
"You are not," he said, calmly, and waited for you to feel better.
You reached for the orange juice again and downed the rest of the bottle. Then, and with great effort, you started to try and peel the shirt of your damp skin, without any luck. Thankfully, Bucky got the idea and pulled the shirt off of you, throwing it to the floor next to your bedroom door where it landed with a wet 'splat'.
"Disgusting," you said again, and moved to try and get out of the bed. Your plan, as you'd done before when you woke as drenched as then, was to change your clothes, lay a towel over the mattress, pull the top sheet off the bed, and cover yourself with a blanket. The next day you'd have to change the sheets and air the mattress, and wash the towel, blanket and new pjs too, but after such a vicious insulin shock you were exhausted and didn't have any energy left.
This time though, Bucky was there to help you stand up.
"Are you feeling better?" He said, concern lacing his voice. "Do you need more juice?"
"I don't think so... I need to give it a moment." You patted his hand reassuringly. "Let me change my pj first, and I'll let you know."
You took the opportunity to go to the toilet, too. Even if it wasn't urgent right now, the amount of juice you'd drank would wake you up in a few hours if you didn't pee before laying back down.
By the time you got back to the bedroom, Bucky was tucking the blanket under the foot of the mattress.
"I changed the sheets," he explained, and your heart soared. "Here," he handed you clean underwear and one of his bigger shirts, "change into these."
You shimmied into the dry clothes, and didn't tumble to the ground thanks to Bucky's assistance. You let yourself be led by him back to the bed and laid down practically on top of him. You patted your side of the mattress and noticed he'd lay a towel down before putting in the clean sheets. So you've definitely sweat into the mattress, too.
"I'm sorry," you said, your voice muffled against his chest.
"For what?"
"For scaring you, and waking up, and having to deal with me all sweaty and horrible and-"
"You should've woken me from the start."
"I.... I don't know, something about my dream mingling with reality and the terribly low sugar level made me feel like you seeing me like this was a bad idea."
He sighed, half-resigned. You didn't have the brainpower to understand the other half.
"Don't, please. Please, doll, just wake me up next time."
"Alright," you mumbled, already drifting back to sleep.
"You promise?"
"Yeah..." you said, and sleep took you back into their arms.