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Steve’s eyes cracked open to the tune of Entry of the Gladiators playing on his alarm and the hum of noise from the television. Him and Cesare had spent the night before chatting and watching TV, like they used to before they got divorced on a whim again.
It was nice, being back in the damp, dark cave that Cesare called home. It wasn’t the most comforting place physically, but to Steve, it hit the spot mentally.
Speaking of, he wasn’t currently in the most comfortable spot physically, with Cesare’s angular, soggy body pressed up against him.
Soggy?
Cesare was clammy and sweaty but he wasn’t… that sweaty.
Steve turned his head to face Cesare’s sleeping form. It was only then he noticed just how tight of a grip Cesare had on him, just how creased his eyebrows were. How warm he was compared to usual.
“Cesare?” Steve’s voice was rougher than usual, heavy with sleep.
Cesare didn’t wake up.
Prying bony hands off of himself, Steve sat up to face the other side of the bed.
With the new absence of Steve’s warmth, sleeping Cesare instinctively curled in on himself. As he cleared the sleep from his eyes, Steve realized just how horrible Cesare actually looked.
His sunken eyes had deeper, darker circles than before, face pinched in what seemed to be discomfort, and his slight form was folded into a little circle with a heavy sheen of sweat that glued his ratty hair to his forehead.
Steve sighed, grabbing Cesare’s shoulder and shaking until he was rewarded with a low grumble of annoyance.
Cesare looked up back at him, squinting in the low light from the TV they’d left on from the evening before.
“Steve did you… did you secretly install an AC unit while I was sleeping? Because it must be colder than a Siberian winter in this damn cave. You must’ve been fast an’ quiet ‘cause I really don’t think I’m that heavy of a slee-”
The last raspy word was cut off with a painful sounding cough that rattled Cesare’s already fragile undead body.
In a fit of worry, Steve leaned down and pressed his chapped lips to Cesare’s forehead.
Definitely warm.
“What- What are you doing, Steve? Is my good morning kiss on the lips getting moved to a different location?”
Steve’s face contorted with concern as he realized how hard this could possibly be. The last time Cesare had caught some kind of illness, it was back during their third honeymoon and they had to spend their entire Cesare-planned vacation lazing around because Cesare himself was too sick to do anything.
“N- no, it’s just- I’m just worried. About you.”
He turned to fully face Cesare, who had pulled the thick comforter over himself further.
Steve pushed it right back off and plucked Cesare’s frail little body off the bed.
Immediately he yelped, hollowed eyes flying open as he flailed around, freaked at the sudden interruption of his partial-sleep before his bony frame was held up against Steve’s warm body.
The gears in Cesare’s shaken, half-asleep brain turned, trying to piece together how to respond.
“STEVE… Stephen… Stevie… What did I do to deserve such… such treatment from y-”
He broke out into another coughing fit that was accentuated with a nasty sounding sneeze at the end, effectively shutting him up.
Steve set Cesare down on the bathroom floor, watching as he pulled his gangly legs to his chest.
“Cesare, I think you might’ve… caught something,” Steve’s gruff voice was laced with uncertainty, “Like a sickness.”
Cesare just stared up at him with cracked bleary eyes still clouded with sleep and sighed.
“You think so?”
Steve sighed, “I’m gonna run a bath.”
After turning the faucet to a carefully selected warm temperature, Steve lifted Cesare’s skeletal arms and pulled off the oversized (stolen from Steve) Weird Al t-shirt he used as pajamas. Steve tossed the shirt to the side and started on Cesare’s undergarments.
He carefully unraveled the bandages wrapping Cesare’s torso, ever-so-warily as to not cause pain in the never-healing knife wounds that adorned his back and lower ribs. He slid Cesare’s sleep shorts off and tossed them aside into the forming pile.
Steve yanked his own pajamas off as well, just some underwear and socks. He lifted Cesare up off the ground and helped him into the bath, keeping his shaky body steady. Cesare noticeably grimaced as the warm water touched the cuts on his body, but he slowly relaxed ever-so-slightly when Steve had him fully in the bath.
Despite the somewhat visible steam coming from the water, Cesare was still shivering like a leaf on a windy October day. Like someone dipped him in a lake and placed him in a freezer.
Steve pulled Cesare closer to himself, despite being in a bathtub that was already small enough to squish them in a position that would be uncomfortably personal if it were anyone else.
“I’m… hoping the steam will clear your sinuses.” Steve mumbled into Cesare’s ear, as he cupped his hands and started to pour water over Cesare’s sweaty hair.
Steve grabbed the shampoo off of the side of the tub, squirting some into his hand and slathering it in Cesare’s hair. Cesare hummed as Steve began rubbing it in, massaging his aching skull and slowly ridding it of what felt like a small amount of cotton inside his head.
They sat there, Steve leaving the shampoo to sit and knead Cesare’s tight shoulder muscles instead, pausing every so often to check on the state of his consciousness. At the point Cesare’s head hung at the height of his shoulders, Steve patted him awake and placed a hand on Cesare’s upper neck.
“I don’t really know how else to do this so- so I’m, uh, gonna dunk you to get this out of your hair, okay?”
“Uh-huh. Dunk me in 3-”
Only hearing the go ahead, Steve shoved Cesare’s head down under the surface of the water, a few inches off from directly under the faucet. Although Cesare didn’t really need to even breathe, panic took over and he used what little illness-sapped strength he could muster to frantically get his himself back above the water.
Hitting his head on the edge of the faucet on his way up.
Steve winced as Cesare’s hands grabbed at the injury, groaning in pain. Steve placed a gentle hand on Cesare’s shoulder but it was swatted away immediately in a display of anger.
Cesare turned to face Steve, with a soggy expression of fury painted on his face.
“I SAID- I was- I was COUNTING I was in the middle of the countdown, Steve. Next time- next time you-“ Cesare’s yelling didn’t do his sandpapered vocal chords any favors and he broke out into a coughing fit again.
He looked over at Cesare, who was still hacking up a lung. “I’m so-“ He started.
Cesare cleared his throat before cutting Steve off, “Don’t… don’t talk to me right now. Go… make the bed or something.” He sniffled, shooing Steve away.
Startled and feeling guilty, Steve stepped out of the tub and onto the mat, grabbing a towel and beginning the task requested of him. A distraught look was etched on his face as he toweled himself off.
Steve frowned and walked out of the bathroom with the towel, knowing that making Cesare more upset would just cause problems for the both of them.
Twenty or so minutes had passed before Cesare’s hoarse yelling began again.
“Steeeeve… Steve, the water is cold, Steve.” Echoed from the bathroom, disrupting the partial peace and quiet that had manifested in the bedroom.
Steve had made the bed, as requested of him, and sat patiently scrolling iFunny on the little phone that Penny got him as a birthday gift. Every once in a while he’d heard Cesare sniffle, cough, or mumble in frustration at having to wash himself… by himself.
Since he’d kicked Steve out.
“Steeeepheen… Steve pleeeaase.” Cesare droned on from the other room, snapping Steve out of his zone.
Steve slid off the bed, powering down his phone before he shuffled back to the bathroom.
“Steve, the water is cold now.” Cesare crossed his arms indignantly, still plagued by fever tremors.
“I… I can’t do… anything about that…” Steve muttered, trying not to upset Cesare any further, “How… how about you dry off and go lay down? I think it might help with the… the shivering.”
In an exaggerated display of annoyance, Cesare threw his hands up and rolled his eyes.
“Fine. Fine. Just don’t- hit my head this time.” Cesare sniveled, another visible tremble running through his body.
“Sorry.”
Sighing, Steve began to drain the lukewarm water, watching Cesare curl in on himself as he realized he’d be colder before he got warmer.
Cesare stared Steve down as Steve looked around for a towel, sighing after realizing he took the last towel himself when he got out earlier.
Steve opened the closet door, running his hands through his hair in exasperation when an extra towel wasn’t to be found.
“You’re gonna have to use, uh, the towel I used. We don’t… have any more.”
Cesare just glared at him, shaking too hard to form a sentence in response.
Steve grabbed the towel he’d used off the floor and swung it around Cesare’s skeletal shoulders before taking his hand and helping Cesare up out of the empty bath.
“Thi- this’s- it’s still damp, Steve!” Cesare’s shaking voice driving the point further. He pulled the towel closer in on himself anyways while Steve set him down on the mat delicately.
Starting at the top of his head, Steve slowly attempted to dry down Cesare without somehow hurting him again. He skipped over the gnarly cuts on Cesare’s back and lower ribs, carefully trying to dab the skin dry around the old open wounds. Cesare still winced when Steve got near the injuries, but at least he didn’t yell or scream in Steve’s ears about it. Steve already felt ridiculously bad about what happened earlier.
Steve finished drying off Cesare the best he could with what was available before reaching to grab the gauze off of the bathroom counter.
“You… know the drill…” Steve pulled the end of the gauze off as Cesare lifted his arms, barely able to keep them in the air. Steve wrapped it around Cesare’s torso, both hands alternating to keep the wrap smooth.
He tied the final pieces of the gauze into a butterfly knot and huffed.
“Too tight or no?”
Cesare just shook his head, taking a deep breath in to prove it wasn’t crushing him, but the exhale caught in his throat. Cesare doubled over hacking, pounding on his upper chest with one fist while the other sloppily covered his mouth.
Steve hastily crawled over to him and rubbed his bony back, trying to provide some kind of comfort. However, his eyes went wide when he heard Cesare’s coughing evolved into violent, full-body gags.
Cesare’s scrawny form heaved until he finally spat out a mouthful of weird, black bile.
Barely able to process what had just happened, Steve lunged forward to catch Cesare’s near-limp shaking body from falling into the puddle of… goop.
Steve cringed and sat back on the tile, propping himself up with one arm while wrapping the other around Cesare, who was pulled into Steve’s lap.
Deep, shaking breaths echoed throughout the bathroom, keeping all of Steve’s attention focused directly on Cesare.
“…Are you still sure it’s not too tight?” Steve asked, calling into question the debacle of Cesare’s body betraying him.
“YES, oh my god, Steve. That… that was a fluke that was unrelated to what just happened it was fully separate. It just does that. Every once in a while.” Cesare’s raspy voice exaggerated how worn out he was, how much the ordeal took out of him.
Steve furrowed his brows, taking a deep breath in as he gently moved Cesare back onto the bath mat next to him. He was still shaking, drawing his knees up to his chest again.
“I’m’onna go get you sum’more sleep clothes, try not to… to throw up again, or something. If that… was even throw up.”
Cesare just nodded and placed his head on his knees, adrenaline wearing off and exhaustion settling in again.
Mere minutes later, Steve shuffled back to the bathroom, wearing clean boxers and some fresh ‘pajamas’ for Cesare.
Cesare didn’t even look up at him.
“Cece, Arms up. Please” Steve spoke with exasperation lacing his voice, ready to get Cesare back to bed.
He threaded Cesare’s toothpick-thin arms through the holes of an old shirt that had once belonged to Steve, before Cesare inevitably stole it for his sleep shirt collection.
Steve sighed, realizing that he was just going to have to dress Cesare’s rag-doll form without assistance from Cesare himself.
Cesare’s head hung low with fatigue as Steve dressed him for bed, occasionally trying to lift a leg off the floor to make it easier.
It took ten minutes, but Steve finally finished and pulled Cesare’s limp, half-asleep body into his arms.
“Steve? Y’done?” Cesare questioned, before Steve placed him down onto the bed, comforter already pushed to the side so he could pull it over himself.
Steve made his way over to the other side of the bed, hopping up with a grunt. He crawled to Cesare’s side and just put the comforter over Cesare himself, knowing he’d not do it on his own.
“How’s your head doin’?” Steve leaned down and pressed a kiss to Cesare’s temple, “From the… faucet… hit…”
The addition onto the question came out sheepishly but Cesare just looked up with fever-glazed eyes, too out of it to crack a joke.
“S’ok. Fuzzy b’not painf’l.” Cesare’s words grew more slurred the longer his head rested on the pillow, small hints of an old Italian accent making itself known.
“…Sinuses any better?”
Cesare nodded the best he could, taking a small breath through his nose to prove it.
It still sounded somewhat congested, but at least he could be free from a fully blocked nose.
Steve reached an arm over Cesare, grabbing the tissue box off the bedside table, plucking one out of the box and instinctually balling it up in his hand.
He pressed the tissue up against Cesare’s red, irritated nose, where bluish hue to his skin was turning purple.
“Blow.”
Cesare’s hands reached up to hold the tissue before he blew his nose hard into the paper.
Steve winced at the sound, wiping at Cesare’s nose before pulling the tissue back.
“How’s this? ‘S’it better?”
Steve took Cesare’s nodding as the only response he was gonna get.
He kissed Cesare’s forehead again, the fever from before still present but rather lower than before. Cesare wasn’t even warm warm, like a normal person, but it was still over his regular corpse temperature enough to cause worry.
“Alright Cece, if y’need anything j’st… tap me or someth’n’.” Steve’s brows pinched and a worried smile bloomed on his face as he rubbed his thumb on Cesare’s cheekbone.
He planted one last kiss to Cesare’s forehead before laying back down and picking his phone up again.
Looking back over at Cesare to share an “I love you”, Steve realized that he’d passed out already.
Steve just sighed with relief and opened up iFunny again, mentally preparing himself for a quiet afternoon.