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It wasn’t often that Buck got sick. In fact, the last time he could remember getting sick to the point he had to call off of work and spend the day in bed, he was in middle school.
Although he technically didn’t have to call off of work or school back then because he had gotten sick on the first day of his summer break.
It was the worst start of a summer break ever.
But that was over twenty years ago.
And sure, since then he had gotten the occasional stuffy nose or upset stomach or headache (and a dozen hangovers), but sick sick? It had been a long time since he had felt like that.
The first signs of whatever illness this was started when he had woken up that morning. There was a… weirdness throughout his head. And even though he had gone to bed early last night and slept in this morning, he still felt tired. Buck sat up and as he did so, his head swam, a lightheadedness taking over, almost making him drop back down on the mattress.
Next was the weird painful feeling hovering over the top of his head - a headache.
Then as he stood up from the bed and walked across the upper loft to reach the bathroom, needing to rest on the door jam to take a breath, Buck noticed that underneath the lightheadedness, there was a soreness than was in just about every muscle of his body.
Buck splashed some water on his face, clearing up some of the brain fog that was going on, and looked at himself in the mirror.
Was this what people meant when they said ‘death warmed over’? He looked wrecked. He felt it too.
He brushed his teeth and then left the bathroom, blinking his eyes as they took a lot longer than usual to adjust to the morning sunlight streaming in through the large windows.
Was it always this bright in the morning?
Slowly, so he didn’t get a concussion and broken leg on top of whatever it was that his body was going through, Buck made his way down the steps, walking straight up to and resting against his kitchen island as another wave of dizziness overtook him.
After getting a drink of water from the sink, Buck stumbled over to his couch. His head spinning, shins knocking into the table and couch arm as he walked across the room.
Thank God that he had been able to get down the stairs without tripping and cracking his head open earlier.
Once over there, Buck dropped his body onto the couch, just laying there with his head on the arm rest as he willed it to stop spinning. After a couple moments, it calmed down enough so that he could think properly.
He should probably call someone. If not to get help, then he should at least call Bobby and tell him he most likely wouldn’t be able to make it in tomorrow.
But that left the question of who to call.
Maddie and Chimney were out of town, having taken Jee to see something down in San Diego. So were Eddie and Chris, gone to Texas for the weekend for some cousin’s wedding. That left…
Well, Buck was going to have to call Bobby eventually.
Buck put his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, only to realize that his phone wasn’t in there. Damn it.
Where was it?
He turned his head to the left, seeing the familiar green of the phone case on the kitchen counter next to where he had left the water glass.
At least it wasn’t upstairs.
Buck took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to walk across his loft again to go and pick it up.
Slowly rising, he stood up, and felt a small wave of relief when the lightheadedness didn’t come back. He walked over to the kitchen, leaning against the counter top when he made it within proximity of his phone to reach out and grab it.
He pondered for half a second if he should call Bobby where he stood or go back to the couch. Considering how tired he was becoming just standing still, he went back over to the couch, collapsing tiredly against it, breathing heavily to catch his breath.
Once he did so, and it took way too long to do so, he realized, he unlocked his phone, pulled up Bobby’s contact page, and started calling the man.
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Bobby hadn’t expected Buck to call him that morning. He hadn’t expected it, but that didn’t mean he didn’t welcome it.
“Hey Buck, what’s up?” he greeted as he answered the phone call.
“Bobby-” he heard Buck say. And even from that word spoken word, Bobby could tell that Buck wasn’t exactly all that healthy.
“You feeling okay, Buck?” Bobby asked when Buck trailed off into silence after saying his name.
He heard Buck groan as he said. “ No… could you come by and…”
“You need someone to come take care of you?” Bobby asked, a small smile on his face. It wasn’t that he was happy that Buck seemed to be sick, God no. But that he was the one Buck asked.
“ If… If you don’t mind ?” Buck asked. “It’s just, everyone else is gone or busy or-”
“Don’t worry about it, Buck,” Bobby said. “I’ll be by in about half an hour. Can you hold on until then?”
“Yeah,” Buck said. “ I think so.”
🔶 🔶 🔶 🔶 🔶
It had only taken Bobby about half an hour to get to Buck’s loft, and in that time, Buck hadn’t moved from the couch. But in that half hour, Buck was suddenly feeling so much worse.
He had started to feel… warmer, yet colder at the same time. That was what a fever was supposed to feel like, right?
His head also started to feel worse, a lot worse.
Forget walking across the loft to answer the door for Bobby, Buck didn’t think he’d even be able to sit up.
He heard Bobby knock on the door. But he knew that he would probably end up face planting into the ground if he tried to walk to the door right now. Luckily for him, his phone was still right next to his hand, not buried in the cushions somewhere that he’d need to stand up to be able to find.
He unlocked it, finding himself lucky that the phone was still on Bobby’s contact page, and called him again.
“Buck?” Bobby picked up almost before the first ring rang. “I’m outside your door.”
“I heard you knock,” Buck said. “Don’t think I can get up though. Do you still have your key?”
“Yeah,” Bobby said. “Just give me a sec.”
A moment later, the door to his loft was opened and Bobby walked inside. He looked around for a second and noticed Buck lying on the couch.
“Hey Bobby,” Buck lifted a hand and waved it at the older man.
“Buck,” Bobby said as he walked over to him quickly, but not fast enough to be running, not like it mattered much, it was barely fifteen feet. Bobby then sat down on the coffee table and looked Buck over. “How are you feeling?”
“Bad,” Buck said, opting for honesty after Bobby came all the way over here on his day off. “Feel lightheaded whenever I sit or stand up. Also feel like a fevers started.”
Bobby ran a hand over Buck’s forehead. “Yeah, you’re definitely warm,” he said. “Have you had anything to drink recently?”
“Had some water earlier,” Buck said.
“Did it stay down?” Bobby asked. Buck gave a small nod, which he instantly regretted.
“Have you had anything to eat yet today?” Bobby asked then.
“No,” Buck said, just now realizing he hadn't eaten anything.
“If I make something, do you think you’ll be able to eat it?” Bobby asked.
“Yeah,” Buck said. If there was one thing he hadn’t felt today, that would be nausea or the need to throw up.
“How’s some toast and fruit sound?”
“Sounds good,” Buck said, halfway back to passing out.
Five minutes later, Bobby gently shook his shoulder, waking Buck up from the light slumber he had fallen into in the time it took Bobby to toast some bread slices and cut up some strawberries.
Buck groaned as he sat up, his head spinning for a moment before he looked down at the plate Bobby had set by his leg.
“So other than the lightheadedness and the fever, what else are you feeling?” Bobby asked.
Buck groaned slightly. “Tired, headache, everything’s sore, just want to fall asleep and sleep for a week.”
“Well eat that,” Bobby poked at the plate. “And then we’ll get some tylenol in you. See if you feel better after a couple hours and a nap.”
Buck supposed that didn’t sound too bad.
Buck was able to eat all of the toast and strawberries, and after he took the tylenol Bobby pressed into his hand, Bobby took a seat next to him on the couch and turned on the TV, finding some documentary he figured Buck would like to watch.
Buck had seen this particular one about the rainforest a couple of times, it was one of his favorites.
As the documentary started, Buck felt himself listing to the left, his head falling against Bobby’s shoulder. Slowly after that, Buck moved closer to Bobby, pressing up against the man’s side. Instead of moving or pushing Buck away, Bobby pulled him closer.
“I’ve got you,” Bobby said as Buck nestled into his side and Bobby wrapped his arms around him. “I’ve got you.”
Another thing about Buck being sick that he had forgotten about since he hadn’t been sick since he was a kid - when he was sick, Buck became sort of touch craved, latching onto people and not letting go.
When he was a kid that person was usually Maddie. But she wasn’t here right now. Bobby was however.
Buck didn’t know when he had plastered himself against Bobby’s side. But at some point, he did. (When he got better he just knew he was going to be so embarrassed by this.)
The documentary came to an end, and without even asking, Bobby pressed play to start the next one in the series. Mid way through the second Buck began nodding off, about to fall asleep. Buck slightly shook his head and blinked his eyes, not exactly wanting to do that right now.
“You can go to sleep,” Bobby said when he noticed what Buck was doing.
Buck hummed, already halfway there.
And then he felt Bobby place what could only be a kiss onto the top of his head.
That was a nice nap.