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The mission was routine, all things considered. Just a check up on a location that used to house a Flag Smashers base. There was no combat involved, but they did take a tumble when they entered. It wasn't bad, just the result of some old blueprints that never accounted for the damage caused by the Flag Smashers.
Still, the mission leaves Buck exhausted. He was tired when he woke up that morning, he felt like he hadn't slept at all, despite the fact that he probably had the best night of sleep he's had in years.
Alone, the two things weren't noteworthy, but together? Buck knew he was sick…he still showed up to work. And maybe that was his fault…maybe this whole thing could have been avoided if he'd just called Sam and asked for a day off. Maybe he wouldn't be sitting here on a turbulent military aircraft with nausea brewing in his gut.
But the thought of Sam taking that fall alone…who knows how bad it would have been if Bucky hadn't been there to take the brunt of it.
"Hey, Buck…you alright?" Sam asks, clapping Bucky on the shoulder. The words and touch yank him out of his thoughts. The sudden sounds and movement send his stomach reeling, he nods nonetheless.
"You're just not looking so hot…did you get hurt in the fall?" Sam asks, squinting at Bucky. Bucky shrugs, "not bad…" he mumbles. He'd definitely have a few nasty bruises tomorrow, but nothing was broken.
"Still mad at me then?" Sam asks with a sigh. "Yes." Bucky says, because it's an out and he is still kinda mad. They'd fought earlier…Bucky can't even remember what it was about. They fight too often for his feverish brain to keep track of.
"Fine, you don't have to talk to me." Sam settles on his side of the plane. Bucky tries not to focus on the storm brewing in his stomach.
Sam is worried…Bucky can see the signs of concern etched onto his face. He must be looking worse than earlier now.
When they land Sam drives Bucky home and Bucky tries to stop shaking, tries to breathe through the nausea. Sam doesn't seem to notice all the little details, but Bucky can tell that he knows that something is wrong. e
Sam insists on coming inside when they reach the apartment. Bucky quickly unlocks it and tries not to let Sam in.
"Dude, I get you're mad, but I just want to talk about something." Sam pushes past him. Bucky swallows thickly. He doesn't know that he has a few minutes to "talk about something" his body wants to be violently ill until the sun comes up the next day.
Sam talks for half an hour and Bucky doesn't hear any of it. He gives a few "okay"s and "yeah"s as well as "no"s, enough to prove he's not completely spiraling. All the while he stares at the counter in his apartment, doing all he can to not to throw up all over it.
Then, finally, Sam leaves. Bucky waits a few seconds after the door closes, he counts to five…then bolts to the bathroom.
He's gagging before he can get to his knees and flip the toilet seat up, but miraculously he doesn't make a mess. He vomits harshly, his vibranium arm resting on the toilet seat and supporting his head, while the flesh one snakes around his upset stomach.
He's not done, but he tenses when he hears the apartment door open. "Hey, Buck! Just forgot my keys…where'd you go?" Sam yells through the apartment.
Bucky panics, he does not want to be coddled or pitied, which he knows is what would happen if Sam finds him like this. He flushes the toilet and tries to close the door before Sam reaches it, but he can barley pull himself off the floor before Sam's standing in the doorway.
"Woah, you look like crap…" Sam says, concern in his voice. Bucky shakes his head even as his face pales again. He doesn't like when Sam sees him so weak.
"Are you bleeding somewhere?" Sam asks, grabbing Bucky's arm to steady him. Bucky shakes his head and tries to push him away.
"Okay, just sit down…you look like you're gonna faint and you're way too big for that…" Sam tries to push him to sit, but Bucky is stronger.
"Can you say something?" Sam asks, he looks pretty worried now. "I…hghh" his breath hitches, he swallows down the vomit.
"You gonna sneeze?" Sam asks, now confused. "Mmmmnghh." Bucky groans, his legs wobbling.
"Bucky! Please! You have to give me something here!" Sam begs as Bucky steps backward and wilts to the ground again.
Sam goes down with him just as Bucky ducks his head in the toilet and retches. "Oh…" Sam realizes as Bucky vomits.
"Alright, get it up." He pats Bucky on the back. Bucky tenses, glaring at Sam between heaves.
"I'm not leaving until you can tell me why you're puking." Sam huffs and Bucky vomits again.
After a solid five minutes of vomiting Bucky gasps for air. "You're alright, just breathe." Sam says, noticing tear tracks.
Bucky blinks and more tears fall. "Don't cry, Buck…surely you've had worse than this…" Sam says, frowning.
Bucky just whimpers, hiding his face in his arms. "Can you talk to me, yet? Think you're done for now? Want to lay down?" Sam asks.
Bucky doesn't know what question to answer first so he answers none of them. "Where are we, Buck?" Sam asks, touching him gently on his flesh arm.
"New York…" Bucky whispers, not bothering to lift his head.
"What's your name?" Sam asks, rubbing his thumb across Bucky's hand.
"James Buchanan Barnes…" he mumbles, still shaking.
"And what's my name?" Sam asks, moving his hand closer to Bucky's forehead…it feels pretty warm.
Bucky lifts his head to see the person in front of him, something he sees makes his eyes water again…or maybe it's something he doesn't see.
He buries his head into his arms again. "Sam Wilson," He huffs. "Yeah, that's good, Buck…do you know the year?"
"2024."
"That's right, you're okay. You're safe, you're with me, alright?" Sam says, moving closer to him.
"Sorry…Sam." Bucky says slowly after a minute. "For what?"
"Just not feeling very good..." Bucky admits, seeming to not hear Sam's inquiry.
"I can tell…did this start just now or..?" Sam asks, placing a hand on Bucky's back.
"Been feeling bad all day…probably a bug." Bucky says slowly, as if speaking faster would hurt too much.
"Bucky…you could've told me that. At any point today…you don't have to push through anymore. You're allowed to rest." Sam says, frowning.
"Don't know how to…never did." Bucky lifts his head, his cheeks are flushed.
"Stevie always needed me more than my bed." Bucky sighs, scrubbing his hand across his face.
"No one else needs you right now. You have to take care of yourself…" Sam says, he sounds tired…probably tired of Bucky's constant selflessness.
"I'm sorry." Bucky says again.
"I just wish you felt comfortable being sick in front of me…I see now that you've been holding it in…" Sam says with a sympathetic frown.
"Just wanted to be home really…" Bucky avoids eye contact, instead opting to stare at the bathroom tile.
"You were home…for thirty minutes, but I was here and you kept holding it back…that's not very good for you." Sam sighs.
"Sorry…"
"Just, let me help, now?" Sam asks hopefully.
"…mmm, I don't want you to…but you really want to." Bucky says out loud as if he's weighing his options.
"I can't bear the thought of you hear like this all alone." He reiterates, hoping to win Buck over by guilting him into thinking Sam will suffer if he doesn't take care of Bucky.
"Fine, but…I tell you when to stop." Buck says slowly, finally looking up at Sam.
"Of course, Buck."