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Steve awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of Bucky throwing up, coming from the bathroom attached to their shared bedroom. Bucky had only just started eating solid food again after Hydra had tube fed him for so many years. He and Steve had both acknowledged that his body would take time to adjust, but Bucky had wanted to do it anyway.
Steve crept out of bed and through the half-open door to the bathroom. As he expected, Bucky was bent over the toilet. Steve came up behind him and held his hair back for several minutes until he was finished. He hadn’t gotten any of it in his hair or on the floor, but if he had, Steve would have cleaned it without hesitation. Steve flushed the toilet for Bucky and washed his hands.
After Bucky had rescued Steve from the river, Sam and Nat had managed to track him down. From then, Steve hadn’t wanted to let Bucky out of his sight. Once they’d determined that Bucky didn’t need a hospital, Steve had taken Bucky to his apartment and become his caregiver. Bucky had nightmares, so he preferred to sleep in Steve’s bed with him, and Steve always obliged.
In another time, when Steve’s mother had died, Bucky stayed close by, caring for Steve whenever he became sick, which had been fairly often. Now the two of them had switched roles. Steve was thankful that he was able to help Bucky in such a way. Bucky deserved at least that much after all he’d been through.
Bucky slowly sank to the bathroom floor, eyes half closed, seemingly too weak to make his way back to bed. Steve moved his face close to Bucky’s.
“Want me to carry you?” Steve whispered.
Bucky nodded almost imperceptibly. Steve gently gathered Bucky into his arms and transported him back to his side of the bed. Bucky was heavy, but Steve was a supersoldier, glad that his abilities aided him in caring for his friend.
Bucky felt feverish, so Steve did not replace the covers back on top of him. He got close to Bucky’s face again.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” Steve told him. “I’m going to get you something to help you feel better.”
Bucky mumbled in response.
Steve made his way to the apartment kitchen and located the ingredients to the ginger tonic his mother had always made for him when he’d had stomach problems. Once Steve had become aware that Bucky might have these issues, he’d purchased all the items necessary for the tonic.
Steve brought the newly-mixed concoction back into the bedroom. He set it on the bedside table, prompting Bucky to open his eyes back up.
“Can you drink this, or do you need me to help you?”
Without saying anything, Bucky raised his head a little, then reached with his metal arm and gripped the glass without any trouble. Steve supposed it had been made that way, to do whatever Bucky needed even when the rest of his body was in bad shape. Even though it helped him in that instance, Steve still didn’t know what to think of the arm.
Bucky took a sip and made a face.
“I know it tastes kinda weird, but it will help your stomach,” Steve assured him. “Just try to drink as much of it as you can right now, okay?”
Bucky nodded slightly and took a bigger swallow of the liquid, then another.
“That’s good,” Steve encouraged him.
After a short pause, Bucky took one more drink before he put the glass back down on the nightstand and laid back down on the pillow.
“Do you need anything else right now?” Steve asked.
“Nah,” Bucky murmured.
“Think you can sleep?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Want the covers on?”
“Mm-hmm.” Steve noticed that Bucky was no longer feverish or sweating.
Steve put the covers on top of Bucky, then slid into bed beside him.
Steve would always wish that he’d been able to stop Bucky falling from the train, or gotten him back from Hydra sooner, so much sooner. It pained him so much to know that the person he loved most had suffered so much. Steve wished it had been him instead of Bucky. Better yet, he wished that things like Hydra, Nazis, and war had never existed, never given either of them a reason to put their lives in danger.
Seeing Bucky brainwashed, Steve wondered if his friend would ever remember who Steve was, or even who he was. But when Steve said those words, “I’m with you til the end of the line,” he’d seen Bucky’s expression, the recognition on his face. He’d watched in real time as the man before him began to transform from the Winter Soldier back into James Buchanan Barnes.
When Steve woke beside the river, he didn’t see Bucky anywhere. He looked around but couldn’t find him. Once Nat called him to say that she and Sam had located Bucky, he was relieved but didn’t want to give himself false hope of Bucky fully coming back to himself. Bucky had immediately looked at Steve and said his name out loud, though, and Steve had to restrain himself from hugging Bucky right then and there, not wanting to alarm him.
And now, several days later, Bucky was sleeping next to him, safe and sound. He had a lot of recovery ahead, both physical and mental, but Steve would see him through all of it. Steve would do the same that his mother and later Bucky had always done for him. Steve hadn’t liked the idea of someone always needing to be around to take care of him, but now that he was on the other side of that relationship, he knew how important it was to have that support.
After a little while, Steve could tell that Bucky had fallen asleep, his breath evening out and the tension in his body releasing. Steve was then able to fall back asleep, too. Bucky didn’t get sick again that night, making Steve pleased that the ginger tonic had seemed to work.