Stucky oneshots ♾

Bye Steve

Preserum

Steve coughed violently, his whole body shuddering. Bucky, sitting next to him, squeezed his hand, waiting for it to be over. It was all he could do.

When Steve calmed down, Bucky opened his eyes- he hadn't noticed that he'd shut them tightly- and rubbed Steve's back with his hand.

'You're ok, Stevie. You'll be ok.'

Steve looked him in the eyes and chuckled weakly. 'I dunno, Buck. How many people have you seen come back from a illness like this? 'Specially people like me.'

'People like you? As in self righteous little punks? C'mon, Steve. You'll be fine.'

Steve nodded, not quite meeting Bucky's eyes. He looked past him to the small bathroom.

'Can you help me up? I need to.... go.'

Bucky stood up. ' 'course, Steve.'

He slowly lifted Steve out of the bed, stabilising him while he put his feet down. Halfway to the bathroom, he was hit with another round of coughing.

His legs crumpled under him as he fetched from the force of the coughing. Bucky squatted down a bit, putting Steve's arm around him shoulders.

'You're ok. Come on, you're alright.'

He didn't feel the tears running down his cheeks until Steve brushed them away with his fingers. He tensed up, not wanting to appear weak in front of Steve. The smaller boy noticed and lulled his hand away.

Bucky shook his head. 'You're a punk, Steve. You make me worried.'

'Jerk.'

He helped Steve into the bathroom, closing the door and waiting outside till he was done. He lay him back down on the bed a few minutes later, tears threatening to spill again.

When Steve fell asleep, he noticed how much more peaceful he looked. He didn't look as sick, didn't look like he was going to vomit his guts out. He just looked like Steve.

He went into town, using the last of his money he didn't need for medication or bills to buy fruit.

An apple a day keeps the doctor away.

Steve needed a doctor. But doctors needed money. Buying fruit was one thing, but he could never pay for a whole ass doctor. Hopefully the apples kept death away.

When he got back to their apartment, Steve was still asleep. He had to shake him awake. It took him a while to wake up, and those few minutes scared Bucky.

'Steve? Gotcha something.' He pulled the fruit from his bag, showing it to the small boy. His eyes widened.

'Thanks, Buck. This looks great.' Bucky leaned down and kissed Steve's forehead softly, noting how feverish he felt. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky's neck, not wanting to let go. He didn't dare bring their lips together in a kiss, for fear of making Bucky sick.

He pulled back to cough, when he suddenly retched, and Bucky ran of to find a bucket, making it back just in time.

The stench of bile burned his nostrils, but he ignored it. He brought Steve some water, and made him eat one of the fruits. Taking the bucket out, he emptied and cleaned it, putting it next to the bed again.

'Bucky? I'm gonna sleep now.' Steve whispered. Bucky felt shoulders sag, but he tried to appear strong for Steve, like he always had to.

'You do that, punk. Get some rest. When you wake up, you'll be all better again. It won't hurt, promise. Nothing can hurt my Stevie.'

The boy closed his eyes, his breathing slowing. Bucky pressed his forehead to Steve's, kissing his nose. Tears ran down his face as he spoke his farewell.

'Bye, Stevie.'

This was so short and angsty I wasn't going to make it end like this but it felt right so yeah I'm sorry.