the escapees || bucky barnes

XXV: aftermath

Walking through the entrance of the compound, my flats squeaked from the rain that had started to come down just as we'd gotten back. I'd thrown up twice on the ride back, and I'd realized that yeah, I was sick. Probably just the flu or a stomach bug of some sort. Nothing major, I just had to stay in bed for a while, have some fluids.

Not have to deal with the shit this place put me up to.

As soon as I got to the common room, I just grabbed a big tote bag and went to the pantry. I was grabbing items all willy-nilly, not really paying attention as long as I grabbed ginger ale for my stomach. Bucky came up behind me, putting a gentle hand on my shoulder and putting the tin of cookies back in the pantry.

"Slow down, doll," he said, taking a look inside the bag. "I don't think that you really need all of this."

I let him partially empty out my bag, the cigarettes that I'd accidentally swept into the bag being placed back in the pantry along with the Doritos and Rice Krispies. I hadn't realized I'd put half the stuff I had in the bag until he started pulling it out. Before long, all my bag consisted of was some crackers, a few bottles of water, two cans of ginger ale, and some watermelon from the fridge.

I started the walk to my room, Bucky helping me along when my ankle got weak. I heard Sam shout "I hope you get better, Char!" to me on my way out, which made me smile in the slightest. He was stepping back and letting Bucky help me. It was nice.

But why did Bucky helping me give me the nice kind of butterflies?

I walked through the door of my room, setting the bag down on my kitchen counter before going to grab an extra blanket and a hairband. Bucky closed the door behind him, following me and picking up a pillow on the way as well. I moved towards the bathroom, shedding my flats and coat.

The tile was cool against the thin tights I had on my legs, the feeling both calming and painful in the slightest. I slumped down next to the toilet and lifted the seat, leaning against the sink that was only a foot away or so. Bucky set the numerous items he'd brought in next to me, including a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He was being so kind.

I smiled up as he left the bathroom to let me get changed, but I knew he had sat down right outside the door because of the clunking sound his arm had made against it. Not long after I told him he could open the door did my stomach pitch again, making me hunch over the toilet. I hated this feeling. I didn't want to describe it as helplessness, but in complete honesty, that was what it was. I couldn't do anything but puke and hope it wasn't internal-bleeding kind of bad.

Bucky was (thankfully) just holding up my hair, making sure no strands got into my face while I was vomiting my guts out. When it finally ceased for long enough for me to slump back against the sink again, he handed me a tissue to wipe my face with.

"You really don't have to do this, Sarge," I said, tossing the tissue in the trash.

"I want to," he replied, sitting across from me. "I want to help."

"And if you get sick?"

"You can repay me by helping me out," Bucky fluffed his hair. "Can't have these luscious locks getting in the sick, now can we?"

I snorted lightly, which made Bucky grin. My fingernails tapped against the side of the toilet while I considered my next words.

"When's your trial?" I asked.

His face fell a little. "About a month or so. I'm not too exited, but Stark has good lawyers. I have a bit of faith in it."

I nodded. Mine had been pushed back to accommodate me getting better from the kidnapping and to include me leaving my house arrest in the testimony. It didn't make me look good, I had to admit. But I had to do it. I would've gone crazy if I hadn't.

A few more rounds of me getting sick came and went, the last one being quite weak on the part of my stomach. I was able to get down some ice chips and water, and eventually I decided to get up and move to the couch. My blanket trailed after me like a cape, flowing around me once I sat down. Bucky came over with a bowl of crackers, and I slowly felt well enough to nibble on a few without throwing up.

For some odd reason, my choice for a movie was Princess Protection Program. Now, don't get me wrong. I loved Disney Channel when I was younger. It was my entire life until the age of eleven. But it wasn't exactly the kind of thing I was into now. I suppose this was just a comfort movie. Also, I had to culture Bucky. He had no idea how much better Disney had gotten.

Throughout the movie, I kept edging closer and closer to Bucky until he finally just opened his arms and let me snuggle into him, his warmth comforting. After a while, though, I felt a bit bad about being so close to him. He was going to get sick because of me. He had said he didn't care, but I still cared a little too much about it.

"You sure you're okay with me being this close?" I asked for the millionth time.

"Doll, I wouldn't care if you kissed me while you were sick."

His eyes widened when he realized what he had said, and his cheeks went bright red.

"I didn't mean it in that way," Bucky tried to cover it up quickly. "I just meant that it doesn't matter if you're sick or anything. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or-"

I cut him off by lightly pecking him on the cheek and snuggling into his chest. "You're definitely going to get sick now."

"I'm alright with that."