Marvel Oneshots

1. "Florence Nightingale" - 40s Bucky

Warning: Slight violence, descriptions of illness, and cursing.

2222 words

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"Oh would you like to swing on a star, carry moonbeams home in a jar, and be better off than you are, or would you rather be a mule." I sung along with the radio that played softly in the background as I rolled the dough in front of me. "His back is brawny but his brain is weak, he's just plain stupid with a stubborn-" A frantic-sounding knock in the door stopped the words in my throat. Dusting my hands off on my apron, I hurried over to the door and pulled it open to reveal my favorite steel blue eyes.

"Hey doll. Mind if we come in?" His adorable face warmed with a smile, and my attention switched to the small bundle of a person in his arms. Bucky's best friend, Steven, had one arm slung over the brunette's shoulder, leaning on him heaving, as blood poured from his nose and a bruise formed over his eye.

"Oh my lord, yes." I stepped to the side, ushering the pair in. "Set him down over there." I pointed at the table sitting in my kitchen as I hurried to grab some gauze from my nurse's bag and some cold meat in the fridge.

"I'm sorry to burst in on you like this. I normally wouldn't have, but I just-"

"I know, Bucky. It's okay that you're worried about your friend." I smiled at him as he took the meat from me, offering it to Steve. "So, what was the cause of the fight this time, Steven?"

"Steven? Oh, you're in trouble now punk."

With one eye covered Steve glared at Bucky, then turned to me.

"This brute wouldn't leave a girl alone."

"Well, then on behalf of this woman, thank you." I said. "Now, head between your knees."

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"Y/N!" I heard from outside as I was fixing a button on my dress. Thunderous steps sounded outside my apartment as I raced over to the door and stepped outside.

"Bucky, what is it? What's wrong, why do you look scared?" I hurried over to the man I loved, placing my hands on his arms in an effort to calm him down. 

"It's Steve. I tired to wake him up this morning and he wouldn't budge. He's burning up doll, I didn't know what to do and I figured you would." 

"Where is he?" We raced over to Steve's apartment a few blocks away, and Bucky showed me where he was. Pulling some supplies out of my bag, I stepped closer and dropped down by the side of the bed. "Steve? Steve?" I shook him gently, but he remained unresponsive. "Stevie?" I took a glass of water by his bedside and poured a little behind his ear. He stirred, but still didn't wake up. I noticed a little bit of red on his skin underneath his collar. "Okay Steve, I'm going to take off your shirt so I can take a look at you, okay?" When I swiftly unbuttoned his shirt, I saw an angry red rash over most his body. "Oh, no."

"Oh no? What does that mean?" Bucky took a step closer, but I waved him away.

"Don't come closer. Lock the door, make sure no one comes in or out." I quickly checked over Steve, noticing a high fever, swollen neck, and swollen tongue. 

"Sweatheart, you're scaring me. What's wrong with Steve?"

"He has scarlet fever."

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"I told you you shouldn't have given me your coat." I chided the man lying in bed the next room over as I made him some soup. "I knew you would get a cold."