Little Secrets, Little Bucky

Sick Day

Y/n woke up in the middle of the night to the feeling of someone staring at her. She sat upright, only relaxing when she recognized the silhouette in her doorway. "Bucky?" She glanced at her alarm clock, "It's 4:00 am, what are you doing awake?" He didn't reply but she thought she heard a low whine come from his direction. "Jarvis, lights at 15 percent," she said, although her brain was still fogged with sleep.

When the lights came on she could see that Bucky was hunched over, holding his stomach. He was looking at her with anxiety etched all over his features, he was clearly little based on his lack of ability to communicate and she threw the covers back, intending to go get a closer look at him. "Are you alright?" She assumed he'd had a nightmare and woken up little, not an uncommon occurrence in the last few weeks. But before Bucky could respond he gagged, hard. "Oh, sweetheart," she said sympathetically, "go into the bathroom if you're going to throw up."

He nodded miserably and went where he was directed, not wanting to anger his mama. Y/n followed him in, knowing he'd probably need her soon. Bucky wasn't used to getting sick, the serum made sure of that, so when something did hit him it usually hit hard. The poor baby was probably miserable.

She walked in to see Bucky clutching onto the toilet bowl for dear life, clearly trying with everything in him not to throw up. She crouched down beside him, he gagged again, and this time she rubbed his back, "Get it all out," she said, "you'll feel better." He started throwing up against his will and she kept speaking softly to him, trying to soothe the tears that were running down his face. She heard a faint hissing sound between his violent retches and looked down to see that the violent cramping of his stomach had made his bladder release. She paid no mind to the steadily growing puddle on the floor or the vomit that had somehow ended up on his shirt, instead opting to keep comforting her distraught baby. He finally finished throwing up and when he saw what he had done Bucky panicked, cowering in the corner of the bathroom and choking out tiny, broken, apologies. "Sorry, Mama," he cried, "didn't mean to, m'sorry, I'll clean it up. No hurt, please no hurt, I'll clean it, promise."

Y/n's heart just about shattered at how terrified he was. Did he really think she was angry over something he couldn't even control? This scared little boy, her baby, was curled up in a corner covered in his own vomit and urine and yet his main concern was cleaning up the puddle he'd left on the floor so that she wouldn't hurt him. "I would never hurt you," she said, doing her absolute best to disguise the pain in her voice, "you don't need to be sorry, baby. Mama's not mad."

"Made a mess," he said in a quiet, shaky voice, "M a bad boy."

Her heart constricted hearing those same words from the night he wet the bed, the very first night he called her 'mama'. "Making a mess does not make you a bad boy," she said, coming closer to the still shaking little boy. "Messes can be cleaned, you're still my very good boy." He looked so small and so scared, he clearly needed his mama to take over for a while. "I'm going to get you in the shower and clean up the floor, ok? Mama's gonna take care of you."

Bucky let her carefully undress him and help him into the shower, just standing under the water while she cleaned up the puddle on the floor and threw his dirty clothes in the hamper. She got him all cleaned up and into a pull-up and new pajamas, shorts and a t-shirt in case he had a fever like she thought, and then sat him on the counter. She felt his forehead and gasped at how warm he was. She got out the thermometer just to confirm her suspicions and found she was correct, he had a fever.

Throughout the whole ordeal Bucky was silent, not letting a single sound escape. She was getting worried as she could see how upset he was, but he wasn't letting himself express any of the hurt he was feeling. "Bucks? Can I pick you up and take you to the bed with me?" He nodded his head and as soon as she had him in her arms she could feel him shaking as he held back tears. "It's ok, baby," she said, rubbing his back, "I know you're upset, Mama's right here. You can cry all you want." She felt tears soaking into her shirt as he silently cried into her shoulder and just stood there for a while, letting him release his emotions.