Steve Rogers And Bucky Barnes Images

Covid

Steve can tell something isn't right. You're out of breath quicker than usual and coughing like crazy. You try and distance yourself from the team, but Natasha - ever family deprived - can't seem to get the hint that something is clearly wrong.

Your skin has gone slightly pale, and even from afar, he can tell you're much more warmer. Sweat is constantly beading down your forehead, and everytime he tries to confront you, you excuse it with allergies or something in the air.

But he knows it's something more serious. The outbreak has hit the world hard, and knowing you, you were most likely suffering from a case with more serious symptoms. You're dehydrated, and as of late, aren't eating well enough as you should be.

Steve walks into the gym to see you're occupied with the punching bag in the corner, face dripping with sweat and bags underneath your eyes. There's something weighing you down, movements more sluggish than normal and water bottle three quarters the way empty. But something still compells him to move towards you.

"Y/N," he calls softly, and you turn your head with gentle smile sent his way. "Everything okay?" You nod once and turn back to the punching bag. "Honey, come here." Stepping closer, he finds himself rushing to you as you stumble, falling against his arm as you sway. "Hey, hey."

"Steve," you whisper, coughing into your hand as your legs start to shake. He holds you tighter when you basically collapse into his arms, sweat starting to become too thick, mind hazy, body sticking to his shirtless skin. It's not the best feeling.

Steve automatically starts to feel for any injury first. Your skin is clear, body free of any bruise or wound that could've rendered you to be in this state. His hands move across your body, touching you all over. Your back is a heater, burning his palm when he rises.

"I think you caught something, baby," he mutters kindly. He's surprised to feel you nod. You're known mostly for your stubbornness, and a smile picking at his lips as you lean further into him. "Burning up, Y/N, what's going on?"

"Fever," is all you can muster before full blown dizziness hits you like a tidal wave. You're not sure if Steve had caught you or not as he places you on the ground, the room spinning around you, words mingling together in meaningless jumbles, and your mind too scrambled to feel the hands on your body. "Steve?" Trying to talk was pointless. You had no control over your body, and it was like water had encased you, his voice muffled as your vision blurred.

Your throat felt as if you tried swallowing knives, so you tried to breathe through your nose, which was more or less stuffy. Steve was holding your head off the floor, hand entrapped in your hair. Your ponytail was pulling at your hairline, and the splitting headache wanted you to pull it all out, maybe make things easier for you to sleep.

"Hey," Steve calls sharply, shaking your shoulders the moment your eyes start to close. "No sleeping, Sweetheart," he commands like normal, and you nod, knowing something was wrong. If he was so distressed, something had to be wrong.

The only good thing about all of this, was that he hadn't let go of you. His hands were warm and mostly uncomfortable, but his touch was always so endearing. You loved how caring he was, how he tried to keep you safe whenever out. Even now, lying on the gym floor with a buzzing head and migraine that's lasted you four days and counting, Steve was holding you.

All too fast, you were being hoisted into the air. Faintly, you could hear some form of an apology the moment you tried pushing him away. As much as you loved being in his arms, Steve was too warm. His skin was almost as hot as yours, and your body was just starting to stick to him after barely leaving the gym to enter the hallway.

The world around you was fuzzy, but by the time you got to your destination — Medbay — you were cool again. The air from your boyfriend sprinting across the compound was settling and you adjusted in his arms, happily leaning your head against his collarbone.