→ i know we'll make it anywhere away from here

[yourbestguysgun]

[ His device switches on, a big, black nose snuffling at the camera for a moment. There's a growl, and a yip of excitement before Bucky's voice can be heard, sounding far more hoarse and stuffed up than usual. ]

Crepe. As much as I'd like y'to destroy the damn thing, it isn't food and - [ Okay then, having to stop to sneeze six times in a row isn't good, he should have realised when he started to feel off last night. ] Damnit.

[ Bucky's footfalls are heavy as they cross his bedroom, the snuffling dog thumping her tail against the floor and licking Bucky's wrist as he reaches to pick up the device. The camera pans to the dog, Bucky ruffling the fur on the top of her head. ] Good girl. Now c'mon, back to bed.

[ It's 11am. Neither Bucky nor the dog seem to care. Crepe bounces off, jumps on to the empty, rumpled bed, and Bucky's sigh turns weary before he cuts the feed off. ]

Comments

[yourbestguysgun]

We had to be more careful with you, ass. A cold could'a killed you, f'me it'll just make me feel like crap for a day, two tops. I'm fine.

[punchedhitler]

Drink your tea, Bucky.

I'm still getting you medicine.

[yourbestguysgun]

F-.

[ Bucky reaches for it, resolutely ignoring the way his hands are shaking to wrap them around the warm mug. ] Happy now?

[punchedhitler]

Your fever is going up.

[Steve is so irritatingly patient.]

I'm going to go get you medicine.

[yourbestguysgun]

[ He's going to headbutt you real hard when you come back. Or maybe think about it while he drinks the goddamn tea and has a staring contest with Crepe. ]

[punchedhitler]

[He comes back about a half hour later with cough and fever medicine.]

Still holding on?

[yourbestguysgun]

[ By this point, Bucky's sprawled face down with Crepe sitting on his back. She raises her head and half-barks at Steve, Bucky just makes a noise. ]

If y'care for me, you'll take my gun an' shoot me through the head right now, okay?

[punchedhitler]

[Steve shakes his head]

Sorry, I don't have my gun.

[He carefully shoos Crepe off Bucky and turns his best friend around]

Here, have some medicine.

[yourbestguysgun]

Mine's strapped to the bottom of the bed. It'd be easy.

[ Grumble, grumble. Fine. Medicine. ]

[punchedhitler]

I'm not shooting you.

[Once the medicine has been taken, Steve sits next to him. He is a furnace, as usual]

This feels backwards.

[yourbestguysgun]

You're tellin' me.

[ Fine. Bucky's just going to drape against you now. Take that. Mostly because his head hurts and Steve's shoulder is the best place for it. ]

Y'warm.

[punchedhitler]

You've got a rising fever, that's why you feel cold.

[He knows he shouldn't but he can't help it, he remembers how miserable he had been when he was cold. He maneuvers himself so he has one arm around Bucky and his best friend is leaning mostly on his chest]

[yourbestguysgun]

Feels different.

[ Bucky hums a little. ] You're supposed to be the one I take care of, okay? Opposite land ain't fun.

[punchedhitler]

I owe you. You used to do this for me all the time.

[yourbestguysgun]

No y'don't. Would'a done it anyway.

[punchedhitler]

You must really feel bad.

[You're being slightly sentimental]

[yourbestguysgun]

I'd feel better if I could get my best friend to kill me. Then I'd be swell.

[punchedhitler]

I'm not going to kill you.

You're not that sick.

[yourbestguysgun]

Crepe can jus' smother me then, we'll be fine.

[punchedhitler]

She wouldn't she loves you too much.

[Steve is rubbing the base of Bucky's back now]

[yourbestguysgun]

[ Well, okay. Steve can stay, because that feels good. ]

What's with all this love, huh? I just want someone to take me out.

[punchedhitler]

You need Dugan for that. He would oblige.

[yourbestguysgun]

Oh jeez. He'd be so friggin' gleeful about it too.

[punchedhitler]

He would. I don't know if I approve.

[yourbestguysgun]

We promise not to kill each other.