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To say that Sam was feeling like shit was an understatement. For the past two days, he’s been lying in his bed, drifting in and out of consciousness while coughing his lungs out. At this point, it was hard for him to tell reality from his bizarre fever dreams haunting him every time he managed to fall asleep. He was abruptly woken up and saw Bucky’s face hovering over him just a few inches away.
“Jesus, wh-what are you doing? How did you get into my house?” Sam blurted out, his eyes losing focus.
“You weren’t answering my messages and calls. And then you weren’t answering your door, so I got in through the window,” Bucky replied, eyeing the mess in Sam’s bedroom.
Clothes were scattered across the floor, and used tissues were piling up under the bed. A bunch of medicine lay on the bedstand beside Sam’s head, who was currently struggling to sit up.
“Man, you look like shit. What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, placing his hand on the other man’s temples. “You’re hot”.
“Damn right I am,” Sam laughed, his chuckle turning into a coughing fit that shook his whole body. Bucky just rolled his eyes.
James went on to pull up the blinds and bring his sick friend a cup of water.
“Why did you even try to reach out to me?” Sam asked, gulping down the cold liquid. He hasn’t even realized how thirsty he was until now.
“Just some mission regarding taking down a Hydra base. It can wait tough,” Bucky shrugged.
“No, it’s fine. Just give me a minute and I’ll be on my way with you-“
“Yeah, no. I don’t think so. You can barely stand on your own and I’m pretty sure I could boil an egg on your forehead. It can wait.” Bucky’s voice was firm, demanding. Sam found himself way too tired to argue with him, a violent shiver running down his spine.
“It’s like I’m both hot and cold at the same time. I hate it, it’s so weird”
“Wait, let me-” The brunette reached out his left arm to place it on his friend's face. The cool metal, contrasting with Sam’s warm skin, felt pleasant and calming. The sick man sighed dreamily.
“Could we stay like this for a little while? Your touch feels nice,” Sam murmured. On any other occasion, he would pay more mind to what words leave his mouth, but at that moment all he could think about was the relief he felt with the vibranium palm pressed against his cheek. Sleep started creeping into his eyes and he let his mind slip away.
-
A loud scream echoed through Sam’s ears, harsh wind blowing in his face. He was looking around frantically, when he finally saw him. Riley. Riley was falling. Sam’s eyes adjusted to the dark momentarily and he found himself flying towards his wingman at top speed.
He wasn’t going to make it in time. No matter how fast he was going, it was still too slow. He managed to catch a glimpse of Riley’s eyes, full of terror and alarm. A broken yell tore out of Sam’s chest as his friend hit the ground with a loud thud.
“Sam. Sam! Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.” Bucky’s voice rang in his ears. “It’s alright, you’re safe,” he cooed softly, gently grabbing Sam’s hand to untangle its iron grip from his shirt.
The other man was panting, his heart hammering in his chest. His lungs burned as if they were going to explode and his head felt fuzzy.
“I- I was- and then…” Sam felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He quickly rubbed them away, but new ones started forming immediately.
“I’ll be in another room. You can come to me when you’re ready.” Bucky squeezed his shoulder once and shot him an understanding smile. After that he walked out of Sam’s bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Sam sobbed weakly into his pillow as he was left alone. Painful memories flood his mind and tug at his heartstrings.
Over time, his breathing steadied, and he shook less. He managed to roll over and take a sip of his water. He was thankful that Bucky left. Showing such vulnerability as crying in front of someone was something he was not ready for yet, no matter how close their relationship was. Bucky knew and understood that, after all, he also always put on a tough facade. Call it a bad habit.
When Sam walked out of his bedroom, his eyes still red from crying, he found the other man sitting on his couch, reading a book he had picked up from Sam’s shelf.
“Hey,” he croaked out, his voice sore from weeping and coughing.
“Hey… Are you okay?” Bucky asked, his eyes filled with visible worry.
“Yeah, it was just a nightmare. Sorry about that.” Sam shrugged. He could feel his eyes begin to water again. It wasn’t the first time he had dreamt of- no, relived- that dreadful moment of Riley’s death. Every single time the horrible feeling of helplessness overwhelmed him and made him break down.
“Must have been a bad one,” Bucky said, scooting over on the couch and urging his friend to sit next to him. Sam took a deep breath. For a moment he contemplated brushing the situation off and pinning everything down to his sickness and fatigue. Yet a part of him wanted to confide in Bucky. He knew, Bucky of all people, would understand the dread of waking up from a horrible nightmare. Sam has witnessed it happening to the other man on a few occasions.
“Back…Back when I was in the Air Force I had a friend. My wingman, Riley,” Sam's voice quivered. “He died on a mission in Afghanistan. An RPG struck him and he fell from the sky. I couldn’t-“ he swallowed harshly. “I couldn’t reach him…I still dream about it sometimes and it's just…”
Sam didn't need to finish his sentence for Bucky to understand. The weight of not being able to save someone, swarming his conscience, was something he grew well accustomed to. Just the thought of his friend feeling this helpless made him frown. Suddenly, Sam felt a strong hand resting on his shoulder, a gentle palm rubbing soothing circles on his back.
“I get it. Some things stay with you forever.” Bucky looked up to stare at the man before him. “It wasn't your fault. It was a terrible accident, there's nothing you could've done.” He took a deep breath and leaned against Sam's side, placing his head in the crook of the other man's neck. “I'm not asking you to move on, I know it's not easy. Sometimes I even doubt if it's possible.” His gaze drifted off to his hands clasped tightly together. “But…you can try to heal.”
“And how am I supposed to do that? Heal?” Sam asked, his voice nasal due to the rhinitis. He didn't mind Bucky’s touch, his weight settled against him. It brought him a sense of comfort and a warm feeling inside his chest, which he decided to ignore for now.
“First of all we should bring down your fever,” Bucky said jokingly. To that, a small chuckle escaped Sam’s lips and he felt himself relax.
They both made their way to the bedroom, Bucky holding up Sam so he won’t trip over his own feet. As Sam’s head hit the soft pillow he heard Bucky murmur gently.
“I’ll be here.”
“What, when I wake up?” Sam asked, tucked under a blanket, his eyes heavy. Metal fingers softly grazed his temple.
“Forever.” He felt a warm breath and soft lips press against his forehead, as he drifted off to peaceful sleep.