BB5 Everybody Needs Somebody Sometimes
Bucky awoke from his slumber, feverish, on the couch. He'd sweated through his shirt and was damp from head to toe. It had been over 70 years since he'd been ill.
Joy was still perched in the ugly orange chair, reading a book. Her shoes were off and her feet were tucked up under her. When he began to move, she looked over at him. She seemed concerned, and got the thermometer again. It was a neat contraption- not like the old glass ones. This one was plastic, and beeped after a few seconds. She looked more concerned after the beep. "It's 103 again."
He sighed. "Back in the tub?"
She nodded. "And more tylenol."
She helped him up and they struggled back to the restroom. She filled the tub with tepid water, helped him remove most of his outer garments, and got him into the tub. He slipped, dragging her down into the water with him on accident. She slipped on top of him. He started. He hadn't been so close to a female in a very long time, even if it WAS an accident.
"Shit!" She cried. "This water is COLD." She paused for a second, then climbed off of him, almost slipping again in the water."
"That's why I'm not enjoying this very much." He replied, helping her out of the tub. "There are extra towels under the sink."
She looked under the sink. There was also a glock under there. She chose to ignore this and grabbed a towel. This man was obviously paranoid, and it seemed like he had good reason to be. "Don't go anywhere." She said. "I'm going next door to change clothes."
She left, and he could hear his front door slam shut. He knew she was right. He should be at the doctor's right now. But he couldn't risk it. He would rather die in the arms of a stranger than live another second working for the Russians.
He could feel himself getting delusional. He was hearing things. Russian things. He could see their machinery, and suddenly he was back in surgery, getting his arm grafted on. He looked down at it, stretched it out, flexed, like it was brand new. He could have killed his neighbor with it at any time, and that was a scary thought. He knew he wouldn't, but he could.
When Joy came back, he was passed out again in the tub. She woke him up and forced him to drink water. She wasn't sure what else to do besides try to break his fever. She hoped he didn't die. He seemed like a nice enough man, and she really didn't want to go to jail for neglect. Could she even, if he hadn't wanted to go to the hospital? She wasn't sure.
His fever came down, but continued to spike and drop all throughout the night. She sat diligently beside him, dozing off at times. He would wake up and be startled that there was someone in his home, then recognize her.
When morning broke, so did his fever. It was now down to a manageable 99 degrees.
"You're out of the woods, B." She told him.
"Why do you keep calling me B?" He asked.
"You're obviously running. A name like Bucky in 2015 is kind of conspicuous. B can stand for tons of things." She explained.
He nodded. "I guess that makes sense." He paused. "Can I ask you a favor? Another one I guess, because you probably saved my life."
She nodded. "Sure."
He wasn't used to all of the slang that people spoke nowadays. "Could we listen to your records? Do you have anything old?"
"I don't think I have anything from the forties, but I have some older jazz." She stood. "Are you feeling well enough to come to my place?"
He thought he was. He got unsteadily to his feet, put on some actual clothes (he'd been relegated to boxers for the duration of his fever and chills, which quite possibly had been the worst experience of his already awful life) and followed her next door. When she wasn't looking he tucked a small gun into his waistband and hid it under his black shirt. He never could be too careful.
She pointed to a stack of apple crates stacked up along one wall of her apartment. A record player sat in the middle. "We can listen to whatever you want to."
He scanned them all. He finally picked out an old Ella Fitzgerald album.
"You can take the couch. I'll make you some tea." Joy told him. He relaxed on the red sofa and looked around. Her apartment was bright and cheery, whereas his was dark and gloomy. She had hardwood floors too, but most of her floor was covered in a very fluffy bright green throw rug. The Towels in her kitchen were electric blue. Her red sofa had pink pillows on either end. There was a small coffee table with a book on it. It was titled "Madonna: Sex". He opened it, curious. He closed it almost immediately.
She came back in with two mugs of tea. Bucky thanked her, and sat back, enjoying his tea and taking in the music.