rogue_america | Flu Season (February)

Flu Season (February)

Rogue felt awful.

She'd rolled out of bed that morning feeling sluggish and foggy-headed, and no amount of coffee had helped her break free of the funk she was in. Her limbs felt heavy and she was exhausted despite having gotten a full night's rest. It was a struggle to get through her morning tutoring session, and she'd never been more glad to hear that the second client was sick and needed to cancel. So she trudged home, her throat beginning to itch as she called to see if Steve was there.

When silence answered her, she dropped her bag by the door and toed off her shoes, shrugging off her coat as she padded toward the couch. The coat was discarded on a chair before she plopped down on the couch, pulling down a throw blanket from the back as she stretched out and promptly fell into an uneasy sleep.

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Damning whether she wanted him to touch her or not, Steve moved forward again. He knew as soon as her words broke off that she had realized what had happened to him. He didn't know if she remembered, but it was clear from her actions. "Sw--" he bit off the term of endearment, desperately wanting to say it, but not wanting to possibly upset her more. "Rogue. I'm sorry. Come on, come here." He reached out and took her gently by the upper arm, ready to guide her back to at least sit down on the side of the bed.

She let him help her back to the bed, going without protest this time. His touch was grounding, reminding her of the life she had on this world. The life she had with him.

"Steve, I--" She wanted to apologize for having put him through that, for making him worry about her, but the words wouldn't come. Opening her mouth to try again, all that came out was a sob as she leaned into him and started to cry from the weight of her grief, guilt, and frustration.

Heart breaking all over again as she started crying, Steve gathered her up against his chest, soothing a hand down her back, the other cupping her head against his shoulder. "Shhh," he soothed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, darling," he murmured, swaying just slightly.

After just a moment, he pulled them both over the couple steps to the side of the bed, sitting down and settling Rogue beside him, still holding her and whispering reassurances and apologies into her hair.

He shouldn't be apologizing, it was stupid, all of this was so stupid. He'd been gone for almost five years now, she shouldn't be crying like this. That's what she kept telling herself while she struggled to regain her composure, not able to face just how strong her grief was after having, for just a few minutes, forgotten that Remy was gone. In a way, she'd lost him all over again, and made her feel like she was dying inside.

A few minutes passed before she calmed, exhaustion weighing her down even more so now than before. "I'm sorry, Steve," she murmured against his shirt. "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for, okay? Nothing." He kept his voice soft, but his words were adamant. He pressed a kiss to her hair just above her forehead. "Let's lay down for a little bit, okay? Come on, I'll lay down with you."

Gently, he urged her onto the bed, scooting close to her and keeping an arm wrapped around her.

She didn't have the energy to argue with him, barely had the energy to curl up properly on the bed instead of just falling face-down into her pillow. It was good that he stayed close - she pressed even closer, finding comfort in his warmth and solid presence.

"Please don't leave me..." was her whispered request before she fell asleep, her body demanding that she give in and rest.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, holding her just that little bit tighter. "Never," he whispered, even though he was pretty sure she'd already fallen asleep. "Never ever."

He stayed there, holding her while she slept, for quite a while. He wasn't at all tired physically, but emotionally he was a little drained, as he always was after Rogue had nightmares and he had to help settle her down. Being strong and seeing her in so much pain was exhausting. So he lay with her, letting his mind wander, not allowing it to settle on any one thing for too long.

Eventually, he remembered that he'd left the stove on; the heat had been lowered, but that wasn't going to keep the food indefinitely. With great reluctance, pressing a kiss to her forehead first, he gently shook Rogue awake enough to murmur, "I have to go back to the food. I'm still here, okay?"

While he held her, Rogue slept pretty heavily, exhaustion pulling her deep enough that she didn't notice how terrible she felt anymore. It wasn't until Steve gently shook her that she woke, blinking up at him in confusion for a few moments before registering what he'd said.

"Okay," she finally croaked, letting her eyes close again as she nodded slightly. "Love you." It would have been nice if he could stay, he was so warm and she felt so safe with his arms around her, but the part of her that was still thinking logically knew that she needed to eat something and that Steve would be insufferable if she didn't.

The last thing Steve wanted to do was get out of bed and move away from Rogue, but practicality won out over his own wishes. "I love you too," he murmured, kissing her forehead before moving back to the kitchen.

Thankfully, since he'd left the stove on low instead of turning the burners off completely, the food had continued to cook. Testing the soup, he figured it needed another 5-10 minutes at most. The pudding he looked at dubiously, but after a tasting, he decided it was salvageable, after skimming the film that had started to form off the top of it, and giving it a thorough stirring.

Not quite twenty minutes after he'd left her, Steve was moving back into the bedroom, this time carrying a lap tray with a bowl of soup, smaller bowl of homemade chocolate pudding, and another cup of ginger ale. He set it down at the foot of the bed, reaching out to skim his hand along Rogue's upper arm, before gently shaking her shoulder.

"Hey, sweetheart. I brought food."

Had she the energy to startle, she likely would have at waking from a deep sleep again, but as it was, she just blinked up at Steve a few times before comprehending what he'd said. Food. Right. He'd been cooking, that's why he'd had to leave her earlier...

Sitting up slowly, carefully, she reached for more pillows to prop herself up with when her eyes caught on the tray. "Chocolate pudding," she murmured, a subdued smile curling her lips when she looked up at Steve. "And soup. You take such good care of me."

Steve couldn't help the way he lit up at her words. "You make it an interesting challenge, but I like a challenge." He kept his tone light, and made sure to phrase his words in such a way so as to (hopefully) not make her feel guilty, for the earlier confusion and drama, or just being a bad patient in general. "Eat the soup first," he preemptively scolded her lightly, "but let me know how the pudding tastes."

The words were sweet, though they brought up a sad memory of another man she'd once adored with all her heart and soul. Remy had said much the same thing on various occasions, always in the same light tone. Apparently she had a type - stubborn, handsome, and loved a good challenge.

Smiling softly at his instruction, she rebelliously went for the pudding first, scooping up half a spoonful to taste, letting the flavor coat her tongue and enjoying what of it she could actually taste. "It's good," she informed him, the barest hint of mischief in her gaze before she turned her attention to the soup, which was also pronounced to be good.

He should've known telling her not to do something would make her do that first. Steve sighed in exasperation, but still smiled. He decided to look at it as Rogue feeling at least well enough to be mischievous, which helped ease his anxiety somewhat. And at least she went for the soup after that first taste of pudding.

"You're horrible," he told her, trying to look serious as he chastised her.

She had just enough energy to summon up that bit of mischief, knowing that he would be comforted by it in some way. Her body still felt completely awful, but she was at least now more aware of her actions than she had been before. There was no telling how long it might last, though.

"You love me," she reminded him with a bit of playfulness, continuing to slowly eat her soup. After she swallowed her next spoonful, she softly added, "I'm sorry about earlier. I don't remember all of it, but-- I'm sorry."

Steve took a slow, steadying breath at her apology. It still hurt, remembering how she'd reacted to him, how she'd been so frantically searching for Remy, but what was the worst was how anxious, and then devastated, the entire ordeal had made her.

"I hope you remember I told you there was nothing to apologize for," he finally said gently. "You were disoriented. Should I apologize if I suddenly started looking for Peggy, or Bucky?" He swallowed after saying it, their names conjuring up the image; frantically searching for Peggy, Rogue trying to comfort him - the horrible realization eventually hitting him that the Peggy he was searching for was gone, like a physical blow. He still remembered it from when he first woke up, but at the time there had been no one around to see him break down from it.

"You love him," he continued, deliberately using the present tense. "I--" he gave in and scrubbed a frustrated hand over his face a couple times. "It hurt, hearing you calling out for him, but-- I think it was the suddenness of it, more than anything. I didn't know what was happening, at first."

He left out her drawing away from him, even though it had hurt, too - it had been an instinctual move, and she'd eventually let him touch her. Regardless, he didn't blame or begrudge her for any of it, and he hoped she understood that.

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Flu Season (February)

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