Flu Season (February)

[theycalledmeacurse]

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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[theycalledmeacurse]

Rogue gave Steve a side-eye look as she considered her options. He would swoop in the second she looked like she might fall, and he was faster than her even when she wasn't sick. Groaning slightly, she rolled her eyes in exasperation before reaching an arm up to his shoulder.

"Might as well just go ahead and do it, sugar," she informed him. "It'll be faster, anyway." She could pick her battles too.

[on_ur_left]

It felt really inappropriate to smile, but Steve still found himself biting his lip to hold back his grin at Rogue's reaction and words. He tucked his arm around her waist, then stooped and swept her legs up, being careful to move more slowly than usual as he straightened back up, so the change in position hopefully wouldn't make her dizzy.

He was aware of every shift of her in his arms as he walked into the bedroom, and tried to move as smoothly as possible, before lowering her to the side of the bed. He grabbed her pajamas and put them beside her, before saying, "I'm gonna go get the thermometer while you get changed, okay?" He knew better than to suggest the indignity of helping her change clothes - really, he needed to just start treating Rogue as if she were him when he used to get sick all the time. Of course, if she acted like he had, she probably would've tried to slug him already. Rogue was actually a much better patient, in that regard.

[theycalledmeacurse]

It was more than apparent that Steve was struggling to hold back his smile, but she was fairly certain that were their positions reversed, she wouldn't have managed nearly as well as he did. She didn't blame him for finding her reaction amusing, lord knew how much delight she took in getting him to make all sorts of expressions.

Giving him a nod, she started working on the buttons of her blouse. It was easy to switch shirts - the pants were more of an obstacle. Since standing was a bit of an iffy venture, she shimmied out of them while staying seated, and managed to get the pajama bottoms on in much the same way. It was probably quite the spectacle, but she thankfully managed to complete it before Steve returned, though the oversized t-shirt may have been inside-out.

[on_ur_left]

It took Steve several minutes of increasingly-frantic searching before he finally found an oral thermometer in one of the cabinets - partly because it was plastic and digital, and the last time he'd had to use one, they'd all been glass and filled with mercury.

Back in the bedroom once more, he handed over the thermometer. "I have no idea how this thing works," he admitted. He was sure it wasn't at all complicated, and he'd be able to figure it out easily enough if he had to, but he could figure it out just watching Rogue use it, and that way she wouldn't feel like he was babying her, as well. It had to be one of her additions to the apartment, anyway, as he had no need for one.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Rogue never failed to find it adorable when Steve admitted he didn't know or understand something. There were so many people who would bumble through things just to try to save face, but Steve wasn't ever ashamed of his lack of knowledge, he simply took steps to fill in the gaps so he would know next time. She was proud of him for choosing to live his life that way.

Pressing the button to make sure the battery still had some juice, set the thermometer on the back of her tongue and waited for about thirty seconds until there was quiet beep that signaled the reading was complete. She removed the thermometer, took a glance at the temperature displayed, and promptly handed it over to Steve.

Yeah, she definitely had a fever.

[on_ur_left]

Steve sat by her knees and took the thermometer back, his eyebrows raising in surprise for a second, before drawing together in slight concern. It wasn't dangerously high, but it wasn't exactly low-grade, either. He shook the thermometer a couple times, before rolling his eyes at himself. "Force of habit," he told her absently, pushing the button to turn it off, before sliding it back into the protective cover.

"Alright." He rested his hands on his knees and leveled Rogue with a look. "Do you want Tylenol, or Advil, for pain? It'll help lower your fever, too. I'd say we should let the fever run its course, but honestly, I'm not real comfortable with it being that high for long. But if you wanna leave it, that's up to you."

[theycalledmeacurse]

As exasperating as he could be when he decided to be a motherhen, she also found it completely adorable when he tried to take care of her. This was the first time she'd really been sick, but on nights when her nightmares had been especially awful, he'd done everything he could to make her comfortable. He was such a sweet man, she really didn't deserve him.

"I'll take something," she decided with only a second of thought. "My throat's starting to feel like a cat scratched it all up. And it might help me sleep a bit better." Sleep was something she desperately wanted at the moment.

[on_ur_left]

Nodding, Steve leaned forward to kiss her forehead again, before going to retrieve the painkillers. He read the directions before shaking two out and taking them back to Rogue.

"Tylenol," he said, handing her the pills. "It didn't say anything about needing to eat food with them." Which, considering her issues with eating still, was probably why she had them stocked.

"Are-- will you be okay for a little while, if I run to the store?" He wanted to get the ingredients he'd need to make some chicken soup. He'd have to go through the cupboards and fridge first though, to see what they already had; this was one of the downsides to letting Rogue run the kitchen - he never knew what was actually there already, on the off-chance that he did decide he wanted to cook.

[theycalledmeacurse]

She popped the pills into her mouth and took a drink of the ginger ale, only mildly grimacing at the pain of actually swallowing them. If they managed to help her feel even a tiny bit better, then it was well worth it. Because right now she felt absolutely terrible.

"I'll be just fine, sugar," she assured him, leaning over to set the mug on the nightstand before slowly, carefully pulling back the covers so she could crawl in between the blankets. "All I'm gonna do is sleep. I promise I won't try any daring escapades while you're gone." It was exhausting to even consider getting out of bed, let alone actually doing anything once she was back on her feet. No, she was perfectly okay with spending the foreseeable future bonding with their pillows.

[on_ur_left]

Steve stood close to the bed, but back far enough that he wasn't in her way, trying not to hover. He clasped his hands together behind his back, falling into parade rest unconsciously; he wasn't wringing his hands, but they were clutched tightly together to keep him from moving forward and helping her. Rogue wouldn't appreciate it, and he needed her to be not-mad at him, so she'd continue to let him take care of her at least a little.

Looking around suddenly, he went into the living room, returning a moment later with her cell phone, which she'd left by the couch, and handed it to her. "Text if you need anything, or think of anything you want me to get. You know what's in the kitchen better than I do," he joked weakly. He was already making a mental list of things he wanted to check if they had, and buy if necessary.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Even when she was at far less than a hundred percent, Rogue could tell when he was trying his darnedest not to do something. In this case, she was guessing it was mother-hen her until she locked him out of the bedroom. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate that he wanted to take care of her, his affection meant the entire world to her, but she really just couldn't help the way it grated on her after a while. So they were the both of them going to have to work at being mindful of each other during this ordeal.

She started to set the cell phone on the bed beside her, then thought better of it and instead put it on the nightstand next to her drink. If she rolled over at any point, then who knew where it might end up. "Thank you, Steve," she murmured, managing to give him a small smile even though she felt like death. "Go on, sugar, I'll be okay."

[on_ur_left]

Sighing softly, he leaned onto the bed, reaching out to put one hand on her cheek and kissing her forehead again. "I love you. I'll be back in a while. Text me if you need anything," he said slightly forcefully, raising his eyebrows to try and get her to understand that he really meant anything, and not just trying to do something herself and falling and hitting her head and he really needed to stop thinking about this now.

[theycalledmeacurse]

"I love you too," she answered, wishing she had the energy to give him a playful shove to get him on his way. Not that it would have done much even when she was at full strength, but he usually got the idea. As it was, she simply made a point of rolling onto her side facing the window and grabbing his pillow to hold like a stuffed animal. He'd be lucky if he got it back when he came to bed that night.

[on_ur_left]

He couldn't help standing there for just a few seconds longer, just watching her even after she'd rolled away from him, before taking a deep breath and moving into the kitchen. Checking the fridge, he wasn't entirely surprised they didn't have the ingredients he needed for soup, as carrots, celery and onions were easy enough to buy, and Rogue liked using fresh ingredients. He'd have to get chicken while he was out, too, but thankfully the local markets had a butchery section with fresh meats.

He didn't find any Jell-O packets in any of the pantry cupboards, either, so he went off to the store with a mental list.

The produce and chicken were easy enough to procure... it was when he went looking for the Jell-O that he ran into trouble. Namely, the sheer volume and diversity of products. There was Jell-O already in individual boxes, but he figured Rogue wouldn't appreciate those. But that still left all the box mixes of various flavors, and boy, were there a lot of flavors. There was the regular fruit flavors; cherry, strawberry, orange. And then there was kiwi, pineapple, raspberry, blue raspberry, and combinations of pretty much all of those, plus flavors like fruit punch (which he at least recognized), arctic blast, tropical... What the heck did 'tropical' even mean?

Finally he just grabbed a few boxes of orange, strawberry, and decided to try the raspberry - even if Rogue didn't like it, he'd eat it. Even if he didn't particularly like it. Jell-O he made himself would taste infinitely better than anything he'd had in the army. (Although possibly with a similar consistency.)

Glancing along the aisle one more time to see if he'd missed anything, he spotted the pudding. Pudding... huh. Now there was an idea. It would definitely be richer and more filling than the Jell-O (although the Jell-O would be better at keeping her hydrated), and it probably had a lot more calories in it. Steve still didn't entirely understand the whole 'calorie counting' thing that everyone seemed to talk about now, but he understood that it helped you gain weight, which was something Rogue needed help with, especially while she was sick and probably wouldn't feel like eating much, anyway. Even less than usual.

His hand hovered over the boxes uncertainly for a minute. He finally picked up two boxes of vanilla, four of chocolate because he was pretty certain she'd always eat something chocolate flavored, and four boxes of butterscotch. He didn't know if Rogue enjoyed butterscotch, but he did, so again - if she didn't eat it, he'd have no problem polishing it all off.

That sorted, Steve swung by the dairy section and bought another gallon of milk - they had one half-full still, but he enjoyed drinking it, and he'd need more for the pudding anyway. Then, he was headed home, checking his phone to make sure he hadn't missed a text from her. She was surely still sleeping - at least he hoped.

Making it back into the apartment quietly, Steve stashed the perishables in the fridge for a moment, set the bag of boxes on the island counter, and went to check on Rogue. Just to make sure.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Rogue was still asleep and in much the same position she'd been in when Steve had left the apartment, although somehow the blankets had ended up bunched up at the end of the bed and half on the floor. She shifted when he came into the room, less at the slight sound he made but more the shifting of the air and the instinctual knowledge of someone else being in the room.

"Hey," she croaked quietly, her throat aching something fierce. "Back already?"

[on_ur_left]

He hadn't meant to disturb her, and Steve winced at her hoarse voice. But she was awake now, at least partially, so he moved over to the bed and knelt down to be closer to eye-level with her.

"Yeah, I knew what I was getting," he murmured softly, ghosting a hand over her hair. He was glad he couldn't get sick anymore, because he couldn't stand the thought of having to leave her alone while she didn't feel good. "Do you need more to drink? I'm gonna go make some soup, but I can get you something real quick."

[theycalledmeacurse]

Just seeing him made her feel better. Safer. More secure. Even as she felt miserable and like she wanted to claw her own skin off, knowing he was there was such a comfort.

"I'm alright," she assured him, resettling against the pillows and glancing over at the nightstand. "I've still got that. You go play chef, sugar, just don't destroy my kitchen." She wasn't so far gone yet that she couldn't tease him a little.

[on_ur_left]

It made him feel better to hear her joking, even when she obviously didn't feel well. Still, he couldn't let her get away with that. Unable to quite hide a lopsided smile, he tilted his head, trying to look affronted. "I'm not a disaster in the kitchen. I was cooking my own food since I was 15, and helping out long before that. Just because I like convenience, doesn't mean I don't know how to do it, without making a mess."

Smoothing her hair down again, he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead, before stroking her cheek. "You just relax, and don't worry about our kitchen. It will survive. But it'll miss you, so you gotta get better. The sooner you're back in there, I'm sure the happier it'll be."

He was trying to make light of the situation and being deliberately ridiculous, not wanting her to worry about how he was feeling about seeing her laid low by illness.

[theycalledmeacurse]

This wouldn't be the first time Steve had cooked for her, but she could certainly count the number of times quite easily, they were so few in number compared to her own daily ventures in the kitchen. It was sweet that he was going to do so now, though, and she appreciated his efforts immensely, even if she couldn't express her gratitude as thoroughly as she'd like.

"Our kitchen," she repeated, smiling despite the way she felt physically. It hadn't been that long since she'd move into the apartment with him, and it was still nice to hear the spaces referred to that way. "You'd better not make the soup too good, or I'll start expecting you to cook more often."

[on_ur_left]

"Yeah, well, I make no promises," he teased, smiling a little easier as they talked. She wasn't dying, she was just sick; she'd bounce back, and soon be up and around again. He just had to keep reminding himself of that. And until she was, he would take care of her as much as she allowed. "Besides, you can't judge it now - your taste buds are sick too, everything tastes different. And food made by someone else always tastes better." He knew both those things from plenty of experience growing up.

Pressing another kiss to her forehead, Steve stood up. "Get some more rest. It's gonna take a while to make the soup. I'll bring you some when it's done." He was about to turn away to leave, before remembering, "Oh. I got some Jell-O and pudding, too. I can make those while the chickens cooking, if you want some now. Any preferences? I got... strawberry, orange, and raspberry for Jell-O flavors, and vanilla, chocolate and butterscotch pudding mixes."

[theycalledmeacurse]

It was hard for Rogue to let anyone take care of her, she was so used to being the one looking after everyone else. And it had been so rare for her to be sick after her mutation manifested -- usually, the first sign of sniffles and Logan had demanded she take a bit of his healing factor to help get over it. The majority of the time, that step had worked, and she could only remember a handful of occasions when she'd been at all bad off. And before her mutation... Well, she'd been like any other child, though she'd done her best to push through any illness and take care of herself, she'd always been so afraid of being a burden. It was a great sign of trust that she was letting Steve help her now, and when she let herself think about it, it was actually quite a relief.

Jell-O and pudding. Oh, wasn't he wonderful. "Raspberry sounds nice," she told him, sitting up a bit more so she could reach over to get her travel mug of ginger ale off the side table. "And you know how I love chocolate."

[on_ur_left]

If Steve had thought about it, he might have tried talking her into doing the same thing as Logan, although he would've had no idea if the serum's effects on his immune system were the same as a mutation and might help her or not. Probably a good thing he hadn't thought of it, anyway. He wouldn't want to upset and alienate her while he was trying to take care of her.

He gave her an affectionate grin. "I do know how you love chocolate," he agreed. "I wasn't sure about the raspberry, but figured even if you didn't want it, I'd eat it. I'll make that first." It didn't require as much tending as pudding did, and he wouldn't have to have two pots on the stove at once, that way. He didn't want Rogue eating anything with milk while her fever was still strong, anyway.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Had Steve suggested it, she would not have taken it well, that was for certain. She'd only ever agreed to the practice with Logan because she knew the effect her mutation had on the other mutant, and she knew how quickly he bounced back from varying lengths of contact. With Steve things were less certain, and with the way she was feeling she would never have agreed to taking such a risk.

"Thank you, sugar," she murmured, sipping at her drink before returning it to the table. "You're the sweetest." And then she turned onto her side again, wrapping herself around his pillow like before. For a moment, she contemplated retrieving the blankets she'd pushed off in her sleep, but she wasn't cold and they kept feeling too constrictive, so she left them where they were.

[on_ur_left]

Steve moved over to the foot of the bed and picked up the discarded blankets. He thought about covering her up, but remembered how uncomfortable fevers could make a person - probably how the blankets had ended up by her feet in the first place - and instead settled them loosely beside her, so she could grab the edge and cover herself easily if she got chills.

"Holler if you need anything," he said, before thinking about how sore her throat already was. "Or text me, I've still got my phone in my pocket." It seemed kind of silly to him, texting someone who was just a couple rooms away, but it was also amazingly convenient if you couldn't talk well.

In the kitchen, he set up a large pot with water, cutting and adding vegetables while the water started heating, then set to work on deboning the chicken and cutting it into bite-size pieces. Once he'd added the chicken, he also added a few liberal dashes of seasonings; he wasn't really working from a recipe, just his own memory of watching his mother and what she had done. She also hadn't used a recipe, per sé, not a written one anyway. Just a general sense of what should be added and approximately when, knowledge handed down from her own mother. The motions were familiar, no matter how long it had been since he'd done this or watched it, and it helped soothe some of his nerves at seeing Rogue so sick.

Once the soup was boiling, he started the kettle heating for water for the Jell-O. He started putting the extra boxes of Jell-O and pudding away as he waited, glancing at each one before organizing them in the cupboard.

That's when he noticed it. The instructions on some of the pudding boxes were... wrong. You just added cold milk to the mix and then... that was it? He started comparing the instructions on all the boxes, and realized some were what he was used to - heat milk, add mix while stirring, let simmer, let cool, etc - and some were just 'add milk', basically.

Steve blew out a flummoxed puff of breath. He really was starting to acclimate and enjoy the 21st Century... but Jesus, people had gotten lazy.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Rogue stayed where she was on the bed for around twenty minutes, trying and failing to doze off again because of the pain in her throat. She shifted onto her back, stretching out in an attempt to find a comfortable position, before turning again onto her other side, even going further so she was partially on her stomach. No matter how she lay, she felt awful, like her skin was too tight and everything inside was being pushed and pulled in the wrong directions. It was enough to make her want to cry in frustration.

Her hand was clumsy as she reached over for her phone, holding it for a while longer in agonized debate before finally turning it on and opening her messages. The idea of bothering Steve for anything made her uncomfortable, but if she climbed out of bed and collapsed in the hallway, he'd be so upset.

Could you check the drawer in the bathroom? I think there's a bag of lozenges in there.