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Sam, genuinely, woke up feeling like death. The other side of the bed was once again cold, meaning Bucky was still away. Meaning Sam had to fight a fever, and fight his two children to get in the car by 8:30. He turned over, peering at the blinking red lights.
7:56
Fantastic.
He rubbed his eyes in an effort to wake himself up. He could hear Riley through the wall as she pattered around, which meant she would barge into his room in a matter of minutes. Sam would normally be up by now, if not for what could only be described as hell. He groaned, lifting the blankets off of him. He rose from the bed, shivering from the sudden breeze that hit his skin. He doesn’t remember the house feeling so cold. He opened the bedroom door, revealing Riley standing at his door, two lopsided pigtails on her head, dressed in a shirt that Sam was pretty was inside out.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” Sam mumbled, his voice hoarse. She smiled, big brown eyes staring up at him.
“Morning, daddy!” She said, sweet and smiley. Sam smiled, making his way into the kitchen. She was at his heels, following him down the hallway. He popped two pieces of bread into the toaster.
“Wait for it to pop, I gotta get your sister.” He told her, but she had already busied her with other things.
“You sound bad, daddy.” She said casually. Sam sighed, shaking his head as he walked down the hall towards his youngest daughter's room. Stevie stirred in her sleep, and Sam had to derive a plan on how to get both of his children out the door in 30 minutes, without giving them whatever hell that had hit him. Specifically the 6 month old.
“Okay, this is what we’re gonna do.” Sam muttered, thinking aloud. “Gloves. Gloves, we have gloves and masks, perfect.” He rushed to the bathroom, digging around their cabinet, finding what he needed. Between the minute at most Sam had been out of the room, she had started in a fit in her crib. “Okay, hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Sam murmured, lifting her out of the crib.
It would be really helpful if Bucky walked through the door right about now.
~~~
It was 8:35. They were still in the doorway. Sam was about to implode.
“Riley, we need to leave.” The 4 year old would not budge from the floor, deciding on what shoes to wear.
“Just a minute.” She whined. Like her father.
“Honey, please, we are going to be late.” Sam all but pleaded, Stevie becoming fussy in her car seat next to Sam. He squeezed his eyes shut.
“Okay, okay, okay.” She pouted, strapping two shoes that were not even remotely the same. Fine. That’s fine.
“Thank you.” Sam sighed, grabbing the handle of the car seat, and opening the door.
~~~
Sam was home from dropping Riley off by 9:30, feeling as if he had never slept a day in his life. He had Stevie entertained in a matter of minutes, and prayed he hadn’t gotten her sick.
He watched as she babbled to herself on the ground, completely unbothered by Sam’s presence on the couch. Sam smiled at her as she lived in her own little bubble. Much more independent, in contrast to her sister, which Sam gets reminded of in times like these.
He willed himself to stay awake as long as she would, which wouldn’t be too much longer. The fever was really kicking Sam’s ass, though, as he bundled and unbundled himself in blankets, felt the exhaustion creep up on him, forcing his eyes open in efforts to keep an eye on his child.
With the grace of god, she got tired a bit before noon, and Sam finally let sleep hit him, feeling his eyes close before he even got into his room.
~~~
By 4, the house was loud again, and a bit too much for a fever ridden Sam to handle. Riley was filled with energy that was difficult to contain on a good day, which had Stevie whimpering that would surely turn into a tantrum if Sam didn’t stop it.
“Riley.” Sam said sternly from the kitchen as he did the dishes, watching as she jumped around the living room. Stevie could get caught in the cross fire, which would leave nobody happy.
“Yeah?” She said, turning to look at Sam.
“This isn’t a good idea, you’re gonna get either you or your sister hurt. Or both. Cut it out.”
She pouted at him. Fucking Bucky’s influence. She pattered into the kitchen, big brown eyes looking at him.
“Can you play with me then?”
Sam sighed. Good god .
“Honey, I’m sick, and I can’t get you sick, too. Go find a colouring book, or your puzzles.” Sam suggested. Her frown deepened. “I’m sorry, Riley, there’s only so much I can do.”
“When will Dad be home?” She mumbled.
“I don’t know. Soon, though. Now, go sit with your sister and do something calmly while I start dinner.”
She sighed, but her lips quirked up a bit.
“Okay, daddy.” She muttered, her voice etched in that faux sadness Bucky pulled on him sometimes. Bucky, who would not, and will never, hear the end of this. Sam watched as she wandered back into the living room grabbing one of her favourite books from the shelf, and plopping down beside her sister, who seemed awfully uninterested in the colouring book.
Everything seemed to be going great, besides the fact that Sam was actively feeling like death, and tried at all cost to avoid getting his children sick. He made an easy dinner with leftover pasta, using up all the stranglers in the fridge.
Which is when Stevie started to cry. Really fucking cry. Sam turned with a start, quick on his feet as he rushed into the living room. Riley looked as startled as Sam, which rules out the possibility of a pencil crayon to the eye.
“Hey, sweet girl, what’s a matter?” Sam cooed, reaching out to pick the absolutely wailing Stevie from off the ground.
“She just started crying.” Riley said innocently.
Sam pressed a hand to her forehead, hoping he hadn’t given her this fever. When he felt the burn of her forehead, his heart dropped a little bit.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry, I know, I know.” Sam muttered, bringing her into his arms. No use trying to distance himself now, he thought.
“Dad!’ Riley exclaimed, which, okay, wasn’t the greatest thing for the situation, but Sam felt a wave of relief hit him as he heard Bucky’s voice. Sam stood up slowly, still cradling Stevie in his arms. Bucky already had Riley in his arms when Sam turned to look at him, listening intently to every word that flew out of her mouth. The sight of it almost made Sam forget about the quite ill baby he had in his hands.
Bucky put Riley down as she finished her story, and she immediately ran to her room, in search of something, apparently. Sam practically fell into Bucky’s embrace.
“Never, ever leave again.” Sam mumbled into his shoulder. Bucky laughed. “Stevie has a fever.”
Bucky took the wailing infant from Sam’s arms.
“Jesus, she is burning up.” Bucky muttered. Sam hummed, snaking his arms around Bucky. “How are you?”
“I feel horrible, actually, thank you for asking.” Sam answered. Bucky huffed a laugh.
“Go to bed, I can handle this.” Bucky told him. Sam made a start to protest, but he knew better than to argue with Bucky about this. Also, he was really fucking tired.
~~~
Sam woke up a few hours later, Bucky beside him on the bed.
“I hope you understand the hell it is to take care of an infant and 4 year old while dealing with a fever.” Sam slurred, pressing his face right against Bucky’s left shoulder. Bucky hummed.
“I’m sorry I took so long.” Bucky said. Sam shrugged.
“Not your fault.” Sam mumbled, pressing himself closer to Bucky.
“You’re burning up, Sam.”
“Don’t care, missed you.” He argued, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist.
“I missed you too, sweetheart.” Bucky muttered, pressing his lips to Sam’s hairline.
“Oh,
by the way
, I don’t know what kind of influence you have on our daughter, but holy shit.”
“Which one?” Before Sam could answer the question, Riley knocked at the door. “Come in, Riley.” Bucky shouted loud enough for her to hear. She came barrelling in, trying to squeeze herself between Sam and Bucky. Bucky sighed, moving her to the other side of him, without the petri dish of sickness that was Sam Wilson. When given no explanation, she pouted at him. “Honey, your daddy is sick, and you might get sick if you’re too close.”
“Is that he sounds so bad today?” She asked innocently. Sam sighed. Bucky bit back a laugh.
“
Which one
?” Sam whispered
“Yeah, I know, I know.” Bucky dismissed. Sam huffed. Riley was sufficed to curl up practically on Bucky’s chest, tiny fingers clutching at his t-shirt as she laid there. Sam smiled gently, as if anything else would break this.
Sam drifted off to sleep a little while later, a smile on his lips.