Bucky was worried. No, scratch that, he was going out of his mind. In all the years that he had known y/n, she had never ignored his calls or texts. He had texted her that morning to ask if she wanted to go to the market with him, but she had never responded. That was over three hours ago.
Giving up on waiting for a reply, Bucky grabs his keys and heads for the garage. One of the things he was most grateful for in modern times was the tinted windows on his Audi that blocked the UV rays from his skin.
Speeding through the narrow, twisting, and turning mountain roads much than he should, Bucky makes it to y/n's cottage within 15 minutes. The sight of her car parked in the garage does little to quell the waves of anxiety rushing over him. Screeching to a halt inside the open spot for his car, he races inside the silent home, calling out; "Y/N?! Are you here?!"
The only response he receives is the steady ticking from the clock in the kitchen. Deciding that she might not be able to hear him, Bucky walks through each room one by one. Each one is as devoid of life as the last until he stops in front of her bedroom door. Slowly pushing it open, relief floods through him as he sees y/n curled up under her blankets.
He quietly approaches the bed, taking in her peaceful expression. He gently brushes back a few stray strands of hair from her face, frowning when he feels how abnormally warm she is. Bucky quickly racks his brain, trying to remember what to give a human with a fever. He vaguely remembers his mother putting a paste of herbs on his forehead and rushes to the kitchen to get to work.
Once satisfied with the paste of mint, sage, lavender, and thyme, he takes it back upstairs only to find y/n sitting up and blinking groggily. "Buck? What are you doing here?" Her voice is hoarse and sleepy.
He carefully places the bowl of paste on her bedside table before taking a seat on the bed. "You weren't answering your phone and I got worried so I came to check on you. You have a bit of a fever so I made some medicine my mother used to paint on my forehead whenever I was sick," he explains.
"That's sweet of you Buck. Thank you for checking on me, but I already have medicine that I'm using. Although, I wouldn't say no to you keeping me company. If you want to that is?" she asks hesitantly.
"I'd love to keep you company, draga mea." Bucky gives her a dazzling smile before becoming playfully stern. "But only if you let me take care of you; you can tell me what to do and when you're supposed to take your medicine."
"Deal," she grins at him.
While y/n takes a warm bath, Bucky makes her some chicken soup, just the way his ma taught him. Then once she's bundled up back in bed after having eaten the soup and taken her medicine, Bucky lays down next to her, setting the alarm on his phone for when she has to eat again, then starts up her laptop and pulls up the first episode of Once Upon a Time.
Within minutes she's fast asleep, cuddled tight to Bucky's side and breathing softly. "Sweet dreams, doll. I'll be right here until you're better," he whispers, placing a gentle kiss on top of her head.