Steve coughed into his arm as he rolled over in bed, pulling the quilt over his shoulder. It was cold, and he was alone -- as usual. The problem was, he knew Iif he could just get up he wouldn't be so alone.

He had been alone, but the potential for that to be no longer was there -- at first, all he had was a new ghost that had taken to haunting him: the Winter Soldier.

He'd stalked silently, always masked completely, always looking ready to pounce at a moment's notice. It made Steve tense, but, as no action had been had and he knew he could take him on in a physical altercation, Steve didn't press the matter -- just assumed he was another villain making his rounds.

Until he'd come face to face with him while walking -- staggering right into him after a chaotic battle downtown. Steve hadn't known which way was up, let alone if someone was silently in front of him.

The Winter Soldier held his shoulder a moment as Steve straightened up from the crash.

"Steve?"

The word was quiet amongst the din of chaos but Steve latched onto it; he stared at the Winter Soldier, eyes wide, lips parted as he was about to say something to him. Then an explosion was to his right, he turned to help, and when he turned back the soldier had vanished into thin air.

////

He knew that voice. Warm and comforting normally, now a dull rasp, unused -- his voice used to be a quilt around Steve's shoulders, now he was being strangled with what that meant -- what he did, what he hadn't done, to save Bucky's life.

He stared off as he continued his efforts, finally shaking Bucky from his mind. Plenty of time to dissolve and process that information later, Bucky was alive, he was here in Manhattan, but for now there were lives to help, so that's what he did.

////

The universe had other plans for Steve Rogers than for him to find his best friend and soulmate whom he'd thought had died years ago. No, of all things, Steve caught the flu: a two week miserable being away from work, mind racing and unable to go anywhere.

So he stayed in bed, quilt over his shoulders, bitterly wishing he did not have to be so achingly alone.

////

There came a knock at the door -- uncertain, somehow, and Steve saw the shadow of someone shuffling behind it.

Sniffling, he pried the door open to greet his hesitant caller.

There was the Winter Soldier at his door with chicken soup. Steve stared at him until the world started to spin and he had to sit down. "Bucky..?"

"I brought you soup," he said, voice rough but quiet, brushing past him like he's done this thousands of times. And Steve let him, just... staring at him as Bucky set the soup on the table and glanced around, a little awkward now that he had nothing for his hands to do.

"How are you-- what -- " Steve's head was too foggy for this, too foggy for Bucky to be there in his apartment, alive, looking back at him and not being a ghost Steve had become so used to.

"It's, um... complicated," he murmured and pointed vaguely to the soup. "Do you... want it?"

Steve sat and took a sip, mind still whirling but maybe that was the flu speaking -- God, he wanted to sleep and wake up and have everything be normal.

"Can you tell me why you're here?" he managed between mouthfuls of soup. Bucky quietly sat on the edge of the couch, fidgeting with his hands.

"I know you," he said simply instead of a long winded explanation he didn't want to give. "And you're sick," he added the obvious, in case Steve had forgotten. "I said I'd always find my way back to you." He spoke nothing but the truth but the emotion was there in the last sentence, and Steve put down his spoon.

"You did." He tried not to let tiredness and emotion cloud him; even still, his voice came out warbled. "You're home, Buck."

////

That night Bucky Barnes was his quilt, quietly murmuring that everything would be okay, I've got you, Steve, I'm not losing you again. And Steve allowed himself to believe it as he sniffled into his pillow.

"I don't wanna get you sick," he'd said when Bucky had settled in. With a quiet sigh that sounded more amused than anything else, Bucky just held him closer.

"With all the bullsh*t they put in me I think a little flu isn't going to hurt," he reasoned, draping an arm over him, pulling him gently against his chest. Steve closed his eyes, swallowed the lump in his throat, and allowed himself to be lulled to sleep.

Bucky held him gently, pressing his forehead against his shoulder. "I won't lose you again," he said softly, a silent promise into the night.

////

Wasn't sure how to do this one but I did enjoy it :)