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Yelena leans her head against the cool metal of the elevator wall, watching the numbers change at its steady rate, ascending toward the living quarters. She wipes her finger against her nose, feeling a sneeze coming on. She can’t remember the last time she had been sick. In the Red Room, they spent so much of their childhood indoors that outside viruses and bacteria had very little room to infect the widows. Even after they defeated Dreykov she was constantly on the move, never paying any mind to if her immune system was fighting something.
The elevator dings, indicating its arrival on the floor, the doors opening slowly. She walks out, heading straight for one of the common area couches to fully crash onto. It’s Sunday, so the majority of the team is scattered throughout the tower or out running errands, everyone mainly keeping to themselves. She is thankful there is nothing on the radar on the TV screen in front of her. The device would let them know if they needed to get ready for a mission.
She sniffles and feels the bottom of her neck as if she could relieve the pain in her throat through her skin. She coughs roughly. She was dressed in sweatpants and a casual tank top, thankful she had just done laundry, her clothes are warm around her body. She feels a chill run through her body and reaches for the neatly folded blanket placed on the couch cushions, most likely by Bob in one of his many cleaning endeavors.
The team would constantly tell him that he didn’t need to clean or cook, but he would refuse to stop, making note that this was the way he could contribute to the team. Yelena had told him that was as much a part of the team as anyone else, but he ignored her, in favor of his own self-loathing.
In the months since the Void had taken over New York, the team had found a groove of living and working together in the tower. This had included every member of the team having routine therapy sessions and constant group check-ins. Yelena participated fully, yet reluctantly, and felt it was part of her job to make sure Bob was okay, too. He was definitely getting better, with no Sentry to show for it.
She closes her eyes, trying her best to fall asleep, despite the daylight shining through the floor-to-cieling windows of the tower. While the team had tried their best to make the building their new home, every room was littered with memories of ghosts and unimaginable legacies. Most rooms went untouched, in favor of the six of them staying as close together as possible. But even the common areas had a sterile quality to them that no amount of blankets or carpets could fix.
She feels that feeling now, surrounded by the cool air and the quiet hum of the refrigerator, she shivers underneath the blanket, thankful no one is seeing her in this vulnerable state.
The elevator dings from across the room and she can hear footsteps and quiet murmurs come in her direction as the doors close behind the visitors. Under her breath, she curses in Russian and rolls onto her side, facing the couch cushions, hoping to obscure her presence from view.
The voices get louder as they approach the common area, steel-toed boots heavy on the hard floors.
“The answer is no, John,” she hears Bucky say, feeling the roll of his eyes from her position all on the couch.
“But it’s been stuck like that for months now, It’s unusable.” The voice of John Walker echoes through the hall into her vicinity, he almost sounds like a child, whining for whatever he wants and not getting it. “It looks like a taco, it can’t function as a shield and it barely works as a weapon. It needs to be fixed.”
“It’s one of our lowest priorities right now,” Bucky replies, “we can fix it later,” he trails off. Yelena hears their conversation and their footsteps come to a stop and she scrunches her eyes shut, hoping that it will somehow turn her invisible.
“Hmm,” she hears John hum, taking a step closer. “Who do we have here?” His footsteps come closer to her. The second pair follow as Bucky’s heavy breathing makes its way to her ear.
“I wonder,” Bucky chuckles slightly, putting a metal hand to his face. “Hmm, ‘Lena, what’re you doing there, like this?” He asks, gesturing to her bundled form.
She doesn't reply, only stifling a sniffle and maintaining her back turned towards the two men. She feels a dip in the couch cushion by her feet and a gentle hand on her side.
“Is everything okay?” John says, rubbing her blanketed hip. She turns onto her back to make eye contact with him but still not saying anything. She feels a sneeze coming on and tries to muffle it with her elbow, but it was no use.
“That doesn’t sound very good, ‘Lena,” Bucky chimes in, putting down the groceries she noticed he was holding and sitting on the coffee table across from them.
“I’m fine,” she croaks out, her vocal chords betraying her. John winces at the crackle in her tone and pats her side. He scoots closer, tugging on her arm to coax her into a sitting position, a groan escaping her lips.
“You’re not fine,” John breathes out. She huffs in response and leans back against the cushions.
Bucky reaches out with his right arm and places the back of his palm on her forehead.
“She’s burning up,” he says to John who nodded, getting up and walking into the kitchen for the first aid kit. He comes back with the thermometer and hands the contraption to Bucky who takes it in his hands. He clicks the sanitation button and plastic covers the mouth piece.
“Open,” Bucky tells her, who just rolls her eyes. He holds the piece slightly closer, giving her a look.
“I’m not a child and yet, here you are treating me like one,” she huffs, opening her mouth slightly so Bucky can place the thermometer. They sit in silence, waiting for the temperature reading, Yelena growing more uncomfortable by the second.
The device beeps and she spits it out as fast she can, muttering a quick apology for any saliva she gets on her teammates.
“101.2,” Bucky reads, wincing at the bright numbers looking back at him.
“That’s a fever,” John provides. Yelena sighs, collapsing against the cushions and wiping a hand over her face.
“Feels like one too,” Yelena rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath. “I don’t know what it is, though,” she whines quietly, covering herself more with the blanket.
“It’s definitely more than a cold,” Bucky’s brow furrows, “do you feel nauseous or anything?”
“No, just the fever and the cold feeling, coughing and sneezing,” Yelena whispers snuggling deeper into the blankets.
“ACHOO!” they hear from down the hallway. The three of them look at each other and then in the direction of the sneeze. Footsteps pick up and draw closer, they hear a whir of something going in and out.
Ava appears in the walkway, slightly hunched over. Bob is at her side, a hand on her back but maintaining a distance away. She wipes her nose with the back of her sleeve.
The three teammates on the couch look at each other. John nods at Bucky, who picks up the thermometer and walks over to Ava.
“100.8, also a fever,” Bucky sighs, gently grabbing Ava’s bicep and leading her to the other side of the couch. John stands up to make room for Ava to lie down across from Yelena. The two women look at each other and share sympathetic looks.
“I’ve never been sick a day in my life,” Ava says, leaning back into the throw pillow John places under her head. “Well maybe when I was really little but nothing after or during the lab.” She coughs, Bob comes towards the couch with John, all three men sitting down on the coffee table.
Sickness didn’t mean death for something as small as a fever, but it still didn’t make Bucky feel good that the girls were suffering, even if they would get better soon.
“What caused this? Could it be a neurotoxin or something from the last mission?” Yelena questions, accompanied by a wet cough and the scrunching of her eyes. “Oh and add headache to the list of symptoms, Walker.”
“Me too,” Ava agrees, squinting at the too bright lights on the ceiling. Bob takes the hint and gets up to dim the lights.
Bucky looks around at his teammates, trying to gauge if anyone else has any lingering symptoms when he hears heavy footsteps coming from the kitchen.
Alexei saunters in, carrying their faces on a box of Wheaties, dropping a few pieces as he munches away. He seems unaware of the situation at hand until he spots her.
“‘Lena?” Alexei drops the box on the ground, Bob wincing at the mess he might want to clean up later. Alexei rushes to the couch, kneeling at his daughter's side.
“I’m fine, Dad, I’m just sick,” she coughs out, the men looking at each other with concern.
Bucky looks around at each one of his teammates. “If this is a neurotoxin, it wouldn’t only be affecting you two; this has gotta be something else.”
And then John’s eyes go wide. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He scrolls for a moment and then clicks it off, a guilty look spreading across his features.
“What is it?” Bob asks, rubbing circles into Yelena’s side as she shivers again. John shakes his head and pads his foot against the carpet.
“I went to see Olivia a few days ago, and my son had come down with something he must have picked up at daycare, so I only got to see him for a minute so it must have been enough.” He tells them, looking down at his hands.
“Okay but you’re not sick, it is something else,” Alexei wonders, moving to sit on the arm of the couch.
“No he might be onto something,” Bucky says, “if the kid had any kind of virus, it could’ve passed to John without producing any symptoms.” And then it clicks.
Realisation hits Yelena and she glares at John. “Oh fuck you guys,” she says, trying to sit up.
Bob gapes, confused by the sudden expletive. “What is it?”
Ava looks at Yelena and then back at John, seeing his guilty expression. Bucky nods in understanding.
“It’s because of the serum, isn’t it?” Bucky asks as John begins to nod.
“Ugh,” Ava makes a frustrating sound, “this is so unfair.”
“So because we don’t have your special little serum, we can get knocked down with a shitty little flu while nothing happens to you guys?” Yelena curses under her breath and moves to try to stand up. When she rises to her feet, blood rushes to her head and she falters slightly. Her legs begin to buckle and luckily Bob’s there to catch her before she falls over. They both fall into the couch cushions, and Yelena releases an exhausted huff.
INCOMING CALL: Valentina Allegra de Fontaine shines across the television screen and there’s a collective grown from all six of the New Avengers. Bucky reaches for the iPad on the other side of the coffee table. He clicks the answer button.
“Hello Valentina, what is it?” John says, almost yelling into the speaker. Bob smiles over at him as he continues to rub circles into Yelena’s back.
“I have a mission for the five of you. There’s a supposed Hydra cell still active out in central Poland, one of our ops teams found some information last night. You guys are flying out tonight.” Valentina rattles off the information as if it means nothing to her. She then swiftly ends the call.
“Well that was helpful,” Ava mutters, trying to sit up as well. John reaches out to steady her knee, she smiles a thank you.
“I want everyone to be ready to leave in the next three hours,” Yelena starts, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her palms. “Bucky, go to the armory and get me my 9mm and I think my Widow’s Bites need to be recharged.”
Yelena continues to list instructions and orders from her seated position on the couch as Ava moves her body to begin to get up and ready for the mission, as well. The men look at each other, confusion littering their faces. Yelena moves to stand up and get ready for the mission when Bucky and John stand to block her path. Though she is much shorter than them, she knows she could get past them both in a healthy state, not so much right now.
John nods at Bucky and the two men practically corner her, each placing a gentle hand on one of her arms.
“You’re staying put, both of you,” Bucky says, eyeing Ava’s escape attempts. Yelena rolls her eyes at his words. She takes a step forward but feels her knees begin to buckle and before she knows it she’s being lifted by two arms, one flesh, one metal. Bucky adjusts his grip on her as an ugly cough escapes her lips. John moves to lift Ava from the couch as well, she tries to m protest but allows him to carry her in his arms.
Bucky carries Yelena down the hallway towards her bedroom, opening the door with his boot. He lays her on the bed, helping her pull the covers over her body.
“I know this isn’t great or fair” Bucky says, Yelena rolling her eyes, “especially that it’s only affecting you and Ava.” Yelena flips him off before wiping her nose with her elbow.
“We’ll be back before you know it, Bob will be here too, you can pester him for some soup,” Bucky whispers, gloved fingers digging into the mattress.
“Good luck,” Yelena says, Bucky pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear and lightly kisses her forehead, remembering how he used to take care of his little sister when she was sick growing up.
Yelena’s eyes flutter close, and she rolls over to face away from him. He gets up and shuts off the lights and leaves the room. He meets John in the hallway, him having done a similar routine for Ava and the two men nod at each other, walking down the hallway to get Alexei and get ready for the mission.
Yelena has not been sick many times in her life, but she’s glad that now, whenever she isn’t at her best, there will be people there to help her through it, and put the pieces back together.