[MINGLE] Worried/Sick 1: Symptoms Manifest & Reaction

[sixthiteration]

WHERE: Anywhere; multiple locations
WHEN: Apx. 13-18 November
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
WARNINGS: Serious illness and reactions to such

IMPORTANT NOTES: This is the first of two mingles. Please see the timing and general event details here.

Illness Presents and Putting Heads Together will have their own top-levels in this post, but you may make separate top-levels for whatever you like! Anything is welcome, as long as it tangentially relates to the Worried/Sick plot.

Please keep in mind the established plot details, but creative license is welcome and encouraged as long as it doesn't step on toes.

Comments

[ex_enlisted288]

[ Peggy's voice is one of the few eternally stamped in his brain. He doesn't, in general, forget anyone he's interacted with, but she is special. Peg was the first person outside of his circle who saw him as a person. As a man. As .. not just an annoyance.

So he turns automatically towards that voice, reaching out to curl his fingers around her hand. The warmth of fever doesn't matter. Being close does. ]

Peg. Not 'sposed to be here, [ he murmurs. ] Phillips is gonna blow his top.

[womanofvalue]

[ Her eyes feel warm and she knows it's not tears this time, but it still feels like she's been crying. Perhaps it's just lingering grief that the fever is exploiting, making her feel like she's losing him all over again. ]

Darling, it's not the war.

[ She squeezes his hand, trying to settle her mind before it goes skipping away again. ]

Remember? We're in a village, with Bucky and Tony and the others.

[ex_enlisted288]

[ He focuses on that. It's not the war. There is no war, except for the one he's created himself. Steve squeezes his eyes shut against memories he doesn't want to deal with, his grip tightening fractionally while he deals with them anyway.

Easier not to open his eyes, though. Easier to concentrate on the sound of Peggy's voice. ]

I remember, [ somewhat, his tone threaded with uncertainty. ] Thought that might be a bad dream.

[womanofvalue]

[ Peggy has no idea how bad it will get or what they're experiencing in the future, but from what she's seeing, she can tell that it's far from pleasant. She moves closer, tugging a blanket from the nearest bed to wrap around her shoulders.

She's feverish and too warm, but someone would have to drag her away from Steve to get her to move. ]

If you want, it can be. We can make it all a bad dream. Focus on here, on now. It doesn't have to exist.

[ For now, at least. When the fever clears and reality creeps in, that dream will return, unfortunately. ]

[ex_enlisted288]

We can pretend, [ he says after a minute, slow and deliberate and obviously trying not to slur his words. Everything is hot and his tongue feels like a lump in his mouth. Like he's trying to talk around a potato. ] for a little while.

[ Steve is quiet for a few minutes after that, his head hurts too much for much conversation, and listens to the people around him. Little pools of conversation that fade in and out of sync. He listens to the sound of Peggy's breathing. Even serum-less, his hearing is still close to the peak of human perfection. Which, right now, is more of a stumbling block than a boon. Everything feels like its just over the 'too much' line. ]

You said not the war?

[womanofvalue]

[ She shakes her head and curls up in the blanket until very little but her face is showing out of it, the chills of the fever hitting her as badly as they ever have. She knows that she's ill, that it's just the fever, but it feels worse than anything she's fought before, like a bitter pill swallowing her up from the inside. ]

Somehow, as though we're in the past, but not the war. It's the village. How do you feel?

[ This, of all things, doesn't make sense. How can it happen to Steve? Or perhaps it's just evidence that the serum is gone, even if the physical impact stays. ]

[ex_enlisted288]

[ He meant the pretending part, but this works just as well. And once Steve realizes that Peg is having a spell, he sits halfway up and braces against an elbow just long enough to shrug off one of his blankets and slide it on top of the one she already has. ]

I feel like absolute ... really bad. Pretty sure everyone in here does, too. [ His mouth turns up into half a smile. ] How are you doing?

[womanofvalue]

You can curse in front of me, you know, I heard far worse during the war.

[ It's an absent admonition, one that doesn't have much heat to it seeing as she's too tired to be too cross. Instead, she leans into the blanket and gives Steve a weary smile. ]

Sick, and worried sick that you're ill and Tony is. I'd much rather be out there trying to find some sort of solution instead of stuck here, barely able to recall where I am unless I strain for it.

[ex_enlisted288]

[ He snorts, tiredly, and reaches out to adjust the blanket again. It gives him a decent distraction. ]

I know, but we aren't in a war, Peg. I'm trying to be respectful here.

[ And that is a complete lack of surprise in regards to her feelings on the whole matter of being sick. Absolutely no shock there. ]

We're all in the same boat, at least. Misery loves company.

[womanofvalue]

You're a good man, Steve. Better than I am.

[ And isn't that what her life had been about in New York, but also Los Angeles? She'd put Steve on a pedestal and then dared herself to try and jump onto it as best as she could. Unfortunately, she kept falling short. ]

Well, if that's the case, I'll take a small dash of misery for your company. Better here than alone, I'd be intolerable like that, complaining all the while.

[ex_enlisted288]

One, that's not true. You're not a man. [ He fully expects to get smacked for that one. ] And two, you're a far better person than I will ever be.

That said, I'm glad you're here being miserable with me. Even if you decide to complain.

[womanofvalue]

[ She knows that's not true and she doesn't want to give him examples of why he's wrong. She's selfish, that way, which is one more reason she knows she'll never reach that stance on the pedestal that Steve holds. She shifts, tugging at the blankets when a shiver overwhelms her, and she knows she's far closer than she's let herself get.

It's too risky, he might simply vanish again.

And yet, she wants to be nowhere else at all. ]How could I complain about something I want?