The mission had been over. You'd told him not to go into that room, that you two just needed to leave now and go back to the compound.

But James was never one for listening. He said he felt like the room needed to be checked, something in his gut.

So you waited while he walked in, leaned against the wall. All you wanted to do was wash the scent of smoke off yourself and sleep.

And you waited, until you heard a choked sound come from in the room. To which you immediately entered the room, your guard back up.

His hand was on the wall as he spit… pink colored saliva onto the concrete floor.

“….. Are you bleeding—?”

“No— that— the stupid plant fuckin’ sneezed at me or somethin’.” He grumbled, spitting again.

“God— c’mon. I told you, all we had to do was get back to the jet. But you went and got a fucking monstera plant to puke on you.” You scoffed, walking back out of the room and to the entrance of the building.

You could hear the sound of his boots following after you, and the sound of him spitting occasionally.

You stepped onto the quinjet, going to the panel at the front and setting the location to the compound.

It took 35 minutes of them being in the air for him to suddenly feel hot. Not like ‘wearing a sweater in summer’ hot, but a ‘I’m sitting in a hot tub in the humid summer sun’ hot.

And he didn’t feel much better by the time the jet landed.

You stepped out beside him, watching him as he tried to walk ahead.

“James. You’re sweating buckets.”

"I'm fine, just… just overheating a bit. That's all." He said, his voice gruff and rough. It sounded like even just talking was a chore.

"You're not fine. You've been spitting pink for 30 minutes, you're drenched in sweat, and you look red. That's not 'just overheating a bit'." You replied, putting a hand on his forehead.

He was burning up.

“I’m taking you to Bruce— do not argue.” You said, pointing at him as you dragged him to the lab.

The lab wasn't busy at all.

Bruce was at his desk, doing some work on some paperwork, until you entered. He looked up, seeing you with James by your side.

"He's sick, I think. We just got back from a mission, and while we were there he went and pissed off a plant." You told Bruce, and he sighed slightly as he got up, walking over.

Bruce nodded, before putting on some rubber gloves and pressing the back of his hand against James cheek.

"He's boiling." He mumbled under his breath, before putting his hand under the male's chin and lifting it up, studying his face.

As Bruce did that, James’ skin started to turn even more flushed, his breathing was more shallow, and he shifted in his spot as the area directly above his hips started to ache.

“…Barnes, what did the plant look like?”

James swallowed, his hands resting on the edge of Bruce's desk, and he seemed to be struggling to keep his focus.

"I-it had these… red, oval-like shaped leaves," he said after a few seconds of struggling with himself. "It was… ughh…"

Bruce's eyebrows twitched, as he took notice of James behavior.

"…And it was throwing off a pink pollen, right?"

James nodded, running his hand over his face as he stared at a wall.

Bruce sighed as he realized exactly what the plant was, and what his diagnosis was.

"Sex Pollen Plant, a rare sex-pollinating flower found in Southeast Asia. I should've seen this coming….. Barnes, is the— is the ache becoming worse?“

James nodded again, his hand shifting down to his hip and rubbing over it as if that would ease some sort of discomfort.

"It— ughhhggh… it feels awful," James groaned out as a small shudder ran through his body. "It's… god, it's so goddamn hot…"

“Uh, well, good news, it shouldn’t be fatal. You can either, uhm, find someone to take care of it with, or wait it out.” Bruce said, clearing his throat, looking between the two of you.

“I’m waiting it out.”

“James—“ You sighed, but he was already walking out of the lab, his steps quicker than usual.

You cursed to yourself quietly, following after him.