Bucky stopped breathing as Steve touched him, hands on him. He closed his eyes and stayed stiff, but relaxed when Steve let him settle back. He took a deep breath and then another, then finally opened his eyes. He reached up to adjust his oxygen line - it was tugging uncomfortably - but everything else settled properly.
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Two weeks later Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed, awkwardly trying to work his sweatpants on on his own. He had managed his boxers, but between his broken ankle, the wrap still on his other ankle, and his weak right arm, it was hard. He had banished the nurses and Steve and his mother from the room, wanting to get dressed by himself. He was still wearing the oxygen line and it was tangled around his body unhelpfully.
Finally he laid back and called, "Steve?" He had gotten the sweats up to his thighs but couldn't get them up any higher. "Steve, I'm stuck." He was also shirtless, and his hair was a tangled mess from his struggling.
no subject
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Two weeks later Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed, awkwardly trying to work his sweatpants on on his own. He had managed his boxers, but between his broken ankle, the wrap still on his other ankle, and his weak right arm, it was hard. He had banished the nurses and Steve and his mother from the room, wanting to get dressed by himself. He was still wearing the oxygen line and it was tangled around his body unhelpfully.
Finally he laid back and called, "Steve?" He had gotten the sweats up to his thighs but couldn't get them up any higher. "Steve, I'm stuck." He was also shirtless, and his hair was a tangled mess from his struggling.