Bucky nodded. He sighed and asked, "Can I have another blanket?" He blinked tiredly and kept ahold of the handkerchief, reluctant to let it go, even to give it back to Steve.
Just then, though, there was a light tapping on the door. One of the agents came in first, a nurse behind him. "Captain Rogers..."
The nurse stepped forward pushing a cart with her, "It's time to change Mr. Barnes's bandages."
Bucky groaned and sagged back. He looked over at Steve. "Guess I don't get to sleep..."
The nurse started pulling back the sheets, her hands quick and professional as she folded them back. Bucky was in a hospital gown and not much else, right ankle in a cast and left wrapped in a tight bandage. there were more bandages around his thighs, and a big mess of gauze around his chest, no doubt where he had been shot at. There were also the deep lacerations on his back from repeated whippings.
On one hand, he cared almost nothing about strangers looking at his body - he hadn't had privacy at all for eight months - but at the same time, he still didn't want people looking at him like this. He turned his face away from all the damage.
Bucky had had daydreams for years and years about Captain America, and now the man himself was going to see Bucky shredded to pieces by knifes and scalpels. Any chance Bucky might ever have would be gone in just a few more short moments.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2014-06-04 11:26 pm (UTC)Just then, though, there was a light tapping on the door. One of the agents came in first, a nurse behind him. "Captain Rogers..."
The nurse stepped forward pushing a cart with her, "It's time to change Mr. Barnes's bandages."
Bucky groaned and sagged back. He looked over at Steve. "Guess I don't get to sleep..."
The nurse started pulling back the sheets, her hands quick and professional as she folded them back. Bucky was in a hospital gown and not much else, right ankle in a cast and left wrapped in a tight bandage. there were more bandages around his thighs, and a big mess of gauze around his chest, no doubt where he had been shot at. There were also the deep lacerations on his back from repeated whippings.
On one hand, he cared almost nothing about strangers looking at his body - he hadn't had privacy at all for eight months - but at the same time, he still didn't want people looking at him like this. He turned his face away from all the damage.
Bucky had had daydreams for years and years about Captain America, and now the man himself was going to see Bucky shredded to pieces by knifes and scalpels. Any chance Bucky might ever have would be gone in just a few more short moments.