The nurse paused to look at Steve then said, "If Mr. Barnes doesn't mind." She looked to him, pulling on a pair of gloves.
Bucky shook his head after a moment. "No, it's fine."
She smiled. "Pull on some gloves then, Captain."
She started with Bucky's ankle, checking the deep cut just above his achilles tendon and making sure the stitches were still in place before re-wrapping his foot.
Bucky closed his eyes. The feeling of hands on him was foreign and unwelcome, as well as a relief. There was no pain, just a soft, slightly rubbery touch of gloves on skin.
He pulled nervously at the hem of his gown as the nurse pushed it up gently to check his thighs. He swallowed and tipped his head back, eyes closing. Her hands were cool and small and professional, but the cuts along the insides of his thighs were deep and had been left by...
He swallowed again, knuckles going white where they were knotted in the thin fabric.
The nurse looked up and saw the obvious fear and distress on Bucky's face. She said, gently, "Let me know if it hurts, okay?"
He nodded, and let her push his legs further apart, dabbing antiseptic on the scratches, touch light but purposeful. He flinched every few moments but didn't protest. Bucky was glad his mother wasn't in here. No doubt she had a list of all of his injuries and these were included, but she would cry and he would cry and live it all over again.
She cleaned both of his legs then asked, "Is it okay if Captain Rogers supports your lower back while I wrap your legs back up?"
Bucky nodded after a few moments, wishing desperately he had two hands - one to hold to the hem of his hospital gown and one to press the handkerchief to his face, to disguise his tears and expression.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2014-06-05 12:13 am (UTC)Bucky shook his head after a moment. "No, it's fine."
She smiled. "Pull on some gloves then, Captain."
She started with Bucky's ankle, checking the deep cut just above his achilles tendon and making sure the stitches were still in place before re-wrapping his foot.
Bucky closed his eyes. The feeling of hands on him was foreign and unwelcome, as well as a relief. There was no pain, just a soft, slightly rubbery touch of gloves on skin.
He pulled nervously at the hem of his gown as the nurse pushed it up gently to check his thighs. He swallowed and tipped his head back, eyes closing. Her hands were cool and small and professional, but the cuts along the insides of his thighs were deep and had been left by...
He swallowed again, knuckles going white where they were knotted in the thin fabric.
The nurse looked up and saw the obvious fear and distress on Bucky's face. She said, gently, "Let me know if it hurts, okay?"
He nodded, and let her push his legs further apart, dabbing antiseptic on the scratches, touch light but purposeful. He flinched every few moments but didn't protest. Bucky was glad his mother wasn't in here. No doubt she had a list of all of his injuries and these were included, but she would cry and he would cry and live it all over again.
She cleaned both of his legs then asked, "Is it okay if Captain Rogers supports your lower back while I wrap your legs back up?"
Bucky nodded after a few moments, wishing desperately he had two hands - one to hold to the hem of his hospital gown and one to press the handkerchief to his face, to disguise his tears and expression.