Closed RP with [Punched-Hitler]
Jun. 3rd, 2014 04:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
He woke up slowly. It was an unusual feeling, to wake to nothing more than his body's own sleep cycle, instead of being woken up by harsh hands and pain. He honestly hadn't been expecting to wake up, sure that he was dead, sure that the bullet they had put in his chest should have killed him.
Instead, Bucky Barnes woke up in a hospital bed, oxygen line hooked over his ears, the steady beeping and whirring of machinery all around him. Everything hurt - his broken ankle, the bruises on his legs from beatings, the lash marks over his back. It is nearly torture to breathe, his chest wrapped tightly in bandages. This wasn't the dark, dank cellar he had spent (as close as he could figure ) six or seven months in. He looked around, head tilting from side to side listlessly, looking for family or a nurse or something.
His attention was caught by his left arm - or, rather, what was left of it, which wasn't much.
Days into his capture they'd started cutting off his fingers, one at a time, and sending him to his mother - to the President - in an attempt to get her to give in to their demands.
Then they'd started working their way up his arm, more as punishment than anything, before infection had set in and they had kept cutting back and back and back in an attempt to keep their bargaining chip from dying.
The stump of his left arm was wrapped in neat cotton bandages and Bucky swallowed hard, lifting his other hand to his lips, feeling them quiver against his fingers.
He finally asked, voice trembling, "Mom?"
She had to be here. She had been there for him his entire life growing up, there every time he got sick, even when she was on the election trail. If she couldn't get to him, they would talk over the internet for as long as it took until he fell asleep.
Bucky looked around, digging his ragged nails into his lower lip. "Mom?" He shifted, trying to sit up, and was instantly caught by the mess of wires and tubing around him. He laid back, blinking back tears.
She came almost at a run, heels clacking, the door swinging shut behind her. "Bucky!" She nearly collapsed onto Bucky's bed, grabbing his hand in both of her own. "You're awake, thank god." She reached forward and ran her fingers through his hair and he was suddenly aware that it was long enough to touch his chin.
He smiled up at her, feeling the knot in his chest ease. Bucky sagged back against his pillows and sighed slightly, letting her rub her thumb over the back of his hand. "I missed you, Mom."
"I missed you, too. Here, are you comfortable? Do you need another pillow?" She let go of his hand and started to fuss with his blankets and pillows, adjusting them around him nervously.
"I'm fine. Tired, but fine." He closed his eyes for a long moment then asked, opening them again, "I'm really here, right?"
She nodded. "You're really here, Bucky." She folded her hand over his. "Get some rest, I'll be right here, okay?" She smiled and watched Bucky drift off again, body falling limp. But it wasn't the same sort of boneless as before, the unconsciousness after being brought in, after all the surgeries. It was the unconsciousness of somebody asleep of their own volition.
She looked up once she was sure Bucky was asleep and stood back up, placing his hand on his stomach. President Barnes crossed back over to the door and pulled it open. "I'm sorry, Captain. Maybe you should come in and we can continue our discussion?" She stepped back.
Bucky drifted awake for just a moment, long enough to see his mother across the room talking to somebody that looked vaguely familiar. Before Bucky could place the face, he was asleep again.
Instead, Bucky Barnes woke up in a hospital bed, oxygen line hooked over his ears, the steady beeping and whirring of machinery all around him. Everything hurt - his broken ankle, the bruises on his legs from beatings, the lash marks over his back. It is nearly torture to breathe, his chest wrapped tightly in bandages. This wasn't the dark, dank cellar he had spent (as close as he could figure ) six or seven months in. He looked around, head tilting from side to side listlessly, looking for family or a nurse or something.
His attention was caught by his left arm - or, rather, what was left of it, which wasn't much.
Days into his capture they'd started cutting off his fingers, one at a time, and sending him to his mother - to the President - in an attempt to get her to give in to their demands.
Then they'd started working their way up his arm, more as punishment than anything, before infection had set in and they had kept cutting back and back and back in an attempt to keep their bargaining chip from dying.
The stump of his left arm was wrapped in neat cotton bandages and Bucky swallowed hard, lifting his other hand to his lips, feeling them quiver against his fingers.
He finally asked, voice trembling, "Mom?"
She had to be here. She had been there for him his entire life growing up, there every time he got sick, even when she was on the election trail. If she couldn't get to him, they would talk over the internet for as long as it took until he fell asleep.
Bucky looked around, digging his ragged nails into his lower lip. "Mom?" He shifted, trying to sit up, and was instantly caught by the mess of wires and tubing around him. He laid back, blinking back tears.
She came almost at a run, heels clacking, the door swinging shut behind her. "Bucky!" She nearly collapsed onto Bucky's bed, grabbing his hand in both of her own. "You're awake, thank god." She reached forward and ran her fingers through his hair and he was suddenly aware that it was long enough to touch his chin.
He smiled up at her, feeling the knot in his chest ease. Bucky sagged back against his pillows and sighed slightly, letting her rub her thumb over the back of his hand. "I missed you, Mom."
"I missed you, too. Here, are you comfortable? Do you need another pillow?" She let go of his hand and started to fuss with his blankets and pillows, adjusting them around him nervously.
"I'm fine. Tired, but fine." He closed his eyes for a long moment then asked, opening them again, "I'm really here, right?"
She nodded. "You're really here, Bucky." She folded her hand over his. "Get some rest, I'll be right here, okay?" She smiled and watched Bucky drift off again, body falling limp. But it wasn't the same sort of boneless as before, the unconsciousness after being brought in, after all the surgeries. It was the unconsciousness of somebody asleep of their own volition.
She looked up once she was sure Bucky was asleep and stood back up, placing his hand on his stomach. President Barnes crossed back over to the door and pulled it open. "I'm sorry, Captain. Maybe you should come in and we can continue our discussion?" She stepped back.
Bucky drifted awake for just a moment, long enough to see his mother across the room talking to somebody that looked vaguely familiar. Before Bucky could place the face, he was asleep again.
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Date: 2014-06-06 04:09 am (UTC)-
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.
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Date: 2014-06-06 04:27 am (UTC)He and the president had been banished from the room with as much force as Bucky could muster, and the two of them went - although Steve stayed right by the door with one ear practically to it, ready to move on a moment's notice if something came up. He wasn't letting his guard down for anything. So he heard Bucky the instant he called, pushing open the door to stick his head through - and trying not to smile.
He slipped inside, letting the door click shut behind him and made his way over to the bed. "You'd think by now they'd manage to find a way to do this without a million wires and tubes," he murmured, trying to make Bucky smile, figuring they'd take care of the pants first. "Okay, let me help." He detangled the lines, carefully, then glanced at Bucky's face and put his hands on the waistband of the pants - on the outside of Bucky's thighs, near his hips. There was no way in hell he was going to put his hands anywhere near where those cuts were - mostly because he couldn't imagine Bucky wanted to be touched there. "Okay?" he asked quietly; if he got an affirmative, he'd start working the pants up over Bucky's hips carefully.
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Date: 2014-06-06 04:38 am (UTC)The sweatpants slid on easily and Bucky relaxed back down before pushing himself upright. "Shirt. Will you tie my hair back for me, too?" He pulled off his oxygen line - the only one he still had and it was of course long enough to wrap around his body multiple times.
His breathing instantly went shallow, then purposefully deep - the damage to his lung had been severe and wasn't healed enough yet for him to stop using the oxygen, but he had to get dressed somehow - as he tried to draw in breath enough to keep from going light-headed. He held his right arm out in front of him.
Clothes, real clothes, for the first time in months. Not just hospital gowns or rags or nothing.
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Date: 2014-06-06 07:11 pm (UTC)Steve nodded at the other requests, smiling. "You got it, boss," he said genially, though he paused when Bucky went right ahead and pulled the oxygen line off his face. Steve tensed, ready to move if Bucky wasn't doing okay with the help breathing, but he didn't fall over, and so Steve just resolved to work as quickly as possible so they could get the thing back in place. He was sure it was a pain, but breathing was also a good thing.
He moved to pull the shirt on quickly but carefully, hands moving gently over Bucky's left shoulder and what was left of his arm as he tugged the bottom down to meet the waistband of the sweatpants. Then, before Bucky could protest, he'd put the oxygen line back in place - he wasn't going to take any arguments - and glanced around, grabbing the hair tie the nurse had brought in and pulling Bucky's hair back into a neat little ponytail at the back of his head - at least, as neat as he could make it. Steve had always had short hair, but at least creating a ponytail wasn't overly challenging.
"Feel better?" He asked, coming back around to Bucky's front.
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Date: 2014-06-06 07:27 pm (UTC)He pulled his left leg up with a wince for his thighs and ankle and started to wrestle on a sock. He was glad for the boat shoes his mother had brought, not wanting to figure out how to tie laces with only one hand.
Bucky managed both sock and shoe and looked up, fingering the cuff of his jacket.
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Date: 2014-06-06 08:12 pm (UTC)"Nah, not like a wreck. Just a little banged-up. But you look a hell of a lot better than you did two weeks ago, and that's a promise." Sure, he needed more rest, more time to heal, and definitely a few square meals. But he was doing well, recovering as quickly as his body would let him, and he'd come a long way. "Are you gonna cut your hair?" He was just curious... it wasn't a terrible look, though clearly it had grown out from a cut that hadn't been meant to grow out.
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Date: 2014-06-06 08:32 pm (UTC)As if on cue, President Barnes stepped in. "Ready to go?" The nurse that followed her in - the one that had mostly been taking care of Bucky - bringing his food, changing his bandages - was pushing a wheelchair.
Bucky nodded. "Yeah, I am." He wanted to walk to the chair on his own, sliding to the edge of the bed and reaching up for support from Steve. He had been walking few steps around the room and even made a trek up and down the hall with support, but every time he put his left foot down pain shot through his leg. He was used to pain so he could mostly ignore it, but it did start to get to be too much after too long, and combined with his lungs still not recovered from being shot, he was limited to how far he could go at a time.
He wanted nothing more than to walk out of the hospital under his own steam, but he wanted to go home more, and sleep in his own bed and not wake up in the middle of the night because somebody else in the ward was crashing.
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Date: 2014-06-07 05:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-07 05:31 am (UTC)He let himself be pushed out of the room and down the hall. There was security all around him, his mother at his side, but Bucky didn't feel safe in the open air of the main hospital.
The outside beyond the lobby wasn't packed with journalists, but the ones brave enough to not be shooed away by federal agents or the hospital security were hanging around, ready with microphones and cameras.
President Barnes sighed. "Let me go see if I can't get them to go away."
"Don't. Everybody wants to make sure I'm actually alive, it's fine." Bucky swallowed hard, though, at just the thought of going out there. He touched his oxygen line.
He looked up at Steve then fisted his hand in his pants. He trusted Steve to keep him safe. "Let's go."
As soon as they were outside, though, even with security keeping back the press, Bucky suddenly couldn't breathe. He fixed a smile on his face and tried to wave to the cameras, but it was hard, almost impossible.
He was only too glad, when they reached the armored car, that one of his other guards basically threw him into the back, never mind that the man had grabbed him by the hips tightly, in a way that only brought up memories Bucky was working hard to forget.
Panting, Bucky waited until the door was closed to collapse against the seat, breathing hard. He was having trouble getting oxygen in even with the line, his chest an anxious knot of panic. He clinged to his mother, glad all over again for the tinted, reflective windows, resting his head on her chest.
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Date: 2014-06-07 06:17 am (UTC)That part was a success, at least, but by the time they were in the car, with Steve sliding in onto Bucky's other side so he was sandwiched safely between his mother and the super soldier, he could tell it had take a lot out of Bucky to go through that. Mentally, he suspected, more than physically. "Hey, you did great," he said quietly, putting a protective hand carefully on Bucky's back, but mostly letting him sit close to his mother. "But maybe we should save the press conferences for a few weeks down the line, what do you say?"
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Date: 2014-06-07 06:25 am (UTC)Jennifer Barnes said, quietly, "Let's get home, please." Bucky was quickly sliding into a panic attack and with the state his lungs and limbs were in, that would not be fun for anybody.
The car started to move, the cavalcade of cars all around. Bucky finally lifted his head to watch DC go by, breaking starting to even out as they got further from the hospital.
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Date: 2014-06-07 07:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-07 08:51 pm (UTC)The relief when they were off the street and on White House grounds was almost palpable from both Bucky and his mother. The cars pulled up and Bucky followed his mother out, sliding to the edge of the seat.
He waved off all those who tried to help him into the wheelchair, though, and lowered himself in and promptly waved away the guards. "I can push myself, thanks." He was tired and stressed, and he wanted to get back to his own bed and lay down.
Maneuvering his wheelchair with only one hand was awkward, but he managed just fine.
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Date: 2014-06-07 11:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-07 11:56 pm (UTC)She turned to Steve. "We turned the room next to his into a bedroom for you, and also a cot in his room so at least you don't have to sleep on the floor or in a chair, if you want to stay in the room. I drew up a list of the agents I trust, if you wanted to put together a team of your own. I'll have my assistant bring it to you as soon as I can." She stepped back, touched Bucky's shoulder again, then turned to go.
Bucky looked up at Steve. "I don't know about you, but it's naptime for me." He licked his lips then glanced around nervously, the picture of a trauma survivor.
Even here, where he was no doubt safer than anywhere else, he felt penned in and trapped. His fingers tapped against the wheel of his chair and he watched his mother go both in relief and trepidation. He was quickly headed back to a panic attack.
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Date: 2014-06-08 09:47 pm (UTC)He glanced at Bucky when he spoke - Steve knew that look, and he nodded, wanting to get Bucky into a smaller, more private place, and soon. "Want a hand, or have you got it? You'll have to direct me." He would let Bucky get there under his own power if he wanted to - it might distract him from the panic Steve could see trying to break through - but there was also nothing wrong with asking for help. "If you want some time alone... I just need to check the room out, and I can give it to you."
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Date: 2014-06-08 10:11 pm (UTC)He stopped outside his bedroom door and said, quietly, "I don't want to be alone..." He looked up at Steve then brought his hand up to his neck, rubbing the back slightly. "I don't want to be trapped in a nightmare..."
He turned to look at the little crowd and said, trying to just sound tired and not panicked, "Can you guys leave, or something? You're worried, I get it, but I'm a big boy." He glared but none of them moved.
Bucky turned back to look into his room. It was so familiar - nothing had changed, except it had been picked up and organized.
He wondered, distantly, if they'd found his weed. If not, he really needed some to calm down, no matter what the doctors said about his medication.
Tapping his fingers on his leg he waited for Steve to clear the room before he could go in.
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Date: 2014-06-09 03:14 am (UTC)When they got to the bedroom and Bucky paused, Steve nodded. "Then I'm staying," he agreed, glancing at the team of agents that had shadowed them the entire way here. He gave them a sympathetic - but commanding - look, and advised, "Why don't you fellas just sit tight out here? I've got the interior covered."
He outranked them, as far as he knew, and it wasthe truth. Much though he didn't like it, he would sacrifice Bucky's comfort for his safety, if it was necessary. But in this case, it wouldn't be. He really could cover the interior of the room.
The agents looked... less than pleased, but they glanced at each other before nodding, taking up positions on the outside of the door, on either side. Now Steve gave Bucky a sympathetic smile - no, it wasn't getting them to leave, but that would have been a bad idea. This would have to do.
He slipped past Bucky and into the room, doing a quick visual sweep before he'd let him in. But nothing seemed out of place, so he waved Bucky in - and would move to shut the door after him.
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Date: 2014-06-09 03:31 am (UTC)He flopped back in bed and fussed with the bandage on the stump of his left arm.
As tired as he was, though, he wasn't able to sleep. Compared to the hospital bed, this was like sleeping in a marshmallow. Compared to a hard concrete floor, it was like he was sinking, smothered in softness.
Bucky sat up after a few minutes of laying down. "It's too soft." He carefully stood, putting most of his weight on his casted foot, and proceeded to pull his blankets and pillows onto the floor before laying down. He was laying on a soft plush rug so it wasn't just bare hardwood, but it didn't make him feel like he was about to suffocate.
Rolling onto his right side, his oxygen tank tucked against his stomach, Bucky managed to fall asleep right there in minutes, curled up on the floor at the foot of his bed.
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Date: 2014-06-09 04:25 am (UTC)Still, he managed to keep his expression neutral as he watched Bucky maneuver into the bed. He was just about to take a seat in the chair when Bucky sat up again, startling Steve a little. But - oh, yeah, he could relate. He still had a hard time, sleeping on a bed, even after a couple of years of living in relative luxury. He had been about to offer Bucky the cot - but actually, by the time he managed to open his mouth, Bucky had made himself a nice little nest on the floor and all but passed out.
Steve couldn't help but smile, just a little - yeah, it was sort of a familiar sight, although he did realize that it meant Bucky had been through so much... it would take a lot of time to undo. Maybe some of it couldn't be undone. The arm definitely couldn't. But hopefully Bucky would stop feeling so wrong, being back home, being around people. Even if it took time... Steve was sure he'd pull through, in that respect.
Once he was sure Bucky was asleep, he moved, going to check on the sleeping form, pulling the blanket up a little, making sure the oxygen line was secure and wasn't going to tangle. He eyed the cot, but he was a little worried that if he laid down on it... he'd be out, in a heavy sleep sense, and he didn't want that. So instead, he moved to sit on the floor next to Bucky, his back to the bed, body in a ready position, and let himself doze.
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Date: 2014-06-09 04:49 am (UTC)He slept deeply for a few hours, just until he hit the deepest part of his sleep cycle and was soon twitching in his sleep, curling into a tighter ball, fingers clenching in the blanket.
Bucky groaned and whispered, "No, please... Not..." He jerked and let out a pained moan, back arching.
He hadn't had nightmares in the hospital, at least not to the point that he was talking aloud, until after they had switched him from the morphine drip to codine for the lingering pain in both ankles and his stump.
Bucky whimpered, tucking even tighter, right arm going around his head in a position that was intensely defensive.
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Date: 2014-06-09 04:49 pm (UTC)At the first sounds of distress, Steve jerked awake, looking around, hands coming up into a defensive posture. But then he realized the sounds weren't because of an attack - they were because of a nightmare. He frowned; Bucky had had nightmares before, but they hadn't been quite this bad. He moved, turning his body toward Bucky's, and risked putting a hand - just the flat of his palm - carefully on his back. He didn't want to shake or grab him, that would just make things worse.
"Bucky," he said softly, just letting the heat and weight from his palm seep through the blankets. "Bucky, wake up." If he had to do more to wake him up, he would, but Steve was hoping Bucky wasn't so deeply lost in that dream that it would take a lot more. That might scare him, whether Steve meant to or not.
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Date: 2014-06-09 05:08 pm (UTC)He let out a moan of fear and continued to huddle in on himself. Then Steve spoke.
His eyes fluttered open and though he didn't relax, he did look around, right arm uncurling. He had tangled his oxygen line around his arm. "Steve?" He lifted his head and looked around, disoriented for a moment. Then he remembered he was asleep on the floor in his bedroom, Steve's hand on his back.
Bucky rubbed his hand against his face, involuntary tears welling up. He sniffled and sat up, turning his face from Steve for a moment, embarrassed, as he swiped the tears off his cheeks. "Thanks, Steve."
He scooted in closer to Steve, dragging his blankets with him, and curled against his side, toes worming under Steve's thigh for warmth.
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Date: 2014-06-09 05:41 pm (UTC)He let Bucky have a moment for himself - though when Bucky scooted in closer, he looked a little surprised (but not unhappy). Well, if serving as a bed was part of serving as a bodyguard... it wasn't so bad. He did take the opportunity to disentangle the oxygen line carefully, whether or not Bucky was actually paying attention. "Don't mention it," he said, and he meant it, trying to pull Bucky's blankets up around him again, if he was cold. Since the serum, Steve had always run pretty hot - he was basically a personal furnace, though not a lot of people had had the chance to find that out. Bucky probably was, though, right about now. The uniform could actually be adjusted to hide his heat signature, if he needed stealth, but that wasn't the case right now.
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Date: 2014-06-09 05:57 pm (UTC)He slid his arm around Steve, grabbing a handful of shirt.
Bucky was soon drifting back off to sleep even though he didn't mean to. He rarely got back to sleep after a nightmare, but Steve was warm and he was stressed, so it was easy enough.
[Wanna skip til maybe Bucky is up and about? I kind of want to get him a dog, much against his mother's wishes]
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From:hoooooly crap I didn't realize I'd left this for a week I'm sorry ;;
From:it's alright, i'm procrastinating on our other thread so...
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