make_it_hurt: (Default)
[personal profile] make_it_hurt
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.

Date: 2014-06-11 12:51 am (UTC)
punched_hitler: (just a little scuffed up)
From: [personal profile] punched_hitler
Steve frowned, glancing at Bucky briefly before looking back to the road. "Maybe they're not sure how to talk to you, after what you've been through. They might be trying to give you distance, not push you away." Of course, he didn't know for sure, and he didn't know anything about Bucky's friends, either. But was it really fair to write all of them off, just like that? "It might be worth being the person who reaches out first." Not that he'd push, but he'd just suggest it. That was all.

"Well, maybe retaking that year will give you a chance to figure things out," Steve suggested, trying to smile a bit. "No one expects you to have a plan overnight. And if they're smart, no one will expect the plan you have to still apply now." Because things like this could change a person, and that was just the way it worked.

He was, though, starting to suspect that Bucky wanted to actually get a dog. "Uh-huh," he said, not sounding convinced, as they turned onto the street where the shelter was. "Okay. We're just going to look."

Date: 2014-06-11 05:52 pm (UTC)
punched_hitler: [ce] (doin' pretty okay)
From: [personal profile] punched_hitler
Steve was one of those guys that had a Facebook page, but wasn't attached to it. Though when he did actually log onto a computer, he'd certainly return the friend request. Honestly, if he was ever bored, Bucky might be able to help Steve keep track of all these online accounts, because sometimes they felt overwhelming. Even after a year or two out of the ice, it was still hard to process being able to reach essentially anyone, from anywhere, at any time.

"Okay," Steve said knowingly, making sure the car was parked and locked up. He was glad he wasn't in uniform - okay, sure, the uniform was good for publicity, but it was also pretty obvious. He wanted people looking at Bucky - for the right reasons - and not at Steve, if Bucky was going to pull what he thought he was going to pull. He jogged the few steps up to the door, and pulled open the door. "Have at, boss."

Date: 2014-06-11 08:59 pm (UTC)
punched_hitler: (couldn't call my ride)
From: [personal profile] punched_hitler
Bucky seemed to head into that place with a goal in mind; Steve couldn't help but smile, greeting the staff members at the desk with a wave and following Bucky through the door to the kennels.

He, too, glanced through the dogs and their biographies, squatting down to give a couple of them some scratches behind the ears as they pressed their noses to the bars, clearly seeking attention. "Oh, one or two of these fellas look like good candidates. It depends on how large a dog you're planning to - ah, take for a walk," he teased, because it was so very clear by now that Bucky planned on taking one of these dogs for a walk, all the way back to the White House. "We should probably find someone who's not likely to cause too much trouble."

Date: 2014-06-12 05:10 am (UTC)
punched_hitler: [tfa] (remember the cyclone?)
From: [personal profile] punched_hitler
When Bucky paused, Steve already suspected he'd found something - someone - he liked. So when he exclaimed a moment later, Steve gave the dog he was petting one last scratch behind the ears and shuffled over to where Buck was petting...

Either a large dog, or a small buffalo. "Holy cow, Bucky," he laughed a little squatting down to read the sign. "I think your mom might kill you." But he didn't sound discouraging. Just... all the more bemused. "I think she'd walk you, not the other way around."

Date: 2014-06-12 04:18 pm (UTC)
punched_hitler: [tfa] (the triumphant hero returns)
From: [personal profile] punched_hitler
"Okay, point," Steve had to observe. If Bucky were walking down the street with that monster (who was acting like Bucky was her new best friend, already), it might just give someone pause, all fluff or not.

And practically before he knew what was happening, Bucky was already sprinting toward one of the staff members, saying he wanted to adopt the dog. Steve couldn't help but grin, a little - Bucky looked happier than he had since Steve had met him, and he was going to use that to his advantage to keep the president from court marshaling him, when they got back. Because he had a feeling he'dbe the one in trouble. But somehow, it seemed pretty worth it, just at the moment. He'd never been happier, even at the idea of being "replaced" (though he was sure the president wasn't going to dismiss him just because Bucky had brought home a monster of a dog).

He followed at a more sedate pace when Bucky called for him, sticking his hands in his pockets and unable to keep from smiling, still. "You're gonna need a name. And a leash. I hope there's room in your backseat for her. She can't sit on your lap, pal."

Date: 2014-06-12 08:04 pm (UTC)
punched_hitler: [ta] (confident side grin)
From: [personal profile] punched_hitler
"You do that," Steve said, coming over to sit down beside Bucky, in case he needed help balancing the clipboard, though he seemed to be doing just fine on his own.

"Okay. Adoption first, name later," Steve agreed. "And a stop at the pet store on the way back gives me time to come up with a convincing speech for your mom, before she boxes my ears over this and not yours. I'm supposed to be in charge, you know."

He smiled and tilted his head - it was clear he didn't mind what Bucky was doing at all.

Date: 2014-06-13 04:15 am (UTC)
punched_hitler: [tfa] (best friends returning from battle)
From: [personal profile] punched_hitler
Steve reached out, knuckling Bucky's right shoulder gently. "I'm kidding. It's fine. We're probably both going to get in trouble for this, but... I think it's worth it." His genuine smile should tell Bucky that. Maybe he wasn't being very professional, but... he'd like to think that over the course of the past few weeks, they'd sort of become friends. To say they were acquaintances just didn't seem to cover it. Definitely not with the way he was pleased to see Bucky so utterly happy.

And that dog - Rose, apparently - was just as happy. Her tail was seriously in danger of knocking someone over, and the staff member that handed over the leash quickly got out of the way of the flailing appendage. Steve nodded, pulling out the keys, then reaching over to scratch the puppy behind the ears, if she'd let him. "Next stop, pet store?"

Date: 2014-06-15 12:17 am (UTC)
punched_hitler: [ta] (is that so?)
From: [personal profile] punched_hitler
[WHOOPS shows what I know about dogs. /o\ NOTED FOR FUTURE REFERENCE o7]

Steve just moved slow, trying to show the puppy that he didn't mean her any harm. Hopefully, given that he was supposed to be sticking to Bucky like glue she'd at least tolerate him, if not like him.

He followed the two out the door of the shelter, smiling to himself at the sight. They waited while the dog made a thorough check of the car (smart dog) before the excitement began.

Steve figured he'd wait until everybody was settled - and likely to stay here - before he thought about starting the car. "I'll say. Well, obedience lessons'll give you both something to do," he grinned. "Although if you think she's gonna be persistent, you can sit in the back on the way to the pet store."

Date: 2014-06-15 03:18 am (UTC)
punched_hitler: [tws] (unstrap the helmet)
From: [personal profile] punched_hitler
Steve did wait another few minutes, but since the puppy finally seemed, if not content with the backseat, at least likely to stay there, he got them moving in the direction of the nearest pet store once Bucky had punched in the address.

Of course, it was impossible to miss the way Bucky pulled out a list from his wallet, making Steve's lips curl up into a smile once more. "How long have you been planning this?"

Clearly long enough; when they got there, he let the two of them get ahead of him, though he was still keeping a sharp eye out for anything that seemed amiss. It wouldn't do to get soft, just because Bucky was having a good time and Steve was a mused, so even if he had a congenial smile on his face, he was still checking out every corner of the pet store with a quick look as they stepped inside. He was never more than a few feet from Bucky, even though he tried not to crowd him or his new dog. "Should I get a cart? She's probably going to need a lot of food."

Date: 2014-06-17 12:41 am (UTC)
punched_hitler: (just a smile)
From: [personal profile] punched_hitler
Steve let Bucky do the looking - at the supplies for the dog, at least. He was just keeping a lookout throughout the store, now looking for press in addition to threats. After all, Bucky was the son of the president. He had no doubt there was someone in the press tracking his moves, even something like the innocent trip they were making today. Although at Bucky's words, he had to laugh a little, catching the meaning behind them. "I'm surprised you didn't call them yourself... or did you?"

Date: 2014-06-17 05:37 am (UTC)
punched_hitler: [tws] (serious (new helmet))
From: [personal profile] punched_hitler
"I wouldn't actually expect that to stop you," Steve pointed out, but he was teasing, smiling, as he followed Bucky through the aisles. Bucky was like a man on a mission - a very well-prepared man on a mission, which bespoke the amount of time Bucky had been planning this little stunt. Well, good on him. It was certainly doing him good, of that Steve was sure.

Though when Bucky paused and frowned, Steve did too, a little. There were... a lot of brands of dog food. "Isn't it all pretty similar?" He was admittedly out of his element, he'd never owned a pet. "I'm sure - "

It was about then that he noticed the young woman at the end of the aisle, just a split second before Bucky did. But she didn't approach them - no, she was holding her cell phone in that way that Steve had learned that meant she was taking pictures with it. He tensed, but Bucky had said not to stop the press... that supposedly meant people snooping, too, although he could tell that while Bucky was trying to act casually, he was bothered.

Steve stepped up beside Bucky, looking as though he was reading the back of the bag, too, though he said, quietly, "I can ask her to stop if it's really bothering you."

Date: 2014-06-17 10:11 pm (UTC)
punched_hitler: [tfa]; this time with bucky! (squinting in the snow)
From: [personal profile] punched_hitler
Steve felt a little bad, seeing - and feeling - Bucky tense up even more as he stepped close. He tried to give him some space, but he also wanted to stay close, to be as reassuring as he could.

He nodded, grabbing the biggest bag the place had and setting it in the cart before Bucky started off to find the last supplies they'd need. He was doing just fine, steering the cart one-handed, but Steve moved to put one hand on the side of the cart, nonetheless, just to stay close. The woman had definitely snapped a few pictures of their retreating backs, he was sure. "It probably won't take long for those to go up," he murmured, as they finally found the right aisle and he let Bucky get to work, finding what he wanted for the puppy. "But I'm betting you were kind of counting on that. You want your mom to see them, right?"

Date: 2014-06-18 05:29 am (UTC)
punched_hitler: (still confused)
From: [personal profile] punched_hitler
"Right." Thankfully, by now, Steve knew what that meant - and knew that Bucky had sort of meant for it to happen. What he was sure Bucky hadn't meant to happen was the panic attack Steve could see brewing a mile away; he stayed close, the rest of the trip, and when Bucky had paid for the dog supplies, he put a hand gently at the small of Bucky's back. He didn't know if the other would want to be touched, but he hoped it would at least be reassuring. "Come on. Let's get to the car. You're fine. I won't let anything happen to you. Remember that." He glanced down at the puppy. "Rose is on your side, too."

And with that, he did his best to usher Bucky and Rose out to the car, opening the door for Bucky and trying to get him to sit inside, where he could hopefully relax, while Steve piled the supplies in the trunk.

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make_it_hurt: (Default)
James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes

August 2023

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