Closed RP with [Punched-Hitler]

[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.

Comments

[punched_hitler]

Steve wouldn't have cared if Bucky had laughed at his expense - as it was, he laughed a little, for him, shrugging with a helpless smile. "I guess I am. Can't help it, really." He was from the forties, and sometimes he expected things to just be a certain way, only to realize he was pretty far behind the times.

He glanced up as the president said she needed to go, nodding confidently when Bucky spoke. "We'll be fine." He ignored those tears, not mentioning them, but the look in his eyes said he understood why they were there.

"Yes, ma'am. Like your son said - we'll be fine." He could imagine she wanted to do nothing but stay, and he couldn't blame her. But she had to go. "If you need to know anything, you will." But he planned on this being a routine afternoon, because he didn't want any more surprises for Bucky or for his mother. "He'll be here when you get back." He said that as much for Bucky as for his mother.

[make_it_hurt]

She nodded and hesitated for another moment, then closed in again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I love you, Bucky."

"I love you too, Mom." He clung to her for a long few moments then let go, knowing that she had to go. Bucky sagged back into his pillows, drawing his hand up to his throat, the handkerchief still clutched in his fingers.

She left, pulling the door shut behind her.

Bucky watched her go then said, "We argued, the night they... She didn't want me to go to the party. I went anyways." He looked up at Steve, "Can I have more water?" At least the tears were slowing.

[punched_hitler]

Steve watched Bucky lay back, trying to offer a comforting smile. "Kids and parents fight," he said softly - okay, he hadn't had parents for much of his life, but he did remember that much. "It doesn't mean you don't love each other." Although he could imagine how awful he'd feel, if the last words he'd ever said to his mom had been in anger.

"You can't change it now," he said, "But you can learn from it. That's all anyone can do." When Bucky asked for more water, he nodded, pushing himself up and grabbing the cup. "Sure." There was water on the other side of the room, which was good because he wouldn't have left the room to get it. He refilled the cup, bringing it back over, trying to reach down and help Bucky sit up so he could sip it without choking.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky nodded. He let Steve help him sit up but clung to him to drink, still not used to not having his left arm to support himself with or use in general. He gulped down the water then was happy to lay back.

"If I sleep... you'll be here when I wake up, right? You wouldn't be gone?" He was afraid of being alone. He didn't want to be isolated anymore. What he would do if Steve was going leave, he didn't know. He also knew, logically, that Steve wouldn't be able to stay with him forever - he was an Avenger and saved people.

[punched_hitler]

Steve didn't mind acting as a stabilizer; he just stayed still so Bucky could use him to stay up and drink until he was finished. He set the cup aside, taking a seat by the bed again, nodding in answer to the question. "I'll be right here. I'm not leaving your side." After all, that was what a bodyguard did - he stayed with his assignment. He'd figure out how they were going to work out other things, like showering and sleeping, later. Steve was a light sleeper, though, so even if he dozed, nothing would get by him. But for now, he was wide awake, and he wasn't leaving this room. He was here for as long as the president needed him - that duty came first, before any loyalty to the Avengers. He was, after all, still an Army officer.

[make_it_hurt]

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.

[punched_hitler]

"Yeah -" Steve was just getting up to get that blanket when the agent and the nurse arrived. Steve smiled sympathetically at Bucky, shrugging a little helplessly. "Maybe this'll help you sleep better," he offered, taking a step back to let the nurse work. His eyes couldn't help but track down Bucky's body, taking in the evidence of what had been done to him. The arm was the most obvious above the sheets, sure, but once the blankets had been pulled back, there was so much more. His expression didn't change, much, but the image before him made his stomach churn - though not for the reason Bucky thought. After all, none of this was Bucky's fault. In fact, if nothing else, all of those injuries were simply a testament to how much he could endure. That made Steve's opinion of him go up, not down.

Steve didn't have much medical experience, but still, he felt the sudden need to ask, "Can I lend a hand?" There was, after all, only one nurse... and a lot of bandages that might need changing.

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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.

[punched_hitler]

It was hard to stay objective when he could see, clearer and clearer, all the damage that had been done. Steve could analyze every wound and figure out, pretty easily, exactly what had made them. But he knew that making any sort of sound or face would only make Bucky feel worse, and he'd seen plenty of bad wounds on a battlefield. The problem was, these hadn't been made on a battlefield. Maybe that was why they seemed so much worse.

Steve had also seen naked men before, and he was sure the nurse had, too. Though he was equally sure Bucky wasn't enjoying the way his gown was riding up as the nurse tended to those terrible-looking cuts on his thighs, either. He bit the inside of his lip, just watching the pain that passed over Bucky's face, and moved when the nurse gave him indirect instructions, asking if he could support Bucky's lower back. He moved to place his hands as gently as possible against Bucky's back, trying to find some part of it that wasn't damaged or in pain. "She's almost done," he murmured quietly, not watching the nurse working, but watching Bucky's face instead. "Then you can get some sleep and I promise, it's gonna feel pretty good."

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky nodded, flinching as the gauze padding touched his skin, then the tighter wrap of the bandages. He gasped into Steve's shoulder as she helped him slide his legs back under the sheets.

"Your chest and arm, and then you're done." She smiled and rubbed Bucky's knee through the blankets. It was enough to help Bucky relax and his hand went from his hospital gown to Steve's shoulder, clinging as the nurse urged him to sit up, tucking the blankets around him so she could push down the top part of the gown to work on Bucky's chest.

Sitting upright was bad and he gasped against Steve, his chest aching hard. It was a mess of scar tissue, still pink and soft and scabby on the right side of his chest, just above his diaphragm. His back was scabbed over heavily with lacerations that were each cleaned out before he could be laid back.

Bucky refused to look at his arm as it was unwrapped and instead said to Steve, "I bet this is tons of fun for you." He tried to smile but instead his lips trembled and he kept his fingers tangled in Steve's shirt, not wanting him to get too far away.

[punched_hitler]

Steve hated that Bucky was clearly in so much pain - he'd been broken, badly, but he was also in good hands. He could tell this nurse was good, although he wasn't surprised, given Bucky's mother and her pull. Then again... if Bucky's mother hadn't been the president, would this have ever happened?

Steve knew better than to say something stupid, like, It's all part of the job or Not as much fun for me as it is for you. He knew Bucky was just looking for something else to concentrate on, and he was feeling less and less like this was a job and more and more like protecting this boy's life - giving him something that made him feel safe - was something he couldn't refuse to do. He leaned closer, giving Bucky something solid to hold onto, his hand moving up to support his back as carefully as he could while his eyes tried to catch Bucky's and hold them. "Look at me," he said, gently but firmly. "Just keep your eyes on me. You've got a good nurse, Bucky, and I'll bet you won't feel a thing."

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky couldn't look Steve in the eye. He tried then diverted his gaze, too used to being punished for direct eye contact. Still, he curled his arm around Steve's waist and clung to him desperately tightly.

The nurse was indeed quick with the stump of his arm and she said, "I'm done." and stepped back, shucking her gloves off into the hazardous waste bin on top of a mess of bloody, pus-soaked gauze. "You're healing well. Should be able to get you off the oxygen in the next few days, if your lung holds up well and can manage. We'll get you walking as soon as possible though you'll probably be leaving here in a wheelchair. That cut on your left ankle will keep you from walking too far too fast." She smiled and started to write on Bucky's chart.

"How's your pain level?"

Bucky hummed. "I'm sore all over."

"Any sharp pains?" Bucky shook his head. "Alright. Get some rest, then." She smiled and put the chart back down before leaving the hospital room, pulling her cart along behind her.

Bucky sighed and slowly let go of Steve. "Now I'm really ready to sleep."

[punched_hitler]

Steve didn't like the way Bucky wouldn't look him in the eye, but they could deal with that later. He didn't expect Bucky to trust him right off the bat, he expected to have to work for it. Bucky was already doing a pretty amazing job of holding it together under circumstances that would have broken most people, and Steve respected that. A lot.

Once the nurse was finished, Steve just kept waiting patiently until Bucky was ready to let go. He offered a sympathetic smile, nodding and pulling his gloves off so he could toss them into the trash. "I'll bet. You can sleep as long as you need to. I'll be right here." If he needed anything - like food - he'd send someone to get it. Steve wasn't leaving this room, especially not while Bucky was asleep. He wasn't likely to do it if he was awake, either. Guarding Bucky was his job, and he took it very seriously. "You need anything first?"

[make_it_hurt]

"Another blanket?" He struggled with the mess of tubes and wires, just wanting to sleep. He was exhausted and scared of the memories that were bubbling up, of rough hands on his hips and a harsh laugh in his ear. His entire body was aching and he was glad it was just he and Steve. He could trust Captain America to keep him safe, to not do anything to him. To not lose him in a crowd.

The people outside may have been trusted by his mother, but they were the same kind of people that had let him be taken, had let him go through eight months of torture and hell.

[punched_hitler]

"You got it." There were plenty of blankets and other supplies over on the other side of the room, so it was no problem to go and get one more. Steve shook it out, laying it evenly over Bucky's bed and tugging up the top so he could reach it with his right arm and situate the blanket however he wanted.

"Get some sleep," he advised, gently. He'd be right here when Bucky woke up.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky pulled the blanket up, tucking it nervously over his left arm to hide the stump then asked, reaching for Steve's hand, "If I have nightmares.... will you wake me up? I don't... I don't want to be trapped in a dream." All he dreamt about was what they had done, what they were going to do.

He was tired, and warm, and if he wasn't exactly comfortable, at least Steve was here to keep him safe. He pushed his fingers against the back of Steve's hand, wanting the touch but not wanting to ask for it. He wasn't sure if he could ask for touch, not sure if Steve would take that as permission to touch him whenever he wanted. He wanted it to be on his own terms and not anybody else's.

[punched_hitler]

"Yeah - yeah, of course." Steve settled into the chair next to Bucky, glancing down and the up again as fingers touched his. He couldn't blame Bucky for wanting something - someone - to touch, to know that he wasn't alone and that Steve wasn't going anywhere. He didn't mind at all - he knew Bucky had asked not to be touched, and Steve would respect that, but he also sort of figured that if Bucky reached out to him... then it was okay to respond. He twisted his hand a little, so that his palm was facing up, giving Bucky a small, reassuring smile as he squeezed his fingers, very gently, just enough to let him know that he wasn't letting go. Nor would he touch without being asked. That was rude under the best of circumstances, and these weren't the best.

"If you look like you're in trouble, I'll wake you up," he promised in so many words, just to make sure Bucky knew he would. But he hoped Bucky wouldn't have bad dreams - he needed the rest.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky sighed in relief as Steve's fingers curled with his, squeezing gently. He nodded and drifted off, the painkillers enough to ensure a deep, dreamless sleep.

President Barnes was back within three hours and slipped into the room quietly, her heels held in her hand. "They told me he was sleeping," she whispered, and crossed to the bed. "How's he doing?"

[punched_hitler]

Steve hadn't let go of Bucky's hand - though of course that would change if the situation did. Thankfully, it hadn't - there had been no threats, and he was simply leaning back in the chair, practicing sketching with his left hand (which was... an interesting exercise, because he was not left-handed).

He glanced up as the president came into the room, body clearly at the ready to do something if she was an enemy, but she wasn't, so he relaxed. "He's doing okay. Sleeping pretty soundly. I'm sure he needs it." Recovering took a lot of energy, and that took a lot of sleep. "I'm guessing he'll be pretty hungry when he wakes up." He smiled sympathetically - "How did the press take things?" Hopefully they hadn't been too hard on her.

[make_it_hurt]

"As well as could be expected, I guess." She pulled another chair over and sat next to Steve. She touched Bucky's arm, then his face, before she seemed satisfied that he was really there and settled back. "I made it pretty clear that he's not to be disturbed while recovering, so we'll see how well that goes." She smiled. "I'm eager to get him back home and to his own bed, where he's safe." They wouldn't dare try and take Bucky directly from the White House.

[punched_hitler]

Steve hummed, nodding. He was glad that, for the most part, he didn't have to deal with the press anymore. He was pretty sure they'd only gotten more bold and invasive over the past seventy years. He didn't envy the president, but he knew that was part of her job, and she handled it well.

"I'm sure he's eager to get back there, too. Just being home can make a lot of things better," he agreed - plus, he knew the White House was much more secure than any hospital, even one frequented by the president and her family. "You know, I've never actually been to the White House," he said, laughing a little - quietly, not wanting to disturb Bucky out of sleep. "I never had the chance to get there."

[make_it_hurt]

She smiled. "Well I hope you don't mind living with us for the forseeable future." She reached forward and touched Bucky's wrist. Their fingers were twined together though Bucky's grip was loose. "I'm glad he likes you. He's always been so picky about his guard, and I couldn't just let him go places alone, not with all the hate I get for being a single mother. A single mother with a gay son would have a hard enough time even if she wasn't the president."

President Barnes sighed. "I don't want him bothered. Even after he starts going out and doing things, when he's recovered... I can't ask you to stay on as his permanent bodyguard, you have other things to occupy your time with. But if you would stay until he's... out and about, I would appreciate it." She smiled.

[punched_hitler]

"It's a privilege, ma'am," he said, though the ma'am was more a term of friendly address than actual protocol, though he still of course respected the president and considered her his commanding officer - because she was, really. She could order him to do anything, and he would do it, because he was a soldier and he obeyed. He was glad she didn't seem to mind, though, that he hadn't dropped Bucky's hand since he'd fallen asleep. He'd sort of thought that it might be more comforting for Bucky to wake up and feel, right away, that his bodyguard was still here.

His lips twitched a little when she mentioned how hard it was for her and Bucky, and he nodded. "He's lucky to have you." And he meant that. Growing up in the 40s, many mothers had not been quite so accepting when their sons had decided they liked guys more than dolls. Steve wasn't naive, but he also didn't envy any of those men. It was still hard, in the 21st century, but he was glad at least some mothers seemed able to look beyond the gender their sons preferred. He'd sort of figured... as long as everyone was happy, where was the harm? God knew, if his own mother had lived and wanted grandchildren... well, Steve was pretty bad with women. It was just... hard to get interested in them, sometimes.

"I'll stay as long as you want," he said, and he meant it. "As long as I'm doing good, that's all I care about. And I'd like to think I can do your son some good. Maybe just seeing him with me will make anyone planning anything in the future think twice."

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She smiled. "Call me Jennifer, please. No need to call me ma'am." Jennifer turned her attention back to her son and reached forward, sweeping a bit of hair back off his face. "I think you can do him some good as well. When he was just a boy, five or six, he was obsessed with you. Captain America costume for halloween, sheets, toys, everything. When he was eight, of course, that all changed. But he always had posters up. Still does." She rested her hand on her chin and looked at Steve out of the corner of her eye.

"The press doesn't know he's gay. I would like to keep it that way. I want it to be his decision to come out, if he ever does." She sighed.

"He's eighteen. He hasn't even gotten to celebrate his eighteenth birthday. If he... expresses interest in anybody, I want you to let me know. I didn't know about Corey until after they were already dating and I want to make sure nothing else is going to happen to him."

[punched_hitler]

"Jennifer," he repeated, softly, though it did feel pretty strange to be calling the President of the United States by her first name. But, Steve supposed, she was just a person, like any other. She had a name, and a family, and so much more than just her office. He could understand that, too. Some people at SHIELD didn't seem to understand that he was a person, and not just a weapon or an icon. He had a name, and there was a lot more to him than just this uniform, even if he supposed that throwing himself into his work probably didn't really help much with that image.

He blinked as Jennifer went on, saying that Bucky had... "Oh," he said softly, the faintest blush springing up on his cheeks. He had never done any of this for the fame, and he'd always felt a little strange as a public icon, even if it had seemed to get the job done. The idea that kids idolized him... "I... well, that wan't why I did this," he said softly, just to make sure that the president knew he wasn't in it for the fame. He was in it to serve his country. "Any of it. But... I guess it's a little flattering."

Not that he was the best role model, he thought, but... there could be worse, right? That just meant that whatever he did would be more important to Bucky, and it made him more determined not to let him down.

Steve nodded, his mouth twisting a little. "That's admirable. I think it should be his decision, but I know how hard the press can make everything, too." But he agreed with what she said next. "I promise, if he tells me about anyone, I'll let you know. And I'm not leaving him alone with anyone you don't trust." Maybe not even then. "Love can make you do some pretty crazy things, and that's not what he needs right now."