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A faint beeping could be heard in the distance joined by a consistent pitter-patter of rain. Two steady drips of fluid dripped in time. When Bucky woke up-and it would be Bucky to wake up first-he wouldn’t remember how he got here.
“They’ll want to be next to each other when they wake up. If there’s any way you can fit two beds in a room, do it.”
The reality was, Steve was banged up because of Bucky-and not for a reason they’d like. It started like any normal mission; go in, eliminate the target, get the hell out. Let’s say that something went wrong with step 2.5. Bucky was getting a civilian out, and right after he got her to safety, a little steel ball rolled to his feet.
The one thing they’ll both remember when they wake is the beeping. Fifteen incessant seconds of beeping. Steve, of course, the boyfriend he is, ran over to grab Bucky. But, alas, they weren’t fast enough and the bogey blew. Steve took the most damage, as he was covering Bucky’s body with his own. His ‘Christmas list’ racked up two broken ribs, one fractured tibia, a grade four concussion, and a shit load of shrapnel. Turns out those little steel balls, while containing explosives also contain tiny bits of sharpened metal to be launched upon detonation.
Bucky’s concussion was worse, but he had fewer broken bones. Though he did take the superlative for ‘largest forehead slice.’
He started to hear the beeping again. But, that couldn’t be, right? He got out, didn’t he? Unless...he didn’t. His eyes weren’t opening, and if that isn’t a symptom of being dead he doesn’t know what. It was actually just a side effect of the pain meds that were being pumped into him a gallon at a time and not a side effect of the afterlife.
The first thing Bucky’s eyes caught onto was the Iv spliced into his right hand. Well, that’s new, he thought to himself. Slowly he turned his head (well it was mostly his eyes, his head wasn’t doing too great) and he caught sight of something-or rather someone-lying about a foot away from him.
“Steve?” He murmured. There was no response. Steve’s eyes were closed and his mouth was covered by a clear mask that Bucky assumed was for oxygen. He reached up with his left hand to touch his face. There was nothing over his mouth, but his nostrils were plugged with a cannula, something he was fairly familiar with as after more difficult missions, hydra would give him one to aid a ‘speedy recovery'.
His eyes started to wander, catching onto various sights around the room. A curtain covering the main window into what he assumed was a hallway, a table littered with various medications and medical devices. While he stared at the small table, investigating every bit of it, his mind pestered his eyes to look to the left. But, alas, he refused. He couldn’t look, and it took all his strength not to.
The thing about Steve, in Bucky’s mind, is that he’s everything. Even when he was the smallest person in the tiniest boniest body, he was the strongest person James knew. Ever since Bucky first pulled that little seven-year-old out of a fight, he’s always tried to be stronger. Not just stronger physically, but braver. He was ready to take that blow, and he was sure he could take it. Bucky, in his mind, believed, that he didn’t need Steve to save him. He was saving Steve by taking the fall .
And now, here they were, strapped to machines, drips, and tubes blowing air into their noses. Against his better judgment, Bucky looked.
His second look at Steve was even worse than the first. He could see his face, now that the haziness of his drug-induced sleep was gone. On that face, he saw bruises and dried blood. How could no one have cleaned him? Bucky thought and for a stupid moment, he wished that he could reach over and wipe off all that blood. He would press a kiss, feather-light and full of love to Steve’s cheek. Steve’s eyes would whistle open and his lips would curl into one of those smiles that he gives Bucky every couple of mornings when he’s feeling especially romantic. Bucky would smile back and they would lay next to each other for another hour, not saying anything just… being with each other.
All of it was a dream though, Bucky was still laying tethered and Steve was still asleep with that stupid mask on his face. Do they think he can’t breathe?
It was now that Bucky realized he didn’t remember anything that happened after the beeping stopped. Bucky had no idea why Steve was so banged up, and why he was so much more banged up than he was.
Shit , he thought as a stabbing pain rushed into his side. The beeping in the room increased as Bucky’s vision blurred and his teeth ground together. The doors swung open and two sets of footsteps belonging to, what James assumed to be, nurses ran in.
Groggily, Bucky pushed out two words, using far too much strength than he should have.
“Hello, ladies.” The women, or at least he assumed they were women; his eyesight wasn’t very good at the moment, rushed past him to the small table. One grabbed a small vial and syringe while the other appeared at Bucky’s side and started doing...something. The other one, the one with the vial, came back and started pushing the mysterious liquid into the pump attached to his right hand.
The world went black again.
--
Bucky woke again and the first thing he noticed was that the mask had been removed from Steve’s face. Upon further investigation, Bucky realized that Steve was rolled to the side, facing him now rather than laying flat on his back. A rush of relief began to flood through him but was interrupted when he reached up to feel that the dreaded clear mask had been put on him instead. As quickly as he could manage, Bucky ripped the mask off his face.
“Steve?” His throat was mangled and dry, crackling with every word he managed to expel. A rustle could be heard from the other side of the room, followed promptly by a sigh.
“Buck.” God. The smile that emerged from Steve Roger’s lips could have fixed Bucky’s broken ribs.
“Are we dead?” Steve murmured.
“ ‘as far ‘s I know, we’re alive. But they put this stupid mask on me.” He attempted to reach behind him and grab the mask, but he failed. They laid for a while, in silence but with an unspoken fear. It was Bucky who broke the silence after the most achingly long fifteen minutes.
“Stevie, I’m sorry. It’s my fault you’re in here with me. If I hadn’t gotten close to that stupid bomb -”
“No,” Steve coughed. “I don’t regret what I did. You would...have died.” James could tell that Steve had been on that oxygen for a while. All those tubes can mess up your throat, and leave you coughing for days. Or at least, that’s what Bucky remembers from his glory days.
Slowly, Bucky reached his left hand out. Steve replied by doing the same. Their fingers, a painting of flesh and metal, intertwined. A squeeze was sent from Steve’s hand. Bucky had never been so grateful for Stark’s experimental sensation technology.
“I love you,” Steve whispered.
“I swear, they go through all this effort to put us in the same room, but keep us in separate beds!” Bucky exclaimed. While he couldn’t exactly get tired from holding his arm up, he knew that Steve could and he wished, desperately, that he could hold Steve.
“Homophobia,” Steve scoffed. The two of them laughed, ignoring the pain that sprung up in response.
“That’s gotta be it,” Bucky smiled. He didn’t notice it, but he had rolled onto his side and propped onto his elbow. Again they fell into silence, a wall between their clasped hands. One question held in the air, refusing to befall from Bucky’s lips. He didn’t know the answer, and he couldn’t tell if he wanted Steve’s. James Barnes though was never great at decisiveness. He would prefer to just pick something and do it. So he did. He ran a metal thumb across Steve’s palm and took a breath.
“Do you remember what happened?” Bucky asked against all his better judgment. Steve’s eyes met his and Bucky could tell that Steve’s smile had disappeared. The blue eyes he saw just a moment before, closed as a few stray tears began to fall.
“Yeah…” his voice was but a whisper to Bucky’s ears.
“Can you tell me?” Steve’s left hand came to wipe the tears away from his eyelids before he recounted the entire memory. He told his love about the bomb and how close Buck was to it. He, albeit reluctantly, told Bucky about how he jumped over the grenade.
“I told you to stop doing that. You’re gonna get yourself killed one day.” Finally, Steve’s lips perked back up, bringing Bucky to release a sigh that he didn’t know he’d been holding in.
“I’ll die a thousand times if it’s for you.”
“God, If only I could get out of this stupid bed. I’d come over there and give you a sock in the jaw.” Bucky didn’t try to wipe the tear that fell.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to get out of this bed for a bit, at least from what I heard the nurses say.” Steve reached out again, taking Bucky’s hand in his own. This time Steve pulled just a bit, just enough to bring the cold metal fingers to his lips.
--
Soon enough, Bucky would be able to get out of the bed and into a chair. The most luxurious life in his opinion. But at least he could touch Steve, and he could sit next to Steve, and he could bring his hand to stroke Steve’s cheek.
For every hour of the day that he could manage to stay awake, Bucky sat in a wheelchair parked by his love’s bedside. They would talk about nothing on end, occasionally someone would stop by but usually, it was just them.
Today was different, but not a bad kind of different. Today music was playing through a speaker on the medication table. Some kind of jazz but not the stuff that Bucky was used to. There was only one person who brought that music with him, and also the only one who constantly forced Buck to listen to it.
“How’s the leg, Captain America?” Sam’s gruff voice spoke. Steve chuckled.
“Still broken, falcon.”
“Dear Jesus, do not call me falcon. That is for tabloids only.” Bucky grabbed a bite of the sandwich Sam brought him from the cafeteria.
“You are the one who casually called him Captain America.”
Bucky, as usual, was in his wheelchair. But today, Sam Wilson was sitting in the recliner across from Steve’s bed.
“Have we missed out on anything?” Steve asked.
“Not much, nothing as exciting as the last mission. There’s been a few scuffles but nothing major.” Bucky stared at a cut on Sam’s forward. That can’t be more than two days old. It’s recent.
“I wish I was out there with you,” Steve groaned.
“No. You two have been putting too much in, if the only way to get a vacation was to almost die-then so be it.”
“Come on Sam,” Bucky begrugened. “Let’s just strike a deal. You break us out of the hospital, and we don’t tell anyone it was you.” Sam just laughed.
“Guys, come on. This is the longest either of you will probably ever stay in a hospital. Enjoy the free food. Have belligerently loud sex for all the nurses to hear.” That last comment elicited a rather large laugh from Steve.
“Maybe if I flash the nurses my forties eyes, they’ll discharge me early.”
“What in the name of sanity are forties eyes ?” Sam shouted. Bucky laughed.
“You see, back in the day, I was something of a ladies’ man. I could walk out of the house and fifteen dames would pounce me. If I were out on the docks and I saw someone I could just give ‘em these eyes.” He looked up at Sam, his eyes blazing like fire yet dazzling with starlight.
“And what did Steve think of that?” Steve, who was crunching on some ice chips, choked and began coughing. He calmed down and started chewing again before responding to Sam.
“Well, honestly, I didn’t care. As long as it kept the police out of our ass I was happy. And anyhow, those are the eyes I fell in love with.” Bucky’s hand gave Steve’s a quick squeeze.
“Christ you two are cheesy.” Sam’s face fell into his palm. Bucky’s position in his wheelchair shifted as he grasped onto the side of Steve’s bed. Slowly he stood up and plopped his body next to Steve. Steve, much to his dismay, was unable to spoon Bucky because of the large cast on his lower leg. While he was grateful for Bucky’s presence, he wasn't happy to have to settle for just draping a loose arm around Bucky’s torso.
“It’s what we’re here for.” Bucky blew Sam a smiley kiss, to which Sam put his finger in his open mouth. Bleh .
“If you’re just going to be rude about it, you can leave,” Steve said.
Sam didn’t leave. He stayed and joked with the boys for another hour. They each played a game of blackjack with Sam after he mentioned off the cuff that he was quote: ‘the king of blackjack never lost a game.’
He did in fact, lose a game. More than just a few actually. Turns out, Bucky, when he is incredibly bored and incredibly angry at everyone who is making him bored, is a master at card games. Steve, playing as the dealer, smiled at every match that Bucky took away winning.
“I don’t like you anymore,” Sam pouted. Steve simply laughed wholeheartedly.
“That’s okay Sam,” Bucky gave him a pat on the back. Behind him, Bucky heard the smallest of yawns emit from Steve’s mouth. In an effort to get Steve some rest, Bucky tactically changed the conversation.
“So what’s next for you?” Sam huffed.
“Ah, another wonderful meeting at A Tower, if only I were in your position and couldn’t go.” Steve, though growing wearier by the second, gave the energy to laugh. Another yawn followed.
“If only I could join you!” Bucky was visibly sarcastic. “But really, watch out for Stark and also for the paparazzi and the crazy fans. They can be...something.” They all laughed as if remembering symbiotically everything they’ve been through.
“I’ll be going then,” Sam said as he unplugged the iPod, bringing the music to an abrupt halt. “Hopefully the old hat and sunglasses routine will be enough to keep the crowds away.”
“Thank you for coming, Sam,” Steve said with his face buried in Bucky’s side. “It’s been just us around here for too long. I was about to go crazy before you came.”
Sam left with a smile. Steve fell asleep just moments after he left, curled into Bucky’s arms. He hummed a melody to blur out the ambient noise of the hospital. A feather-light kiss was brushed against Steve’s cheek.
“Good night solnishka . Sleep well.” Once more, Bucky pressed a kiss to a freckle above Steve’s eye. His arms shifted, enclosing his love inside them.
Their vacation was short-lived, as theirs usually are. Of course, they were thankful to be discharged, but they relished the time that they could spend alone. But, then again, there’s the home rest to look forward to.