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Anastasia Rockwell loved her Veterinary Clinic. She spent so much time on it, and even though it wasn't what her parents wanted for her, claiming that she wasn't a real doctor because of it, Anastasia was happy with the work she did and wouldn't change it for the world. What the crimson-eyed woman hated about running her own vet office was closing by herself. This usually wouldn't be an issue as she always had at least two people working at all times, but Hayato had face-timed her early this morning, sounding horrid and looking like death.
It wouldn't be the first time that Anastasia had to close by herself, but it never ceased to make her paranoid as she started turning out lights and locking up as she made her way towards the back entrance. Her mind conjured up every horror movie scenario she could think of. It didn't matter that she could evade most attacks; Anastasia still got a rush of anxiety having to close alone so late at night. She ensured that her charges were set for the night, the little dudes already settling down as she passed with wishes of sweet dreams.
"Okay. Let's do this." Anastasia muttered, flipping the lights and high-tailing it to the final area she needed to close, refusing to look back into the looming darkness of the kennels.
"Safe." The snowy-haired woman rested against the door as she took a moment to catch her breath, sliding the lock into place.
A crash from the back door had the crimson-eyed woman tensing, grabbing for the first thing on the desk next to her before brandishing it at the intruder.
"I- is that a pencil?" Anastasia glanced down to find that in her haste, she did, in fact, grab a pencil to wield against her potential attacker.
"In my defense, John Wick once killed three me- holy fuck, you have a metal arm." Only then did she pay more attention to the male in front of her.
Her observation brought her up short as she noticed he was holding onto his side, and an alarming amount of blood had started dripping onto her floor's white tiles as his other shoulder stained his shirt from a wound there as well. She couldn't see much else of his face due to the mask, but ice-blue eyes were a mix of shock and confusion, likely at the threat she could pose with a piece of stationery.
When Bucky resurfaced, he found himself in less-than-ideal conditions. The Soldier had receded back with the immediate threat over, and James was shocked at the trembling woman before him threatening him with a pencil of all things.
He was doing a decent job of staying off of everyone's radar, but whoever had found him must have known about his version of the serum. The bullet went straight through his abdomen, and the second one clipped him in the shoulder. The shock of the pain and the fact that it didn't begin to heal sent the two personalities switching out, and Winter did what he did best, eliminated the threat and disappeared.
Now Bucky had to deal with the sudden loss of blood and the fact that he had broken into a vet that wasn't quite closed, and a woman who, upon realizing he was currently bleeding out in her back office, fluttered around him, trying to help. That was the only saving grace, as he wasn't sure he could put up much of a fight, even if she was so small in comparison.
"No hospitals." He didn't even realize he was losing consciousness until his head hit the blood-soaked floor.
When Bucky woke, it was to the Soldier co-fronting, more awake and wary of the unfamiliar surroundings. James was just glad he wasn't found and had managed to get a decent amount of sleep for once. He sat up in the bed he was in, shoving the blankets down around his waist before taking stock.
He was currently in someone's bedroom. The lack of personal effects likely meant that it was a guest bedroom. Nevertheless, the bed was soft, the blackout curtains blocked the midday sun from creeping in, and Bucky was not in the clothes from last night.
A quick glance, and he found those folded neatly on the bench at the foot of the bed with his mask and goggles on top. The soldier was currently in a pair of sweatpants that were slightly too short, and his torso was heavily bandaged. There was a glass of water and pain meds on the bedside table, but before Bucky could decide what to do next, the door opened, and the woman from the vet froze as they locked eyes.
"You threatened me with a pencil last night." The Soldier was amused by that, and he took pleasure in watching her cheeks flame red with embarrassment.
"I panicked, okay.. and then you went and passed out on me. But I couldn't just let you die on my clinic floor, so I patched you up. And you looked like shit, and I felt bad, so I brought you home and showered you and stuff because you look like the type that wouldn't accept help. And sorry, not sorry, but the murder glare you gave me when you first broke in is terrifying, so I wasn't about to wake you up to ask permission. Oh. I'm Anastasia, by the way." The woman rambled, her chin jutting into the air though her posture screamed that she was uncomfortable.
"James." He offered.
It seemed as though Anastasia realized why she had entered in the first place as she perked up.
"I-uh. I made breakfast if you want some. Or you can rest more. I don't mind."
"You don't know me. Why are you helping me, and how did you get me here without anyone calling the police?"
"Contractual obligation." James raised an eyebrow, and the woman huffed.
"I'd just feel awful if you died in my office and knew I could help. You looked like you could use some rest. So um. Breakfast?" Bucky noticed that she didn't answer his question about how she had gotten him here, but with how she chattered and tried to engage him in conversation, he knew he had plenty of time to find out.