Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

After spending so much time in a hospital setting back when Sam had been recovering from severe injury, Bucky figured he was on a roll when it came to facing his fear of everything medical. He wanted to keep that ball rolling, wanted to keep the momentum going, before he allowed the petrifying fear associated with his vast history of medical trauma to creep back in again.

Therefore, Bucky had gone to the trouble of personally scheduling his own routine checkup at the Compound’s Medbay. He had never willingly been to the Medbay before, but given the occupational hazards he faced on a near daily basis, he knew it couldn’t hurt to officially be registered in the Avengers’ medical system.

Bucky was trying really hard to work on being more friendly and trusting towards people lately. He had made friends with every staff member he had met back at the hospital Sam had been staying in, and while these were different people working here at the Medbay, he assumed the same principle should easily apply.

Of course, that logic didn’t stop Bucky from employing the help of Sam when the day of his appointment came rolling around. He knew everyone here would be friendly and trustworthy, but a little moral support would go a long way.

He felt thankful that Sam didn’t make a big deal out of it. Sam likely knew how big of a step this was for Bucky, and he didn’t rib him about it as much as he would given any other situation.

The two of them were sitting side by side in a pair of comfy chairs in the exam room they had been led to. The exam table itself made for a threatening centerpiece, and Bucky was doing his best not to look at it.

There was a threadbare blue gown sitting atop it, but Bucky wasn’t going to bother changing into it. As far as he was concerned, everything they did today would be occurring above the belt. If Cho wanted to listen to his heart and lungs, she could just shimmy the little stethoscope thingy underneath the three layers of shirts he was wearing.

They weren’t speaking to each other, but it wasn’t awkward. While words of reassurance were important in some instances, Sam also knew there were situations where silence was golden. Bucky needed to be alone with his own thoughts right now, and Sam’s quiet, calming presence brought comfort in its own way.

There were two gentle knocks at the door. Sam expected Bucky to jump or startle in some way, but he didn’t react. He must have been able to hear Cho approaching, or maybe he really wasn’t all that nervous.

The door opened, and Cho came in, looking down at the StarkPad she was typing information into. “Alright Mr. Barnes, what’s the issue today?”

“No issue… and don’t call me ‘Mr. Barnes’.”

Cho ignored the tell off, her brow furrowing in confusion. Bucky didn’t just pop by the Medbay for fun. “Then what are you doing here?”

“Is it so outrageous to believe that I’m just trying to be proactive with my health?”

Cho’s eyebrows raised as she nodded. “Yes!”

“I’ll have you know that I’m perfectly healthy. I’m just here for a routine checkup to get into the system.”

“Wow! I’m proud of you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

“Well, since you’re claiming that you’re perfectly healthy, this should go pretty quick. We’ll start by getting a few simple vital readings from you first.”

Cho grabbed and aimed a no-contact thermometer at Bucky’s forehead, mumbling a quiet “Ninety eight point six. Perfect.” after it pinged.

She then began wrapping a blood pressure cuff around Bucky’s right bicep. “Uncross your legs for me please.”

“Oh, whoops.” Bucky did as he was told, not really knowing what the point of having his feet flat on the floor was, but not caring enough to question the command either.

“That’s gonna tighten up and squeeze a bit for a few seconds. It shouldn’t be too bad.”

Yeah, I know. I’ve gotten my blood pressure taken before, Bucky thought, but didn’t say anything as the blood pressure cuff whirred to life. Saying so would be rude, and he knew Cho was only trying to help put his mind at ease.

When the machine finished its job, deflating from Bucky’s arm, Cho tapped the results into her StarkPad. “A little high, but not concerningly so. I imagine that’s due to a little White Coat Syndrome.”

Cho pulled the stethoscope from around her neck. “Is it alright if I place the chest piece underneath your clothing while I take a listen to your heart and lungs real quick?”

“Yeah… yeah, that’s fine.” Bucky hadn’t expected her to ask, but he appreciated it none the less.

“Thank you. It’s usually fine when it’s just one shirt, but I know how much you like your layers.” Cho snaked the chest piece down the front of Bucky’s shirts and placed it near his heart. She shifted it slightly every few beats to hear if there were any issues with the valves of his heart. There weren’t. “A little quick, but everything sounds great.”

Cho moved on to Bucky’s lungs, moving steadily down his chest before switching and doing the same with his back. “Breathe in… and out. In… and out. In… and out. Okay, now breathe normally.”

Bucky did his best. Am I breathing normally? Is this how I normally breathe?! Am I going too fast?! Too slow?! Cho wasn’t saying anything though, so he must be doing a good enough job. She wasn’t moving the chest piece anymore though, and for a moment, he worried that she had actually found an issue. “What are you checking now?” He whispered.

“Bucky, shush!” Sam, who had been quietly observing up until now, whisper shouted.

Cho pulled the stethoscope away and removed the earpieces. “I was just checking your respiratory rate. Again, it was a little quick, but I kind of expect that reaction with you.”

Cho pulled out a little penlight to check Bucky’s eyes and nose. She used an otoscope for his ears, and Bucky decided he didn’t like that part one little bit. It was the most nerve-wracking thing they had done so far, and Bucky had to keep his fists clenched at his sides in order to keep one of them from latching onto Cho’s wrist.

While the ear exam wasn’t painful, it felt like the promise of pain was just millimeters away. At any moment, Cho could apply enough pressure to pierce his eardrum, and while Bucky knew she would never intentionally do that, the fear was still there. Accidents happen.

Cho kept talking and asking questions as she went though, and it provided a good distraction. “Is your prosthesis giving you any issues?”

“Huh? Oh, uh… no. It’s fine.”

“Good. If it ever does give you trouble, you’re more than welcome to stop by here, but I would recommend that you contact Shuri. She knows its inner workings far better than I do.”

Bucky sighed in relief when Cho finally pulled the otoscope away. Okay, this is going good. It’s going well. I haven’t hurt anybody. Nobody’s hurt me. It’s not like any of this was fun, but it really wasn’t that bad either.

Cho grabbed her penlight again. “Open your mouth, say ‘ah’.”

Bucky opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out too for good measure. “AHHHHHH!” Was he being obnoxiously loud? Yes. Yes he was. He was feeling pretty good about today up until…

“Hmm.”

Bucky snapped his mouth shut. “‘Hmm’? What’s ‘hmm’?!”

Sam was paying close attention now too.

Cho put her penlight away. “Your tonsils are very swollen.”

“Swollen?!”

“That, or they’re just naturally large. They look a little inflamed though.” Cho began pressing along the lymph nodes on Bucky’s neck. “Do you get sore throats very often?”

Bucky shrugged as much as he could with Cho’s hands along the sides of his neck. “Yeah, I guess. Doesn’t everyone though? I always just assume it’s a little bug. It’s usually gone by the next day.”

“But that happens often?”

Bucky didn’t answer, which was an answer in and of itself.

Cho turned to Sam. “Does he snore?”

Bucky’s indignant “No!” was drowned out by Sam’s firm “Yes.”

“No, I do not snore! …And why are you assuming that we’re sleeping together?!”

“Don’t you?”

“Yes, but it’s rude to make assumptions!”

“It’s possible that your tonsils are causing you to obstruct while you sleep. It could be limiting the amount of oxygen you take in.”

“And god knows this guy needs all the oxygen he can get.” Sam got a punch in the shoulder from Bucky for his comment.

Cho went back to typing away on her StarkPad. “Has anyone ever talked to you about this before?” She knew Hydra definitely hadn’t, but maybe a family or military physician had mentioned something.

“I don’t know… I mean… my doctor growing up might have said something about removing them.” I really shouldn’t have said that. That’s just gonna give her more ammunition. “But the army never said anything about them! They’re fine now!”

“Your pediatrician was right. You should’ve gotten them removed.”

“Oh well, too late now.”

“Not necessarily. Adult tonsillectomies aren’t exactly common, but they are performed.”

Shit. “I… really don’t think that’s necessary.”

Sam rested a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “What would that entail?”

“It would be a minor surgery. General anesthetic. He would come in in the morning, we’d place an IV, get him off to sleep, remove the tonsils, have him wake up, and monitor him for an hour or two. Then, he could go home. He might need to stick to soft food for two weeks, but-”

“Two weeks?!” Bucky did not want to get stuck eating mush for two weeks.

“For the general population, yes. From what I’ve been told, the pain is usually manageable for the first few days. Around day seven or eight is considered the worst, but most people fully recover after two to three weeks. Considering your enhancements, I’d assume that everything would be sped up for you.”

“And when would we do this?”

“Hey, hold on a damn minute!” Bucky shrugged Sam’s hand off his shoulder. “When did I ever say I was on board with this?!”

“Bucky, what was even the point of coming here to the Medbay if you’re not going to take Cho’s advice?!”

“She wasn’t actually supposed to find an issue!”

“Well, she did, so what do you want to do about it?”

Bucky didn’t want to do anything about it. He had made it a hundred and six years without having any real complications. He was sure he would last plenty more with his enlarged tonsils…

… But, what if he got sick during a mission? What if he wasn’t able to perform as well? What if his actions inadvertently led to Sam getting hurt again? Led to Sam getting killed?! Was that a risk Bucky could take, knowing he could do something about it by having this procedure done?

Bucky groaned, dropping his head in his hands. “When would we do this?”

“Preferably not on a day when your throat is bothering you, but other than that, whenever. You and all the Avengers are who this Medbay is for. We run on your schedules.”

Bucky was hoping it could be put off for weeks or months like it was for the rest of the population, then immediately felt bad about it. There were other people out there, far sicker than him, who would give anything for the resources he has.

Regardless, Bucky couldn’t decide for himself though. “I don’t know. Don’t make me choose.” His head was still in his hands, so his voice came out muffled.

Sam took the reins. “We don’t have any missions coming up, so it might be good to get it out of the way sooner rather than later, right? How about Thursday?”

Today was Tuesday. Sam knew tomorrow would be too soon. Bucky would need Wednesday to recover from today’s events and mentally prepare for the upcoming surgery. However, Sam didn’t want to give Bucky too much time to mentally prepare. Waiting until the weekend or even then next week would only give him more time to fret and psyche himself out.

Cho spoke up when it became clear Bucky wasn’t going to. “I think Thursday morning would be fine. I’d like to aim for a 7:45 start time, so a seven o'clock  arrival would be good. I don’t want you having to go too long without food with your enhanced metabolism.”

Cho proceeded to tell them about what to expect. Sam was writing it all down, even though Cho would print the information out for him. Later, he would put in a next day delivery order shipped to Bucky’s apartment. They would need throat numbing spray, gel ice packs, and enough soft or liquid food to feed a supersoldier for however long it took him to heal.

As Cho explained and Sam listened, Bucky stared off into space, stewing. This is not what was supposed to happen today. That’s what I get for trying to face my fears. Now, I’ll have to face the very worst of my fears. He tuned back in for Cho’s closing remarks.

“... explain post-op care instructions to you again before we send you home on Thursday. Other than that though, all that’s left for today is a blood draw, and Melanie will help you with that down in the lab at the end of the hall. Once she’s done, you’re free to go.”

Blood draw?! Ten minutes ago, Bucky might have been able to handle that, but after everything else that had happened, that was going to happen, he was more than past the end of his rope.

“I’ll see you two Thursday morning. Have a great rest of your day!”

Sam thanked Cho, she left, and Bucky scoffed. “How’s that gonna be possible?” So much for being friendly. He trusted Cho, her team, and everything they did for him, but he couldn’t help but resort back to his typical grumpy-old-man self.

Bucky led the way out of the exam room. He looked down the right end of the hall and saw a small sign hanging from the ceiling labeled “Lab”. he looked to the left and saw a big glowing exit sign. He went left.

Sam quickly noticed they were heading in the wrong direction. “I think-”

“Ugh! Can’t they just draw my blood on Thursday?!”

“Honestly, they probably will. But they need it now too so they can check to make sure you’re good for surgery in the first place.”

“Oh please! Having good or bad bloodwork’s never stopped anyone from operating on me before.”

“Maybe not in the past, but Cho’s a good doctor who’ll want you at your best for the procedure. Plus, I know she mentioned you needing an IV on Thursday. You can think of this blood draw as training wheels for the real deal.”

Bucky sighed, then turned around and stormed past Sam towards the lab. He lost all of his heat the closer and closer he got to it though, freezing up entirely when he made it to the doorway.

Sam made sure to scuff his feet as he walked up behind him, not wanting to startle him. His shoes made enough noise to catch the attention of the young blonde woman sitting at a computer desk in the lab.

She swiveled her rolling chair around, revealing a badge with the name “Melanie” on it. “Hi there! Did Cho send you for a blood draw?”

Bucky lowered his head, staring at the floor. “Yeah, I guess, but… I don’t think I need one. They’re gonna do one on Thursday.”

“What’s going on Thursday?”

Bucky went a little green, so Sam answered for him. “He’s getting his tonsils removed.”

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that. Surgery’s never any fun.” From anyone else it might have sounded patronizing, but Melanie only came off as genuine and kind. “Cho and her team are the best though, so don’t you worry.”

Kinda hard not to, Bucky refrained from grumbling.

Melanie turned back around to scroll through her computer screen. “Ah, here’s the order. Looks like she wants to get a blood draw for today.” She stood up and began gathering supplies from around the lab.

Once she had everything she needed, she sat back down on her stool and wheeled over to a wide, cushiony chair with large, adjustable armrests. She patted the left one. “If you’ll just come take a seat for me right over here.”

Bucky didn’t move.

Sam walked over and signaled for him. “C’mon Buck, it’ll be fine. I’ll be right here the whole time.”

Reluctantly, Bucky slowly meandered over to the chair. He lowered himself into it, looking ready to bolt at any minute. He laid his right and left arms out on their respective armrests, and his ears started to ring.

“Bucky, you aren’t looking too good right now.” Melanie sounded like she was underwater, but Bucky was miraculously able to make her words out.

“I’m fine. It’s just been a lot today,” Bucky’s voice sounded muffled. He felt Sam grabbing his shoulders to brace him. To keep him from falling?

“I don’t doubt that. Try to take some deep breaths for me.”

Bucky thought he was breathing just fine, but obviously he wasn’t. His right arm was getting all tingly.

“Do you mind if I swing this left armrest around in front of you?” Melanie was asking, but she was already doing so. Her intentions were to keep him from falling in case he passed out, which he looked about seconds away from doing, but Bucky didn’t see it that way.

In his eyes, she was trying to keep him confined in the chair, trying to restrain him. Bucky shoved the armrest away, breaking it off, and shot out of his seat. Immediately, his vision went black, and he collapsed to the floor, Sam and Melanie shouting his name…

…

…When Bucky came to, he got the feeling he hadn’t been out for long. Knowing the room would be spinning, he kept his eyes closed. Voices were starting to filter back in though. Cho was here now, and it sounded like she was giving Sam instructions while she and Melanie worked.

“-‘s good. Put his feet up on the chair so we can keep his legs elevated. Bucky? Bucky, can you hear us?”

“Yeah…” Bucky answered weakly. He felt out of breath. “Wha’ happened?”

“Sam and Melanie are saying that you passed out before your blood draw?”

Yeah, that sounds about right. He couldn’t even handle a blood draw. How the hell was he going to make it through goddamn surgery in two days?!

“I’ve got to be honest: based on what just happened, I’m a bit concerned about how Thursday’s going to go.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Bucky could tell he was crying, and he cursed himself for being so weak. Damnit! Why is it so hard?! Why can’t I handle this?! Why can’t I just be normal for once?!

“Nono! Don’t apologize! None of this is your fault. I just hate to see how hard all of this is on you.”

“You don’t have to do this, Buck. The blood draw, the surgery, none of it.” Sam wanted to give Bucky an out. He was starting to worry Bucky was only doing all of this because he felt like he was being forced to. If that was the case, Sam felt awful for pushing him this far. I had no idea it would be this bad!

“No, no I want them out!” Bucky’s tonsils bothered him a lot more than he ever let on. He had always just assumed he was stuck with the pain. Learning that they could be removed was both terrifying and liberating at the same time. If he could just make it through this blood draw, make it through surgery, the pain would permanently go away once he healed.

“Alright, but only if you’re sure. I don’t want you thinking you have to put yourself through this for our sake. It’s your decision.”

“I know.” Bucky did know. He knew Sam would never truly force him into doing anything. Neither would Cho. Being reminded of that fact helped him come back to himself. It was finally getting easier to breathe.

Seeing the improvement, Cho moved forward with creating a care plan. “The way I see it, if you really do want to go through with this, you have three choices. Option number one: you go home and rest, and we’ll just do everything on Thursday.”

That option sounded pretty good to Bucky. It wouldn’t on Thursday, but it sounded good now.

“Option number two: we take blood today, you go home and rest, and when you come in on Thursday morning, we’ll place an IV before surgery.”

Option one was still winning by a landslide. Bucky didn’t think he had it in him to get his blood drawn today.

“Option number three: we go ahead and place an IV now, we draw blood, we leave the IV in, and when you come in on Thursday morning, all you have to do is go to sleep. I’m on board with whatever decision you make… even if that means abandoning this altogether.”

Option three… actually sounded kind of nice. Today had turned into a complete shitshow, so he might as well get the rest of the scary, nasty shit out of the way. He wasn’t thrilled about having a tube sticking out of his elbow for the next forty eight hours, but if he could handle getting the IV now, then that would make the coming days a whole lot easier.

Thursday would still present with its own unique set of challenges, but according to Cho, all he had to do was fall asleep. Once that happened, it would be downhill from there. Right?

“Option three.”

“You want to just get the IV out of the way now?” Cho confirmed.

Bucky gulped and nodded. He could hear Cho and Melanie grabbing additional supplies, heard Sam’s knees crack as he sat down beside him.

“You want to try opening your eyes?”

“No, I think it’s helping.”

“Whatever you need, man.” Sam grabbed onto Bucky’s hand and held it. It was cold and clammy, the circulation still poor, and Sam tried to rub some warmth back into it. Poor circulation certainly wasn’t going to make this blood draw go any better.

Bucky heard Cho and Melanie crouching down next to Sam, and his heart stuttered. To distract himself, he focused on his guilt rather than his fear. He felt bad for making them do this on the floor, but he knew he would pass out again the moment he tried doing this in a seated position.

“Okay Bucky, we’re gonna get started here. Just let us know if you need a break. Would you like me to tell you what Cho’s doing?”

“Uh… no. No, please.” Bucky’s voice was shaky. Even if the sound of Melanie’s voice provided another helpful distraction, he didn’t want to have to hear the details.

“Alright then, you just hang in there for us, and it’ll be over soon.”

Bucky nodded, then sucked in a deep breath and held it, bracing himself. He felt Cho tying a band of rubber around his upper arm, felt it pulling at the fine hairs of his skin. He heard the tearing of an alcohol wipe packet, smelled it, felt the cool, wet sensation as it was used to sanitize the crook of his elbow. Sam strengthened his grip on Bucky’s hand. Cho and Melanie grabbed his arm firmly, holding it in place.

Bucky’s mouth was filling with saliva. All of this sensory input was going to make him sick. As soon as she sticks me, I’m going to lose it, I just know it.

“Deep breath, Bucky,” Sam encouraged.

Bucky couldn’t do that though. He was too busy holding the breath he had sucked in a minute ago. He let it out shakily, heaving in a new one when he felt the needle piercing his flesh. The needle was thin, and should have been unnoticeable once it broke through the skin, but Bucky could feel the cold metal of it wriggling around in his arm, searching for a vein.

Bucky tensed. This was just like with the otoscope. It really wasn’t painful at all, but at any moment, it could strike a nerve, sending a bolt of agony radiating through his nervous system.

“Bucky, you have to breathe! C’mon, man! The IV’s already in!”

Bucky’s eyes opened in surprise. “What?!”

“The IV’s in. The needle’s gone. There’s no need to be scared anymore.”

Sam had never lied to him before, but Bucky couldn’t believe it. That hadn’t even hurt. Surely the IV isn’t in yet?! But Bucky could hear the vials being uncapped, filled, and recapped. He didn’t look down, knowing the sight of his own dark blood would send another wave of nausea washing over him, but it confirmed that the IV was indeed in.

Huh, that wasn’t so bad.

Sam snorted. “Says the guy who passed out a few minutes ago.”

Bucky must have said that out loud. He flushed with embarrassment at the reminder of his earlier childish behavior.

“Don’t feel bad, Bucky.” Melanie reassured. “Lots of people struggle with needles, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s all behind you now though. We’ll get this sealed off, and when you come in on Thursday, you’ll be good to go. The hard part’s over.”

The hard part’s over. I did it. If I could get through this, then I can get through Thursday.

Chapter Text

Bucky was laying back in his hospital bed, rapidly drumming his fingertips against the bedsheets. Sam was sitting in a chair beside him, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. He would smile or huff out a laugh every once in a while, turning the screen Bucky’s way so he could see whatever funny meme he had just come across.

Bucky would force a laugh whenever the screen was aimed his way, but he never read or listened to or attentively watched whatever goofy shit Sam was trying to show him. How could Bucky find anything funny right now when everything was so terrifying?

Unfortunately for Bucky, all of his blood work had come back normal. He had passed every test with flying colors, and was apparently a great candidate for today’s procedure. Lucky me.

Upon arrival at the Medbay, only a few minutes late on account of nearly having a nervous breakdown in the lobby, Bucky was further disheartened to learn that today would not actually be as simple as showing up and falling asleep.

First offense: they made him change into a gown! It was thin and scratchy and ugly and uncomfortable, and he hated it. He didn’t see why he needed to change into it when everything they would be operating on was in his mouth, but they had insisted, and he had begrudgingly put it on.

Second offense: they hooked him up to a bunch of monitors. He had protested, asking why they needed to do so after they had literally just checked everything a few days ago. Apparently, it was important for the surgeon and anesthetist to be able to see that Bucky’s heart was beating and his vital organs were being adequately perfused at all times. Whatever.

Third and final offense: they had made him sign some digital forms that proved he was consenting to the procedure. Well, duh! Of course I’m consenting to the procedure! I’m here, aren’t I?! All of the extra bureaucratic bullshit was so stupid and pointless to him.

Afterwards, Bucky and Sam had been left alone while Cho’s team finished setting up the operating room. The longer Bucky had to wait, the more time he had to freak out.

Against Sam’s wishes, and against his better judgement, Bucky had been up late last night, scrolling through Reddit posts on adult tonsillectomies. There were plenty of people who said their recovery wasn’t that bad, but there were just as many wishing death upon their ENTs for putting them through it.

Bucky didn’t know who he was supposed to believe. Given his typical lack of luck, he expected the latter for himself, but he was hoping for the former. C’mon, universe! Throw me a bone for once!

There was no door to knock on this time, just a flimsy curtain to pull back, so Cho announced herself before entering. “Morning, guys!”

It was Sam and Bucky’s first time seeing Cho today. It had all been her nurses so far. Sam repeated the salutation to her, and Bucky mumbled out a good morning of his own. A better patient would have smiled, would have been more friendly and trusting.

Then again, trying to be more friendly and trusting had kind of gone out the window the moment Cho had said “Hmm” the other day.

“We’re all ready back there, so now’s the time for any goodbyes or see-you-laters.”

Sam stood easily, like this is how he had expected things to go. He leaned over the rail of Bucky’s bed, told him he loved him, wished him luck, and planted a kiss on Bucky’s forehead when Bucky made no moves to meet his lips with his own.

Bucky didn’t say anything in response, what Cho had just said stuck on a loop in his brain. “Wait. He’s not- Can’t he go back with me?”

Cho was apologetic. “Unfortunately, he cannot. Everything has to be kept sterile back there.”

That logic didn’t make a whole lot of sense to Bucky. “He’s as sterile or non-sterile as I am. What difference does it make?”

“It’ll be okay, Bucky. I’ll be there when you wake up.”

“But I need you there when I fall asleep too!” There had already been way too many unknown todays. Bucky needed Sam by his side, or he might lose it on Cho’s team. “If you’re not, I might- I could-”

“Okay, okay!” Cho stepped in, not wanting Bucky to get any further agitated than he already was. They didn’t need a repeat of Tuesday. “It’s unorthodox, but I suppose we could put you to sleep out here.”

“Really?!” Bucky hadn’t considered that option.

“Yes. We’ll only give you enough medicine to put you to sleep. Not enough to knock out your respiratory dr-”

“Alright, that’s enough. I’m good.” Bucky didn’t want to hear anymore. Couldn’t hear anymore about what his body was about to be subjected to.

Cho shot a quick text to her anesthetist, and minutes later, a man in full surgical garb came walking into the pre-op bay with two loaded syringes in his hand. He had his mask pulled down, which was the only thing keeping Bucky from spiraling into a complete panic.

He handed the syringes off to Cho, and she uncapped the one with a grey sticker labeled “Lidocaine”  before screwing it into one of the luer lock ports on Bucky’s IV tubing. “We’ll start with the lidocaine first. It’s just a numbing medication. It can burn a little going in, and you might get a ringing in your ears, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

Bucky had gotten that sensation Tuesday. Would this be like that? Like passing out?! But that couldn’t be right. Cho hadn’t even given him the knock-out drugs yet.

He watched her push the drugs in, but couldn’t tell when it would be hitting his system. There was no visual difference between lidocaine and the bag of saline solution they had hooked him up to when he had first arrived.

He could feel it now though. It was almost like his arm was cramping. He grabbed onto Sam’s hand, hoped he wasn’t gripping tight enough to break bones or bruise skin.

Cho grabbed the next syringe. It was labeled with a bright yellow sticker that read “Propofol.” It looked like milk, and Bucky hated that he would be able to see exactly when it entered his body. He turned his face away and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Alright, we’re gonna get you off to sleep now.”

Against his will, a choked off sob erupted from Bucky’s throat.

“Aww, Bucky. Please don’t cry.” Sam would have run a hand through Bucky’s cropped hair, but he had already been fit with a surgical cap.

All of this was heartbreaking to watch. Bucky was the strongest, toughest person Sam knew by a mile, so seeing him shed tears when he never would otherwise was a testament to how petrifying this ordeal was for him.

“I’m not crying!” Bucky insisted, crying. “It’s these stupid meds! They’re making me cry!”

Sam didn’t think that was a side effect these meds could cause, but he went along with it for Bucky’s sake.

Bucky’s panted breaths were slowing down, laboring as he began to lose consciousness. He was fighting the drugs, then fighting himself for fighting the drugs. Just let it happen! Just let go! Just let this be over! It was exhausting, and now felt like a really good time to take a nap…

Bucky’s eyes closed, then flew open again at a sudden realization. Shit… I didn’t… tell Sam that I… love him back! But it was too late. Bucky got so far as a “S’” before he lost the ability to speak.

As he drifted off, he could feel his bed jolting as it was unlocked, could feel it start rolling beneath him as the anesthetist reassured Sam. “Don’t worry, Mr. Wilson. We’ll take really good…”

…

Bucky woke up in a recovery room feeling extremely sleepy, but pain free. He supposed he was tonsil free too. He thought Cho kept him around for an hour or two, but maybe it was a day or two, a year or two. He couldn’t tell all that well. Time was moving really strangely at the moment.

He hoped Sam was listening to all of the tedious, boring post-op recovery instructions. God knows he wasn’t. He was too entranced by the colorful squiggles and numbers on the health monitor. That one went up… but that one went down… everything needs to be one hundred… one hundred percent… best score… how do I make them all one hundred percent?

Bucky didn’t remember how they got there, but suddenly, he was sitting in the passenger seat of Sam’s truck. They were driving for a while. Lots of trees. Pine trees. Christmas trees? Is it Christmas? Did I get Sam a gift? I wonder what he got me? Never mind it was the middle of summer.

When they made it into the city, he watched a trio of giant bananas go bouncing down the sidewalk. Sam kept trying to talk to him, gauge how he was doing. Bucky thought he was doing dandy. Surgery was over, his tonsils were gone, he wasn’t in any pain, and he wasn’t high. He definitely wasn’t high.

At his apartment, Bucky wanted to take the six flights of stairs up to his floor like he always did, but Sam forced him onto the elevator, worried he might stumble or tire. Sam kept him shielded from the eyes of any curious neighbors as they made their way to the door.

Bucky pulled out his keyring. There had only ever been two keys on it: one for his apartment, and one for his motorcycle, but for some reason, there were twelve on it now. He struggled to find the right one, till Sam snatched them away and found the right one on his first try. Wow Sam, you’re a really smart guy.

Once inside, while Sam hung up the keys and put away their wallets, Bucky immediately went to look for his box of decorations. He wasn’t much of a decorator, so a whole year’s worth of holidays fit neatly in one box. A wooden door hanger of a white rabbit eating a carrot caught his eye. Easter. It’s Easter, right? That’s what we’re celebrating?

“Bucky? What’re you up to?” Sam rested a gentle hand on the back of Bucky’s right shoulder.

“Decorating.”

“Okay… why don’t you go sit on the couch and rest for a bit? I’m gonna bring you something to eat.” Sam hoped that getting some food into Bucky’s system would help him snap out of… whatever this was.

Sam helped guide Bucky over to the couch, which he flopped down onto. Sam winced, worried the jarring movement would hurt, but Bucky didn’t seem bothered.

When it became clear Bucky wasn’t about to roll over and fall off the couch, Sam made his way over to the pantry area. “What do you want?”

For a long time, Bucky didn’t answer, and Sam thought he had fallen asleep. Finally: “...What do you mean?”

“To eat. I’m getting you something to eat, remember?”

“Funyuns!”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Those are-”

“The Funyuns, Sam! Bring me the Funyuns!” Bucky demanded, draping his metal arm across his forehead.

“You’re not eating Funyuns! Cho said to avoid crunchy foods, and I’m pretty sure chips are some of the crunchiest foods of all.” Sam picked something random from the pantry, realizing Bucky wasn’t going to be any help. He grabbed a spoon too before returning to the couch. “You get pudding.”

Bucky let his metal arm drop and sat up. “Pistachio pudding?”

“No, it’s a little…” Sam glanced at the packaging again. “Chocolate snack pack.”

“Pistachio.”

“No Bucky, it’s not pistachio.” Sam peeled back the pudding pack’s aluminum, plastic lid. “I didn’t buy any pistachio. I don’t think that’s even a flavor they sell in snack pack portions.”

Well, they should. Someone needs to get on that. “Pistachio.”

Sam was very quickly losing his patience. “Bucky, even if we had pistachio, which we don’t, there’s usually nuts mixed in with that pudding. You can’t have nuts right now.”

I can’t… nuts? I can’t nut?! “Pistachio.”

“Fine! I’ll get you some pistachio pudding! Once you’re healed, you can eat it. Sound good?”

“Pistachio.”

“Here!” Sam shoved the snack pack and spoon in Bucky’s hands. “Just eat your damn pudding!”

Bucky loaded up his spoon and shoveled the big bite into his mouth before Sam could stop him.

“Go slow!”

Bucky swallowed, his face twisting in a grimace.

“Did that hurt?”

“No.” Bucky replied stubbornly.

“Then what’s with the grimace?”

“I didn’t grimace.” Bucky took another bite, smaller this time, swallowed it, and pulled the same expression.

“Oh, so that’s just your normal face?”

“Yes.” Bucky scraped along the edges of the snack pack with his spoon. He brought the spoon to his face, opened his mouth, then closed it again, staring suspiciously at the pudding. “I thought you said this was pistachio?”

Sweet Jesus. “No, I said it was chocolate.” Before Bucky could get stuck on the pudding flavor again, Sam went to grab Bucky’s pain meds and a bottle of blue gatorade. Thankfully, whatever flavor the blue gatorade was, it was the only flavor Bucky liked. Sam would be spared from another one of Bucky’s inquisitions.

Bucky traded his now empty snack pack and dirty spoon for the pills and gatorade Sam held out for him. He frowned at the pills. “What’re these?”

“They’re your pain meds.”

“But I’m not in any pain.”

“I know. That’s ‘cause you already have painkillers in your system. We need to replenish them before they wear off.”

That does make a lot of sense. Bucky popped the pills into his mouth and chased them with a swig of gatorade.

“Make sure you drink that whole bottle. Cho said it was important that you stay hydrated.”

Bucky diligently set to finishing the entire bottle, then fell asleep after his meal. When he woke up a few hours later, he was feeling a little sore, but thankfully, for both his and Sam’s sake, he wasn’t loopy anymore.

Sam brought him over a cup full of ice chips to suck on, and two gel ice packs to press into the sides of his neck. He wrapped him up in a big, fluffy blanket when the ice packs made him cold. The goosebumps faded and the shivers stopped as Sam set up a Pixar movie marathon for them to watch.

…

Once the pair fell into a routine, Bucky’s recovery went fairly well.

Sam made sure he was getting plenty of fluids to drink, plenty of soft foods to eat, and all of his pain meds and antibiotics on a regular basis. Getting Bucky to gargle salt water and brush his teeth was the most difficult part.

Bucky never wanted to. Opening his sore jaw that wide for an extended period of time was extremely uncomfortable. Plus, though he would never admit it out loud for Sam to hear, he was scared.

According to Cho, and then Sam, because Bucky hadn’t been listening when Cho was explaining everything, they hadn’t used any stitches during the procedure, just cautery. Essentially, that meant the only thing holding his throat together was a delicate layer of burnt flesh. Bucky didn’t want to risk aggravating the scabs and accidentally popping them open, so he avoided brushing and gargling as much as he could.

However, when Sam explained to him that not practicing good oral hygiene would increase the risk of infection, Bucky changed his tune. He sucked it up, did what he was told, and after a few days, it didn’t feel so threatening anymore.

One of the most annoying aspects of Bucky’s recovery was the fact that he had to sleep propped up on two extra pillows. The elevation was supposed to minimize swelling, but Bucky had his doubts because he still felt and looked puffy as a chipmunk.

What really didn’t help was the fact that Sam had set a few different alarms that went off during the night. It bugged Bucky to no end, but whenever he complained, Sam reminded him that being woken up was a lot better than missing a pain med dose or sleeping through a hemorrhage event.

For Bucky, the pain peaked four days after surgery. It was the most miserable day by far, and he couldn’t help but whine, “I don’t get it. To get rid of my sore throats, Cho gave me the mother of all sore throats?!” He stopped talking after that. It was too painful, and it only made everything worse.

He couldn’t even nod or shake his head when Sam asked him a question. Thumbs up or thumbs down was all he could do, and thumbs down was all he did do. Whatever Sam asked him was always met with a negative response.

Constant ice chips, constant ice packs, and an entire bottle of throat numbing spray did fuck all. The scabs were naturally starting to peel off, and the sheer nastiness of them had Bucky gagging.

Swallowing was too painful, not that Bucky was going to swallow them. That would get him instantly vomiting for sure, and he could only imagine how painful that whole process would be. He wanted to spit them out, but the action was too painful.

Sam brought pills and a gatorade bottle up to his lips, but Bucky kept them tightly sealed. He couldn’t turn his head away though.

Sam backed off, frustrated, but mainly worried. “Bucky, c’mon man. You have to take these. It’s the only way the pain’s gonna stop.”

Bucky laid back on the couch, closing his eyes and giving a thumbs down.

Sam readjusted the ice packs so they reached the hinge of Bucky’s jaw. “Do you want me to call Cho?” He wasn’t saying it as a threat. He genuinely thought they needed help. It was late in the afternoon, and Bucky hadn’t eaten or drank anything since before bed last night.

Two thumbs down.

“She might be able to help,” Sam reasoned. “I don’t know what else I can do. I don’t think anything’s bleeding or infected or anything, but if you can’t take your pills, she might be able to give you a shot or something.”

The last thing Bucky wanted to do was reacquaint himself with needles, but this pain was getting unbearable. It was starting to radiate into the rest of his skull, giving him an excruciating headache. He’d take anything at this point.

Bucky finally gave a weak thumbs up, and Sam gave Cho a call. She was kind enough to come out and do a home visit, and Sam was grateful. There was no way Bucky would be able to tolerate a car ride or any amount of walking right now.

Bucky didn’t have the energy to get himself worked up when Cho began setting him up with a new IV. He was so eager for the promised relief the pain meds would bring that he couldn’t even be bothered.

Despite the dehydration that was steadily setting in, Cho didn’t have too much trouble finding a vein, and Bucky was on IV fluids and pain meds before he knew it. He sighed in relief as the pain ebbed away.

Those had been rough seas, but it had been smooth sailing from there. They were on day eight now, and Bucky was almost fully healed. They were starting to reintegrate more solid foods back into his diet.

Sam had prepared pancakes and scrambled eggs for breakfast, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch, and some pasta for dinner. They were still avoiding all things crunchy, but Sam could sense there were Funyuns on the horizon.

It was time for dessert, and Sam got up from the dinner table to grab what he had prepared from the fridge. Bucky had finally made the transition from eating on the couch to eating at the table yesterday.

Sam pulled a big, blue, plastic bowl from one of the refrigerator’s upper shelves. He lofted it high in the air as he brought it over.

Bucky gave a mock gasp. “Is that what I think it is?!”

“You bet your ass it is.”

“For me?!”

“As promised…” Sam set the giant bowl of pistachio pudding down in front of Bucky. “Ta-da!”

Bucky rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “You’re the best!”

“I know.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t go getting a swelled head.” Bucky dug in with a big bite. He was glad he was finally able to eat fast again. He had a voracious appetite, and eating so slowly had been a huge pain in the ass this past week.

“It good?”

Bucky nodded, giving a thumbs up. He couldn’t remember the last time he had had this, but it was just as tasty as he remembered.

“You mind if I have a bite?” Sam was reaching forward with a spoon, and Bucky used his own spoon like a sword to deflect it away.

He pulled the bowl closer to himself, shielding it from Sam’s utensil. “I’m sorry, did you have major surgery?”

“You didn’t have major surgery. Cho called it a minor surgery.”

“Every surgery’s major for me.”

Ain’t that the truth… “Hey, wait a sec! I did have major surgery! Three months ago!”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

You’re the one who brought it up. “Does that mean I get to have some?”

Bucky kept the bowl close before finally relenting, sliding it closer to the center of the table. “Fine, get in here.”

“Thanks.” Sam gathered some of the chilled pudding on his spoon. “No more surgeries for either of us. Major or minor. Deal?”

“Deal.” They toasted their spoons before enjoying the rest of their dessert.