Chapter Text
You sighed as you let yourself sag against the wall, looking around your spic-and-span lobby with pride. You had now owned your own animal clinic for an entire month, something that was easier said than done. Years of schooling and hard work had finally paid off, and you were now working to make a name for yourself as a veterinarian.
There had been some offers from different clinics that wanted to hire you on, but you had wanted to have your own business since you were a child. It was just better that way, even though you couldn't explain exactly why.
But it had all paid off. Here you were, standing in your brand new, shining clinic that was located in the middle of Manhattan, a swell of pride in your chest. You had hired a secretary, two technicians, and a veterinary assistant already, but you still helped them clean up every evening if you could.
Your employees had left for the evening already, and you went to your desk to catch up on some paperwork and inventory. It was late at night, but you didn't have anything else to do. You sat there in your chair, playing music on your phone as you figured up prices on medicine and other supplies. The phone rang suddenly, making your heart jump as the shrill ring shattered the calm silence. You quickly paused your music and picked up the phone.
"Manhattan Animal Clinic, this is Dr. (L/N). How may I help you?" You tried to sound professional.
"Dr. (L/N), we have an emergency. My friend's puppy got attacked by another dog, her leg is hurt really bad. I know it's after hours, but please, you're the only clinic we could get to answer." The masculine voice was all but begging. Whoever the man was, he sounded panicked.
"Of course, sir. I'll unlock the front door and wait for you there." You stood and hurried to the front of the clinic to make sure that whoever this was could get in.
"Guys!" You heard the caller address someone else. "Get Blondie, I found someone to check her out! Thank you so much, Doctor!" The call ended, and you realized that you had failed to ask what the man's name was. Damn.
You unlocked the door, flicked on the lights, and began getting one of the exam rooms ready. In just a few minutes, you heard the bell on the front door, and you hurried back to the lobby. There, you were greeted by quite a shocking site.
Steve Rogers, also known to the world as Captain America, stood beside another famous (perhaps infamous) man you assumed to be Bucky Barnes. Tony Stark, only one of the most recognized billionaires in the world was flanking them, along with Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, Thor, Bruce Banner, Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, and Sam Wilson. Apparently, they noticed your jaw slightly agape.
"Dr. (L/N), I presume?" Captain America stepped forwards, extending his hand. Before he thought you were rude, you slowly accepted the handshake.
"Yes, sir," you smiled shakily. "That would be me."
"Never told me that the doc was a sexy young lady, Cap," Tony chuckled as he combed his fingers in his hair, checking his reflection in the freshly cleaned door. "Tony Stark. Nice to meet you, sweetheart." You accepted his handshake as well.
"Excuse me," the quiet brunette interrupted the greetings. He was cradling an adorable golden retriever puppy, the little furry bundle whimpering softly. "Would you mind going ahead and checking her out?"
"Oh, of course, Mr. Barnes. That is correct, isn't it?" You smiled brightly at him, then motioned for the group to follow you into the exam room. "Who do you have with you?" You gestured at the ball of golden fur.
"This is Blondie," he answered softly. He was a little shocked that someone knew his name and didn't run from him screaming.
"May I take her for a moment?" You held out your hands. When you saw the nervous hesitation in his eyes, you smiled. "It'll only be for a moment. I need to weigh her."
"Bucky, it's alright," Natasha spoke up. "She knows what she's doing."
Bucky glanced over at Wanda, wide eyes silently begging for some reassurance. Your head felt a little fuzzy for a moment, then Wanda nodded.
"It's okay. She will not hurt her."
That seemed to comfort the metal-armed man, and he slowly placed the puppy into your hands. You weighed her, scribbling down the number before setting her on the exam table. You took a quick temperature, chewing at your lower lip at the reading. 104.3... That wasn't good.
"See, Thor, that's what happens when you go to doctors here on Earth," you heard Clint explain to the big blond.
"Shut up, Barton," Bruce reprimanded. "We don't need him refusing medical attention more than he already does."
"Wait, they really do that?" Pietro asked, eyes wide.
"Pietro, you've been seen by doctors before," Sam Wilson groaned. "Did they ever shove a thermometer up your ass?"
"They're always like this," Steve grinned at you apologetically, then seemed to notice your slightly worried expression. "Well, what's the verdict?"
You were carefully looking the puppy's mangled front left leg over as Bucky held her, stroking her fur with his right hand, his fingers gently rubbing her ears as if he were afraid he might break her.
"It's...it's not good," you met the blond super soldier's gaze. "She isn't acting like it hurts her when I move or palpate her leg." You picked up a pair of clamps and tested each soft little puppy toe by squeezing them. Nothing.
"So what does that mean?" Tony leaned his elbows on the table, watching you.
"It means that she has suffered quite a bit of nerve damage. From the looks of things and from what I can feel without taking an x-ray, I imagine she has a pretty nasty break in this leg as well."
Bucky swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving your face. This wasn't what he wanted to hear. It wasn't what any of them had wanted to hear. The Avengers had all gotten attached to this fluffy little puppy, even though it was technically his dog.
"What can you do for her?" Pietro asked, reaching out a finger to stroke the little dog's back.
"That leg has to come off, and it would be best if it came off now."
All eyes swung to you. You had ten pairs of eyes fixed on you, unwavering. It was more than enough to make you feel uncomfortable; 10 of the most potentially dangerous people in the world didn't look too happy with you.
"You can't fix it...?" Bucky asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I could fix the break, though the surgery to pin everything back in place would be very involved and drawn out. And that wouldn't do anything for all her severed nerves. She would drag her leg around and eventually rub the flesh off her feet. It would be best if the leg came off," you explained, as calmly as possible.
"Come on, Barnes," Sam urged. "You have to do what's best for the little gal. If we can't save the leg, we can at least save her." He looked up at you. "You can save her, right?"
You nodded. "Provided I get that leg off before infection gets going and starts causing secondary problems. She will be okay, Mr. Barnes. Animals adapt very quickly to changes such as this."
Bucky looked down at his puppy that was nestled in his arms. He took in a deep breath, then nodded slowly. "How soon can you do it? Could you do it right now?"
"Now?" You glanced at the clock, and chewed on your lip. Well, you hadn't had anything better to do.
"Alright. I can do it. I can't have all of you in here though, I'm afraid. Why don't some of you wait out in the lobby?" You became all business as you swept about the room, grabbing a surgery pack, moving the surgery light, and getting scalpel blades and suture ready.
"Capsicle? Why don't me, you, and Buckster stay in here?" Tony suggested. "Rest of you go sit down and play 20 Questions or something?" He looked at you again. "How long do you figure this will take?"
"I would guess about 2 1/2 to 3 hours," you answered, not stopping your prep work. "By the time I get her under anesthesia and prep that leg, not to mention the amount of time it takes to do something like this, it'll be rather time consuming." You drew up a general sedative, calculating the dose for the puppy's weight.
As you approached the puppy once again, you saw Bucky Barnes' arms close around the young dog even more protectively.
"Mr. Barnes, I need to give her this injection. Alright?" You offered him another smile. "It will make her go to sleep, and then I can get her going on oxygen and some gas anesthesia."
"Buck, let her do it," Steve patted his friend's shoulder soothingly.
Bucky glanced at Steve, then at you, then carefully moved his arms away. You slipped the needle into the muscle of the puppy's back leg and injected the sedative, smoothly withdrawing it afterwards. The fuzzball didn't even make a peep.
The others had filed out into the lobby, and you started to fear for the lobby's safety as you heard the group start to cut up. You ignored it though and rolled the gas machine into the room, and made sure the heart monitor was up and running. You dug through your trach tubes, found the proper size for the puppy, and got it ready to place. After a couple of minutes, the puppy relaxed against the table. You gave her a second injection, then began giving her injections of penicillin. Steve and Tony had sat down, but Bucky still stood at the table, his hand methodically rubbing the drowsy pup's head. You grabbed your flashlight and the trach tube, moving to the puppy's head.
"Mr. Barnes, can you do me a favor?" You glanced up at him.
"Just call me Bucky," he grumbled. "I...I guess I can...?"
You took his left hand, not stopping to notice his change of expression or to worry about the fact that it was metal, and you guided his thumb and forefinger to rest under the puppy's top lip, right behind her canine teeth.
"Can you hold right there and open her mouth for me, please? I need to put this tube in, it will make the surgery a lot safer."
He nodded and did as you asked him to. You gently grasped the puppy's tongue, pulling it down and out of the way as you held your flashlight in your mouth. Angling the light down the little throat, you carefully slid the tube down her trachea. Once satisfied with the placement, you inflated the cuff, tied the tube into place, and hooked it up to the hose of the gas machine. You turned on the oxygen, then smiled at Bucky.
"That was good. Thank you for helping me," you praised, trying to keep him from worrying about his puppy as much as possible.
You began shaving the top part of the maimed leg and her shoulder, going underneath and to the front of her chest as well. You vacuumed up the hair, scrubbed the surgery site well, scrubbed yourself, gloved up, put on your surgery cap and face mask, and began placing drapes around the small leg, clamping them down into place.
"I- You don't mind if I stay right here, do you...?" Bucky asked, voice barely above a whisper. If half the things you had heard about him were true, he had every right to be so on edge all the time. Poor guy.
You nodded, not looking up from arranging your surgery instruments. "Of course. Just don't touch anything, please. I need for this all to stay sterile."
He smiled softly, the first smile you had seen from him all evening, and your insides all but turned into goo. He was something else when he smiled...
You made the first incision right at the elbow joint, your scalpel blade gliding smoothly through. You cut carefully through each layer of tissue. You hit a small vessel suddenly, and blood spurted up in a needle-thin fountain.
"Oh God, that's sick," you heard Tony groan, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him lower his head into his hand, his elbow resting on his crossed knee.
"For such a loud mouth, you certainly have a weak stomach," Steve chuckled.
Bucky merely watched, almost entranced by your movements as you clamped off the vessel and began ligating it to stop the bleeding. Every action was precise and swift. You were sure of yourself, of the skill in your fingers and the knowledge you had.
"This might get a little messy," you warned as you began cutting through the bone and the joint.
"What, throwing blood everywhere isn't messy enough?" Tony asked, but you could hear the teasing in his tone. The door cracked open, and glancing up, you saw Clint's face poking in. It blanched at the sight of the mostly removed leg, and he quickly pulled his head back once again.
"That's fuckin' gross," you heard him announce to the others, who all simply laughed at him.
Finally, you had the leg off and began closing everything back up, replacing the layers of tissue and muscle with painstaking care. You placed a drain tube right above the incision, stitched it into place, and then finished closing up the wound. You cleaned up the bloody stump, used tissue glue to make sure the bleeding was stopped, and finally, you slumped back against the counter, gloved hands bloody, but a triumphant smile under your mask.
"You're all done?" Steve looked up from the book he had brought along with him.
"Yes, sir," you nodded as you began cleaning up your mess. You turned off the anesthesia gas, leaving the puppy on the oxygen to ensure that she would recover properly.
You peeled off your gloves, threw them away, and got rid of your mask and cap, pushing your hair back with your fingers with a weary sigh. The puppy slowly began to stir, and you smiled as Bucky focused all his attention on her, petting the tiny head with a single finger, talking softly into the velvety ear.
"Would you mind if I kept her here overnight? Just to make sure she recovers okay?" You worried about whether or not Bucky would agree, and you swallowed nervously as his steely gaze swept up to meet yours. It was silent for a while, then, he slowly nodded.
"Alright... Can-can I come back tomorrow afternoon for her...?"
"Of course," you smiled. "I just want to keep an eye her and give her some medicine for pain in the morning. I'll send more home with you as well when you get her, along with some antibiotics."
Tony sat up, stretching in his chair. He had dozed off, and he yawned loudly before looking at you with sleepy eyes and sexily mussed up hair.
"How much do we owe you, Doc?"
"Huh?" You had been so wrapped up in your work, that you hadn't even considered the bill.
"Hell, I'd pay you twenty grand if it meant that Frosty here wouldn't go nuts on whatever poor sap owned the dog that attacked Blondie," Stark chuckled.
"Give me just a moment," you laughed. "I don't believe it will be quite that much." You began figuring things up and adding them together on the calculator. "250," you answered finally. "For the surgery, the after-hours emergency, the medicine, and the overnight stay."
"Wait, are you joking?" Steve was staring at you. "That's it...?"
Your eyebrow arched up. "Should I charge more...?"
"No," the blond began, "I was just expecting something a lot more...I don't know, worse?"
"She isn't very big, it didn't require as much time as it would have if she had been grown," you explained. "Besides, I would be a terrible vet if I was just in the business to make money."
"Honey, I appreciate your honesty the damn fine job you did." Tony stood up, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. He pulled out some bills, counted them out, then stuffed them into your hand. "500 cash. Keep the change. You deserve it."
"But-but I-" You started to protest, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Talk to the ass, cause the face ain't gonna listen," Tony chuckled as he strode out of the room.
"Thank you very much, Doc." Steve shook your hand, then patted the groggy puppy before he left."
Bucky was there alone, now, staring down at you in silence. Suddenly, he moved forwards, quickly enough to make you flinch. His arms wrapped around you and he hugged you tightly, his face pressing into your neck.
"Thank you," he whispered. He kept you in his embrace for a moment, then pulled back, looking sheepish. "I'll...I'll see you tomorrow then...?"
You nodded, partially in shock from the fact that a world-wide feared ex-assassin had just hugged you and snuggled you.
He leaned down, placed a kiss on the young dog's head, then gave you a ghost of a smile before leaving the room. You heard the bell again, the group chattering loudly as they left, asking how everything went, was Blondie okay, could they go get schwarma?
You stood silently, a goofy smile on your face. You removed the trach tube from the puppy, turned off the oxygen, then took her off to get her bedded down and comfortable for the night. Your life might have just gotten a lot more interesting.