Thanks for all those who are reading. Hope you are enjoying the story.
This is a pretty short chapter. I had hoped to make it longer but my sister's family is coming tomorrow. Her 5 year old will barely let me out of her sight so I don't anticipate a lot of writing getting done for the next 10 days. (They are so worth it though) :) So it was either a short chapter now or a longer chapter in about 2 weeks.
Again, thanks for reading!
Agent Hill disappeared briefly with Agent Greyson. She reappeared a few minutes later and watched the scene between Bucky and Steve thoughtfully until Steve was forced to retreat to a corner.
She walked over to him.
"I need to go make some arrangements. I assume you're staying here?" Her answer was a shaky smile.
She nodded and left again.
Steve never took his eyes off Bucky, even as he moved to a corner of the room to stay out of the way of the medical team. He was struck by how small Bucky looked on the table. When they first found his friend in that house in Austin he had been covered in layers, and curled in on himself. When he'd seen Bucky strapped to the table with a knife at his throat all he seemed to be able to focus on was the drawn face and dull eyes. But now that the danger had cleared and Steve could really study him…his friend looked terrible. In the stark light Steve could practically see every rib, bruises and scars littered his upper body. He could imagine the kind of care, or lack of that Bucky had received the past few months, maybe past 70 years.
Sam came to stand quietly beside him. "I know its hard, man, watching someone you care about go through what he has."
"I feel selfish Sam." Steve admitted quietly.
"What do you mean?
"He's gone through so much, practically hell, and I'm…just, just happy he's alive. It probably would have been better for him to have died, but I can't even bring myself to think that." Steve kept his voice low. "I just keep looking at him thinking, "Bucky's back"."
"That's normal, maybe the only normal thing about this mess." Sam tried to laugh but it ended up sounding forced. He hesitated. "Steve, you know…he may never be the person you remember. Every event in our life changes us, some are barely noticeable but others…I mean like this…" He waved his hand vaguely.
"I know." Steve nodded. He understood. He just hoped Sam understood it didn't matter.
Sam was silent, then, "You know my offer to help didn't end with finding him." Apparently he did understand. "I deal with PTSD every day. I have books and videos for vets and their family and friends. Hell, you can bring him to a group session if you think that would help."
Steve smile gratefully, "Thanks, Sam"
Steve noticed the change in Bucky's demeanor almost immediately. The nurse had just started to stitch his shoulder wound when his eyes flew open and he went rigid. Up until that point Bucky would open his eyes every few minutes and they would move lazily around the room, stopping when they rested on Steve before slipping closed again.
Now, he was trying to remain stoic, but Steve could see his eyes darting back and forth, his breathing getting shallower and more panicked as he was poked and prodded.
Steve watched helplessly for a few seconds warring with himself trying to decide between staying put or going forward to try and calm Bucky. He honestly wasn't sure if having one more person hovering over him while he was strapped down would help or hurt.
To heck with it. He thought, abandoning his corner in favor of Bucky's side. He placed his hand on Bucky's arm trying to stay out of the nurses' way so they would have no reason to dislodge him. Bucky flinched at the contact and pulled at the restraints again.
"You're ok, Bucky." Steve said softly. "It's going to get better. We're trying to help you."
"Get me another sedative in here." The nurse stitching his shoulder called over her shoulder.
Steve's lips tightened and he glanced up. "Do you have to?"
The nurse gave him a sad, sympathetic smile. "It would be for the best." Steve's gaze didn't waver. She sighed.
"If you can calm him down, we'll wait on it."
Steve didn't answer but looked back down at Bucky again.
"You gotta calm down, man." Bucky didn't seem to be hearing him. He was panting and his eyes were rolling around looking for who knows what. Steve risked putting a hand on his check to turn Bucky's face to look at him. He cringed at the clammy skin beneath his palm but forced a smile as Bucky's eyes caught his.
"You're safe, Bucky, I promise. Just need you to breathe. They're fixing your shoulder up. I bet it's been a pain. You'll be good as new in no time." He smiled again as disarmingly as he could because Bucky was still staring at him. His brow was furrowed like he was concentrating, trying to remember.
Steve rubbed up and down his arm, hoping to work some heat into them. "You ok, Bucky?"
The Soldier's expression eased up a fraction. "Steve…?" His voice came out shaky and confused.
Steve couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, it's me. We're gonna get you through this, I promise. You can do it." He kept physical contact with Bucky while speaking gentle reassurances. The nurse smiled up at him as Bucky gradually calmed down.
Happy Thanksgiving to all!
