Chapter Eight
The next day, Bucky's at the doctor's office again, but for once it's not because of Stevie. He's got his shirt off and he's looking away while Dr Stark examines what's left of his left arm.
Every so often, when Bucky is feeling particularly hopeful, he'll pop back into Stark's office and ask about the odds. How likely is it he can find a functioning prosthetic? The past two years have told Bucky that the likelihood is pretty low.
It's not that there aren't prostheses out there. Bucky's seen them and some even have working elbows and fingers and wrists and he wants it so badly he could scream, but there are so many complications. Money is the biggest one. His insurance only covers so much, and he has to save up for Stevie's needs first. There's just not enough money on his paycheck for the sort of luxury like two functioning limbs.
"If you could get that military assistance you were talking about last time," Dr Stark says and raises his eyebrow expectantly at Bucky. Bucky looks away.
"I don't think I can," he admits. He looked into it, tried to apply, but the red tape was extensive. The same people who didn't want to give him a baby also didn't want him benefitting from government funds. On darker days, he couldn't blame them. "It's, um, complicated," he says. "But come on, there has got to be something you can do," he begs quietly and Dr Stark looks at him and throws up his hands.
"We've been at this for so long," he says. "And you aren't ready to give up yet?"
"No," Bucky says adamantly and Stark shrugs and puts his hands into his pockets.
"Well, with an attitude like that, nothing can stop you," he says.
"You'll look into it?" Bucky asks.
"I've been looking into it," Stark responds. "I really have, Bucky." He sounds exhausted. Bucky waits for the 'but'. "I'll keep looking," Stark finally says. "But you know a large percentage of arm amputees forgo the prosthetics. You might get one and wind up hating it. A lot of people do."
"I'd at least like a chance," Bucky says. "I just want a chance with it."
Stark says nothing.
"I've got a toddler at home," Bucky adds. "He's just barely learning to walk. It'd be a lot easier to take care of him if I could at least pick him up with two arms." He feels like he's begging. He doesn't know what to do anymore.
"Mr Barnes," Stark finally says. "We'll keep trying. I promise."
Bucky takes the cue to pull his shirt back on and he leaves the office defeatedly.
He finds Stevie at home with Mrs Carter and when she leaves, he puts a pot of spaghetti-os on the stove. Stevie's playing with blocks in his high chair and he occasionally waves one at Bucky and says, "bu-bu-buh," and Bucky's not sure if he's trying to say 'block' or 'Bucky'. The pot is starting to steam-
-and he pulls the trigger. he watches a bullet go in one side and out the other, taking blood and brain matter and bone with it, and the target collapses to the floor. he doesn't know why, but tears are suddenly springing up in his eyes. he pulls the scarf down from where it's tied around his mouth and his knees turn to jello and he drops onto the ground next to the body. blood is pooling. he starts to vomit.
he sits next to the body for how long, he's not sure, but it must be a long time because the sun is coming up by the time he stumbles away. he's not sure where his gun is. he makes it to the extraction point hours late and a handler hits him so hard across the face that his vision goes black in one eye.
Stevie is howling. Bucky can hear it, and he realizes he's sitting on the ground. He's hugging his knees to himself. On the stove, he can hear the pot of spaghetti-os bubbling over and burning. He's trembling. He can still feel the tingling of that hand across his face and he can still feel the hotness of the blood as it soaks through the knees of his pants. He can taste bile rising in his mouth and he's not sure if that's real or not. He doesn't know what's real or not.
He buries his face in the crook of his elbow and takes shuddering sobs.
A minute later, he forces himself to crawl over to the stove and at least turn the burner off so the mess starting to smoke on the heat won't burn the house down, and then he sinks again to the ground and lays there, trying to cover his face. Stevie's screaming has turned to whimpers and Bucky realizes that he's staring at Bucky, scared. Bucky rolls over onto his stomach and tries to fight the way his stomach heaves. He realizes he's still sobbing. He's scaring Stevie. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't think he can stand.
A couple minutes later, Bucky hauls himself to his feet and holds onto the counter for white-knuckled support. He looks over at Stevie and Stevie stares back. They're both streaked in tears and Stevie's starting to hiccup.
When Bucky starts to try to make his way back over to Stevie, Stevie becomes hysterical again and Bucky decides to stay on the other side of the room.
He swipes at his own cheeks, trying to dry them, but every time he does he can see that hole in that head and his tears come again. He didn't even know that person. He's not sure why it upsets him so badly, this particular incident. He supposes they all do, in their own ways.
After a while, Stevie starts to reach for Bucky. He's leaning over his high chair with his little arms outstretched, saying "Bu-Bu-Bu," and Bucky looks over at him. He can't seem to force himself to move. Stevie's starting to cry and his pleas become more desperate. "Bububububu!" He cries. Bucky drags himself again to his feet and leans himself against the wall, and then manages to half-walk half-stumble to Stevie. Bucky leans down and Stevie wraps his arms around his neck as tight as he can and Bucky picks him up and they both collapse back down onto the floor. Stevie squeezes Bucky and Bucky can feel him trying to kiss the portions of his face and neck that he can reach with wet little baby kisses, and Bucky wraps his arm around Stevie and squeezes back.
"I didn't mean to scare you, little guy," he says hoarsely. "I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"
"Buh," Stevie says and Bucky lets out another shuddering sob and squeezes Stevie again.
"Thanks," he says and his voice sounds thick through the tears. "I love you, too."