Steve sat anxiously on the edge of the straight back chair. His body tense, bent forward, his good hand carding through his hair over and over as the team of strangers tended to Bucky's motionless body. Natasha was hovering close; her hand on his back rubbing in circles, as much to calm her own anxiety as to settle Steve. Somewhere in the chaos, he had acquired two ice packs, an ace bandage and a sling on his right arm; he stared at it curiously.
"This is surreal." Steve thought. He had interviewed the medical crew less than 24 hours earlier. They seemed confident, competent, and decidedly quirky. King T'Challa had endorsed this team with enthusiasm. Now here they were, at work; "way too soon" Steve shook his head at the thought of how fast it all went down.
Steve closed his eyes for a moment trying to recall their names. The lead woman was in her 40s maybe, short dark hair; she had an air of 'no nonsense' but made him feel safe with their unique stories. Her name just wouldn't float up in his memory. The younger woman had been quiet in their interview but her eyes had a spark that made it hard not to like her; of course he forgot her name too. "This is so not like me." He sighed to himself.
He did remember the big guy though….he had said his name was Jonah. He was impressive. Steve actually had to look up to him when they met. He clearly worked out, bearing broad shoulders and a well muscled body. He had a tattoo on his left forearm that caught Steve's eye. It was a circle with feathers hanging from the bottom; the circle was in four colors; red, yellow, black and white. The most striking feature about Jonah, besides his waist length hair braid, was his air of confident peace. It permeated the air around him. "I want some of that." Steve thought longingly. "I want Bucky to find that too."
"Is he suicidal?" they had asked. "Absolutely not!" He had replied with conviction.
He was stunned at how wrong he was. How maybe he didn't know Bucky at all it seemed.
"How could I be so wrong about him?" He said to himself.
"Wrong about him?" Natasha repeated.
Steve didn't realize he had spoken out loud. "Sorry…I never thought he'd do this…I just never thought he'd try to kill himself." "How could I have missed this?"
Natasha wrapped her arms around his shoulders and whispered close to his ear, "Steve, don't do this to yourself…you've been his best hope for the last three years….besides we don't know enough right now…"
"Nat, he sliced his arm open…and they look like their working hard to keep him alive…this is looking a lot like he wanted to die." Steve shook his head in disbelief.
"Listen…" Natasha reassured him. "Sam said he was watching, he has the tapes….Barnes was talking to himself or someone who wasn't there… we don't know what he was thinking."
Sudden exhaustion washed over him as the last remnants of the adrenalin rush seeped out of his system. His eyes felt heavy as if he could just fall asleep sitting there upright as long as Nat didn't let him fall onto the floor. He let the sounds of the medical team lull his senses into submission as he slumped back into the chair and let his eyes close for just a minute, maybe two…Until…..
"He's crashing…." Jonah stated with loud, firm conviction.
Steve felt Natasha's hand clench on his shoulder.
"Get the crash box." The lead woman's voice snapped him out of his fogginess.
"We've lost IV access here….vein's collapsed." The young woman called out. She had her hands on Bucky's left ankle. Steve shot her a look, wondering when they got that IV in his foot in the first place.
"We need viable IV access folks. Let's get a subclavian going." The lead woman …."Cassie, her name is Cassie" Steve's memory finally kicked into gear. He stared intently as she opened the big red box that Jonah had dropped on the floor at the foot of the bed.
A machine connected to Bucky began beeping erratically as one of them flipped on the alarm.
"We've got atrial flutter." Jonah called out.
"….BP is 60 by palpation and dropping" the young woman stated crisply.
"…... starting CPR" Jonah quickly shoved a board beneath Bucky and climbed right on top of him and began pushing on his chest.
Steve had the thought that he might want to vomit but couldn't take his eyes off of the nightmare occurring in front of him.
They were losing Bucky.
"1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and 5 and …"
The two women were in gowns and gloves now; franticly working on the IV access at his right shoulder. Jonah was pushing, counting, pushing, counting….
Steve felt himself stand up and take a step forward….Natasha held him back. "Don't…let them work." He heard her whisper. He could hear a scream forming in his mind. "He's dying."
Jonah stopped pushing….
"No pulse." The younger woman stated a moment later.
"Charging." A mechanical voice broke the human connections …then "shock advised."
"Clear." Cassie announced loudly…Jonah jumped from the bed.
In Unison they called "clear"….. Jonah placed paddles on Bucky's chest and his body jolted in response to a shock.
Steve charged forward.
"NO. NO….STOP IT!" he blurted out as he grabbed Bucky's leg.
Time stood still. All eyes on him. The only sound was the deafening long moan of a heart monitor gone flatline.
"Steve? STEVE what are you doing?" Natasha hissed incredulously "they're trying to SAVE HIM" She grabbed his arm, and shook him hard, trying to get between him and the bed, between him and the grip he had on Bucky's leg.
"Wait…Just wait…..he wanted to die…he tried to kill himself…" He blurted out.
Steve's mind was racing. The next thoughts he had were like a freight train barreling out of control. "Bucky tried…no…at this moment he succeeded at killing himself" was all he could think.
Steve stammered out loud: "He's suffered enough, seventy… years… of… torture" He lingered on each of those words…"He's consumed with guilt; you have no idea what he's facing….so many people want him captured…enslaved…dead…maybe he should die, maybe he's right, it's the only way he'll ever be free." Steve was clutching Bucky's leg; tears stinging his eyes as he desperately tried to reconcile what he was doing.
He was letting Bucky go.
"You bastard, you have no fucking right…do NOT do this, Steve." Natasha's voice cracked as she slammed a fist into his chest.
"What the hell are you doing Steve?" Sam's worried voice broke into his racing thoughts as he grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back. "You don't know the half of it….man, with all due respect get your head out of your ass."
Steve suddenly focused on the diorama of Bucky's lifeless body on the bed with the three medical people standing ready, looking shocked and expectantly at him.
When…
"Tick-tock; Tick-tock. TICK-TOCK." A small but distinctly attention-grabbing voice shattered his state of indecision. It was the young woman on the team; Alex…her name came to him as he stared at her very large brown eyes. She stood toe to toe with Steve, coming up near his armpits, giving him one of the coldest stares he has ever had the pleasure of receiving. Proper medical decorum be damned…she demanded an answer.
Natasha grabbed at his face and held him tight forcing him to look at her. "Don't you dare do this Steve, don't you dare let him die" she screamed..."for god's sake it's Barnes! It's Bucky….you idiot. Don't you do this!"
Shock rolled over him. "Yes…YES…help him. Do it…save him. I'm sorry, such an idiot… I'm so sorry." Steve's voice was broken as he staggered backwards and released his grip on Bucky. Nat and Sam caught him as he his knees gave out.
Cassie, Alex and Jonah went to work…..
"No pulse…..Resume CPR." "1 and 2 and 3 and …."
"Shock advised….Ready to shock."
"Clear." The sound of Bucky's body responding to the paddles.
"No pulse….resume CPR." 1 and 2 and 3 and …"
We need the epinephrine" Cassie added.
"Charging…..Ready to shock."
"Clear." Again the jolt; the sound of Bucky's body moving.
"Epi is in…."
"Hold CPR…..what have we got….."
No one spoke as the beeping erratically wandered then suddenly fell into a regular rhythym. Beep…beep…beep…beep.
"He's breathing on his own." Alex announced.
"We have sinus rhythm." Jonah stated with no small amount of relief evidence in his tone.
There was a spontaneous three-way fist bump over Bucky's living breathing body with the sinus rhythm announcement.
Steve collapsed in the chair as he felt Natasha sink to the floor at his feet. Sam slide down the wall and onto the floor. "Are we done now?" he asked "cuz I'm done now if no one else is willing to admit it, that's ok, cuz I am done and not too proud to admit it."
"I'm sorry, Sam….I'm sorry…..." Was all Steve could say.
"Hi, you might not remember, but my name is Jonah" The big guy had squatted down next to Steve as he sat slumped in the chair deep in self-loathing. He had almost let Bucky go after he promised him "I'll never let you go…" "that was just last night…I told him…I wont let you go and look at what you just did" he chided himself. He was going to have to pay a whole lot of penance for that near disastrous decision.
Jonah's words intruded again… "He's stable right now so I'd like to get an xray of your wrist…if that's ok." He smiled kindly and gestured towards the bathroom.
Steve looked skeptical…"Ah, that's the bathroom."
Jonah chuckled…"yup, it works great for the portable xray machine. Let's get you taken care of." He said as he stood up and offered a hand to Steve, who was feeling his real chronological age right about now.
It didn't take long for the xray and the temporary cast that Jonah expertly applied. When he sat back down Bucky was covered with a blanket, there was an IV running to his right shoulder and there was a bag with urine in it hanging on the bed. The bag had a tube that snaked it's way under the covers and Steve knew where it went …" Wow…glad he slept through that." Steve thought.
"How are you feeling?" Cassie was standing next to him, looking concerned.
"I'm ok…I think." Steve really thought he was ok. Obviously, Cassie disagreed.
"Let's go sit out in the living room and talk. Jonah and Alex will be here with James. They'll get us both if anything changes." Steve slowly and reluctantly followed her.
"Your friend's condition is stable but guarded for the moment. He's lost a lot of blood, appears malnourished and dehydrated. We've started fluids and electrolytes, and will consider tube feedings if we can't get food into him soon." Cassie summed up the mess that was Bucky right now. Steve could only agree.
"You said yesterday that you felt he was hearing voices and appeared paranoid. Is that correct?" She asked.
Steve nodded. "We have tapes of him talking to no one. We can show you. You have to help him. He tried to kill himself because of the voices….that's not like him. Not something Bucky would do." Not something the old Bucky would have done he corrected to himself.
"It would be difficult to medicate him at this point but we'll keep assessing the situation. We'll treat him as the need arises." Cassie reassured him. But Steve wasn't feeling reassured. 'Please help him. He needs help…He stopped talking to me, stopped eating and drinking. I couldn't get through to him."
"I understand your frustration. But right now he's in a coma. He isn't really responding to stimuli, it would be unethical for me to give him medications that are not clearly indicated by his condition."
"I told you yesterday that he was a POW, that he was tortured. But it's more than that…he was brainwashed…for years…. they shocked his brain…..repeatedly….to wipe away his memories" Steve didn't want to reveal Bucky's story, didn't want to betray him, by telling a stranger his horrible history but he had to get her to understand…" then his captors…..his handlers….they had him fight; kill people, innocent people; they turned him into a living breathing weapon."
Cassie listened calmly, no judgment or shock on her face. "She looks like I'm telling her about his acne as a kid." Steve thought.
He continued..."He escaped from them. He's been on the run every since. Always looking over his shoulder, always wondering who's going to catch up with him next and what are they going to do to him when they do catch him. So he's paranoid…to a fault."
"Some would say being paranoid is just a form of good judgment. It likely kept him alive." Cassie might actually understand them better than Steve thought.
"The really sad part is that he remembers. Alll those memories from when we were kids are coming back, but he remembers what they did to him, he remembers what he did for them. I don't know for sure…but I think he remembers who he killed, I think they are the voices he is hearing. He never told me…but I could hear him talking at night, heard him say things…." Steve's voice trailed off.
Cassie nodded slowly. "So now he lives with the horror of what they did to him as well as the guilt of what he did. That can make for a whole lot of PTSD…..reason enough to destabilize, maybe hear voices, or feel that suicide is the only way out." She added kindly.
"So it's a good thing you changed your mind."
Steve looked at her with some confusion.
"Your stopped the code…you nearly let him go…it's a good thing you came to your senses…" she offered.
Steve still felt torn "He's suffered for seventy years….oh, right, by the way, they froze him over and over to keep him going as the weapon…I thought maybe it was time to end it since he wanted to end it."
"I understand. But is that really how you would want it to end? You said it wasn't like him to do that kind of thing. He survived this long for a reason. Call it resilience, fate, stubbornness, karma…whatever you want to call it. He's still here and so are you. Maybe it's time to embrace it; good, bad, ups and downs." Cassie was having none of his self-doubt.
"You might want to get some rest. We're going to be busy in the next few days and you have some tough decisions to make." Cassie added as she rose to leave.
Steve was surprised at the "tough decisions" reference. It took a moment for that to sink in but by then Cassie had said good night and left the house to settle into their camper.
Once things with Barnes seemed to settle down, Sam headed to methodically wade into the mess in the kitchen. "What the fuck, Barnes. There's jelly in here, pickles, eggs….you're such a jerk…you knew I'd get to clean this mess up, you made it as disgusting as possible…" Sam was complaining out loud hoping that Barnes would hear him somehow in his dreams.
"Really man how could you do this….how could you hurt Steve like this….you're such an asshole…a selfish asshole…..I hate you….." Sam's voice trailed off as he noticed he was being watched.
"Ah. Hi." Sam stopped his monologue to Barnes and his cleaning.
"Hello." The young woman stated flatly.
Sam finally got a good look at her. She looked young, her hot pink hair was cut short and had a lot of straight up spiking; there was a tattoo on her neck…Sam didn't want to stare but he could have sworn it was a horse? No. A unicorn wrapped in a rainbow.
His attention was jerked back to her face when…. "You do know he's in a coma in the other room, right? He probably can't hear you from two rooms away."
Sam chuckled quietly…"Yeah, I know. He's frustrating, he's selfish…this really hurt Steve…it pisses me off no end…. that's all."
He finished with "I enjoy complaining about him." Sam wasn't sure why he was blurting out all this stuff to this person he didn't even know.
"So maybe you don't' hate him…." She offered as she pulled on gloves, paper booties and a paper gown to start helping Sam clean up the aftermath. "Maybe you just feel helpless."
Sam bristled at that statement…"I'm not helpless" he defended himself.
"I didn't say you WERE helpless…I said you FELT helpless…there's a difference."
"Oh. Right." ….
She grabbed a box of sand and spread it over the sticky mess of blood. "He probably hates himself more than you hate him…he probably feels more helpless than you do…." Her words were quiet but carried a weight that Sam thought maybe she was speaking from experience more so than sympathy for Barnes.
They worked in silence after that, coordinating their efforts, helping one another with the mop, the blood absorbing sand, a box for the glass.
"Hey, my name is Sam….we never got introduced…" he extended a filthy gloved hand towards her.
The young woman glanced up from scrubbing the floor…."I'm Alex. Pleased to meet you." She stared at his extended hand for a moment then offered her own filthy gloved fist…so Sam made a fist, bumped hers and they finished the task at hand.
But ultimately…
"I do too hate him." He mumbled, although weakly.
Steve agreed to rest….but refused to go to his room. "Like a fucking four year old." Sam had muttered as he struggled with dragging the recliner into the medical room so Steve could sleep in there.
"At least he's going to lie down…" Natasha added as she tossed a pillow and blanket on the chair and left the room.
It was late into the night and everyone was in need of some down time. Sam paused after moving the chair, to watch Barnes sleeping, finally…"He almost looks peaceful" he thought. He mulled over what Alex had said earlier…today? Yesterday? "Damn what day is it?"
It was hard to imagine that Barnes felt helpless, or desperate enough to give up. But Sam had to admit to himself that as much as he was biased against Barnes…he had the evidence, he'd watched as Barnes unraveled not from an outside source, no calls from Hydra or another handler but from internal "shit." What Sam had watched, he finally had to admit, was torture….Barnes was tortured…still. And, he clearly tried to protect Steve despite his own descent into chaos.
"Maybe I can hate him a little less…" Sam decided as he found himself standing over a sleeping Barnes. "At least he doesn't snore" which was a comfort since he knew he'd be sleeping in that chair as well before this situation was over.
"You ok?"
Sam was startled from his contemplation of the idiot in the bed by Steve's concerned voice.
"Yeah, yeah. Just…thinking….he doesn't look so menacing when he's asleep." Sam joked.
"Really? You haven't slept with him…" Steve unconsciously admitted.
Sam looked at him hard. "What?"
"Never mind…I'm too tired…not making any sense." Steve brushed it off. He didn't want to get into that conversation.
He imagined it would go..."You've SLEPT with him? You've slept in the same bed ….with the man who wants to kill you half the time and is screamingly psychotic the rest of the time….never MIND what kind of message does that send to him? Tell me you haven't let this get sexual….please…he's a train wreck….."
Steve could hear the Sam lecture lasting on into the night. Best to gloss it over as a slip of the tongue…no pun intended.
Sam wasn't really buying his excuse but he decided "too damn tired….grown men….can sleep wherever they want, with whomever they want….done…."
But he added out loud "Listen, Steve…I'm sorry I doubted him. I'm sorry I didn't believe you."
"Sam, it's all good. I'm sorry too." He clapped a hand on Sam's arm…"I am doubting myself every second."
"I think Bucky's the only one who actually knows what he's doing any more." Steve shook his head as his gaze rested on Bucky.
Sam added "well that is a scary thought…." And with that…he headed for a shower and a bed.
Steve dozed off watching Bucky's deep and steady breathing. He dreamt of running, slogging in ooze that wouldn't let him move; his feet stuck with each step. He was chasing Bucky…he could see him far ahead, covered in blood, wires wrapped around his body, he wasn't running so much as struggling; with each move hurtling him further and further away. Steve tried to call to him to stop or wait but no voice came out, only a muffled cry. In the dream Bucky turned to look at him, it seemed like he could see Steve; he raised a hand to reach out to him, opened his mouth to speak but no words came out, no screams. He saw Bucky begin to shake, his body twisting grotesquely, his head twitching, his eyes going blank. He could hear the arm plates shifting, scraping, whirring …louder and louder…..suddenly Bucky was right in front of him, quivering with empty grey eyes.
Steve startled awake….the room looked and felt the way it did when he fell asleep. But
Bucky's peaceful sleep had grown restless. He was moving his legs; the arm was whirring; he was mumbling, although his eyes were still closed.
Steve felt a too familiar rush of anxiety as he quietly rose from the recliner. He thought "better get Cassie" but before he could take a step towards the door; Bucky sat bolt upright, wild-eyed, panting and terrified. A stream of words came out of him…all in Russian. He was shaking violently; nearly as bad as the seizures; the arm was clicking and whirring as he became more agitated when he suddenly kicked the covers off and pushed to get out of the bed.
Steve stepped towards him…."can't let him get to anyone" ran through his mind as he moved to contain him. The last thing he wanted or needed was yet another struggle with Bucky while having a fractured wrist in a splint. But even worse would be letting him get out of that room. Steve braced himself for the impending brawl but a hand gently grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
It was Jonah who appeared out of nowhere.
"I got this." He whispered as he tugged Steve back and away from Bucky. Steve tried to stand his ground but Natasha being the sneaky spy that is her true self….showed up to snag the back of his pants and pulled him towards the door. "Let's get out of the way, Steve. They know what they are doing." She parked them just outside the door, Steve wouldn't go any further away.
Jonah moved slowly forward, grabbed the straight backed chair, turned it backwards and sat on it right next to the bed, he quickly made his large and potentially challenging appearance smaller and comforting. And he completely ignored the growing threat of that arm and a psychotic Bucky. "Hey, man…my name is Jonah, let's talk for a minute." Jonah said softly.
Bucky just kept rambling on in Russian, low and angry. His eyes were darting back and forth as if he was looking for something or someone. Both feet were nearly on the floor by then.
"You were hurt bad when I got here, so we helped you out." Bucky didn't look at him.
"You're looking a lot better right now except you look scared. Are you afraid of something?" Jonah offered but Bucky kept up the Russian chatter and trembling.
"We want to help you feel better. Help you feel safe. No one here is going to hurt you."
Bucky turned his head quickly away from where Jonah sat as if someone had spoken to him. He growled out more Russian that clearly carried the tone of a threat.
"Is someone else talking to you right now? Is someone telling you what to do?" Jonah was persistent.
That comment seemed to jerk Bucky's attention back towards Jonah, still no eye contact though. "Yeah, so maybe someone else is calling the shots right now…but you don't want to listen to them is my guess, right?" Jonah was engaged with him but was also narrating for the growing audience in the doorway since Cassie had also discreetly appeared behind Steve and Natasha.
"Maybe you disagree with them. You just gave them some shit, right? Called them fuckers, and some other names I won't repeat in English…" Jonah apparently spoke Russian, swear words at least.
Bucky's attention on Jonah was increasing….Steve was holding his breath. He could see the all too familiar look on his face, that strange unnerving blank, yet angry snarl. He could hear the arm plates re-align ominously. Steve worried to himself "Surely Jonah's seeing this as a threat…he has to hear those plates…shit. I should have warned him about the arm." Steve tried again to step towards the scene but both Cassie and Natasha blocked him.
Bucky's left hand clenched and unclenched; the plates settled briefly, then his fist shot towards Jonah's face as Bucky let out a low angry growl. Jonah never even flinched. Steve and Natasha flinched hard though at that sight. Jonah didn't react at all as Bucky's fist stopped short of hitting him and ended with grabbing a fist full of Jonah's shirt and held on.
Finally Bucky's eyes met Jonah's.
"I'm real. You can hear me talking right?" Jonah offered quietly.
Bucky didn't answer but there was assent in his eyes for a moment.
"Are you hearing other people talking to you right now?" Jonah pushed again.
Bucky still didn't answer but the truth was clear when he started to cry.
"Ok, man..I get it. I truly do get it." "There's a voice you're hearing. Right?"
Bucky shook out a faint nod of agreement.
"Are there more than one?"
Bucky sobbed harder.
"Ok. That has to be hard to listen to all the time. No wonder you're exhausted."
"Did the voice, the voices, tell you to hurt yourself?"
Bucky pulled Jonah closer, as he whispered out a faint answer of "No." Then "Yes."
Cassie thought…"we'll sort that out later…"
Jonah had slowly moved his hands to rest on the bed where Bucky could see them but also prepared to move himself if needed. The arm was as impressive as Jonah thought it would be when he first laid eyes on it. But Jonah had been working with psychosis for a long time; he was well acquainted with the power of fear and an unrestrained psyche. He hoped he could talk Bucky down, felt certain he could but was ready for any eventuality.
"Did the voices tell you to hurt other people?"
Bucky's head twitched hard, the metal hand shook slightly. He nodded "yes." As he whispered "Steve."
"Are they still telling you to hurt Steve?" Jonah had to know…had to ask. Had to assess everyone's safety.
Bucky shook with the sobbing as he nodded "yes."
He leaned in closer to Jonah who offered no resistance. He pressed his forehead against the side of Jonah's head to whisper "tried to stop…tried to die…protect Steve. Can't fight it…let me go….please."
Jonah closed his eyes for a moment to bring his emotions into check; as he realized that Bucky had chosen to die not just to end the voices but to save Steve. That he still wanted that outcome even now.
"Ok brother, I hear you, loud and clear. I hear you."
Jonah placed one hand on Bucky's metal wrist as he went on: "Listen, I have a better way to offer you." Now his other hand was on Bucky's head, trying to steady the increasing tremors.
"I get it, brother….I've been there. The nightmares, the voices, guilt that rips out your soul. I felt the way you feel…dying seems like the only way out." Jonah was gently stroking Bucky's hair. Somehow the mere presence of Jonah's hand on Bucky's wrist seemed to relax the grip he had on him.
"I know you don't want to hurt your friend, and I believe you don't want to hurt anyone else. I believe you don't really want to die. You just didn't know you had any other options. Right?"
Bucky nodded again in agreement.
"I want you to consider something else. New information. A better way to deal with this."
A glimmer of skepticism crossed Bucky's face.
"Yup…it involves medication…and maybe you're thinking you don't trust that; maybe you're thinking you don't trust me…you don't even know me…all I can offer you is my story and a promise that on my honor, on my ancestors honor…I would not lie to you. I will not make you do anything against your will."
Bucky let go of Jonah's shirt and his hand dropped to the bed. Jonah took that as a "yes." He discreetly nodded towards Cassie.
Jonah let go of his wrist and reached to pull the blankets across Bucky's legs as they dangled from the side of the bed. All this time, with an audience, Bucky had been sitting there nearly completely exposed in a hospital gown.
"So brother, we need to get some nourishment into you. I'm betting you've lost some weight and I have the ultimate protein shake here….no crappy tasting over the counter stuff for my patients….this is my own personal recipe."
Cassie quietly and quickly prepared the mediations; something to help Bucky sleep and something for the voices. She had heard all she needed to hear through the conversation with Jonah; Bucky remained at risk.
Bucky didn't protest at the protein shake. Jonah held the cup steady as Bucky sucked it down and made the squeaky noise at the end by accident when it was gone. "There's more of that when ever you wake up." "That was vanilla…a good place to start but I can make all flavors…chocolate, strawberry, coconut…wait…I know…I can see it …you are a ….peanut butter man…am I right?"
Bucky didn't answer but maybe there was a slight, very slight nod. Jonah made a mental note to make one for the next round of getting Bucky to eat.
A few minutes later, Bucky was medicated, tucked in, all tubes and supporting machinery stable; he was fast returning to sleep. Jonah crossed to exit the room and was met by Steve and Natasha. His eyes met Steve's; he nodded and patted Steve on the arm as they stepped back and let him pass silently. Steve really really wanted some of whatever Jonah had going on…he never thought anyone would connect with Bucky like that…it made him feel a slight twinge of envy.
Everyone fell into a dysfunctional yet functional routine after the medications were added. Sitting with Barnes, sleeping in the recliner, coaxing him to drink the protein shakes. He was too weak to get up, so the foley catheter stayed…Sam winched every time he looked at it. He even took his turn getting the shakes into him…although it was more of a struggle between them.
Alex proved to be fearless….her turn to Barnes-sit made Sam pretty nervous…he stuck around to "help her move him if she needed muscle." He joked but really he just wanted to protect her.
"Hi, I'm Alex." She offered as Barnes stared intently at her when he first seemed to register her presence. He had been lying on his side, drifting in and out of sleep while she wiped down his back and rubbed lotion in. He had startled at her touch and rolled around quickly to grab her hand.
Sam jumped to the bedside.
Alex held up her free hand to hold him off.
"I'm sorry I startled you…I was just rubbing in some lotion…you don't want bedsores do you?" He didn't answer but slowly let go of her without leaving a mark.
"Great….time for a shake!" Alex moved to the small fridge in the corner, the newest addition to the room, she pulled out a large cup with a straw and offered it to Bucky.
He slowly reached for it, their fingers connected, he paused then took the cup and sucked it dry ending with what Sam thought was a slightly satisfied look.
As Alex left the room and Bucky laid back down…she shot back a question "Hey, that was peanut butter…how'd you like it?" Bucky didn't answer…he didn't seem to have much energy for words. She turned to leave without an answer.
But Sam quietly said "Alex…look."
She turned to see Bucky, eyes closed, drifting off, but his left hand, the metal one, was giving her the thumbs up. Alex smiled.
Natasha was Barnes-sitting when the barbecue was getting in full swing. The tangy sweet smell was mouth-watering. She knew Steve had promised to bring her some but that smell was too much. She stared at Barnes for a moment, he seemed settled…soooo..she ran out the back door to the front of the house and snagged a plate. By the time she got back Barnes was still sound asleep. "Perfect." She thought.
The last day of Bucky's not-hospital stay the medical team said their good-byes. Cassie, Steve and Bucky had 'The Talk' Steve felt like he was back in school again with Bucky…both of them in the principle's office…."doomed to get in trouble with Bucky; no matter what century" he laughed to himself.
Bucky actually looked a bit intimidated by Jonah as he looked up at him…he clearly didn't remember much about the last few days; since he looked like he'd never met him. But Steve could testify Jonah had seen and touched more parts of Bucky than even Steve could lay claim to…."maybe it's better that Buck doesn't remember him." Steve chuckled to himself.
Then came Alex. Steve hadn't gotten to talk to her much, not that she talked at all except to Sam. She approached Bucky with an odd mix of shyness and strength. She reached for his right arm and began to wrap a long golden-colored cord 3 times around it and secured the clasp then patted his hand. Bucky stared at it for a long time. His responses were definitely slowed since the ordeal and the medications. Steve hoped that would improve. Alex placed a folded card in Bucky's hand, then moved to leave, but turned back quickly and planted the sweetest, fastest kiss on his cheek Steve had ever seen. Then she was gone, leaving Bucky looking confused, scared and blushing all at once.
"Blushing! Who knew Bucky Barnes could blush!" Natasha laughed out loud. She had been watching the good-byes from the recliner.
That night after the medical team left, Steve snuck into the downstairs bedroom to check on Bucky; he wasn't planning on lying down, he was just so tired and frankly, lonely. He knew it was probably not a good idea to give in to his desire to hold him; shouldn't let his own fantasies about Bucky get even a small amount of fuel. He thought "just one more night, one more time." And climbed into the bed to wrap his arms around Bucky.
He had a confession to make. "I nearly let you go. I promised to hold onto you no matter what…but the other night when they lost you…I stopped them from bringing you back."
"I'm still here." Bucky had rasped out.
"I know….I changed my mind…go figure."
"I get it." Bucky whispered. "I'm a pain in the ass."
"Yeah….you are, without a doubt a big pain in the ass."
Well you're stuck with me now."
"Good, good. But...You're stuck with me too."
Much later, as he and Steve talked about the "not-hospital hospital stay." As they came to call it in an effort to normalize the ordeal, Bucky didn't remember any of it, well most of it. Except the tangy sweet smell that woke him briefly: the taste of peanut butter shakes and the sound of voices; friendly voices that didn't tell him to hurt himself or anyone else. And the good-byes.