Avengers: Search for the Winter Soldier
Chapter 19
Title: Awakening
Summary: The Soldier wakes from his treatment and gets a shower and a shave before dinner.
Note: This chapter is dedicated to Ykmzx4 on AO3 for all your support and your willingness to give me feedback. I love your enthusiasm and to hear what is working for my readers and even what doesn't work for you. I appreciate everyone's support and look forward to hearing from each of you. One of my favorite pastimes is interacting with my readers. So please don't be shy. – W6C
Steve was still sitting at the Soldier's bedside almost two hours after he'd settled the man back onto the bed after the torture-in-dream episode. The infusion therapy had been completed an hour ago and Bruce had removed the IV and; after leaving instructions to call him if needed, left him in Steve's care to sleep it off.
Steve sat at the edge of the chair, leaning heavily on his elbows which were propped atop his knees. His hands were clasped tightly together and his head hung low. Behind closed eyes he followed his thoughts in all directions, contemplating the task they'd undertaken and worrying about how Bucky was going to make it out at the end of it all.
Around 5:30 p.m. the Soldier stirred as the hard grip of the drugs loosened its hold on him. He took a deep breath and let it out and that sound alone was enough to pull Steve from his worried thoughts. He raised his head as he opened his eyes to see the Soldier grimace and stretch a little as if his back or neck was bothering him.
Steve stood up, reaching out to clutch the bedrail that protected the man from falling out and using it to pull himself to his feet. His own body felt stiff from sitting in one position for so long but he now looked down at the man with a sense of anticipation. Steve's expression was hopeful as he waited for the Soldier to open his eyes.
As he slowly regained consciousness, his brain felt like it was floating in molasses. He felt as though he really should wake suddenly and fully in order to be prepared to defend himself, but he couldn't move. His muscles felt too heavy for his body and his ability to think clearly was definitely impaired. He tried to look around in the darkness enveloping him and slowly realized that it was a private darkness inside his own head.
He became aware of a sound in the distance and focused on that. He tried to follow the sound as if it would lead him out of the darkness. Every time the sound stopped he'd slowly slip back into the darkness. When the sound came back it seemed to pull at him, urging him to follow it out of the dark void he was floating in. He tried to reach out toward that sound. If he could just grab onto it, he could let it pull him out.
Steve stood at the bed rail, watching the Soldier closely as his eyes rolled around behind closed eyelids and his head rolled weakly from side to side. The muscles in his right arm would bunch and release as if he was trying to move and couldn't. He could tell the drugs were starting to release their hold on him and the Soldier was trying to swim to the surface of consciousness. Steve tried to help guide him out of his darkness.
"Bucky… follow the sound of my voice," he said repeatedly, trying to lend support and comfort to his friend. "Just follow my voice… come on, you can do it."
The sound repeated and he focused completely on it, feeling his consciousness rising toward the surface. It was working. All he needed to do was follow that sound.
"Come on, Buck… you can do it. Just follow the sound of my voice."
It was a voice. It was a person. It wasn't his handler. It wasn't the doctors he was used to. They were never present when he woke this way. He'd always wake up in an empty room; cold and alone. This voice sounded pleasant… and caring. Where was he? Who was this person? He wanted to breach the surface so he could see who this person was. He kicked hard with his feet to try to propel himself to the surface.
"That's right… just follow my voice," Steve urged him, keeping his voice soft but his tone was determined. He watched as the Soldier's legs began to move, his hands clenched at the blanket and he moaned. Steve smiled softly as he watched the man fight to come back out into daylight. He reached out with his right hand and gripped the Soldier's right forearm to try to help ground him physically.
He felt the hand gripping his arm. His mind flashed an image of hanging from the wreckage of a train. The man reached out his hand… and grabbed onto his arm. He could see the man and… he felt his own terror subside because he was saved.
His heart jumped into his throat as he let go of the railing and reached out to hang on to the man for his life.
The railing broke away just as he let go of it and fell into the ravine below him. He looked down to watch it disappear beneath his dangling feet. He looked back up at the man's face above him. The man was smiling but he looked scared as he hung beneath him by one arm.
The wreckage of the train fell away next and he reached out with his other hand to cling to the man's arm. The man grabbed onto him with both hands now… and then the whole train fell away and into the ravine below them.
Now, it was just him- and this man - clinging to each other as if both their lives depended on neither of them letting go. And then the rest of the world fell away – he glanced around, but there was nothing to see, nothing around him, nothing at all to hold onto… except the man looking down at him.
The man smiled at him and he didn't know what to make of that. He worried for a moment that the man was going to let go… that it wasn't real… there was no one for him to hang on to. There was no one to cling to. The man opened his mouth and said, "It's okay. I've got you. You're safe. I'll never let go, Buck."
Steve had his hand on the Soldier's arm and spoke to him quietly. He startled when the Soldier suddenly gasped loudly and his eyes flew open. The Soldier reached out and grabbed onto him and Steve almost pulled away in surprise, until he realized he wasn't being attacked. The hold the Soldier had on him was a desperate one; as if he'd finally made it out of the darkness and was holding on tight so he wouldn't slip back into its depths.
Reflexively, Steve reached out with his other hand and slid it under the Soldier's neck. He leaned down close as the Soldier's hands grabbed for him. "It's okay. I've got you," Steve told him. "You're safe. I'll never let go, Buck."
The Soldier stared up at the man who was clinging to him and he, in turn, was clinging to. He didn't want to let go of him. Fates help him, he couldn't admit that to anyone, but he wanted to stay here… where he felt it was safe.
He stared at the face inches away from his; trying to grasp the reason he felt so safe with this man. The man's hands were gripping his arm but he didn't hurt. He didn't cause pain. How is that possible? Hands hurt. People hurt when they touch.
Steve stood in position like a statue. He just let the Soldier cling to him as he tried to gather his wits and understand where he was and what was happening. The Soldier stared at him with huge eyes; dilated from the drugs he'd been given.
Steve became aware of the fact that, although the Soldier was clinging to him, like a drowning man now saved; his right hand was gripping his arm harder than his left was. The bionic hand was wrapped around his right bicep just enough for him to be aware of its presence, but his right hand was clenched tightly in the material of Steve's sleeve. It was as if the Soldier was well-aware that he could injure him with his metal hand and was consciously avoiding that.
He tried not to move or waver as he gave the Soldier time to acclimate. He cradled the man's head on his forearm, and his right hand was now resting on the mattress. His grip had been broken by the Soldier when he had suddenly raised his arms to grab onto him. Steve simply stayed in that position until the fog cleared from the Soldier's mind.
The Soldier blinked and took a breath. Steve felt the muscles in the man's back and neck relaxing a little against his arm.
"You're okay," Steve told him again.
The Soldier blinked again and then his grip loosened on Steve's arms. Steve lowered him back to his pillow as he seemed to become aware of his surroundings again. He straightened his back and waited at his bedside as the Soldier looked around.
"Do you know where you are?" Steve asked.
The Soldier looked up at him. He paused a moment and then nodded.
"Doc said you'd sleep for a while after the infusion. Do you feel like getting up?" Steve asked him.
The Soldier thought about that for a moment and then nodded. Almost immediately he tried to pull himself upright but fell back with a groan.
"Whoa, take it slow," Steve told him. "I'm going to lower the rail so don't move." The Soldier lay still as Steve lowered the bedrail. "Okay, nice and slow. Take my arm," he said and guided the metal hand onto his right forearm.
The Soldier's metal fingers gripped his arm enough to get a good hold but not to harm. As Steve helped to pull him upright, he guided his legs off the side of the bed.
Steve held onto him to make sure he could maintain his balance on the edge of the bed before deciding whether to let go. "You good?" he asked.
The Soldier blinked a few times and then nodded. His hair was disheveled and stringy and he'd probably sweated off about five pounds during his treatment, Steve mused. He kept his hands on him just in case.
"Do you feel like eating?" Steve asked him. He waited a few moments after each question he asked to give the man time to hear his words and comprehend what he was asking so he could answer. The Soldier nodded. "How about a shower first? I think you'll feel better after."
The Soldier nodded.
"Okay," Steve acknowledged. "Can you stand?" He kept his hands on the Soldier and waited. The Soldier looked down at the floor and then slid forward until his feet were touching it. Steve continued to hold onto him and the Soldier was still gripping his arms for support. "There you go. You're doing good… You feel okay?" he asked.
The Soldier nodded.
"Okay," Steve said nodding. "Come this way," he said, guiding the man around the bed and toward the bathroom.
The Soldier was still wobbly on his feet so Steve escorted him into the small room. When they got inside, Steve slowly let go of his friend and watched to be sure he could maintain his own balance. He seemed pretty steady on his feet now so he took a step back.
"Get undressed," he instructed. "I just want to hang to make sure you get in okay. Don't want you to fall over and slam your head."
The Soldier nodded as if he understood what Steve had said, but he didn't move for a while. When he did attempt to remove his shirt, he seemed confused by it. The Henley had three buttons and all were open, his fingers searched for others and he didn't understand why only three. Steve stepped forward to help him pull it up over his head and then waited there for a moment to see if he'd continue to undress. When he didn't, Steve reached out to unbutton the jeans and pulled them down. The Soldier had to use him for balance as he lifted one foot and then the other as Steve pulled the pants off him. "Hang on," Steve told him. "Don't move yet."
He let the Soldier lean on him, with one hand planted on his back, as he lifted his foot to get one sock off and then the other… then he quickly pulled the briefs down and let him step out of them as he helped him into the shower stall.
"Here, put your hands against the wall to balance yourself," he instructed. The Soldier did as he was told. He just stood there with his back to the water as Steve turned it on and adjusted the temperature. Once that was done to his satisfaction, Steve looked at him. "Are you going to need help?"
The Soldier stood there with his head down; his long hair hiding his face as he leaned heavily against the wall. He shook his head slowly 'no', but didn't move.
Steve watched him and then decided he'd give the Soldier the time he needed without interfering – unless something happened to threaten injury. "I'm just going to sit over here, in case you need me," Steve told him. "Take your time." He pulled the clear shower curtain across the front. It was clear so patients could be monitored while showering and still used as a barrier to keep the water inside the stall.
Steve lowered the lid on the toilet and sat down. He took out his cell phone and began to check his emails and text messages; glancing up now and again just to be sure the Soldier was doing okay.
It took about five minutes for the Soldier to move away from the wall. The steam from the shower was helping to clear his head and the warmth of it beckoned him. He slowly turned away from the wall and stepped under the water. He let his head fall back to let the water wash over his face and chest. He opened his mouth and let the warm water fill it and then flow out again. He put his hands up to lean against the wall under the faucet and dropped his head forward; letting his hair get saturated and the water flowed down his back.
Steve looked up to see him leaning heavily on the wall with his head down. He watched for a moment to be sure he was okay and then went back to his phone. When the Soldier's hand reached for a bar of soap, he knocked over the bottle that was standing there.
Steve heard the bottle hit the floor and looked over. He got up to collect it for him so he wouldn't have to bend down to get it. He pocketed his cell phone and pushed the curtain out of the way. He fished the bottle out from near the Soldier's feet and tried to hand it to him. The Soldier just looked at it and then at him.
"It's body wash," Steve told him. "It's… here," he grabbed a wash cloth and wet it under the spray then poured some of the liquid soap on it. He squeezed the cloth together and got it foamy and handed it to the Soldier. "There you go," he said and then returned to his seat.
The Soldier took it and sniffed at it… then began to rub the cloth slowly across his chest and belly… then behind his neck. His movements were slow and sluggish and he did the best he could, keeping one hand on the wall; washing what he could reach without risking falling over. He looked around and then shrugged before rubbing the washcloth against his head in an attempt to wash his hair.
Steve got up and pocketed his cell phone again. "Here, give me that," he said. The Soldier handed him the wash cloth and Steve touched his shoulder to turn him away slightly. He used the cloth to wash the Soldier's back, since he was there anyway. Having noticed that he was balancing himself with his left arm against the wall, he hadn't been able to wash his right arm, so Steve wiped down his arm and tapped him to raise it up so he could access his armpit and right side. Once that was done, he then rinsed the cloth and wrung it out before dropping it onto the tile floor. He reached up and turned the shower head away from him so he could step into the stall without getting wet. He reached for the shampoo and put a glob of it in his hand. "Turn your body… sit right there," he told his friend, pointing at the small seat built into the corner of the shower. Having turned the shower head away from him, it now sprayed water onto the wall just above and to the right of the Soldier.
The Soldier took the seat as directed and Steve scrubbed the soap into the Soldier's hair. He wasn't really good at doing this sort of thing for other people, but he did the best he could. He figured anything was better than nothing at this point. Once he was soaped up, Steve grabbed the handheld hose attachment from the shower head and rinsed off the Soldier's hair and let the water cascade down his back to rinse off all the soap. Then he reached for conditioner, mainly because he'd heard the girls talking numerous times about how tangled their hair gets without conditioner… and since the Soldier had long hair, Steve figured it couldn't hurt. After he rinsed the Soldier's hair a second time and swept the spray over his body to be sure all the soap was rinsed away, he replaced the attachment and shut off the water. Steve then stepped back and pulled a towel down from the rack nearby.
"Can you stand?" he asked. The Soldier raised his head to look up at Steve and Steve couldn't help but smile. He looked like a raggedy man with his scraggly beard growth and long hair now soaking wet. "Come over here," he said, gesturing with his hands in the towel.
The Soldier stood up and stepped out of the shower. Steve draped the towel over his head and began to towel dry the Soldier's hair. When he was sure that was done sufficiently he pulled it away and smiled, trying hard not to openly chuckle at the disheveled appearance. He reminded him of a cat that had been caught in a rain storm. "Here, dry off," he said, handing him a fresh dry towel.
"Steve?"
He heard Natasha calling for him from the other room. "I'll be right back," he told the Soldier. He stepped out of the bathroom to see Natasha looking expectantly in that direction, holding a bag. "Hey," he greeted her.
"Hey," she replied. "How's he doing?" she asked.
"He's doing okay," Steve told her. "Got him into the shower… we're almost done. Going to bring him upstairs, see if we can get him to eat something."
"Good," she said. "I brought some clothes. I was going to suggest a shower so… you're ahead of me on that."
"Oh great, thanks," Steve acknowledged, realizing he hadn't had a change of clothes to dress him in after the shower. He really wasn't good at caring for another person. His heart was in the right place, but supplies weren't always.
The Soldier stepped out of the bathroom still drying his arms with the towel. Natasha was going to turn her back to give him privacy but realized the height of the bed was perfect to shield him from onlookers.
"Come and get these," she told Steve, not wanting to move closer.
He smiled and walked to her to take the bag of clothes from her. "Thanks."
She waited patiently as Steve opened the bag and handed the Soldier briefs, and then socks, and finally jeans and a shirt. Once he had them all on and was more presentable for female company she said, "Okay… we have to do something about that." She walked around the bed pointing at the Soldier's damp tangle of hair.
She dug to the bottom of the bag and took out a comb and a razor with a can of shaving cream. "Come sit over here," she gestured to the chair. The Soldier walked over and sat down.
Natasha proceeded to carefully comb the tangles out of his hair; a few times she had to tug and although his head would pull to the side a little he never reacted to any pain. A few minutes later he was sitting there with his damp hair lying straight and orderly and pulled away from his face.
She handed the comb to Steve who had a small smile on his face. The Soldier sat there patiently, looking up at Steve and wondering why he was smiling. The Soldier sighed softly as he waited. He watched Little Mouse pick up a can and shake it. She popped the lid off and pressed the top causing it to shoot thick white foam into her palm with a loud ssshhhwooooosh
She tossed the can down on the bed and rubbed her palms together as the Soldier watched her with mild interest. She smiled at him as she stepped up close to him and turned her open foam-covered palms toward his face. He sat up straight and leaned away from her slightly. "Noooo… stay right there. You'll like this. Trust me," she told him almost seductively.
"Wait," Steve said and went to the bathroom to get a fresh towel.
Natasha straightened and turned her palms up to keep the foam from sliding off her hands as she waited.
Steve came back out and draped the towel around the Soldier's shoulders, tucking the edges under the open neckline to keep his new shirt from getting messed up, before stepping back.
"Good idea," Natasha mentioned and leaned forward again.
The Soldier swallowed heavily and froze as her hands came closer. When the cool foam touched his cheeks he held his breath and blinked. Natasha smiled at him and slowly let her hands glide over his cheeks, jaw and chin. When he appeared to relax a moment later, letting out a long breath; she carefully moved her hands down his throat to cover the stubble there with foam.
When she moved away to wipe her hands on the towel he had dropped on the floor when he was getting dressed, he looked down at himself as if trying to see the foam on his face. A strand of hair fell forward when he did that and stuck to the foam on his cheek. Natasha dropped the towel at her feet again and picked up the razor. When she turned back to him she stopped and smiled as he looked up at her. She couldn't help but chuckle because he actually looked child-like.
He blinked at her with wide darkened eyes and his face covered in foam. She reached out to pull the hair away from his face, using her fingers to clean the foam off the strands. She replaced his hair behind his ear and then leaned down so they were face to face. She put her finger tip under his chin and tilted his face upward so she could see him more clearly.
She angled the razor carefully and pressed it lightly against his cheek. He stared at her face as she let the razor glide down his cheek, removing the foam and whiskers as it went. Steve picked the wet towel from the floor and held it for her so she could clean the razor of debris as she worked.
Once she had his face shaved, she tilted his head back further and carefully drew the razor down the length of his throat. She had to pause now and again as he swallowed causing his Adam's apple to bob up and down. She wasn't entirely sure how to shave around that but she did the best she could. Once she was done, she took a clean towel from the bathroom and gently wiped the remnants of soap from his face and neck as he stared at her face up close. She smiled at him when she'd meet his gaze.
When she finished, she moved away and Steve got his first look at the Soldier, now clean shaven; his smile faltered and he stared at the man. He looked so young, Steve thought. Bucky looked like he'd barely aged a day since the last time they'd seen each other.
Natasha turned to see Steve staring at the Soldier. She couldn't tell if his expression was one of shock or sorrow or –
"Are you okay?" she asked softly.
"That's Bucky," he nearly whispered as his voice broke.
Natasha turned and looked at the man sitting in the chair. He no longer looked very menacing or like the assassin everyone feared. He looked innocent and new… and young. She smiled at him, Steve's words echoing in her head. That's Bucky
"Ready to get some supper?" she asked. Her question was for both of them, but Steve was the only one who nodded. She turned to look at him still smiling. "Ready to go show him off?"
Steve looked at her and then he smiled too. "Yeah," he said. "Come on. Let's get something to eat."
The three entered the common area and Steve left the Soldier with Nat as he went to see what was offered for supper. He greeted Sam, Tony and Clint who were still visiting after their meal at a table closer to the kitchen.
"Hey, Steve," Sam greeted him in return as he stopped beside the table. "How's your friend doing?"
"See for yourself," Steve told him, gesturing toward a table nearby.
Natasha had chosen a table a short distance from the others where they could have a quiet meal without too much distraction. She chose one where the Soldier could sit with his back to the wall. She'd noticed he was more comfortable that way, and she remembered her own need to do that when she had first arrived at S.H.I.E.L.D. and again when she was brought here to start her new life.
Sam looked over and Tony and Clint had to turn slightly to look over their shoulders. Tony took off his glasses as if what he was seeing was distorted somehow by the lenses.
"I hope I look that good when I'm ninety years old," Clint remarked with a crooked grin.
"You don't look that good now," Tony countered.
"What the hell?" Sam exclaimed, keeping his voice quiet. "He doesn't even look like the same guy."
"Amazing what a shower and shave can do, huh?" Steve said with a smile.
"That's just ridiculous," Sam commented tossing his napkin onto the table as if irritated and Steve laughed softly. "Super soldiers…" Sam said, shaking his head.
Steve continued his way into the kitchen area and looked under lids before grabbing three plates to fill. He put a thick slab of meatloaf, with a scoop of mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables onto each plate and carried them over to the table, balancing one on his forearm. When he reached the table, Natasha relieved him of two of them and placed one on the table in front of the Soldier.
"I'll get utensils and drinks," Steve mentioned. He looked at the Soldier and hesitated a moment and then said, "Bucky - what do you want to drink?" The Soldier looked up at him with a tense expression. Steve wasn't sure if it was because he called him Bucky or because he didn't know what his choices were. He dropped his gaze; looking a little confused so Steve continued, "You can have water, milk, juice, coffee… tea…"
"Want some milk?"
An image flashed in his head of another blond man asking him that question. It wasn't this man though… no, it was his master… Pierce.
"The timetable has changed," Pierce continued as he walked around the kitchen island toward him. "Two targets, Level Six.
He looked at Natasha and the man standing beside the table. He got the strong sense that these two were the Level Six targets he'd been charged to take out and lowered his gaze again.
"Buck?" Steve said to get his attention.
The sound of the single syllable word startled the Soldier slightly. He kept his gaze lowered and said, "Water… if that's all right… please."
Steve stared at his friend, completely aware of the almost timid manner he used in asking for his choice of drinks. "Yes, that's quite all right. You can have anything you want."
"I'm only allowed water," the Soldier informed him, his gaze still averted. "Handlers said doctors don't… other stuff isn't good… can interfere with medications."
"Medications -," Steve said through gritted teeth. "That's what they call what they do to you? Medication-."
The Soldier looked up at him, noting the aggressive tone in his voice. Steve nodded and tried to keep his emotions in check. The idea that the Soldier had been so tightly controlled, and denied so much, infuriated him. Natasha looked up at him too and cleared her throat to get his attention. When Steve looked at her she shook her head briefly. Steve got the message.
"I'll have water too," he said.
"Water sounds great," Natasha added with a smile.
Steve turned and went to get their drinks.
When he returned to the table with the utensils and drinks, he handed them out and the Soldier reached for the cold bottle. He drank down half of it in one long drink and put it down on the table.
The three dug into their evening meal and when the Soldier placed a piece of meatloaf in his mouth his eyes widened. He chewed it slowly, focused on the different flavors seasoning the ground beef. He looked at Steve and then Natasha with wide eyes and she thought he was about to smile, but he didn't quite make it that far. Seeing the Soldier enjoying a piece of meatloaf as if it was the greatest thing he'd ever eaten, pulled back Steve's anger. His friend was experiencing a new awakening to the world around him… Steve smiled and popped a piece into his own mouth and enjoyed the meatloaf from a different perspective.
The rest of their meal was peaceful, without conversation. Natasha and Steve just smiled at each other now and again as the Soldier showed them how to enjoy a routine meal.