Солнышко

‘Man, just a heads up, your boy is not happy with you’.

Steve opens his eyes and blinks slowly. He’s lying on his back. It’s warm. The pillow under his head makes a soft crunching noise. Hospital, Steve thinks blurrily. He turns his head gently to see Sam leaning back in the bedside chair, head angled towards the sound of muffled shouting coming from the hallway.

He tries to ease himself slightly more upright but aborts prematurely, gasping at the feeling of stitches pulling in his abdomen.

‘Hey, take it easy’. Somehow Sam looks both concerned and vaguely amused. ‘It’s over. We’re good’.

Steve relaxes back into the elevated mattress as various machines whir softly in the background. There had been aliens…? No, robots. Flying robots…? With guns… definitely with guns. He hadn’t seen that last one. And then somebody was carrying him…

Sam

‘Hi’ Steve mumbles hazily. ‘Hey’ Sam laughs gently at the delay.

‘How you feeling?’

Steve thinks about it for a bit. He can’t feel his toes but that’s actually kind of nice. He can’t feel much of anything, just a sort of all-pervasive, residual stiffness; he definitely doesn’t feel any desire to move any time soon.

He eventually settles on ‘fuzzy’. Sam nods with a knowing half-smile.

‘Yeah I think they had to pump you full of pretty much everything they had’

Steve eyes the drip to his left and grunts in acknowledgement.

He’s in the middle of mustering the energy to ask after the others when they’re both distracted by the sound of something heavy crashing into something else with considerable force.

‘Bucky’ Steve rasps

‘Incoming’ Sam confirms gently.

The ambient shouting has now evolved into a recognisably Russian tirade featuring a familiar female voice.

‘Man I don’t know how she does it’ Sam says thoughtfully, ‘She was with him before they called Dr Banner to give him something to calm him down. Anyway, I think that’s probably my cue to leave. I’ll drop by another time’. Sam makes his way to the door before looking back at Steve and saluting lazily.

‘Oh yeah, don’t move your hand. It’s fractured’ He adds, smiling apologetically. ‘Swift recovery, my man. Good to see you’

Steve tips his head back into the pillows and closes his eyes.

‘Thanks…Sam’

‘No worries, no worries’

Sam slips out and Steve lies back, struggling to count backwards from ten. A slow breeze disturbs the plastic blinds over the window as his brain idles, supplying a looped sequence of a young boy with dark hair running through busy streets, ducking into alleyways, scrambling over walls. Calling out. Looking for something.

Someone.

‘чёрт …’

Steve peels his eyes open to see Bucky standing in the doorway. He feels a rush of warmth that may or may not be something to do with the drugs.

‘Hey…’ he slurs, attempting to smile with the side of his face that doesn’t feel like it’s on fire.

Bucky doesn’t respond, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move. He’s so still Steve’s not quite sure that he isn’t hallucinating. Bucky’d be his first choice though, if he was. Hallucinating that is. He supposes drowsily that he must look really bad if Bucky’s looking at him like that. Worse than pneumonia, his brain supplies sluggishly.

‘You should quit… terrorizin’… the staff, Buck’ he mumbles, but that doesn’t get him anything either. Bucky just keeps staring, eyes flicking over to the machinery and then back at Steve. He’s clutching his left arm across his body like he does when he’s agitated.

Steve sighs deeply and lets the smile slip away. He tries to think of something else to say, something to stop Bucky’s shoulders from trembling.

Turns out it’s quite hard to think on a truckload of morphine.

He’s unsurprised when Nat appears in the doorway and says something to Bucky too low for him to hear. Bucky whimpers almost inaudibly as she places her hand on the nape of his neck. He leans into her, eyes still locked on Steve, wide and red-rimmed.

It’s a manifestation of an intimacy that Steve has very little insight into, being almost exclusively conducted in Russian in the moments when Steve doesn’t know what to do.

Bucky refers to it as solidarity.

Natasha calls it ‘babysitting’.

She ruffles Bucky’s hair as he begins to look visibly soothed. She says something else Steve can’t catch and Bucky turns away, leaves.

Steve stares after him, barely even seeing Nat as she steps further into the room and puts her hand on the back of the bedside chair.

‘He needs a minute’

Steve makes a strangely childish, dejected noise of affirmation.

She sits down, pokes the crunchy hospital blankets, makes a face.

‘These are gross’

‘Lay…off’ Steve breathes absently.

She grins at puts her feet up on the bed, toes brushing his shins.

‘Good to see you, Rogers’

‘Hmpf’ Steve huffs with the hint of a smile, ‘gimme…the bad news.

‘I’m a little hurt, Cap’

‘Yeah yeah’ he smiles

‘It’s pretty rough, collapsed lung, perfor-’

‘No no’ Steve says almost impatiently, ‘not me. Him’

Nat only spares a second for her incredulity, raising her eyebrows minutely before responding.

‘He’s been freaking out for hours. Technically he’s sedated at the moment. Emphasis on the technically. Oh and you’re gonna get a bill for replacing several sheets of plate glass’

She pauses and gives him a long look before continuing.

 ‘They’re putting him back in custody while you’re here’

It takes Steve a moment to put it together, anxiety burning through the haze of pain medication.

‘What? Why?! He’s… fine! He-’

‘Steve. Come on. He just threatened twelve people, caused a minor public disturbance, and threw up twice on the way over here. He was out of his mind when you went down’

‘I don’t... see-’

Nat holds up her hand, gestures dismissively.

‘Save it. It’s happening. Bottom line, your custodial obligations are not being met if you aren’t available to exercise them twenty-four/seven’

‘Sam…could-’

‘No’ she says shaking her head, ‘don’t fight me on this. It’s coming from the top. Damage control’

‘He’s getting…better’ Steve wheezes weakly, the fingers of his good hand clenched into the blankets.

‘Steve, He’s ok with this. I’ve already spoken to him’, she says gently

‘He won’t sleep…in there… his gets- his head-’

She sighs and lowers her feet to the floor. She knows. She’s heard the screaming. Seen the corresponding welts on Steve’s face.

‘Easy’ she soothes as Steve gets his breathing back under control. ‘That’s a conversation you need to have with him, not me’ she says, looking Steve in the eye before smiling brightly and inclining her head towards the door. ‘Big boys solve their own problems. Isn’t that right James?’

There’s Bucky in the doorway. Standing a little straighter. He steps forwards and nods once, almost imperceptibly and seemingly more to himself than anyone else. Steve feels an almost overwhelming urge to reach out with both hands. Definitely the drugs then, he thinks, rubbing his cheek into the pillow lazily.

Nat stands up elegantly and gesticulates towards the chair with a flourish

‘Если бы молодость знала, если бы старость могла’, she says pointedly, ‘make it count’.

Bucky makes an impatient noise despite the dark colouring around his eyes.

‘Enough’

Nat actually sticks her tongue out as she disappears into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her in an imitation of privacy.

Bucky sits down heavily and rubs the back of his neck with his left hand.

Steve stares at Bucky’s metal elbow and looks faintly confused before blinking slowly and beaming.

‘What did… she say?’

‘Ah she’s just makin’ fun’

‘Hmm... hi…’

Bucky’s face softens into a small smile.

‘Hey’

‘Can I have…’ Steve gesticulates limply with his good hand.

‘Hm? Oh yeah, yeah. Here’

Bucky reaches for the plastic cup of water by the bed and carefully holds it up to Steve’s mouth, tipping it slowly so Steve barely has to move.

He remembers a woman’s voice, he thinks, gently, James, that’s it, Stevie’s real sick.

‘Mm…thanks...’ Steve sighs, before belatedly noticing the tremor in Bucky’s hand.

‘Hey…you ok?’

Bucky looks almost offended. Steve would probably laugh if he wasn’t so damn tired.

‘Steve, I’m not the one-’

‘Shut up, it’s you… I’m asking, idiot’

Bucky breathes out heavily and leans forward, elbows pressing down on the bed.

‘Yeah. Better now’ he murmurs, smiling faintly.

Steve reaches across for Bucky’s right hand. Bucky stares down at their linked fingers, at Steve’s thumb smoothing over his knuckles, at the catheter biting into Steve’s forearm, the cannula across his face. The brace, the drip, the-

‘Hey, I’m… ok…s’nostalgic… actually’

Bucky looks up at Steve’s face briefly and makes a soft broken noise before leaning back in the chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s a scene so familiar from their life before that it leaves Steve feeling a little dizzy.

‘You know’ Bucky says after a while, ‘I don’t have clearance to be in this building by myself’

‘I-’ Steve starts, but Bucky raises a hand dismissively.

‘I wouldn’t trust me either. S’how it should be’

He looks away. Steve frowns.

‘You been… waiting long?’

‘Yeah’ Bucky concedes quietly after another pause, ‘you’ve uh… been in surgery for three hours…’

Steve sighs softly and closes his eyes tugging Bucky’s hand further towards him.

‘Sorry’

Bucky smiles sadly and presses his mouth against the back of Steve’s hand.

‘No you aren’t’ he says against Steve’s knuckles. He was so scared, so fucking scared.

‘Never am’ Steve agrees lightly

Bucky smiles before glancing over his shoulder at the door.

‘They’re putting me…back…’

‘Temp- temporarily…’ Steve insists sleepily

Bucky rubs the back of his hand over his face and sighs. ‘Well I guess they haven’t put me down yet…’

‘You’re not… a dog’ Steve murmurs fiercely

Bucky shrugs noncommittally, ‘its fine. No cuffs this time. Natalia’s gonna see if I can get a cell with a tv’

‘Bucky-’

‘I gotta go in five though’

‘Bucky-’

‘Leave it, alright. I’ll be fine’

‘Bucky!’ Steve rasps, fingers tightening around Bucky’s wrist.

‘Look, can we argue about this later when you’re not…’

For a second Steve thinks Bucky might cry. Then the smile is back, the old one that’s all bravado. Steve kinda loves it, because it’s all Bucky. He also kinda hates it.

‘Y’know, I was starting to miss eating off a plastic tray. Plus I sleep much better when they shoot me full of-’

‘-Stop….it’

‘Steve, I- I don’t-’.

Steve makes a soft noise in his throat and reaches out weakly. Bucky leans forward instinctively. The base of his neck is damp; Steve can feel the pulse thrumming violently under his fingers, way too fast.

'Had enough a sitting by your bedside, Rogers' Bucky mumbles weakly.

‘I’ll take…time off’ Steve mumbles drowsily, fingers curling loosely against the back of Bucky’s neck.

They sit like that for a while until Steve’s breathing starts sounding laboured. Bucky fiddles with the drip before bringing their hands together on top of the blanket. There’s a knock on the door, the 30 second warning.

‘I gotta go, Stevie’ he breathes, rubbing his free hand gently against the blanket over Steve’s thigh.

Steve frowns loosely with one side of his mouth and makes an almost inaudible sound of distress as Bucky starts pulling away.

‘Buck…?’

‘Mmm?’

‘Where’s…Ma…?’

Bucky makes a choked noise. God that takes him back. Straining against a strong arm holding him around his middle, trying to see Steve, to tell him a story to stop the shaking.

He brushes the hair away from Steve’s face almost floored by the whispered memory of doubled-up socks and clicking rosary beads.

‘She just went out, pal, she’ll-she’ll be back soon’

Steve turns his face into the pillow and makes a pleased sound, smiling dopily as his hand slackens against Bucky’s palm.

‘Stay…’ he breathes, slipping back under before Bucky can compose himself enough to lie again.

He stands slowly, wipes his eyes, kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth, the side that isn’t all cut up. ‘Солнышко’ he murmurs wetly, brushing his fingers against a plane of unbroken skin near Steve’s ear.

‘Cute’ Nat calls from the doorway, arms folded, expression on the smug side of playful. ‘Is it the hair or the smile?’

Bucky ignores her as he steps out into the hallway in favour of glancing warily at the armed operatives that flank its sides. He knows only half the guns in the corridor are tranqs.

She laughs when he puts his hands up in an overtly casual gesture of surrender.

‘You’re no fun anymore’

‘Shut up, Natalia’ he says mildly as she does him the honour of holstering her guns.

‘You ready?’

‘Да’, he says, mouth twisting into something that isn’t really a smile.

He can still feel Steve’s fingers between his own.

Ready never had anything to do with it.