Chapter 1
Hot coffee burns the tip of his tongue, Bucky can't suppress an annoyed hiss.
“Fuck. What's the point of making it so damn hot if we barely got five minutes to have one,” he grumbles, resisting the urge to kick the coffee machine.
There's only two hours left of his shift, but Bucky already wants it to end and get home. The ER hasn't been that busy today, but this is his fourth night shift this week and he's ready to spend the next thirty six hours under soft blankets, his weight in junk food by his side and a romcom marathon playing. Also, sleep.
“Bucky, there's someone in curtain five, do you mind checking? I have to go up to Peds to get some meds that we ran out of.” The voice of Melissa, a sweet middle aged woman, resonates through the nurse station, making Bucky look up from his still boiling coffee.
“Uh, sure, don't worry,” he waves for her to go.
“Thanks, you're a sweetheart,” she exclaims as she rushes off.
Bucky puts down the cup, grabs the tablet that Melissa left on the desk and gets on his way to the ER. Please, let it be something normal, he prays.
*****
Normal is one way to put it, though.
Dozens of possible scenarios run through Bucky's mind every time he's about to draw the privacy curtain, but he never would've imagined that the one and only Captain America would be the one sitting on the side of the bed.
“Um, hi,” Bucky says slowly, making the man look up from the floor. He's wearing a deep frown on his face that soon disappears when he spots Bucky.
“Hey,” he responds, his voice deep and a bit rough, “sorry for the hours, I really didn't want to come here but my friends kinda made me?”
Bucky just stares at him, because of his answer but also because he's completely covered in soot. The almost yellowish hair that Bucky is used to seeing on TV is now light brown and he's still wearing his Captain America uniform which is also covered in a layer of dirt. And yet Bucky can't help but find the man in front of him incredibly beautiful.
He has a faint stubble covering his jaw, a crooked nose that actually looks good on his face and ocean blue eyes that are nearly covered by hair due to its messy state.
Bucky gives himself another second to appreciate the view before shaking his head and focusing on his actual job.
“That’s okay. I'm Bucky, one of the night shift nurses today,” he starts, the words flowing automatically, and checks the tablet for information of his state and motive of consultation. “An abdominal wound, is that right?” he asks.
“Yes,” the man responds and looks at Bucky awkwardly, “should I-” he asks while gesturing to his torso.
Bucky's brain doesn't cooperate and it takes him a few seconds to understand what he means.
“Oh, of course. Take the uh- suit off if you can, please.” His voice coming out a bit strangled.
C’mon man, you ask people every day to take off their clothes for examination, this isn't any different, Bucky reproaches himself.
He diverts his eyes from the blond when he starts zipping down the top part, paying attention to his tablet. The screen is pitch black, but nobody needs to know that.
When he looks up again, the man has the suit jacket open and a compression undershirt rolled up, showing a fairly large laceration that takes away Bucky's attention from the exposed skin and muscles.
“Um, did a doctor take a look at that first?” Bucky asks, not really knowing how to approach the situation.
“Yeah, I mean-” he shrugs, “JARVIS keeps up with all of our vital constants when we are in the Tower and Banner took a look at it, said that maybe I should get it checked out and cleaned. It's not a big deal, but Sam and Nat bugged me to come down to the hospital.”
Bucky nods as if he understood that first part. Then wonders who Sam and Nat are- wait. Right. The Falcon and the Black Widow, because he's talking to an actual superhero who is friends with other superheroes. Well, he at least trusts Doctor Banner’s judgement. He's a serene man and a great doctor. He assists sometimes at the hospital, Bucky has worked with him a couple of times.
Now that he thinks about it, the hospital being so close to the Tower, the fact that it's funded by Tony Stark and that one of the Avengers works actively here, makes this encounter with Captain America way less surprising. Bucky has only been working in this place for six weeks, so it was probably a matter of time getting an Avenger as his patient. Next day he'll ask around if someone else has ever had to patch up a superhero.
“Well, let's take a look,” Bucky says as he grabs a swivel stool and brings it close to the Captain, the proximity making Bucky's heart speed up a little.
He looks intently at the deep cut that goes from the right side of the torso all the way to the center of the abdomen. It has stitches holding the skin together, and although they aren't awfully done, the thread is weirdly thin. It's suppurating a little in the gaps between the stitches, oozing a bit of blood.
“Did ‘em myself.”
Bucky looks up from the line of stitches at the source of the triumphant sounding voice. “Yeah. I can tell,” he deadpans.
“Hey! I'll have you know, my Ma was a nurse. And a great one at that.” Now the voice is laced with defensiveness, there's also a small frown on Captain Rogers’ face, but with the way the corners of his mouth are a bit upturned, Bucky senses that there's no real heat behind it.
“Then there's no excuse for the clear lack of asepsis while taking care of a wound like this, Captain. Did you do this with a hotel's free sewing kit in a cave?”
When there's no answer, Bucky's eye twitches.
“Did you?!”
“The needle was from an actual emergency kit, it just so happened that there wasn't enough suture thread for both this one and the one on my leg, so I had to rip a piece of thread from my uniform, which obviously wasn't aseptic-”
“You’ve got another injury?!” Bucky screeches.
“-and it wasn't technically a cave, more like a collapsing secret base.” Rogers ends his explanation leaning back on his arms with a smile too big for a man with a wound -wounds, apparently- like this.
“Okay,” Bucky sighs, “let's see the other one.”
When neither of them do anything but look at each other, Bucky nods to the man's legs. A light flush appears on the Captain’s face. That's normal, he thinks, patients are usually embarrassed when they are told to undress. However, there's really no excuse for the way Bucky's ears and cheeks heat up.
He gets up from the swivel stool to give him space to take off the rest of the suit. He also tries to engage in some conversation, just to force himself to not look at the exposed torso and the arm muscles that bulge as he starts fumbling with the belt.
“So, do you guys usually come to Mariah's Memorial after a mission? Or does Stark have his own emergency team?”
Rogers chuckles at the question. “Tony does have some kind of clinic in the Tower, there's JARVIS and Bruce, too. The missions don't usually go so wrong that we need urgent care. Though, I have been in this ER a couple of times before,” he answers as he starts sliding the tac pants down to the knees and sits again on the edge of the bed. The injury is on display now, right in the middle of his leg. The gash looks regular and clean, there's no shrapnel and it doesn't look too infected either.
“What for?” asks Bucky while opening and closing the drawers of a cart, looking for the material he's going to need.
“Um,” he starts, pensive, “there was one time I went inside a falling building to help take civilians out, the floor above me collapsed and I was unconscious for a long time so they ended up bringing me in. Uh, also a couple of months ago. There was this Hydra base hidden inside the cliff side of a mountain, it blew up but I was still inside and I fell to the river that ran next to it. Broke my arm so they had to put it in a cast for five days.” He finishes with a shrug, as if he didn't just recall how tons of debris fell on top of him and how he only needed to wear a cast for a whole broken arm for less than a week and without surgical intervention.
Bucky can't help but stare owlishly at him while holding a metallic tray with his collected stuff.
“It comes with the job,” the Captain adds dismissively.
“Are you sure it does to that extent, though?” Bucky asks cautiously. He doesn't get a response from the man, who sets his jaw and looks to the side avoiding Bucky's gaze.
With the atmosphere heavier than it was two minutes ago, Bucky shakes his head in an attempt to focus, wheels his seat close to the bed again and gets to work. Rogers wasn't lying when he said that he knew a thing or two thanks to his mom, the stitches are even and carefully done given the circumstances. However, because of the appalling state of the thread after hours of friction against the hard cloth, Bucky's going to have to remove it and stitch both wounds again. He explains this aloud and gets a simple ‘Okay’ as a response.
They stay in silence. He tries to be as delicate as he can, even if the procedure must equate to a mosquito bite in comparison to what apparently Rogers endures during Avengers’ missions. His skin is painted in blues and purples, although some of the bruises are already changing to yellow and greenish tones. Bucky asks him if he has any broken ribs, to which the Captain responds that ‘yeah, but I already felt them seal together’.
It makes him wonder, the man probably resigns himself to always be at the receiving end of the worst outcomes of their world-saving operations just because he's enhanced. He does looks like the kind with a martyr complex, Bucky thinks and tsks mentally.
When he's done cleaning and patching up the abdominal wound he can't help but absently, trace the skin next to it as he admires how the tissue, now devoid of dirt and clotted blood, is slowly healing itself.
“Yeah, it's weird to watch. Freaked me out the first time I saw it, too.” The voice comes out in something close to a whisper but startles Bucky anyway.
“Fuck, I- Sorry, Captain Rogers. I didn't mean-” Bucky stammers.
“Don’t worry about it.” He waves a hand dismissively. “And please, call me Steve,” he adds with a small smile.
Bucky just nods before grabbing more gauze and moving on to the leg wound.
*****
When he's finally done, Bucky discards his gloves, gathers all the used material and goes to the closest container to throw it away. He suggests changing as soon as possible into something clean to avoid getting the wounds dirty again and offers a hospital gown until someone could bring in some clothes. Apparently, Rogers is a good strategist outside of the field too because he tells Bucky that he already brought some clean clothes with him.
He draws the curtain again after not hearing any shuffling noises, and gives himself three seconds to take in the appearance of the supersoldier, not anymore dressed in red, white and blue, but wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, a small Avengers logo printed on them. He looks younger. Softer. Vulnerable. A duffle bag, where Bucky assumes he put the suit in, hanging by his side. His posture is relaxed, making his broad shoulders slump a little. He is staring at the floor, revealing a tired expression that quickly disappears after he senses Bucky’s eyes fixated on him.
“Uh, would you like to consult a doctor about taking some antibiotics?” Bucky asks quickly to avoid awkwardness.
Rogers answers with a shake of his head. “That's not necessary. The wounds will probably disappear in a few hours. I don't think there's a risk of infection now that you cleaned ‘em properly. And the serum burns through any meds, anyway.”
“If you're sure, Captain,” Bucky responds, not entirely convinced.
“Steve, please.”
They stay looking at each other in silence, it's not really awkward but Bucky is mentally searching for something else to say, not wanting to send the man home and get back to other patients just yet. But when it seems like Steve is about to say something, the rustling sound of the curtain breaks through.
“Bucky- Oh my! Is that- Are you-” Melissa squeals, which is funny and brings a half-stifled laugh out of Bucky because the woman is not easily surprised. ‘I have seen too much, kid’ as she has said to him numerous times.
“Ma'am,” Rogers says with a short nod of his head and a polite but gentle smile, then sticks his hand out for her to shake, “Steve Rogers, nice meeting you.”
Bucky watches the scene unfold, Melissa clumsily passing a bunch of stuff that she was holding in her right arm to her left. Then vigorously shaking the offered hand.
“Nice to meet you too, Captain Rogers.” She turns to look at Bucky and adds, whispering, “I would have sent you to search for the meds if I'd known this. Lucky you.”
Bucky's eyes snap at Steve, who must have heard what she said, considering his low snort and the pinkish bridge of his nose. Irremediably, he blushes furiously too.
“Um, did you want something or?” he asks, pointedly staring at her.
“Oh, right! Yes. The last two patients left already. I know this was your fourth night this week, and you're still starting. I have to double shift today, anyway, so leave already if you want, kid,” she says while giving his shoulder a little shake.
“Are you sure? I don't mind staying.”
“I promise we got you covered. C'mon, get out of here,” she reassures him.
Melissa leaves after saying goodbyes to both of them, wishing Bucky a great rest day and repeating that it was a pleasure meeting Captain America, which made Steve turn a bit red again.
“She seems nice,” Steve says.
Bucky huffs. “She really is. But I swear I have never seen that woman stutter or have any kind of like- fan behavior towards anybody.”
Steve chuckles softly at that, the sound making Bucky unable to move his gaze from the blond's face and a twin grin to appear on his. The moment goes away fast, though, and they are left in companionable silence that Bucky is forced to break.
“Well, if you're feeling okay and don't have any questions or want to consult a doctor… you're cleared to go,” he explains, if a bit reluctantly.
“Right,” Steve says, an expression on his face that Bucky can't read. He lingers, his hands fisting the strap of the duffle bag tightly. “Thank you for patching me up, Bucky.”
Hearing his name in that deep tone makes Bucky shiver slightly. He tries to hide the effect it had on him by waving the man off. “Eh, it's my job.”
Steve smiles. “Well, see you around.” Bucky acknowledges it with a nod before they get out of the cubicle, each one walking in a different direction.
******
Already changed out of his scrubs, Bucky walks to the nurse station to check if Melissa was around and thank her again, but finds the place empty, so he makes a mental note to text her later.
His stomach grumbles suddenly, which reminds him of his abandoned coffee. He looks around and finds it right where he left it. He picks it up before leaving the room and makes a beeline to the main entrance of the hospital.
******
The characteristic cool air of early dawn hits him when the automatic doors open for him. Just a few steps and he'll be free from these white walls for at least a day.
Don't get him wrong though, Bucky actually likes his job, but he's been taking consecutive night shifts mainly because of money. He still has a fair share of college and nursing school bills to pay and living in New York hasn't gotten any less expensive since he left the city when he was a kid.
In a subconscious movement as he approaches the exit, he brings the cup of coffee that he's been holding to his lips, giving it a long sip. An atrocious mistake, because the taste of cold, sour coffee now invades his mouth.
“Oh, fuckyou,” he complains aloud. He then stomps towards the closest trash can and throws the cup as if it had personally offended him -which it did- and dramatically sighs. Luckily, there's no one around to notice him. Or so he thought, because when he turns around to get going and finally get out, he bumps with someone.
A tall, built someone.
“I'm sorry, didn't see you there- Oh.” Bucky stops dead in his tracks at the sight of no other than Steve Rogers standing right in front of him. “How are you still here?”
“I got lost,” Steve explains with a sheepish smile. “They told me to go to the main entrance instead of using the ER exit, and well, it took me a while.”
A snort escapes Bucky at the mental image of the man going around the corridors looking like a lost puppy. “Sorry,” he apologizes, though he can't suppress a grin.
“Yeah yeah, laugh about it,” Steve huffs and rolls his eyes. “What did that coffee do to you, by the way?” he asks with a glint in his eyes.
The question makes Bucky flush in embarrassment. “You saw that?”
Steve shrugs in response. Bucky indulges him.
“Agh, the damn coffee always comes out boiling hot. I was about to let it cool a little but then I had to go to, and now is fucking cold. It didn't even take me that long to redo your stitches, but that thing was undrinkable now.”
Steve is the one who looks like he's trying really hard not to laugh at him now. “So it was kinda my fault huh?” Bucky glares at him. “C’mon, I'll invite you to coffee as an apology. Is there any place you usually go to around here?”
Bucky is surprised by the suggestion, his mind still processing what the man just said.
“I mean, if you want to go home… I get it, you're probably tired and want to get out of here,” Steve says when he gets no response from a brain-rebooting Bucky.
“No, it's just- you really don't have to do that. It's no one's fault that my coffee got cold, you know. Physics or something,” Bucky rushes to explain. At the expectant look on the Captain's face, he sighs and finally concedes, “well, I usually go to that coffee shop,” he points at the establishment that is right across the street, “it's also a bakery, so they are open from 5am or so. It's pretty calm because only night shift staff goes at the early hours.”
“Sounds great to me! I don't know when was the last time I ate something, so yeah, if they've got something to eat too, that's perfect,” Steve declares with a broad smile.
******
“Wait, what exactly is ‘JARVIS’?” Bucky asks while dipping a corner of a croissant in his hot cappuccino.
“Oh, that's Tony's personal AI. It's installed in the whole Tower and I think in his Iron Man suit, too,” Steve explains, his voice a little muffled by the sticky remains of his third cinnamon roll. “He keeps tabs with everyone that gets in and out of the building, locks… whatever. I had to get used to it though. Hearing a voice coming out of nowhere is kinda disturbing.”
They are the only ones sitting inside, only a few people that Bucky recognizes as his co-workers come in to pick up their to-go cups. It's still dark outside, the start of the day barely making itself known. It was a blessing that John and Maggie, the couple who runs the bakery, already had a fresh batch out. Not that it lasted them too long, thanks to Steve's appetite.
“When was the last time you ate something?” Bucky asks, laughing at Steve after he attacks one of the two pain au chocolat that he ordered right after he tried the first cinnamon roll.
“Mm… I think I had some protein bars here and there during the mission, but my last meal was maybe… like close to seventy hours ago?” He's busy taking a huge bite off the baked goods to be aware of the way Bucky's eyes widen at his answer.
“So you were walking around with not one, but two deep lacerations, broken ribs and on top of that, barely eating?!”
“The serum's gotta be good for something.” Steve shrugs. And for some reason, Bucky is not satisfied with that response. He doesn't want to pry, so he lets it slip and leaves it at that.
They talk for another thirty minutes. By this time, Bucky's shift would have already ended and on his way home to finally sleep. However, he finds that being here, with Steve Rogers explaining how much the area where he used to live has changed, is just as gratifying.
It's easy to talk to Steve, he listens and pays attention closely while also providing his own opinion and perception on things. Bucky tells him that he spent his childhood in Brooklyn until his family moved to Indiana, and how after finishing nursing school he decided that he wanted to come back to the big city. Steve recalls places that are still pretty similar to what once were. They also discover that the building where Bucky lived was just a few streets away from Steve's old place. Bucky shares stories about his three younger sisters and Steve tells him a few light and funny anecdotes from his latest missions.
He discovers something else about Steve. Captain America always looks serious and composed whenever he sees him on the news giving speeches or in leaked videos of the Avengers fighting whatever new villain there is that week. The shield and the uniform giving him a diplomatic and solemn air. Steve Rogers though, seems to be more like a little shit. A real punk. He makes smart and witty comments, and for every teasing that Bucky does, he doubles it and gives it back.
Bucky likes it.
None of them notices the first sun rays that seep through the glass doors and windows of the bakery. It isn't until Steve starts receiving a bunch of text messages -that he explains are from Natasha- reminding him that he has a debrief reunion in less than forty minutes, that they get up from their seats.
“So you're not going to get any sleep until after debrief?” Bucky asks more seriously, as he suspects that if the man hadn't had time to eat during that mission, there's no way that he slept at all.
“Not really, no,” Steve says, raising one shoulder.
“You know, you really should rest, your wounds-” Bucky stops when Steve grabs the hem of his hoodie and lifts it up just enough to show the injury. Is not the gesture that makes Bucky shut up but the sight of the man's abdomen.
There's barely any remains of the incision. The skin in that area is raised and pink already. Even the stitches look funny, as if it was one of those fake cuts sewed with thread that people make with latex on Halloween. The bruises aren't there anymore, his torso all milky skin.
“The scar won't disappear completely but,” he says with a dismissive wave. “You don't have to worry.”
He lowers the hoodie, yet Bucky can't stop staring to the spot where the skin was exposed half a second ago. He doesn't know what to think. Yes, that supersoldier serum does seem to work pretty well, he's witness to that. But. It would be okay for Steve to demand a regular human schedule, to not have to endure what he does just because his body can handle it. Bucky wants to tell him that, but they are just a tad above nurse and patient. They had coffee together and talked for a bit, they are acquaintances at best. It's not Bucky's place to call him out on his self-sacrificing bullshit.
So they part with amicable smiles and goodbyes. Bucky watches Steve cross the street, going in the general direction of the Avengers Tower. He turns around and waves to Bucky, who waves back. When the blond disappears between buildings, Bucky heads to his usual subway station. The ride home is quiet, giving him time to think about the events of the past two hours.
Finally in his tiny apartment, he heads straight to bed. He knows it's gross not taking a shower beforehand, but that's a problem for tomorrow Bucky who will also have to do bedsheet laundry.
Despite all of his efforts, his last thoughts of the day end up being about a certain blond and how their paths will unlikely ever cross again. Maybe save for another visit to the ER, but that doesn't mean that Bucky would be his assigned nurse again. Plus, he actually prefers Steve to stay away from a hospital for as long as possible; not seeing him again is better than having to watch the guy lay on a bed semi-conscious and dressed in light blue.
It's a shame, really.