
Chapter 7
The elevator doors closed softly, enveloping Bucky and Sam in the intimate space as they descended to the Radiology and Imaging Department. Bucky stood with his back against the wall, his posture rigid and his hands clenched at his sides. Across from him, Sam leaned casually, his gaze fixed on Bucky, silently attempting to discern his friend's thoughts.
Each floor passed with a subdued beep, punctuating the tense silence until Sam finally broke it with a low, steady voice. "You okay there, Buck?"
Bucky hesitated, meeting Sam's eyes in the elevator's mirrored wall. "Yeah," he replied slowly, "Just trying to process everything, you know?"
Understanding the gravity of the situation, Sam nodded solemnly. "It's a lot to take in, but Dr. Strange is one of the best. He'll figure this out."
Grateful for Sam's attempt to provide reassurance, Bucky nodded. "Yeah, I know. I just didn't expect this," he admitted quietly.
Sam offered a sympathetic grin. "I hear you. But hey, we've faced worse, right?"
In return, Bucky managed a faint smile, appreciating Sam's effort to lighten the mood. "Yeah, that's true. A brain scan's gotta be easier than Hydra."
As the elevator chimed softly, signaling their arrival at the 2nd floor, the doors slid open to reveal a corridor lined with medical offices and examination rooms. They walked together towards the reception desk, where a nurse warmly greeted them.
"James Barnes," Bucky said quietly, forcing a smile despite his discomfort. "Dr. Strange mentioned he'd be sending over the orders," he added, his words rushed with nervousness.
The nurse nodded reassuringly, her fingers typing quickly into her computer. "Yes, I have the orders right here, Mr. Barnes. Can you confirm your date of birth for me?"
Bucky hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly replied, "March 10th, 1917."
The nurse continued typing for a moment longer, then nodded again and held up a hospital bracelet, motioning for Bucky to let her put it on him. Bucky extended his flesh wrist, and she gently secured the bracelet, his hand trembling slightly.
Sam leaned over with a supportive grin. "Hey, Buck, did they have to translate your records from hieroglyphics? I bet it took a team of archaeologists."
The nurse chuckled warmly at Sam's quip while finishing with the bracelet but said nothing in response. She simply smiled kindly at Bucky and gestured down the hallway. "Mr. Barnes, if you follow me, we'll get started with your CT scan."
Bucky chuckled softly at Sam's attempt to lighten the mood and nodded appreciatively. He followed the nurse down the hallway, while Sam headed towards the waiting room, promising to wait for him to return.
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As Bucky followed the nurse down the hallway toward the CT scan room, each step echoed softly against the tiled floor, matching the anxious beating of his heart. He kept his gaze fixed ahead, trying to steady his racing thoughts and the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. The sterile hospital atmosphere stirred memories he had deeply buried—memories of medical experiments and injuries endured during his time as the Winter Soldier. The faint scent of antiseptic triggered a familiar unease, but he steeled himself, focusing on the present and the task at hand.
The nurse took him to a small changing area next to the CT scan room. She smiled and handed him a hospital gown, telling him to change before stepping out. Bucky took a deep breath and removed his gloves, carefully revealing the intricate mechanisms underneath. He then shrugged off his weathered leather jacket, worn down from years of use.
Pausing to look at himself in the tiny mirror, Bucky was still amazed by the technology of his prosthetic after all these years. His human arm seemed almost fragile compared to the metallic black and gold of the vibranium. Tracing the gold with his flesh hand up to his shoulder, he couldn't help but notice how the scars stood out against his bare skin. The deep scarring where Hydra had integrated the metal into his body looked almost grotesque under the fluorescent lighting. It was a harsh reminder of the experiments, the pain, and the loss of identity he had endured as the Winter Soldier—a past that still haunted him, even as he fought to move forward.
With another deep breath, Bucky slipped into the hospital gown. Its light fabric hung loosely around him, making him feel vulnerable in the clinical setting. After adjusting it with a slight tug, he straightened up and ran a hand through his hair. Turning to the mirror one last time, he shifted his gaze from the gleaming vibranium arm to his human features and met his own reflection with a determined stare.
"I'm James Bucky Barnes," he said aloud, his voice steady and firm. The words grounded him, reinforcing his sense of identity and purpose. "It's 2024, and these doctors are here to help me, not hurt me."
Feeling a surge of confidence, Bucky nodded at his reflection and left the mirror behind. He was ready to face whatever lay ahead, resolute and unwavering.
Bucky entered the CT scan room, where a large white machine with a narrow bed dominated the stark space. The technician, Alex greeted Bucky warmly with a friendly smile that reminded him of Steve.
"Hey there, Mr. Barnes," Alex chirped. "I'm Alex. Let me walk you through what we're going to do today."
He explained the procedure, "We'll start with a CT scan of your brain. This machine takes detailed X-ray images from different angles to create cross-sectional images of your brain. It helps us see any abnormalities or issues that might need attention."
Next, Alex prepared an IV for the contrast dye injection. "We use contrast dye to enhance the visibility of certain structures or abnormalities in the scan," he explained, gently placing the IV in Bucky's arm and securing it in place. "It's a common procedure and helps us get a clearer picture."
"Don't worry, this won't take long," Alex assured him, adjusting the equipment with practiced efficiency. "You might feel a slight warmth or metallic taste when the contrast goes in, but that's perfectly normal."
Once the IV was set up, Alex draped a soft, warm blanket over Bucky's body. "Alright, Mr. Barnes, I'm going to position you for the scan now," he said, guiding Bucky into the correct position on the narrow bed.
"You doing okay there, Mr. Barnes?" Alex asked, sensing Bucky's tension. "Would you like me to play some music for you? It might help you relax during the scan. I can play basically any song."
Bucky hesitated for a moment, considering the offer. "Do you have anything from the '40s?" he asked quietly.
Understanding the significance of Bucky's request, the technician nodded with empathy. "Sure thing. Let me find something for you." He gently tapped a few keys on the nearby computer, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his focused expression. Soon, the gentle, nostalgic strains of a big band tune filled the room. The familiar melody enveloped Bucky, calming his frayed nerves in a way that surprised him. It was music he hadn't heard in decades—music Hydra would never have allowed him to enjoy.
"Alright, we're beginning now," Alex informed Bucky through a speaker in the room. "Stay still and breathe normally. It'll be over before you know it."
As the CT scanner hummed and rotated around him, Bucky closed his eyes and let the music transport him back to a simpler time. He recalled the vibrant energy of dancing with a girl in Brooklyn, the echoes of laughter filling the warm evening air. The memories were bittersweet, tinged with the knowledge of all that had been lost, including Steve and his family. But in that moment, the music anchored him, grounding him in a reality separate from Hydra's grip. It reminded him of the person he once was, the person he had fought so hard to reclaim.
The technician checked on him periodically through the speaker, coming in once to inject the contrast before stepping back behind the protective divider.
Bucky lay still, his mind drifting between memories of the past and uncertain hopes for the future. The music provided a steady rhythm, a soothing backdrop to the mechanical sounds of the scan.
Minutes passed slowly, and finally, Alex returned to Bucky's side. "We're all set, Mr. Barnes," he said kindly, helping Bucky sit up and removing the IV.
Bucky nodded gratefully, a small but genuine smile playing on his lips. "Thanks for the music, it helped."
The technician nodded knowingly. "I'm glad to hear that. Music has a way of bringing us comfort in times of uncertainty. You did great, Mr. Barnes. We'll get these images to Dr. Strange right away."
Bucky managed a weak smile of gratitude, his mind still racing with unanswered questions and lingering doubts. He hurried back to the changing area and dressed quickly, consumed by thoughts of what lay ahead—waiting for the results and facing the reality of whatever the scan might reveal.
In the waiting room, Sam had been patiently sitting reading a magazine. His eyes lit up as he saw Bucky approaching.
"How'd it go in there, Buck?" Sam asked, his voice full of curiosity.
Bucky exhaled slowly, a weight lifting off his shoulders now that the procedure was over. "It went okay," he replied softly, his gaze briefly flickering to the floor before meeting Sam's eyes. "The guy was good. He played some old music that helped."
Sam nodded, his expression softening with understanding. "Good to hear, man. I'm glad it’s over."
"Yeah," Bucky replied, his voice steadier now. "Me too."
They shared a moment of quiet understanding before Sam reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Bucky's shoulder.
"Now we wait for the results," Bucky said, his tone resolved. "Whatever they find, we'll deal with it."
Sam nodded firmly, a smile spreading across his face. "I’m starving. Let’s go get a cheeseburger.”
Bucky laughed, relieved, as he followed Sam back to the elevator, feeling accomplished despite the uncertainty ahead.