Chapter 8
Bucky Barnes wearily collapsed onto the worn couch in his sparsely furnished apartment, feeling the weight of the last couple of days settle heavily upon his shoulders. Sam Wilson followed suit, placing a crumpled takeout bag of Chinese food between them on the coffee table. It had been a few days since Bucky's CT scan and hospital appointment, and Sam had insisted on staying until they knew the results. While Bucky appreciated Sam’s company, waiting for Dr. Strange’s call only heightened his usual irritability.
"Thanks for grabbing this," Bucky murmured wearily, fixing his gaze on the food despite having no appetite.
Sam nodded, his concern palpable. "No problem, Buck. You gotta eat something," he said gently, unpacking the food and passing a container to Bucky. "Maybe it'll help take your mind off things."
Despite feeling nauseous at the thought of eating, Bucky managed to muster a slight nod of appreciation as he cautiously picked at his food.
"Hey," Sam began as he dug into his meal. I found this in the back of my car." He pulled out a worn game of Battleship from a bag at his feet. "I thought it might distract you for a bit."
Bucky looked at it with a mix of surprise and faint amusement. "Battleship, huh?" he said, a hint of a smile on his lips. "You always have a knack for finding the most random things."
Sam grinned back, relieved to see even a tiny spark of joy in Bucky's eyes. "Come on, let's play a quick game," Sam suggested, setting up the game board and handing Bucky the fleet of ships. "Steve used to say this game was all about luck."
Bucky's smile widened slightly at the mention of Steve. "Yeah, he loved this game," he recalled softly, memories of their time on the run flickering in his mind. "Remember that time in the sketchy little motel?"
Sam chuckled, his own memories flooding back. "When he found that beat-up old set and insisted we play, even though we were all running on an hour of sleep?" he replied with a grin, placing his ships on the board.
"Yeah," Bucky quietly agreed, feeling a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. "He always knew how to keep us motivated, even when everything around us was falling apart."
They fell into a rhythm, placing pegs and calling out coordinates, the game slowly drawing them into its simple distraction. Sam tried to keep the mood light, cracking jokes and recounting past missions to pass the time.
Suddenly, Bucky's phone buzzed, jolting them both. Bucky hesitated, then answered cautiously, "Hello?"
"James," came Dr. Strange's calm voice from the other end. "I've reviewed your recent scans. I need you to come into my office as soon as possible."
Bucky's heart sank, his throat tightening. "Is everything alright?" he managed to ask, his voice betraying his worry.
"I'd prefer to discuss it in person," Dr. Strange replied gently. "Can you make it here within the hour?"
Bucky exchanged a glance with Sam, who was watching him intently. "Yes," Bucky said, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Good," Dr. Strange said, his tone severe yet reassuring. "See you soon, James."
Bucky hung up slowly, his mind racing with apprehension. He turned to Sam, who was waiting for any indication of what was to come.
"It's Dr. Strange," Bucky finally said quietly, his voice heavy with emotion. "He wants me to go to his office in an hour."
Sam exhaled slowly, his own emotions swirling beneath the surface. "Okay," he replied softly, squeezing Bucky's shoulder. "We'll go together."
Bucky nodded, grateful for Sam's support. "Thanks, Sam," he murmured with a sigh.
"Well, looks like we'll have to pause our epic battle for now, Bucky," Sam joked, standing up to get ready. "But don't worry, I won’t tell anyone I was about to win."
Bucky managed a small smile, appreciating Sam's attempt to lighten the mood. "Yeah, yeah," he replied lightly, feeling a brief moment of relief. "Let's go see what the sorcerer has to say."
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As they prepared to head out, Bucky's phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't Dr. Strange's number calling but an incoming call from Dr. Raynor. Bucky paused for a moment, debating whether to pick up immediately or wait until after the meeting to return the call.
Taking a deep breath, he decided to answer.
"Hey, Doc," Bucky greeted, trying to keep his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
"Hey, James," Dr. Raynor replied warmly. "How are you holding up?"
Bucky swallowed, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. "Nervous," he admitted quietly. "We're about to meet with Dr. Strange about the scan."
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Dr. Raynor spoke again, her voice calm. "It's normal to feel anxious in situations like this."
"Yeah," Bucky murmured, his gaze drifting to the floor. "I just... I don't know what to expect."
"That's okay," Dr. Raynor said gently. "Remember, whatever the results are, we'll face it together. You're not alone in this."
"Do you think…maybe…you could come to the meeting with Dr. Strange?" Bucky asked, glancing at Sam.
"Of course, Bucky," Dr. Raynor responded without hesitation. "I'll make arrangements to be there. It's crucial you have all the support you need."
Bucky felt an unexpected wave of relief wash over him at her reassurance. "Thank you, Dr. Raynor," he said sincerely. "We'll see you there."
Bucky hung up and turned to Sam. "Dr. Raynor will be there," he told Sam, who nodded in acknowledgment.
Together, they gathered their things and headed out, bracing themselves for whatever news awaited them at Dr. Strange's office.
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Bucky and Sam nervously approached the entrance of Dr. Strange's office building, feeling the palpable weight of anticipation hanging heavy in the air. The gravity of the situation they were about to face only exacerbated their mounting anxiety. As they stepped inside, the sight of Dr. Raynor waiting for them in the foyer provided a brief but welcome respite, like a reassuring anchor amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead.
"Hey, Dr. Raynor," Bucky greeted with a grateful smile as they approached her.
"Good to see you both," Dr. Raynor responded warmly, giving each of them a supportive nod.
"Sam, I'm really glad you're here," Dr. Raynor said warmly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder as they followed Bucky, who walked a few steps ahead of them. "It's a positive sign that Bucky feels he can lean on us."
Sam nodded thoughtfully, "Yeah, he knows we've got his back," he replied quietly, appreciating Dr. Raynor's acknowledgment.
Dr. Raynor wore a warm smile as she gestured toward Dr. Strange's office, her eyes reflecting a sense of kindness and understanding. "Your support means a lot to him right now," she suggested softly. "Let's go." Together, the three of them entered the elevator.
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The elevator ride back up to Dr. Strange’s office seemed longer than the descent. Bucky stood beside Sam, his mind racing with thoughts and fears, though he tried to maintain his composure. Sam glanced at him from time to time, concern etched deeply into his expression.
When the elevator finally dinged, signaling their arrival, Bucky felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The doors slid open, revealing Dr. Stephen Strange's serene and meticulously organized office. As they entered, the Sorcerer Supreme stood by the window, overlooking the New York skyline.
"Good afternoon, Dr. Raynor," Dr. Strange greeted, his voice calm yet tinged with gravity as he motioned for them to take seats. "Bucky, Sam, please, have a seat."
He cleared his throat before continuing, "Bucky, I've reviewed your scans thoroughly," Dr. Strange began, his tone measured yet compassionate. "I'm afraid the results indicate the presence of a brain tumor, specifically a glioblastoma."
Bucky's breath caught in his throat, his heart sinking at the weight of those words. He glanced at Sam, who sat silently beside him, their shared apprehension palpable.
"Glioblastoma is an aggressive type of brain cancer," explained Dr. Strange, his voice unwavering. "It's classified as stage 4, indicating extensive spread within the brain. We need to act quickly. I will refer you to a specialized neuro-oncologist who will discuss treatment options with you. Surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy are likely to be part of the plan."
Dr. Raynor gently interjected, her voice a soothing presence in the room. "Bucky, it's important to take this one step at a time," she said, her gaze steady and reassuring. "We'll be here to support you through every decision."
Bucky's mind raced as he tried to process the information. Treatment options? Stage 4? Would he be able to continue fighting alongside Sam? The weight of uncertainty settled heavily on his shoulders, as the room seemed to blur around him.
"I understand this is difficult to hear," Dr. Strange said gently, with genuine concern in his eyes. "I'll make sure you get an appointment with the neuro-oncologist as soon as possible."
Sam placed a supportive hand on Bucky's shoulder, offering silent solidarity in the face of such devastating news.
Bucky's chest tightened. His mind raced, struggling to grasp the reality of his diagnosis. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in around him. Without warning, Bucky abruptly stood and stumbled out of the office, his heart pounding in his ears.
Sam called out after him, concern etched on his face, but Bucky was already gone.