Happy Ending after all
As he enters the apartment, Bucky feels every single one of his 108 years of life and is somehow amazed by it. He hadn't noticed that before. But now everything seems different anyway. The last 24 hours have turned his life upside down. On the way to the living room, he carelessly drops the bag with the dirty clothes and other belongings on the floor in the hallway. The laceration on his forehead, which is held together with three butterfly bandages, slowly begins to throb uncomfortably.
"Everything okay?" Sam wants to know, who has entered the living room behind him.
He still has the strange smell in his nose that every hospital seems to have. He knows what he's talking about, he's been there often in recent years. Bucky stops for a moment and looks around. It's quiet here, but that's probably partly because it's just after midnight. After he left the hospital with Sam, both of them were still too excited by the events, so they first walked a few laps to calm down a bit.
Only when he feels Sam's hand on his shoulder does he realize that he still owes his friend an answer. "I-I think so," he murmurs, slowly flopping onto the sofa. His arm still hurts from the tension, basically his whole body is kind of numb and he feels powerless, tired and exhausted.
Sam also seems a bit off track when he goes to the fridge, opens it and pulls out two bottles of beer. He then goes back to the sofa, pausing in front of it to give Bucky a worried look before handing him a bottle, before uncapping his own. "What a day, huh?" he sighs, toasting his counterpart but getting no response to his gesture. Shrugging, he takes a few sips.
So many impressions are buzzing around in Bucky's head that he can't think straight and certainly can't come up with a good answer. Instead, he just nods silently and looks at the still closed beer bottle in his hand.
After a few moments, Sam sits down next to him. "You should try to get a few hours of sleep," he finally says quietly, cautiously giving him a sideways glance. "The next few days will be tough."
Sleep? How on earth is he supposed to sleep after everything that's happened? But he pulls himself together, bites back his comment and instead replies, "Okay."
Puzzled, Sam raises his eyebrows. "'Okay'?" He sits up slightly. "You ... agree with me? Hallelujah!” An amused smile appears on his face, which grows ever wider. "What kind of stuff did they give you at the hospital? Whatever it was, it's good.”
"Oh, shut up, Wilson," Bucky grumbles, but he can't blame his pal. He carefully runs his fingertips over the painful swelling on his forehead, but his face doesn't change. He's been through worse. Nonetheless, it threw him off track. He doesn't even know what to do next.
Sam makes the decision for him. "How about you change your clothes and then lie down, huh? The doctor said it would be better if someone was with you during the night. You may have a thick scull, but ..." he points to Bucky's forehead, "it's better to be safe than sorry. Sarah will give me hell if something happens to you.” He pauses, then adds, “And she’s gonna stretch your ears, if you don't listen to me.”
Sarah. His heart skips a beat as he thinks of her. Yes, she would. Guaranteed. So he puts the unopened bottle on the coffee table and gets up. At least tries, but it's as if the remaining energy has just fizzled out. And the room doesn't stop spinning, so he just gives in.
"You know what?" Sam's voice is a mixture of concern and a tiny bit of amusement. "You just stay here. I'll get you a change of clothes. If you pass out again, it will end badly. For both of us.” He gets up and leaves the room.
Bucky carefully peels off his jacket. He still can't believe what happened.
Sam reappears holding sweatpants and a t-shirt. He puts the things on the table and leans down to untie Bucky's shoelaces and remove his shoes. After that's done, he points to the jeans. "Is it okay if I ...?"
With restless fingers, Bucky fumbles with the button and the zipper and somehow manages to open both. His head is pounding harder and harder. With his eyes closed, he first pulls down one side, then the other side of the pants. He finds it difficult to move and can’t suppress a quiet groan. He feels like he's in a trance, but he realizes that Sam is doing the rest and suddenly he's sitting on the couch in his boxer shorts. But he doesn’t care. There is nothing to be ashamed of.
“Alright, here comes the sweatpants,” Sam’s voice sounds kind of cheerful, but he turns serious again, asking: “Can you stand up for a few seconds? Lean on me, if you have to, okay?”
Bucky has his eyes still closed, it’s easier to fight the dizziness. Still he complies. He feels his pants being pulled on and then a hand on his shoulder.
“You can sit down. And now the shirt.”
He does like he’s told and cautiously holds up his arms, letting Sam do his work. He knows there must be blood on the shirt from the cut on his forehead. When that part is done, he opens his eyes a little, but the light blinds him, so he lowers his gaze a little and holds his forehead with his right hand. He tried to pull himself together, but now his resistance seems to be crumbling.
"Buck? Talk to me ... if you're feeling down, I need to know. A concussion is no joke.”
"Headache," he manages to say after a few seconds. His eyes are still closed.
"What about dizziness? Nausea?"
"Mm-mmm."
"Okay, would you like to try lying down?"
Too exhausted to engage in discussion, Bucky just nods and slowly falls to the side. He feels Sam lift his legs up and his head touches the pillow. Seconds later he's covered and he catches Sam taking the beer bottle and going back to the kitchen. The next time he opens his eyes briefly, he can make out a thermos and a mug on the table in front of him and a bucket on the floor next to the couch. After that everything goes black.
***
The ringing of a mobile phone wakes him from a fitful sleep. It's not his, but he knows Sarah is calling because he recognizes the ringtone. He's instantly wide awake, but it still takes him a moment to realize where he is. He is lying on the couch and first has to free himself from the blanket in order to be able to sit up. He's feeling a little better but not fully recovered as he straightens his torso.
Then Sam appears to him, smart phone in hand. "Yes, he is awake. Wait a minute.” He holds it out, grinning slightly, but doesn't say anything and stays close.
Sitting on the couch, Bucky carefully takes the mobile in both hands and first has to swallow the lump that forms at the sight of Sarah. This video calling stuff is really amazing.
"Hi."
"H-hi," he greets back in a husky voice. "D-did something happen? Are you ... are you ... okay?” His heartbeat increases and he feels his stomach tighten.
"Babe, I’m alright," she assures him, sitting in bed with white gown and smiles. "What about you?"
He needs to take a deep breath. She calls him in the middle of the night to check him. That overwhelms him a bit. "Um, I ..." He's distracted, having spotted something else in the video. His mind is failing.
"He's fine," Sam answers for him, moving closer to him so he can see the screen too. "I have everything under control."
"Yeah, sure," giggles Sarah and keeps talking, but Bucky's mind doesn't register the words. He just looks at her.
Sam snaps his thumb and middle finger in front of his face. "Hey! Earth to Bucky!”
Blinking, Bucky comes back to the present. "W-what?"
“Sarah said you should lie down again. There are still a few hours until the appointment with Dr. Andrews."
Still a few hours? Bucky is confused. He can no longer think of sleep. Not at the sight that presents itself to him. Only now does he notice that it is still dark outside. He couldn't have slept very long. Seemingly his mind is slowly picking up speed again.
"Sam? You're my brother and I love you very much, but could you perhaps ...?” Sarah sounds amused and wiggles her finger, probably to indicate to him to leave. "I'd like to have some privacy with this one."
Sam grins widely and pats Bucky on the shoulder approvingly as he stands up while continuing to talk to Sarah. "At least he can't fall over now," he laughs, gets up and makes his way to the kitchen. "Alright, leaving the three of you alone now."
The three of you. It takes a while for Bucky to realize the meaning of the words because he was totally absorbed by the sight of his newborn daughter, who has been sleeping peacefully in her mother's arms until now, but is starting to whine and will probably be fed by Sarah soon.
He looks up at Sam, who has stood by him for the last few hours, and gives him a grateful nod. He's a bit embarrassed to admit that he just passed out during childbirth and lacerated himself when he fell. But on the other hand - he's only human after all. And he still can't hardly believe how much he is absorbed by the sight of his little daughter. When he tries to shift a little, he feels an uncomfortable tugging in his arm and shoulder. They gave him the little bundle of joy in the hospital and he had tensed up, holding her in his arms, because he was afraid of accidentally hurting her. Nevertheless, he would hardly have wanted to give her back, if Sarah hadn't intervened.
His chest fills with pride as he watches Sarah carefully peel the little one out of the blanket, giving him a full view of her chubby face. Tears well up in his eyes. He made it. He never thought it was possible, but now he realizes: After being on his own for decades, he made it. He has a wonderful wife, two amazing stepsons and an adorable daughter.
He finally made it.
He’s home.
And he realizes one more thing: There are indeed happy endings after all.