Aftermath

“You’ve got your Orders, better shoot on Sight.

Your Finger’s on the Trigger, but it don’t seem right.

Night is falling and you just can’t see,

Is this Illusion or Reality?”

 
His breaths rattled in his chest and his heart had lost its steady rhythm, thudding against his ribs like a caged bird trying to escape the terrors of its prison. His tongue tasted like steel and he could barely feel his fingers. The heavy restraints that held his wrists in place dug deep into his chafed skin, filling him with a sense of hopelessness. He wouldn’t be able to escape this hellhole. This surgical table would be his deathbed and there was nothing he could do about it except for clenching his teeth and making his peace with the world.

The reality of never seeing Steve and his family again would’ve made him cry if he hadn’t been too exhausted to hold onto that thought for more than a few seconds. Instead he kept his eyes closed and tried to slip back into the blissful darkness waiting on the other side. If only they’d pull the freezing metal out. It had been buried in the crook of his arm for days now and each experimental concoction that dripped into his veins caused more discomfort than any other kind of torture.

His limbs twitched against the restraints. His brain seemed to short-circuit when the hard leather didn’t scrape against his torn skin and he needed several minutes to comprehend the meaning of that change. They hadn’t strapped him down this time. Maybe this was his chance to liberate himself and his comrades or to at least put an end to his suffering when he took his last breath while trying.

Yet, it took every ounce of his strength to pry his eyes open and his surroundings didn’t quite come into focus. He know he couldn’t make any allowances for his weakness and reached for the needle buried in his flesh anyways. Once he’d pulled it out, he cou-

“Don’t.”

A gentle voice penetrated the haze that had settled around his mind and someone wrapped their fingers firmly around his forearm. It seemed like they’d been watching him all along, probably just giving up on the straps because he was too weak to actually constitute a threat. The hand on his arm was heavy enough to subdue his wavering willpower within seconds – and in that very moment the panic returned with vengeance and his survival instinct kicked in full-force.

He yanked his arm from his torturer’s grasp in one swift movement and gripped the tube of his IV like a lifeline. It hurt when he ripped the needle from his flesh, but he didn’t give it a second thought. Anything was better than surrendering to the poisons running through his veins. He’d sworn that he’d go down fighting when push came to shove during the war and he wouldn’t break his vow.

He forced his muscles to comply with the orders of his mind by volition alone and struggled to his feet. He only had one chance to make his escape and surprise was the key to success. While his captor was still gaping at him in shock, he staggered across the spinning room. He didn’t quite make it to the door before his knees gave in and he unceremoniously crumbled to the ground. Dark spots danced before his eyes and he barely managed to scoot away from his alleged guard when he rose from his chair and took a cautious step in his direction.

“Buck.”

Steve had watched the whole Situation unfold before he could even anticipate that his ailing friend would be able to get out of bed without assistance and that the only thing on his mind would be flight or fight. Not even his advanced reflexes had been enough to stop him from pulling the IV-Line out and he hadn’t dared to hold onto his hands with more force since they’d already suffered enough damage from the shackles.

He ended up watching in helpless shock while Bucky squeezed himself into a corner of the room, shaking from the sheer exhaustion of getting to his feet and looking downright miserable. His face was white as a sheet and a steady stream of blood poured from the puncture wound of the needle, soaking into the bandage around his wrist and leaving uneven splatters on the pristine tiles. His eyes were unfocused and wide, in a panic that reminded him of a deer caught in the headlights of a truck.

He took another step towards the brunet, before he stopped once more. He desperately wanted to reach out for his friend and pull him into his arms, but since he already felt cornered it probably wasn’t the best idea to force his care upon him. “Bucky…”, he whispered instead, feeling utterly helpless about the whole situation. Maybe he still was that scrawny, lost boy from Brooklyn on the inside despite turning into a hero on the outside.  “Please calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“No.” He furiously shook his head and curled further into himself without even attempting to calm his ragged breaths. “Don’t come any closer.” He had never snapped at Steve like that before, his voice sharp and piercing in the silence of the room. It made him stop in his tracks and his mind went completely quite for several long moments. This wasn’t his courageous Bucky. What he witnessed was the behavior of a scared man who’d been tortured until he had lost all trust in the world.

“Okay”, he muttered in an attempt to collect his scattered thoughts. Then he did the only thing that seemed reasonable in this situation and lowered himself to the ground, careful to keep his distance from Bucky for the time being. “I won’t move any closer until you tell me to, alright?” It wasn’t much of a peace offering and Bucky kept eying him in distraught. “I am not going to do anything to you. You’re safe with me”, he continued talking anyways and flashed him a confident smile.

The quite creaking of the opening door disrupted the unstable peace once more and the brunet’s eyes immediately darted to the nurse. She had stopped in the doorway and eyed them equally confused and suspicious.  The ruckus of Bucky’s unsuccessful escape had probably caught her attention. Steve knew she was only doing her job by checking up on patients, but right now was the worst time for such care. Therefore, he waved her away with one hand and mouthed that he had everything under control. That he’d take care of the scared soldier for the time being and that he didn’t need assistance. Once she’d finally closed the door again with dismay clearly showing on her featured, he turned back to his friend. “You’re safe with me, I promise.”

Bucky didn’t say a word, but the hostility slowly drained from his face. All that remained was utter exhaustion - and Steve wasn’t quite sure if that wasn’t even worse. He could still sense the fear and the longing to escape this room, but at the same time he witnessed that his best friend gave up. Suddenly, he swallowed back tears. He tried hard not to think about how much the war must have impacted Bucky to turn him into someone this broken despite him being the bravest person he’d ever met during his life.

At the same time, Steve realised he wasn’t getting anywhere. He needed to change his approach if he didn’t want to manhandle Bucky back to bed and worsen his trauma. “Do you remember what happened?”, he inquired in a tone of voice that suggested he was talking about something simple like the weather. He actually struggled to suppress the overwhelming urge to ask Bucky if he remembered him immediately afterwards since he still didn’t seem quite comfortable with his presence. Then again, he was still recovering from the aftermath of his imprisonment and probably struggled to piece the scattered memories of the past days back together.

For now, he actually contemplated the question with a slight frown. Then he slowly shook his head. “It’s okay that you don’t”, Steve reassured him with a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’ve been running a pretty high temperature during the past days.” His heart clenched at the memories of Bucky lying in the hospital bed, pale as death himself and completely unresponsive.

“I’m not with Hydra anymore”, the brunet deducted, but his words sounded more like a question than a statement. Steve nodded once more. “We returned to the base three days ago, remember?” He forced himself to keep smiling even though he could clearly see the confusion that spread over his friend’s features. “You passed out on me when we were celebrating our victory.”

Now Bucky actually looked mortified and like he’d love to merge with the wall behind his back. He’d never enjoyed being vulnerable and hearing Steve talk about the details probably injured his pride. To spare the brunet further embarrassment, he tried his best to keep the rest of the explanation short. “I thought you’d gotten yourself drunk and dragged you back to my tent. Your condition worsened during the night, though. That’s why I brought you here, to the sickbay, in the end.”

Silence settled between them while Bucky tried to process all of that information. Since he still seemed to struggle with the whole situation, Steve refrained from asking anymore questions and only kept a watchful eye on his friend. His chest was rising and falling in a somewhat steady rhythm now and his muscles had lost their initial tension. Yet, he still looked like he’d gone through hell and back mere minutes ago.

“Can I come closer?”, he finally asked when he couldn’t bear the nagging worry anymore. Bucky hesitated for a long moment and his breath hitched once more, before he granted the request with a court nod. Steve scooted closer without bothering to get to his feet until they only were sitting mere inches apart. He could have reached out and placed his hands on his knees without even leaning forward, but he refrained from touching the brunet since he didn’t want to send him into another panic attack. Instead his eyes slowly drifted towards the blood that had started dripping from his wrist and already formed a small puddle on the tiled floor. He shifted a little and grabbed a piece of fresh gauze from a dray stacked with medical supplies of all kinds, showing it to Bucky with open palms when he flinched at the unexpected movement.

“If you’re comfortable with it, I’d like to patch that up”, he explained and gestured towards the crook of his arm. Bucky followed the motion with his eyes and surveyed the damage with outright disgust. The idea of blood didn’t seem to sit quite well with him since he’d returned from the frontlines and he willingly stretched his arm out towards Steve, allowing him to access the small wound the needle had caused. “Alright”, he smiled faintly and gently pressed the gauze against his heated skin. Bucky only bit his lip and remained silent.

Once he was sure the bleeding was slowing down, Steve reached up again and fetched a clean bandage from the dray. He wasn’t quite skilled when it came to first aid, but he somehow managed to wrap it around the brunet’s arm without restricting the movement of the joint too much. Once he’d tied the bandage, he released Bucky to give him some space. To his relieve, his friend didn’t try to get away from him this time. Though, the exhaustion seemed to claim him once more and his upper body started dangerously tilting to the right. He was still shivering as well and even though he’d barely touched him, Steve was pretty sure his fever hadn’t broken yet.

“How about we get you back into bed, Buck?”, he suggested. Bucky warily gazed at the cot instead of answering the question. “I don’t want the IV again”, he finally sighed in defeat. Steve only nodded even though it would have made him feel a lot less anxious if his friend had remained medicated until he was out of the woods. Pushing him now would not help with his recovery or get him to rest though. “I’ll talk to the doctors, no worries”, he promised before he got back to his feet.

Bucky struggled to follow suit until Steve offered a hand and pulled him up. Upon being upright again, the brunet almost immediately collapsed against his broad chest. “You really got to stop doing that, Buck”, he muttered mostly amused and wrapped an arm around his waist. Then he slowly maneuvered him back to the bed and at him down on the edge before his wobbling legs could give out. When Bucky continued to struggle with coordinating his weak limbs, he gently pushed him back into the pillows and lifted his legs onto the bed. Afterwards, he picked the rumpled blanket up and spread it over him. “Try to catch some sleep, okay?”, he murmured. “You’ve been through some rough days.” To his surprise, Bucky didn’t protest and allowed his eyes to close. The moment only lasted for a second before he forced them to open once more though. “You’ll… ?”, he trailed off without actually asking, but Steve nodded without hesitation anyways.

“Of course, no worries.” He smiled and sat back down on his abandoned chair. He’d barely moved from his bedside since he’d carried him to the sickbay and he definitely didn’t mind staying until Bucky was allowed to leave. He’d already sworn to himself that he wouldn’t head out for another mission without Bucky by his side. No matter if that meant he’d be punished for insubordination. Hell, in this very moment he wouldn’t even have minded to lose the whole war when it meant his best friend was getting the rest he deserved.

Unfortunately, his presence didn’t quite suffice to cure the unease he’d witnessed twice already. Soon enough Bucky was tossing and turning in his sleep again, twisting the thick Blanket around his legs. The quiet moans that escaped his chapped lips almost broke Steve’s heart and he tried his best to soothe the feverish nightmares that plagued his friend by running his fingers through his short hair and along his bruised jaw. Those small gestures of affection did little to ease his terror though and Steve started fearing that the brunet would startle awake again without getting any rest.

Yet, he hesitated and eyed the door and the narrow bed in alternation at first. Only when the shivers started to wreak havoc on his body again, Steve threw his caution in the wind. He slipped his boots off, dropped the jacket of his Uniform in a crumbled heap on the chair and carefully squeezed himself in the narrow space that wasn’t occupied by Bucky. The frame of the bed creaked in anguish when he slightly shifted his weight to straighten the Blanket before he settled besides the wounded soldier.

He already knew it would raise unwanted suspicion if anyone caught them in this position. But he couldn’t care any less about looks and comments. They’d spend more nights than he had counted sharing a bed during cold winters. Bucky had never refused to crawl under his covers when he’d been shaking with the chills and share his warmth. It was high time that he repaid those favours now that he wasn’t the vulnerable one anymore.

“Calm down, Buck”, he muttered and carefully wrapped his arms around the other man. His shivers didn’t quite stop and he could still feel the heat radiating from his skin. Steve really wished he hadn’t ripped the IV out of his vein, but he decided to at least stick to his word this time since he’d already broken it once by dragging Bucky to the sickbay. Instead of calling the nurse in to take care of a new line, he kept running his fingers through his hair until he started relaxing in his sleep and settled with his face buried in the crook of his neck. His breath gently tickled Steve’s skin. It was all familiar and yet so very different it almost felt like he’d lost his grip on reality. But all that mattered was that he had Bucky back and that he’d be recovering from the hardships of the war. Steve would make sure of that even if it cost his own life.

“Sleep well, Buck.”