Chapter 1
Bucky double checked the address.
If the word prosthetic hadn’t been included in the company’s sign, he would have checked a third time. A quaint little building on the outside for an operation like this, Bucky thought.
He’d kick Sam’s ass if this was one big prank.
“Some of the best prosthetics I’ve seen come from these people,” Sam had told Bucky, texting the name and address to his friend. “Can’t hurt to check it out.”
He only thought about turning around twice, which was three times fewer than he’d expected.
Slowly, Bucky shouldered the door open, sliding phone in his pocket to push it open the rest of the way.
One thing was for sure; the outside didn’t match the inside. Bucky wondered if they’d charge him for breathing the air in here.
He cleared his throat, eyes briefly casting across the frames on the walls as he walked towards the front desk. They all showed people with a variety of prosthetics used to achieve what everyone else called normalcy. Jeez. What they didn’t show was the crippling debt these people had trying to pay off the damned things.
The receptionist raised his eyes once Bucky had come close enough, offering a smile to the unfamiliar face. “Hi, welcome.” He greeted, and Bucky smiled, nodding. “How can I help you?”
“Uh,” Bucky started, squeezing an eye closed to remember exactly what he’d wanted to say. “I was referred here, by a friend. To see about getting an arm prosthetic.” The receptionist smiled, leaning back in his chair to grab what Bucky only assumed was new patient paperwork. “I don’t have an appointment, hope that’s okay.”
“Absolutely. Lucky for you, we’re not busy today.” Bucky outstretched hand, surprised to find it was a tablet, rather than a clipboard and paperwork. “Makes it easier, especially when you’re down an arm.” The receptionist clarified, figuring his surprise had leaked into his expression.
He began to take the tablet, eyes lowering to the sleek, robotic fingers holding the other end of the device. Guess that shouldn’t surprise him too much, but he still couldn’t help but watch the other take his hand away, amazed at how smooth and fluid the motions were.
“I’ll just need your ID and insurance.” Bucky set the tablet on the counter, fumbling for his wallet to place on the counter, and slide each card out for him. It was enough time for Bucky to type out his full name on the paperwork, eyes catching the cards waiting for his hands again. “All set. Thank you. One of our teams will be with you shortly.” Buck smiled, taking the cards and shoving them back into his wallet, to be organized at a later date.
Once his wallet was secure in his pocket, Bucky found a seat, crossing leg over ankle to strategically prop the tablet. The first few questions were simple enough, but there was a reason Bucky had made a note in his phone for the questions that needed information he couldn’t remember. Embarrassingly, one of those was his birthdate.
He was halfway through when his name was called. Blue eyes found the voice’s owner, slowly covering the tablet with its cover to hurry on over.
“Hello, Mr. Barnes.” The man greeted, a brunette with very shapely facial hair.
“Hi.” He answered back, following his lead down very clean halls (he was still waiting for that atmospheric charge) to a room that was slightly different than he’d imagined. Sure, it had all the bells and whistles of a regular doctor’s office, but the colors were warmer, the furniture inviting, and strangely enough, large tables sat in the middle, littered with pencils, papers, rulers, and some other devices Bucky couldn’t identify.
The brunette flipped a red-colored flag outside the door, and closed it tight behind Bucky. “Pick any seat, there’s only one wrong answer.” Bucky smiled, even if only slightly, and chose the red one, smack dab in the middle. He placed the tablet on the tablet in front of him, hoping that was alright for the time being, while the other got everything set up.
After another couple minutes, the brunette extended his hand. “Dr. Stark, it’s a pleasure.” He introduced, and Bucky took his hand with a firm shake. “My buddy’ll be here shortly, in the meantime feel free to finish those nosy questions.” Bucky’s smile widened, his uneasiness slowly subsiding with the doctor’s more casual approach.
Bucky did just that, happy to find the end of the document just before the second arrived. The knock pulled both their attention, but only Bucky’s eyes remained fixated on the figure as he came through, blonde, scruffy, and comfortably dressed.
“Lunch ran a little long,” The blonde admitted, closing the door and holding a hand out for Bucky. “Steve Rogers.” The handshake was firm, and Bucky did his best to return it with equal strength.
“Nice to meet you, both of you.” Bucky finally spoke, pushing stray strands of hair back behind an ear. “Here,” He held out the tablet for Dr. Stark, who took it and flipped it around. “I think I answered everything.”
“Looks like it.” Stark answered, running through the first few and most important tidbits he’d need to know for today. He supposed the preferred name was a start. “Want us to call you Bucky?” He clarified, and Bucky nodded. “And you have -- memory problems.”
“Yeah, head trauma.” Bucky shifted slightly in his spot as Steve sat beside Stark, leaning over to better share the information. “It depends on the day, really. You might have to repeat things.” He wanted to give them a fair warning, that was, if he decided to come back. Sam had said to try it out, that was all.
“No sweat.” He replied, scrolling down more, until he was sure he’d addressed all the important parts. Calloused fingers turned the tablet over to Steve, who gave it a very quick read before setting it down. “First time here, and first time in a prosthetic clinic, yes?” Bucky’s nod let Stark know to continue. “It’s a little different than most practitioner offices. Don’t let it scare you. We’re here for you.”
“Now, technically, yeah, I’m a doctor. Went to school for a long time, learned the ins and outs of human anatomy and a plethora of engineering.” Stark spoke, folding hands together on the table before Bucky. “For the love of god, don’t fill your mouth with Dr. Stark every time you need me. Tony will work just fine, we’re all on a first name basis here.”
Bucky blinked, taken aback. “Tony.” He repeated, in hopes to form that synapse in his head.
Tony nodded. “Tony and Steve. I’d say don’t get them mixed up because it makes blondie over here grumpy,” He winked as Steve rolled his eyes teasingly, “but we’ll give you a free pass.” Bucky couldn’t stop the slight blush from springing onto cheeks, briefly dropping eyes to a pencil on the table.
He could feel both their eyes on him, so finally he raised eyes again. “No promises on not switching your names.” He admitted, but hopefully the embarrassment would ensure he wouldn’t. Bucky shifted in his seat, bringing himself further to the front of it. “So, how does this work?”
“Great question.” Tony answered, straightening his posture. “There’s a reason we’re denoted a team. My formal title is prosthetics engineer. Simple terms; I make your arm.” Steve turned his head from Tony to Bucky, offering him a smile.
“And I design it. Whatever you have in mind, design, pattern or functionality, I’ll make it happen.” He assured. From what Bucky could tell, they seemed apt working together. It all sounded nice -- almost too nice, which brought Bucky to his next question.
“How much does this all cost?”
The two exchanged smiles, like an inside joke that Bucky wasn’t in on.
“Lucky for you, our company partners with a charity.” Steve told him, half-amused by the glazed look that still filled Bucky’s eyes. So, Tony chimed in.
“Basically, you pay next to nothing.” Feet pushed him and his rolly chair to the side counter, snatching a brochure with everything Bucky needed on costs. Once the pamphlet was in Bucky’s hand, Tony continued. “By next to nothing, I mean about, roughly --” He shrugged shoulders, scrunching nose. “Five percent of the total cost. With insurance.”
Bucky’s jaw dropped.
“Are you serious?” No, no. Sam had talked to these guys, hadn’t he? He’d told them to pull his leg and make him believe prosthetics could be affordable. There was no way.
But both men exuded nothing but sincerity.
“Before you have a heart attack--” Tony couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice, lightly tapping the brochure in Bucky’s grip. “--read the prices over. Make sure this is a cost that’s good for you.”
He fumbled with the accordion folding, splaying it flat on the table to read over the numbers in disbelief.
No fucking way.
“Yes, yes,” Bucky babbled, a grin spreading lips so wide they hurt. “It’s absolutely perfect.” He couldn’t believe his eyes.
Steve looked to Tony, who was also smiling wide with the contagion of Bucky’s enthusiasm. “Sounds like we’ve got a new patient.”