fossilised | For Steve

For Steve

[This is a bad idea.

Bucky knows it as soon as he stops outside the little community centre where these classes run and he sees the other students milling about, chatting to each other in their own little cliques. The thing has been running for a while, it's an art group for anyone with any sort of mental health issue - depression, anxiety, psychosis. He's here for PTSD, practically bullied into it by his therapist at the VA, under the instructions that he needs to get out and start socialising more.

There are only six other people, four women and two men, and it already feels like too large a crowd. He makes sure his prosthetic is properly covered by a glove and long sleeve, stuffed into his pocket so nobody can tell it hangs strangely, and slouches in at the back. From the conversations he can overhear, blonde woman and redhead woman have anxiety issues, brunette #1 and the two men all have depression, and brunette #2 has psychosis. They're all so open with each other, chatting about medications and coping techniques and the work they've been doing in class already.

One of them approaches him and asks his name, and what he's there for, but he just glowers at her until she retreats again. He doesn't want anyone to know why he's here, and he's only here so Wilson will stop goddamn riding him about it.

He slumps into the seat nearest the back and waits for the teacher to arrive, already sure this is going to be a waste of time...]

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[Steve...

No amount of faux nonchalance is going to make this any better, not with how absolutely terrible he looks. There's a single moment where Bucky looks content when he wakes up, as if pizza for breakfast sounds like a good idea, and then he opens his eyes properly and his expression melted immediately into horrified guilt.]

Jesus Christ.

[He's seen broken noses before, but this is something else, Steve looks as though he's about to collapse from it.]

Shit-- look at you, you look--

You aren’t the one responsible for my losing the genetic lottery on health conditions.

[The words come quickly, a little frustrated. Bucky has his host of issues he’s sensitive about and would rather not admit to, and Steve isn’t as forthcoming about his as he likes to pretend he is. ‘They’re there, I’m fine, it’s no big deal now’, only works the 95% of the time he’s able to keep everything under perfect control.]

It looks worse than it feels. Do you want to come with me to Urgent Care? I don’t mind if you don’t, it’ll probably be pretty boring.

[Just keep playing it down, Steve.]

[Part of him wants to take that out and run away from this, let Steve go to urgent care and quietly disappear in the meantime. He has his bug-out bag upstairs, he can be gone from this place in ten minutes flat. But-- But Becca would worry, he'd hurt Steve more, and he doesn't want to be that jerk.]

I'll come with you.

[He scrubs a hand over his face, looking kind of lost.]

You mean I did something worse than break your nose because you're already sick?

I’ve never not been sick. This is just life for me.

[He’s worried about Bucky being there for Urgent Care, for Bucky feeling more guilt about whatever Steve’s doctor is going to fuss over now. He’s more worried about Bucky vanishing in the time he’s gone, so he goes with relief to feel instead of dread.]

It’s not far from here. Another reason this building was ideal.

[Hopefully, he holds out his hand for Bucky, trying to not show how desperate for physical contact he feels.]

[Steve looks so hopeful and open, like he really does still want to be with Bucky despite the man knocking his face in last night. He doesn't know if he's so mad at Steve that he wants to shake him for having no self-preservation, or if he's so thankful that he wants to break down and weep on his shoulder.

In the end, he settles for reaching out and taking his hand, albeit with some hesitancy.]

Let me-- I've gotta get dressed and then we need to get you to urgent care as fast as possible.

Okay.

[Steve squeezed Bucky's hand, so damn greatful that he humored steve by taking it. Even with the broken nose and bruising around his eyes and too pale skin that smile was practically glowing. With the reassuring squeeze, he let go of Bucky's hand so he could dress. Which is about when Steve remembers that the clothes Bucky came over in was his Halloween costume.]

Um - you can wear some of my clothes if you want. [That would be... deeply appealing, actually.] We're close enough in size.

Oh, uh-- yeah, I guess I better had.

[He pushes up properly and grabs his prosthetic from the side where it had been left the night before, settling on putting the straps into place while Steve went and found him some clothes to put on. It was sort of weird fixing it on with someone else who could see, but he couldn't go out without it.]

[Steve gets that Bucky is still sensitive about it, so he doesn't watch while Bucky puts his prosthetic back on. He doesn't make a big deal out of not watching, just he's gotta find Bucky some clothes to wear anyway, and that conveniently takes exactly the same amount of time for Bucky to get his prosthetic back on. Comfortably worn jeans and a long sleeved tee shirt from his university along with an additional autumn jacket.]

In case it's chilly out.

[The clothes don't fit perfectly, Steve is slightly longer in the leg and slightly broader in the chest than Bucky, but they fit well enough and he manages to pull it off by looking artfully dishevelled with his loose hair and the jacket half done up. He slips his gloves on, at least he had those with him, to hide the hand, and then he's done.]

C'mon, before you keel over on me.

I won't keel over on you.

[Bold as Steve's words were, the distance to Urgent Care was indeed a short and walkable one. Less than a mile. And still Steve looked ready to keel over by the time he made it to the front desk, still doing his best to pretend there was no problem at all.

There was an easy banter between Steve and the receptionist that implied they were not strangers to one another. She got on his case about not coming in sooner, Steve countered with asking if they weren't so busy last night that he wouldn't have had to sleep in the lobby. The receptionist pursed her lips in displeasure, but it was pretty clear his assessment was right, even if that meant he waited a few hours longer to be seen due to sleep. In spite of looking ready to pass out he was able to verbally walk through all that was needed to get him checked in and slowly made his way to the waiting area.]

She said it shouldn't be too long.

[Bucky hangs back a couple of paces as Steve checks himself in, watching with interest the interplay that happens between him and receptionist. It gives him a glimpse in the life that Steve has mostly kept hidden until now, the frequent trips to the hospital and the ill health lurking just underneath.

It makes him so mad. Someone like Steve shouldn't have to deal with this, he's pretty much the best guy that Bucky has ever met and if anyone deserves an easy ride in life then it's him. But instead he's got a multitude of health problems and a boyfriend that beat him up.]

She didn't ask you what happened to your face.

[Like it was a pretty common occurrence for him to show up looking like his face is a Picasso.]

[In spite of - or maybe because of - Bucky's annoyance, Steve smiles a bit as he has his head tilted back against the mutely colored wall, eyes closed while he waits.]

Told you I was a troublemaker.

I didn't think you meant it.

[Is it comforting or not to know that he's not the only one who's probably broken this nose?]

Didn't anyone ever teach you to box?

[The relief that rushes through Steve at the return of their banter is palpable. They'll get through this. It's not all ruined. It's going to be fine.]

Nope. Never knew anyone who did. Except the ones that were taking swings at me.

Then you learn.

[He still looks awkward, unsure. He gestures between the two of them.]

Because this? It can't even be a discussion unless I know that if that happens again, you can take me down before I hurt you.

[Steve wants to say no, instantly. To refuse. There's no way he could hurt Bucky.

Except. Except...

If their situations were reversed, by god. He knows he would feel the same.]

Will that make you more comfortable?

[Will that make you stay?]

I can't do this if we might end up back here again time after time.

[He shakes his head, something haunted in his eyes.]

I can't have your blood on my hands, I can't. I don't want to lose this, I know that's selfish after what I did, but I'll walk away if I have to. If you can-- if you can take me down, stop me, then I can try and know if it goes wrong then I won't be sending someone I care about to the hospital.

[He'd much rather wake up with his own broken nose.]

Okay.

[If it'll mean Bucky will stay... the idea of hurting him twists Steve up inside, but not as much as the idea of never seeing Bucky again.]

Know anyone who could teach me?

I can do it.

[He shrugs, he always was a boxer.]

If I teach you, then you know my fighting style, you learn how to block it. But Steve, you've gotta promise me that you'll do whatever it takes to stop me from hurting you again.

[Steve reaches out to take Bucky's hand again and squeeze it reassuringly once more.]

I promise. If it'll make you stay, I promise I'll do everything I can.

[Which is about when the nurse comes out and calls Steve's name. He sighs.]

I'll be back. Maybe doped up on painkillers. So you need to stay to walk me home.

[He's still unsure about this, but he really doesn't want to lose Steve and so he'll try. But if this ever happens again then he will go, he can't be the asshole who hurts his boyfriend.

He sinks into one of the plastic chairs and hunches in on himself a bit. He hates hospitals, he stayed in them for too long and they're too open and busy. But he nods all the same.]

I'll be here.

[It’s a long wait.

People come and go, it’s Urgent Care rather than the emergency room, so there’s relatively little carnage or bloodshed. ‘I’m not sure if this is a panic attack or a heart attack’ kind of deals, mostly.

Just when the length of time starts to get to a worrying point even for a normal person, there is Steve, gently lead out into the lobby again by the same nurse that called him in. As he predicted, he’s drugged to the gills. He can walk, but he needs to be lead. On the bright side even with the official bandage and splint on his face he appears to be in no pain and some of his color has come back. When he sees Bucky he positively beams.]

Bucky!

[The nurse continues to keep him steady so he doesn’t fall over, asking just to be certain-]

“Mister Barnes? Steve said we didn’t need to call Natasha this time as you were here and he trusted you to get the medication information and get him home.”

[He nearly leaves on four separate occasions, he even gets as far as writing a shitty note to Steve with a meaningless apology on that he's going to leave with the nurse on the front desk, but in the end it stays crumpled in his pocket and he's still in the waiting room when Steve comes out.

God, he looks a mess.

Bucky looks guilty as hell as he comes forwards to stand by the nurse and Steve, nodding his head a little uncertainly.]

Can you write it down?

[He doesn't usually like to display his vulnerabilities, pretending they're not there, but this is too big a deal to screw up.]

I have-- uh, sometimes I have memory issues, I don't want to forget and give him the wrong meds, but I can definitely get him home.

[The nurse gives Bucky a smile. Even without memory issues, a good half their patients if not more need it written down. It gets complicated.]

“Sure thing. This isn’t a permanent change, just an adjustment for the next two to three weeks since some of his usual meds react poorly when used along with the pain medication. We should have a two week supply at the front desk with detailed instructions on what to replace with what that you can pick up on the way out. Make sure he stays hydrated and rested, he’ll probably be a little loopy for a couple more hours. We’ve got a follow up appointment scheduled in just under two weeks with his current regular physician to make sure the healing is coming along alright and to get another week supply of medication if it looks necessary.”

[While she speaks she writes all of the information down, including the exact date and time of his next appointment and that provided he is on light duty he can be cleared to return to work in the next three days if no further symptoms crop up. Steve is content to stare at the little television they’ve got going playing soundlessly in the lobby, a morning talk program. He looks confused by it, but he also looked confused at the concept of two sets of doors earlier.]

[He takes the prescriptions and notes and pushes them into his pockets, before opening his mouth as if to ask something else... and then changing his mind completely. He can't do it, not yet.]

Yeah, thanks.

[It's to Steve he turns his attention, swallowing hard and trying not to look like the world's guiltiest son of a bitch.]

Hey-- hey, Steve, look at me. Yeah-- c'mon, we've gotta get you home, you need to hold onto my arm?

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