Tiny Frog ||Stucky Fanfiction||

16

(Well I'm sick now so my plans are write in this and watch Sherlock)

(Steve POV) 

"Your phone was ringing." 

Natasha nearly gives me a heart attack when I get home from the grocery store. I thought I locked the door, but I guess that wouldn't stop Nat. 

"Who was it?" I ask, taking my phone from her. 

"Why would I answer your phone?" 

"Why would you just enter my locked home?" 

"It's cold outside and I didn't want to wait for you to get here."

"Well, did you answer my phone?" 

"Yep. It was a hospital in DC. Did you know that you are both Sam's and Bucky's emergency contact?" 

"Hospital?!" I drop my grocery bags and run outside to my motorcycle. Natasha steals one of my coats from the coat hook and follows me. 

With no regard to speed limits, I drive all the way from my house in New York to Washington D.C., Natasha giving me constant directions so I go the right way. I get pulled over only once, but the young trooper must be a Captain America fan because as soon as he realized who I was, he apologized and let me go. That, or he thought Natasha was hot, which gets us out of more trouble than I'd like to admit. 

"What happened?" I finally ask Natasha while we wait in the hospital. 

"I don't know," she shrugs. "Apparently neither of them were conscious when the police arrived." 

"And why am I their emergency contact? I don't live anywhere near them. It took us over three hours to get here." 

"Who else would it be?" 

"Each... other...?" 

"They get in trouble together, so that wouldn't really work." 

I start considering moving to some place closer to them when a doctor comes up to us and asks us who we're here for.

"James Barnes and Sam Wilson," Natasha answers for me, interrupting my starting of 'Bucky and Sam.'

"James is awake. Very articulate fellow." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask. 

"He's being sarcastic, Steve," Nat explains. "You know Bucky mostly speaks in grunts." 

"And he's already awake?" I ask, to clarify. 

"Yes. He says he was awake through most of the procedure." 

I wouldn't doubt it. With the serum, we both burn through regular anesthetics pretty quickly. Tony made a kind that would work for people like us, but the hospital probably doesn't just have that lying around. 

Natasha stays seated and plays games on her phone while I get up and follow the doctor to the room. As we walk, I ask the doctor what happened. 

"I asked James the same thing. He kept saying he didn't know." 

I don't mean to call Bucky a liar, but he probably does know. He just has a hard time trusting people, even if they're trying to help him. 

"I'll ask him, then," I promise. 

"Well, he is on a heavy pain medication, so he might have a better answer later on." 

Oh, joy. 

"And what about Sam?" I ask, stopping outside the door. "How's Sam?" 

"He'll be fine," he assures. "He'll be out for a couple days, but he's gonna be just fine." 

I nod once and enter the room, reminding myself not to ask what happened because he won't have a valuable answer. The first thing that catches my eye is Bucky's left arm, or lack thereof. 

"What happened?" I blurt out immediately, then mentally facepalm. Very smooth. 

"I don't know." He's been looking out the window since before I got in here. 

"How are you feeling?" 

"Was hurting a lot. 'S not so bad now." 

That's because you're high, I think to myself, but I don't say it aloud. 

"That's good," I say instead. "Are you tired?" 

He grunts affirmatively, eyes still glued to the window.

"The doctor said that Sam is gonna be fine." I sit down in the chair next to his bed. "You were probably worried about that." 

"Mhm."

"Bucky," I lean forward a little bit, getting to the important stuff, "if you know something about whoever did this to the two of you, you need to tell someone. You know that, right?" 

"Mm." 

"Then you need to stop pretending you don't know what happened." 

"I don't know what happened." 

'Oh my god, you're so annoying,' is what I want to say but that won't help anything. 

"I just want to make sure it doesn't happen again," I say instead. "Whoever did this to you is still out there, and I don't like that." 

"It won't happen again."  

"And how do you know that if you can't even remember what happened?" 

"You aren't a cop, Steve," he hisses, sounding frustrated all of a sudden, "so stop pretending to be one." 

I move to argue that I'm not pretending to be a cop, but I kind of am. It isn't really my job to find out the specifics of the crime but, out of concern for my friends, I would like to know.  

"Sorry," is all I say. 

"I'm not really feelin' great." He finally turns to face me. "Is this maybe something we can do tomorrow?" 

So I leave to let him rest.

(Totally lazy ending to the chapter haha I just wanted to be done)