I Need Her

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TWO DAYS LATER

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TWO DAYS LATER

★ ★ ★

Bucky had been in and out of consciousness ever since the night he was shot. The amount of morphine and anesthetics were given to him in far greater amounts than needed for the average human being; after all, not only was he a big guy, he was a super-soldier.

Once he was completely through undergoing surgeries to remove the bullet and its fragments from his abdomen, he was left with a broken rib. For the brief hours that he had been somewhat conscious, he was so drugged that he had no idea who he was, let alone what had happened and what was going on. He couldn't function at all, so Natasha had stepped in to keep an eye on him in between surgeries since Steve had already dedicated his time to sit with Marlena.

Bruce had finally lessened the dosages of anesthetics and Bucky was finally coming to when Natasha returned to his room in the infirmary with a coffee. Bucky forced his eyelids open and he took in his surroundings, not noticing the pain in his abdomen until he sat up.

"Shit," he muttered out, causing Natasha to turn away from the nightstand where she had set her coffee cup down.

"Barnes, you're alive! It's a miracle!" Natasha joked sarcastically, knowing that Bucky would probably give her hell for it later.

"Am I? You sure this isn't hell? 'Cause it sure feels like it." Bucky winced, his hand moving to the bandage covering his shirtless torso.

"You better not have that attitude when you see Marlena," Natasha said calmly.

Marlena.

All it took was the mentioning of her name and Bucky was practically rolling himself out of the bed to stand.

"Woah there, Buck, Doc says you gotta stay here a while longer. Wouldn't want to rip out your stitches." Natasha put her hands on his chest, pushing him back into bed, only Bucky wouldn't budge.

"Last time I checked," Bucky ripped the IV out of the fold of his elbow, "I don't take orders from Banner. I have to see her. Now." Bucky looked at her seriously before nudging her aside and walking to the door.

His injuries only slowed him the slightest bit, the pain being the worst advocate of his pace. He held onto his bandaged abdomen as he walked, nearly stumbling over some cords on the floor.

"Last time I checked, you were shot in the abdomen being a dumbass and now you have a broken rib. So," Natasha moved in front of him again, her facial expression turning serious, "get back in that bed—before I make you."

Recollection ★ Bucky BarnesWhere stories live. Discover now