bucky barnes imagines

xviii. NURSE

It had been around three months since you'd started your new position as a nurse at the Avengers facility in New York. Your job was to be prepared to treat injuries at any time – after all, there was no telling what state the team would be in after returning from a mission.

So far, the worst you'd dealt with was a shallow stab wound, which you were oddly grateful for. Although you hadn't worked at the tower for very long, you were already extremely close with most of the team and you'd hate to see anything bad happen to any of them.

At around 8pm on a regular Tuesday night, you heard the familiar voice of F.R.I.D.A.Y calling you to the medical room. As you quickly stood up from the couch, you asked who was hurt, and to what extent.

"Mr Barnes requires your assistance. His condition is not critical."

"Strange," you muttered to yourself, absentmindedly shaking your head in wonder. Although you'd spoken to Bucky in passing, he had never actually paid a visit to the medical room, leading you to assume that he'd either miraculously avoided sustaining any injuries while on missions, or he just had an extremely high pain threshold and was able to put up with the discomfort without your professional help. In any case, you couldn't help but feel intrigued about the quiet former soldier.

When you opened the door to the medical room, you immediately saw Bucky sitting high up on one of the beds, gently swinging his legs over the side. He gave a small smile as you walked towards him, which you returned.

"Hi, Bucky. What seems to be the problem?"

"Sprained wrist, I think," he mumbled. "I was training with Steve and I landed wrong."

A quick assessment of his wrist revealed that he was correct. While you grabbed the materials to fix it, the two of you engaged in a surprisingly interesting and humorous conversation which continued long after the injury had been tended to.

Eventually, Bucky stood up, a soft sigh falling from his lips as if he didn't want to leave. He thanked you with a charming smile and you could feel the blush on your cheeks as you told him to come back whenever he wanted to.

Over time, the frequency of his visits gradually increased. You couldn't believe he was suddenly getting hurt so much – at first, every week, then every few days, then almost every single day. The injuries were never serious; mostly small bumps and grazes. Once, you walked in and he was pouting like a child because of a paper cut, which was both silly and adorable.

Obviously, you wondered why he was suddenly spending so much time in the medical room. However, you really didn't want to mention your concern to Bucky for fear of driving him away. Through your frequent interactions, you'd grown to like him very much... probably a little more than you should. So, you chose a different way to find out what was going on.

"Hey, Steve," you began, walking into the kitchen cheerily. "Can I ask you something?"

"Okay, shoot." Steve leaned casually against the counter as he waited for you to speak again.

"What's up with Bucky? Is he okay? Just, he keeps getting hurt literally all the time, like, I'm talking pretty much once a day, how can he suddenly be that clumsy? He's an ex-assassin, I don't..."

Your voice trailed off mid-sentence as you realised Steve was looking at you oddly, an unreadable expression on his face.

"He still hasn't told you?" Steve chuckled lightly before patting you on the shoulder and exiting the room, leaving you even more confused and now overly curious as to what was going on.

Sighing to yourself, you decided that the only way to find answers was to confront Bucky himself, no matter the consequences. You asked F.R.I.D.A.Y for his location and the artificial intelligence promptly informed you that he was in the training room.

After a short walk, you arrived and quietly pushed the door open before stepping inside. You expected to see Bucky sparring with someone or using the punching bags, but that wasn't the case – in fact, he didn't seem to be doing any training at all. He was standing in the corner, completely still, with his back to you.

Just as you were about to speak, he suddenly moved his right arm, hitting it aggressively against the wall. He repeated the action multiple times, crying out in pain, before you finally came to your senses.

"Bucky, stop!" You yelled, rushing over to him. He flinched and sank to the floor, leaning his back against the wall and clutching his arm, which was bleeding and already beginning to bruise.

You grabbed his metal hand and helped him up before leading him to the medical room, subconsciously continuing to hold his hand as you walked. Once again, he sat on one of the beds, hanging his head in shame while you cleaned his arm up and placed it in a wrist support, knowing that it would take longer to heal this time.

Once you were finished, you jumped up to sit beside him. Seeing how miserable he looked, you carefully wrapped both of your arms around his body and rested your head on his shoulder. After sitting like that for a few minutes, you finally spoke up.

"Bucky, what were you thinking?"

In response, he mumbled something so quietly, you couldn't even hear it. You patiently asked him to repeat himself and he sighed, giving in and beginning to explain fully.

"I needed an excuse to see you again. I figured you were probably starting to get suspicious because of how many stupid, tiny injuries I was getting, so I decided to come up with something more believable."

When you didn't reply, Bucky turned his head to look you in the eye. "I-I really like you, Y/N. I just wanted to spend more time with you."

The guilt hit you like a ton of bricks as you finally processed what he was telling you. He'd been hurting himself just so he could see you. Suddenly, Steve's words made much more sense.

"Bucky... you don't need an excuse to spend time with me, okay? In fact, I would happily spend every second of every single day with you if you wanted me to." You hopped down from the bed and stood between Bucky's legs, resting your hand on the side of his face. "What I'm saying is... I like you too."

As soon as you confessed your feelings, Bucky's troubled expression immediately melted into one of relief. You gave a small smile before leaning up and pressing your lips to his. He carefully brought his metal hand to your waist as he softly kissed you back. Once you separated, he gently rested his forehead against yours.

"Promise me that you'll never try to hurt yourself again?" You whispered.

"Promise."