the escapees || bucky barnes

III: blood and stitches

"Ow," the needle dove into my skin. "ow, ow, o-"

"You know, the only reason it hurts is because you wouldn't let me give you an injection of lidocaine," Bruce said, tugging on the needle. "If you want, I can still do it."

I stared down at the particularly deep cut on my hand. My blood had stained Bruce's lab coat, along with my legs. The blood had splattered practically everywhere, and now it was just a guessing game of where the fuck it got.

"Nah, I'm fine. It's just a bit of pain. Nothing permanent."

Bruce closed his eyes and shook his head at my statement. "That may be the case, but that doesn't mean you can downplay the pain every time. If you need medical attention, you need medical attention."

"I know, Bruce. But I really am okay," I said, unable to turn away from the stitches Bruce was doing. I didn't know why, but that was just something I seemed to be trained in.

"Hey, Char. Dr. Banner," Tony walked in. "She dead yet? If so, I'm turning her room into a huge bar."

"Yeah, really funny, Tony," I said, watching Bruce clip the thread. "And, Bruce, I'm alright, okay? There is truly nothing to worry about."

Bruce started wrapping my hand with gauze, my hand shaking slightly. I hoped nobody notice, but that was the least of my worries, especially when Nosy Stark was here.

"Hey," Tony grabbed my other hand. "What are these scars, Char? You never told any of us you had scars."

"Uh," I looked over to Bruce, who had gone through my files time and time again to see what would work medically on me. He knew what had happened while I was in HYDRA's grip. "It's just some scarring from a mission. The real question is how did you never notice?"

"Okay..." He looked suspicious, but backed off. That was good. He knew his boundaries. Or so I thought.

"There you go," Bruce smiled up at me and helped me down from the exam table. "You should be fine. The stitches'll dissolve in about ten days. If the cut starts bleeding again, just have FRIDAY call me."

"Sounds good," I nodded to the doctor. "Thanks again. And, Bruce," He stopped in his tracks, turning back around to see me. "I'm really sorry about the blood. I didn't mean to stain your coat."

He chuckled. "Hey, there's nothing to worry about. Trust me," He smiled, and I returned the grin. "Much worse has gotten onto the lab coats I wear. Like the occasional acid splatter."

He looked between me and Tony before resuming his usual "doctor" face. He closed up his box of medical tools, putting it back. Bruce then left the med bay, looking back at me with a concerned look on his face. He glanced at Tony, then back at me, mouthing, You need me to get rid of him? I shook my head subtly in response, wiping off the exam table, partly due to the fact that nearly a half pint of my blood was now on it. I heard the slight movement from the glass doors opening and closing, and turned my head back to Tony.

"So, what brings you here, Mr. Stank?" I threw the wipes in the trash bin, sitting down on a chair near the table. "Did Someone else inj-"

"What was that about?" He cut me off.

"What are you talking about? I was getting a cut stitched up."

"No," He started moving closer to me. "I mean the scars. You and I both know you were lying, and seeing as you glanced at Bruce, he was in on it. What happened?"

My mind started racing. I loved Tony, but he was so stifling sometimes. He wanted the best for me, but did it always have to include him being nosy?