#ive been sobbing on n off for nearly 24 hours now n my chest hurts n my eyes r like perma puffy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

just-a-kj-blog · 7 years

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I Can’t Stay Any Longer - Part 2

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Hello! I decided to repost my stories on my new blog. If you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask or a pm. This was written about a year ago, so be nice heheheh

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Relationships: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky are living together after the events of Ultron and, in the midst of a nightmare, Bucky does something he truly regrets.This follows the aftermath of Reader’s injury. (Y/N - your name)

Warnings: angst, blood, injured reader, swearing, medical procedures, hospital scenario

Word Count: 3659

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

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I Can’t Stay Any Longer - Part 2 by just-a-kj-blog, previously nenyakj

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Previously:

My breath begins to rattle in my chest. When I cough and bright red drops spatter the sheets, I snap out of my reverie and wipe my mouth, avoiding the wounds, staring at the shiny red on my fingertips. I cough again, pain shooting through my ribs, and more blood splatters the bed and the floor.

“Oh shit,” I whisper. This is not good… I’m bleeding internally… into my lungs.

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I scramble for my phone on the nightstand, gasping in pain as sharp points stab inside my chest.

Shit, my ribs are broken!!

I frantically push the emergency call button on the phone screen, selecting the contact closest to my thumb. A sleepy voice answers.

“Mmm-ello? What the hell, Y/n, if this a booty call it better be for the whole booty.”

“Tony!” I weep, relieved, my hands shaking. I cough again and vomit a small pool of blood onto my bedroom floor.

“Y/n??” He wakes right up at that. “What’s going on, what’s happening? Where’s Frosty?”

“He’s gone,” I choke, blood bubbling out of my mouth, my tears that were held back so long finally dripping down my cheeks. Black spots bloom before my eyes, my breathing becoming shallow. My chest is so tight, I can’t breathe. “Tony, I'm…. I’m bleeding, please…”

My phone clatters onto the floor as I slump sideways against the bed, falling backwards onto my back with a painful thump. Tony’s small, frantic voice is the last thing I hear before slipping into unconsciousness.

——–

“She’s not breathing..”

“I need to intubate..”

“There’s too much blood…..”

“Come on, kid, breathe…”

“Tony, get back…”

“Natasha, she’s turning blue….”

………

“Steve, where the hell is Bucky…”

“…I don’t know….”

“That’s a hand print on her chest…”

———-

Bright lights glare red through my eyelids, slowly bringing me back to consciousness. Burning pain flares through my chest as I try to take a breath. My brain tries to shift through the fuzziness, my eyebrows furrowing, confusion scattering my thoughts. A tiny moan escapes my mouth and I hear faint shuffling next to me.

“Hey, there’s my girl,” I hear Steve whisper. A warm hand caresses my forehead, pushing my hair back.

Steve? What… where the hell am I? Why am I naked?! Oh, there’s a blanket, thank god.

I pry my eyes open, wincing at the glare of the fluorescent lights. The steady beep beep beep of the heart monitor, the drips of the IV embedded in the crease of my left arm. Steve’s gentle breathing as he leans closer to me. It all overwhelms my senses at once.

Ok, I’m at the hospital. Time to do a quick check. I wiggle my toes and flex my legs. Check. I wriggle my hips and twist my waist. Check. I tense my abs and stomach– yowch. I lift both arms. Ouch! Right arm hurts. I glance down at the bright blue bandages wrapped above my elbow. Images of flying back into the headboard sputter inside my fuzzy head. A flare of pain flashes at my lips. Reaching up, I startle when I feel the butterfly bandages.

I inhale deeply as it all comes back like a too-focused nightmare scattered across my mind’s eye and I sit up fast. Steve lunges for me as I cry out and clutch at my chest. My hand is met with thick bandages instead of thin blankets. Steve places a warm hand on my stomach and the other on my lower back for support.

My heart sinks as I prepare myself … and look down. The blankets have fallen to the bed, revealing wrappings encompassing my torso from the swell of my breasts to a few inches above my navel, Steve’s thumb gently rubbing soft circles against the cloth. Black and purple bruises in the shape long fingers stand out against the paleness of the off-white bandages, peeking out from underneath them.

“Y/n,” Steve whispers. “Y/n, try and relax. You’re safe now.”

I look up at him, my face blank with shock. I can’t believe Bucky did this to me. He would never, ever lay a hand on me. Now there’s glaring proof of what he would never do, for all the world to see.

Tears begin pouring down my cheeks as I reach for Steve, my face scrunching as sobs tear from my throat.

“It’s alright, honey. I’ve got you,” Steve reassures as he slides his arms to wrap them around me. Tucking my head under his chin, he gently smooths a hand across my back as I wail against his chest, careful of my injuries.

The door flies open as a very dishevelled Tony Stark stumbles in, his worried brown eyes focusing on me. My sobbing calms as I turn my head to him, sniffling.

“They said she woke up, I was just going to get coffee. I swear, I was here the whole time,” he promises me. “Shit, I forgot the coffee,” he rambles, looking very tired and out of sorts, hurrying to the side of the bed not occupied by Steve, placing his hand over Steve’s on my shoulder.

I can feel Steve look up at him, his chin moving against the top of my head as he speaks.

“How do they know she’s awake? She just woke up. Five seconds ago,” Steve whispers, amused.

“I was walking past the nurses’ station and overheard them. Must have noticed it on the monitor. I’m surprised I beat them here, to be honest–” Tony’s interrupted by what I assume is the doctor, judging by his confident smile and white lab coat, entering the open door followed by two nurses in bright blue scrubs.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s good to see you awake,” he says as he approaches the foot of the bed. He’s very tall, probably as tall as Steve, with light tan skin and warm amber-colored eyes. His wavy dark chestnut hair is cut in a medium length atop his head, and shorn below the ears. I would guess his age to be in his late 30s. The lavender of his Oxford button up matches well with the matte black of his tie.

“My name is Dr. Gregory Sanders, I’m the head of the Pulmonary and Critical Care Department here at Mt. Sinai. These are my colleagues, Jennifer and Xiomara,” he waves a hand at each woman standing behind him, who nod and softly smile in my direction.

“Mr. Stark was adamant at giving you the most advanced care and treatment for your injuries, as well as discretion, therefore I am here to check up on you to explain things and check on your healing progress, also to answer any questions or concerns you may have. If you’ll pardon me, Captain,” Dr. Sanders smiles at Steve, motioning to his side of the bed.

“Of course, Doctor, excuse me,” Steve answers as he gives me a kiss on top of my head and steps away from the bed.

I wipe my tears discreetly with my fingers, blushing when the doctor hands me a tissue.

“Thank you,” I murmur, wiping my face, Tony taking it and tossing it in the trash.

The doctor smiles down at me. “No trouble at all.” He scoots the wheeled stool chair from under the small work table bolted to the wall and sits, unbuttoning his lab coat and glides over to me.

“Alright, Y/n, may I call you Y/n?” At my nod of consent, he smiles and continues. “First and foremost, I want you to know that you are safe here. Guards have been placed at your door 24/7-” I shoot Tony a side glare and he frowns at me “-and the staff have been notified to report any suspicious behavior to Mr. Stark or Captain Rogers.”

My heart skips a beat as I take this in. The only person who I would be in danger of is Bucky. And there’s no way in hell he would come back and hurt me again. He didn’t even mean to in the first place. But, knowing how that might sound to a stranger who doesn’t understand the situation, I remain quiet and nod in understanding.

“Alright, good. Now, I’m going to explain the extent of your injuries. Do you think you’re up for that?” the doctor kindly asks.

I take in a deep breath, regretting it immediately and cough at the tight squeeze around my chest. Thankfully no blood splatters anywhere this time, as I cover my mouth and wince, my other hand going to my sore ribs.

“Take it easy, Y/n. It is important to breathe deep to prevent pneumonia but slow and steady. Too fast will aggravate your injuries.” He places a hand gently on my elbow, then lowers it back to his lap.

I nod again, feeling Tony sit on the side of the bed and placing his hand between my shoulder blades. Steve watches from next to the head of the hospital bed, his hand on the mattress.

“Alright, dear. You arrived here roughly 18 hours ago, unconscious and in respiratory distress. You presented with a hemothorax, or bleeding in the lungs and the sacs surrounding them, making it difficult to breathe, almost like you were drowning. After clearing your lungs and stopping the bleeding in surgery, we discovered five of your ribs broken,” he places his hands on the center of his rib cage. “They were pushed inward, puncturing both lungs and very nearly piercing your heart.”

I see Steve’s hand clench tight into a fist out of the corner of my eye and feel Tony’s hand twitch on my shoulder.

“This was the result of a serious impact on your chest cavity, Y/n.” He peers down at the finger bruises peeking out from the top of the wraps. “I’ve never seen anyone actually shatter ribs with their bare hands.” Dr. Sanders looks back up at me, concern clearly visible in his eyes.

I duck my head, avoiding his gaze, feeling Tony’s hand tremble slightly against my back. I have no idea what Tony and Steve have told the staff here, or even if they’ve notified the police. Do they even know what happened? Do they know that Bucky’s gone? I don’t even remember anything after calling Tony, who got to me first? I have so many questions but I don’t want to ask any in front of the doctor. I have no idea what to say.

The doctor sighs and pats my knee. “Ok, we won’t get into that at the moment. What concerns me right now is your recovery.”

I sigh, wincing at the zing of pain, and bring my gaze back up, giving him my full attention once more.

“You were taken to the OR immediately upon arrival. A procedure called pleurodesis was performed. It’s where the surgeon inserts a tube into your lungs and vacuums out the fluid. Both of your lungs were punctured, so both were drained. You have incisions here and here,” he points to the lower corner of each side of my rib cage. “And also here and here,” He points both hands to the middle of my chest, a finger touching the middle swell of each breast. “These were made to reset your ribs and sew up the puncture wounds.

“And it’s important to limit movement while they heal,” the doctor continued. “A buildup of fluid is possible in the future, which, in case this happens, another procedure will need to be performed. Your ribs, unfortunately, there’s not much to be done. We reset them, as I said, and wrapped them up. We can only wait for them to heal now. You’ll want to take it easy and not twist or raise your arms above your head for at least two weeks. There’s no cast we can place around your torso, it would be quite painful and suffocating,” he winces.

“I’ve left instructions with Mr. Stark on the healing process and aftercare at home and do’s and don’ts, as well as prescriptions for pain and antibiotics. Follow those instructions for the antibiotics to the letter and finish the whole bottle,” he orders, pointing at me with an eyebrow raised.

I nod again, the corner of my mouth lifting up in a tiny smile.

“We will be administering antibiotics and pain medication here through your IV at different intervals, so there is no need to worry about that now. The wounds on your face,” he gestures to my mouth, “are superficial and should heal completely within a few weeks. Dab on antibacterial lotion after every shower and before bed and allow them to breathe every once and awhile without the band-aids. Now, because of the extent of your injuries, you will need to stay here for a least 72 hours. We want to keep you under observation, be sure there’s no infection and your lungs are returning to their full capacity. I want to keep you monitored until you are able to breathe in deeply without wanting to scream.” The doctor pats my knee and looks at Tony and Steve, then back to me.

“Do you have any questions or concerns?” he asks.

My brain fuzzes out, mind going blank. Nope, nothing in here.

“I think we’re fine for now, Doctor. Thank you for your time and the explanations,” Steve replies, running a hand through my hair.

“Of course. If you have any concerns, I’ve given my personal number to Mr. Stark, at his insistence. I’ll be happy to help.” Dr. Sanders nods to Steve and Tony, then clears his throat. “Alright, gentlemen, I am going to need to ask you to leave the room so I can examine our patient.” He smiles at me and reaches for the box of gloves behind him on the work table, pulling out two purple ones.

A flash of panic zings through my body as I finally speak.

“C-can they stay?” I ask, my voice raspy from disuse.

The good doctor looks up surprised and must see the panic on my face. “Of course, if that’s what you’re comfortable with, yes they may stay.” He motions for the nurses, who close the door and step forward.

Panic courses through me again and I press myself back into the raised bed as they approach me.

Tony, who froze when I asked if they could stay, finally got his head back in place and takes his hand in mine, moving back as the blonde nurse moves to my side and starts removing the clip holding the wraps together.

Steve places his large hand on the back of my neck, assuring me of his presence, not bothered at all that I asked them to stay.

I have to sit up so the nurse, Jennifer, I read from her name badge, can unwind the wrapping gently. For a fleeting second in my fear, I wish Bucky was here to comfort me. But then I remember. And breathe out a sob.

“You’re doing fine, Y/n,” the doctor gently reassures, patting my thigh as he scoots closer to the bed. Lowering the side railing, he helps remove the last of the wrapping and leans in close. “Alright, Y/n, can you lay on your back for me?”

I sniff and nod in response, laying back. The black curly-haired nurse with lovely caramel colored skin, Xiomara, I remember, steps behind Steve and lowers the bed to a few degrees above flat, Steve removing his hand from my neck.

Tony and Steve take in deep, sharp breaths simultaneously.

My face squinches as tears leak down the sides of my face, dripping into the shells of my ears. I don’t want to look. It must be bad if it takes them by surprise. I clench my eyes shut and exhale. Squeezing my hands into fists, one squeezing Tony’s hand pretty hard, I look down at myself. My stomach flips.

A deep purple-black bruise in the form of Bucky’s large hand sits right in between my breasts. A sob escapes my throat as I lay my head back down, trying to get a grip on myself.

It’s ok, it’s over with, now you just have to deal with taking care of yourself.

I take a breath and look down again. Two small white square gauze bandages held down by medical tape grace the middle swells of both breasts, right where the doctor said the incisions were made. More tears escape as I lean up a bit to look further down my chest. My eyes widen.

Blooms of dark blue and purple decorate the entire area of my ribs, just below the the bra line. I start to breath shallow in panic. What the hell??? Bucky didn’t touch me there!!

“Y/n, it’s alright, doll, deep breaths,” I hear Steve say, his voice quaking.

“Listen to the good Captain, there, sweetheart. This discoloration is from the hemothorax. The bleeding into lungs, remember? This is just bruising remaining from the blood, it will heal very quickly, I promise,” the doctor reassures.

“Ok, now rest your head, I’m going to examine you and make it as painless as I can, alright?”

I hold back another sob and reach for Steve’s hand, laying my head back down. He quickly envelops it in his large one. I glance up at him and see him watching the doctor’s hands intently, his jaw clenching. Glancing over at Tony, his usually tan face is ashen, his free hand crossing his chest and tucked under his armpit. His eyes are hard and focused as he watches the doctor.

My gaze drifts back to the ceiling, trying not to think about my naked chest on display. I trust Tony and Steve with my life. They found me, I assume, naked in my bedroom, covered in blood, so it’s not like it’s the first time they’ve seen me bare-chested. Still, it’s very unnerving.

I can feel the doctor’s cool hands as he palpates the bruise from Bucky’s hand. I hear him tell the nurses there is no change, no clots. He moves to each upper incision. I shiver and blush when his sleeve brushes against my nipple, feeling them pebble in response. I close my eyes, squeezing out more tears. Steve gently squeezes my hand. I hate feeling this vulnerable. I’m almost wishing it would just be over so I can curl up and cry in peace.

He checks under the bandages and claims them to be healing well, no sign of infection. His hands move to my ribs and he gently presses, feeling for the breaks. I squeak in pain when a sharp sting explodes under his fingertips. Tony jerks forward, but holds himself back at the last second, his hand shaking in mine.

“My apologies, Y/n, Mr. Stark. I know this is uncomfortable. We’re almost finished,” Dr. Sanders reassures, looking very apologetic.

His fingers find the last two incisions at the bottom of my rib cage. They are clean and healing well, no infections.

“Alright, my dear, can you sit up for me? We’re going to wrap you in fresh bandaging.”

I nod again, Steve and Tony leaning forward to grasp me by each shoulder and help lift me up.

Jennifer and Xiomara are quick to wrap me back up and Dr. Sanders makes quick notes into the room’s computer. The ladies ask me if I would like some ice chips and I nod eagerly, my throat sore and dry. They leave to fetch me the chips and more blankets and pillows.

Dr. Sanders finishes his report as Steve sits next to me on the bed. Sniffling, I lay back down, his hand resting on my thigh. Steve gently lifts the blankets up to shoulders, his face a picture of forced calm. Tony is still very shaken up and sits on the floor, his mop of messy brown hair the only thing visible from my point of view. He still has a death grip on my hand and I squeeze it gently.

“Ok, Y/n, last thing for now.” The doctor turns to us, holding up a peculiar device. “This is called a Voldyne Incentive Spirometer. You breathe into this tube as hard as you can to lift this little marble to the 2000 mark and hold it there for 15 seconds. It will help promote healing and prevent pneumonia. You need to use it every hour while you’re awake.”

He hands me the device and I nod. Steve takes it and places it on the rolling food table pushed against the wall in the corner.

“Alright then, my colleagues should be back soon with what you need. Please call me if there are any issues or questions. If there’s an emergency, push the nurse button on the side of your bed, there.” The doctor points to the inside of the railing as he pulls it back into place. There are several buttons, including ones to shift the bed into different positions, for the tv, and a bright red one with a nurse’s hat. I’m guessing that’s the one to call the nurse station.

“Be sure to rest plenty. You’re on a bland soft food diet for today, dinner will not be very exciting, I’m sorry to say. But you can have as many popsicles and ice chips as you want. Alright, Y/n, I’ll see you tomorrow. Captain, Mr. Stark.” He nods a farewell to them and leaves, wisely refraining from commenting on Tony’s position on the floor, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Reeling from that huge load of information, I plop my head back into the bed, blowing out a breath. Closing my eyes, I can feel both of Tony and Steve’s stares on me. My body tenses as I wait for the inevitable.

“What happened?” they both ask me at the same time.

I cringe and open my eyes. This is not going to be pleasant.

To be continued…

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

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