#you can't just be throwing words like shortstop at me and not start with a glossary at the very top

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Prompt: “Shit. Shit, that’s a lot of blood.”

Pairing: Crubbles

[What's that??? Light angst???? In this economy???? While everyone is alive?????? ?????????]

It's supposed to be a friendly game of baseball, pilots versus navigators. Bubbles is pitching. Harry's at shortstop. Bucky gets up to bat, and there's a cheer as he points out to right field like he's Babe Ruth. 

Bubbles pitches. Bucky hits, and then Bubbles is on the ground, Bucky's grand slam hitting him right on the forehead. 

Harry is stuck in place for a moment, then the blood starts flowing, and he rushes to Bubbles, grabbing Bucky by the back of his shirt and yanking him away, seeing red in more ways than one as his mind focuses on the blood coming from Bubbles and identifying Bucky as a threat. 

"Hey! It wasn't on purpose!" Bucky shouts. 

Harry drops to his knees and reaches for Bubbles. Whose eyes are open but unfocused. And there's more blood pouring out of the cut on his head. "Shit," Harry says. "Shit, that's a lot of blood."

"I'm okay," Bubbles says, words a little slurred. He lifts a hand. Harry grabs his wrist before he can touch the cut. 

"Don't," Harry says, curling his fingers into Bubbles's palm to give him something to hold onto. "We need–"

"Here," Bucky says, dropping across from Harry and passing him a clean, damp towel.

Harry takes it and presses it to the cut. The towel starts to turn red more quickly than Harry wants. "Fuck," he says. 

"Head wounds bleed, Croz," Bubbles says, his words smoother. He looks at Bucky and gives him a loopy smile. "Wasn't a real hard hit," he says. "Just looked good because my pitch was so fast."

Bucky cracks a laugh and pats Bubbles on the shoulder. "Sure," he says. "Whatever you say, Bubbles." He glances over his shoulder. "Buck's coming with the medics," he says. 

"I don't need–" Bubbles tries to sit up and turns very, very white. 

"You're about to throw up," Harry says just as Bubbles says, "I'm gonna throw up." 

Harry pulls on Bubbles's arm and gets him on his side just as he loses his lunch. "It's okay," Harry murmurs, cupping Bubbles's shoulder so he doesn't flop onto his back. "It's okay. Get it out."

"Harry," Bubbles says, voice sounding wet and raw. 

"Right here," Harry says. "I'm right here." Bubbles is so pale but the long, thin scar from his temple to the edge of his jaw is bright pink. The scar Bubbles came back with after he went down and walked back to base. Back to Harry. Then he got sent to London and Harry couldn't go with him. Had to wait for Bubbles to come back to him again. "I'm right here," Harry says again. 

"Coming through," Buck says, and the small crowd around Bubbles and Harry parts for the medics. 

Bucky has to pull Harry away from Bubbles. He wraps an arm around Harry's shoulders from behind and digs his fingers into Harry's bicep, pulling his attention. "His pupils are even," he whispers to Harry. "He knows where he is. He knows who you are. He was able to make fun of me. I bet they don't even send him off-base."

"I can't–" Harry's throat gets tight, and he swallows hard. He can't look away from Bubbles, who is now on the stretcher and still watching Harry, too. 

"If they send him to Londong, it won't be for long," Bucky continues. "And I'm sure I can convince Jack he should have someone with him to keep an eye on him on the train."

"He'll send a medic," Harry says, the idea of Bubbles being away from him again clawing at his stomach. 

"No, he won't," Bucky says. "I'll make sure."

Harry watches the medics move away from him. He watches Bubbles do his best to keep watching him. "I need to be with him," he says, the words strangled. 

"You need to give Smokey a few minutes to check him out," Bucky answers. "You know that."

"Uh-huh," Harry says. "I know that."

Bucky gives him a hard shake. "I don't think you know that," he says. He gives Harry another shake. 

Harry's teeth click together, and the hard sound of it makes his panic go quiet. He takes a deep breath, then nods. "Yeah," he says, digging his heels into the dirt to focus himself. "I do know it. Really."

Bucky drops his arm and claps him on the back. "There you are," he says. 

Harry finally looks away from the departing stretcher and looks up at Bucky. "Sorry," he says. 

Bucky waves him off. "Don't worry about it," he says. "Your fella went down like a sack of rocks. It looked bad."

I need to be with him, Harry thinks but manages not to say. Bucky's right. It's bleeding because it's a head wound. Bubbles's pupils were even. He knew where he was. He knew who Harry was. He'll be okay. 

He'll be okay.

[eponymousfics]

i'm currently researching the actual real rules for baseball for the next chapter of tsp you people better appreciate this