6767/Take Your Medicine

Take Your Medicine
Date of Scene:	02 July 2021
Location:	Brownstone Apartment 3C
Synopsis:	Shuri crashes the post pit-fight mayhem, and somehow triggers a reconciliation between Sam and Bucky - while Cael tries not to get in the way. But when did Bucky see Grease?
Cast of Characters:	Cael Becker, Sam Wilson, James Barnes, Shuri

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Cael Becker has posed:
    "No sign of your other friends yet," Cael remarks as she enters the apartment - pausing as she takes in the array of plants on the window sill. Unexpected for a 'safe house.' ... huh. "Ditched the van a ways from here, behind some shopping center off that way," she adds, gesturing in the sppropriate direction. She moves to the nearest table, and starts pulling out her offerings - various sandwiches, some bags of chips, the pumpkin seeds, an honest to goodness salad with some dark leafy greens, a six pack of Sierra Nevada beer, and a bottle of whiskey. "Picked up some provisions, too," she remarks. "This place have any glasses?"
    The tension is thick - and she seems to be ignoring it with determination as she makes her way towards the apartment's kitchen - opening cupboards at random until she finds the right one. "Got it." Three glasses in hand - she starts back to the table once more.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    The living room of a small apartment in Harlem, inside a converted brownstone, has been temporarily commandeered as a makeshift triage tent. It's clear that it's somebody's home most of the rest of the time; all of the windowsills (and plenty of the other flat surfaces) are cluttered with potted plants of just about every variety that could reasonably survive in the kind of conditions one might find in a New York apartment, and then there are as many cat beds and towers as there are places for people to sit.

    Chances are they probably don't even use them. Case in point: there's a cardboard box with a blanket folded inside it and a few cat toys, wedged over in the corner.

    But the owner--and the cats--aren't here. Instead it's Sam and Bucky, and a few minutes later, Cael again bearing goods from the bodega on the corner (maybe she bought a few of their famous breakfast sandwiches). Sam's first order of business is padding down the couch so that nobody (read: Bucky) bleeds on it, because Sam can replace towels and sheets just fine, but it's not like he's getting a paycheck from SHIELD anymore. A whole new couch is maybe out of his price range right now.

    "Yeah, should be. I have no idea where," Sam says to Cael and gestures her into the kitchen. "The standing arrangement is 'mi casa es tu casa' so long as we make sure to water the plants. Oh, except for those," and he indicates a stack of canned beverages still plastic wrapped on the kitchen counter. They look fancy. And imported. "I have no idea what they are except expensive."

    Bucky can lay himself down on the couch at his own pace, because unless he outwardly looks like he's struggling, Sam's busying himself laying out medical supplies from the first aid kit he'd brought in from the bathroom. All the usual suspects: scalpel, hemostat, forceps, sutures, non-alcoholic wipes and enough gauze and bandages to make a pretty decent mummy costume.

    He steps away to wash his hands in the bathroom. "Becker--if someone named Jaime rings the buzzer, let them in."

James Barnes has posed:
    At his own pace should be immediately from the looks of Bucky. He's still shirtless from that cage match business. His insides aren't actually as much outside as they might have been earlier, thanks to Mo, but those wounds on his stomach are still nasty and he's still lost a lot of blood. Those are the injuries that stand out most, second would probably the the ones that were so obviously made by the collar he manage to tear off.

    ...but he doesn't sit down immediately. He's wound out, exhausted beyond sanity really. So first? He clears the other rooms in the apartment. Only after that's done, only after he knows there are no boogeymen in the closets, does he settle onto the couch.

Shuri has posed:
    Ugh. She knew this was going to happen. She got the warning when the Bucky-sitter beads went off. And that meant an uber out to Harlem. Needless to say, Shuri isn't in the best of moods when she arrives at the building. Less so when it turns out to be a third floor walk up. There are deprecating comments the entire way up the stairs in Wakandan.

    Finally, she arrives at the apartment. She rather annoyedly knocks at the door with what's quickly becoming her welcome statement for Bucky: "Open the door, and don't run. It would be even more inconvenient than already getting here."

Cael Becker has posed:
    'Open the door and don't run'? Cael's not entirely certain that bodes well for anyone. "Uhh. Is that Jaime?" she asks, looking towards Bucky and Sam. Her hand goes automatically to retrieve one of the guns she stole from the fiasco they just left, and she holds it down and at her side as she slowly and carefully approaches the door, standing off to the side of it rather than directly in the doorway.
    She looks to the two men for their reaction and only at some indication from them would she actually open the door.
    Otherwise she continues to wait tensely with a weapon in hand.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Yeah, Sam is fully okay with letting Bucky do what he wants (within reason... okay, basically so long as he stays in the apartment) because otherwise he knows it'd just lead to another argument. Right now, that's just about the last thing Sam needs, and it's not even just out of concern for Bucky's injuries. Well. Okay. Maybe it is, mostly, because Sam really, really needs to be able to render medical aid without wanting to kill the guy.

    Not that he would. But he'd be thinking about it, and he'd really rather not.

    He's just started pulling on a pair of nitrile gloves when the knock on the door sounds, and he pauses. "No, that isn't Jaime." Sam glances towards Bucky, but even their usual snarky non-verbal communication is just plain not on the table tonight, so he looks away just as quickly, and nods at Cael. "It's fine, let her in," he tells her.

James Barnes has posed:
    ... ... "Fuck me," Bucky mutters under his breath. No, really he adores that snarky little brat, he does, but *tonight* of all nights? Nonononono, this isn't happening. How in the hell did she FIND him AGAIN? One day, he'll stop asking that question and just accept the fact that a tiny princess is going to show up and make annoyed faces at him for the rest of his ever loving life, until he dies, forever.

    "Yeah. Let her in," Bucky says with a sigh that just beats all. He *knows* there is no other option. It's either open the door or... Seriously, there's no other option. There is no 'or'.

    He pushes himself back up a little from where he'd just laid down and does his best to plant a 'see I'm good' smile in place. Pale, sweaty, battered, bruised, burned and GOOD.

    "I swear to God, if either one of you make this *worse*, I will kill you both in your sleep." He really doesn't sound like he's kidding either. No, he's serious. Do. Not. Make. This. Worse. Sam may be pissed at Buck right now, but he would *know* just how serious. Making this situation worse, right now, with everything else, would be an unforgivable sin.

    Imagine Cael's surprise when she opens the door to find a tiny little ... Shuri?

Shuri has posed:
    There is, in fact, no "or". Shuri is very bad at taking no for an answer. Really, she doesn't take it from T'Challa, which means everyone else is pretty much several steps under that. When the door's opened, Cael gets a quick look-over. Up, down, back up again. Then she spots Sam deeper in, and that at least gets her to relax a notch, visibly. Instead of preparing for a fight, she asks Cael and Sam "What kind of stupidity did he get into now?" She moves to step inside, clearly assuming that Cael is going to move out of the way.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael had never stood in front of the door in the first place. Sure - Sam and Bucky said to go ahead and open the door. But one can never have too much caution. ...right?
    Right.
    She watches the slender figure step past her, giving Bucky and Sam a 'da fuck this?' look from behind her back, before she closes the door and locks it once more. "Honestly? I don't have the full story. Pit fighting gone... well. Crazy. It's been an interesting evening."
    Cael, for her part, was dressed like she'd intended to party - form-fitting pants, and a blouse that bares her midriff and leaves little to the imagination. She just hadn't quite found the party she'd been looking for.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    That was quite the choice of words there, Bucky, and the threat earns him a blank stare from Sam for the space of a few heartbeats before he's turning away, the muscles in his jaw clenching. He goes through a few cycles of measured breathing before he moves over to the door.

    Shuri's question just gets a tense shake of Sam's head, and then in fact he's stepping past her, out into the hallway, because there are footsteps on the stairs and a few moments later a young man in scrubs appears. He's panting, but smiling, and as he passes over two bags of blood from what is clearly his own lunchbox and not an actual medical transport cooler, they have a quiet but good-natured conversation. Something about Jaime wanting Sam to say hi to Angel for him, and Sam telling him to shoot his shot on his own time, because Sam's not gonna do it for him.

    A few more supplies that Sam's medical kit didn't contain exchange hands, and then they're saying their goodbyes.

James Barnes has posed:
    There's no heat to his voice when he launches into his explanation, it's just matter of fact, the truth... without hesitation, "There was kid, 25 years ago... he was 5, his mom was collateral damage when I ..." Okay, he hesitates there. It wasn't him and if he uses that pronoun the night'll get worse. "... when the Winter Soldier assassinated an employee of the department of defense that was working on a project counter intuitive to HYDRA's goals. He was in trouble tonight."

    So, Bucky had to be there for him. "I was fighting in his place, he owed a debt he couldn't pay." Man, he just really spills it with this little girl, doesn't he? Likely because he knows she'll win and get it out of him in the end.

    "It went south, but I'm okay." The brutal, straight forward honesty of his explanation has him looking tired in more ways than one. Haunted shadows of the past join the exhausted one in his pale blues. For just right now, in this moment, those blue eyes are fixed on the little Princess. "I'm sorry, Shur."

Shuri has posed:
    Shuri holds up a finger as she looks at Bucky. "No. You do not get to be sorry when you have kept me waiting this long /and/ you are sitting here bleeding all over the place." She walks over, and literally, if Bucky does not prevent it, he is about to get Gibbs-smacked upside the head by a dainty princess hand (that hits harder than expected; she learned to fight with T'Challa).

    "THIS is why I have to babysit you!" Her tone is most definitely chastising. "Because otherwise you go out with Avengers and Gun Strippers and get yourself shot!" She's already starting to reach into a pocket, when she sees Jaime coming in. "Good. Suffer with primitive medicine." She says in a huff.

Cael Becker has posed:
    'Primitive medicine'? Cael mouths. She watches all of this with puzzled curiosity - and more than a little bemusement. She finally deposits her gun on a handy surface and walks towards the table where she'd left the food. She picks up a bottle of beer, popping the cap open with a bottle opener on her keychain, and takes a swig from her bottle.
    At least she finally understands what happened tonight.
    "So. I'm Cael," she introduces herself simply, gaze still on the unfamiliar woman.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam is busy, but he still manages to get the highlights of Bucky's explanation. It fills in a few of the gaps in his own understanding, and once Sam has carefully nudged the door shut with his foot (he's cradling the supplies in the crooks of his elbows, because he *just put gloves on!*) he adds, "He'll *be* okay once I'm done with him." Somehow that comes out more like a threat than he means it to, and Sam's head tips back so he can groan at the ceiling.

    Inhale-two-three-four, hold-two-three-four, exhale-two-three-four, hold-two-three-four.

    "Okay," he says as he dumps the bartered-for medical supplies onto the table in front of the couch, and then takes a seat on the one corner where he's left space clear. "If you want to talk feel free, but one of you," he looks between Shuri and Cael, "needs to wash your hands and glove up, because I'm going to need some help."

James Barnes has posed:
    He does get slapped, because... well, he'd never try to forcibly stop her from doing anything. Unless it was something putting herself in danger. Bucky ducks out of the way of it a little, but still takes the brunt. "Fuck, Shuri! Stop! I didn't get shot!" Well, he didn't. ...this time. There's not a bullet wound on him.

    He holds his hands up, the left one - that shiny metal one - doesn't seem like it's moving quite the way it should. He can't get the index, middle and ring finger to extend properly. That's probably from the zap from ripping the collar off with it.

    SIGH! "Look, Shur, I'll do whatever you want me to do. You want me to go to the embassy with you tonight? You wanna stay here? Just please, can we have this conversation tomorrow? Seriously can we just press pause on the 'Bad James' until morning? I'm tired, Shuri... and I'm hurt." More with the flat out, brutal honesty. Weird coming from him, so fucking weird. "I promise, you can smack me all you want in the morning." He lays back down and stretches out on the couch, eyes closed.

Shuri has posed:
    Shuri sighs. She looks over to Cael first. "Do you have medical training?" she asks her, and then looks back to Bucky. "Fine. For tonight, you get a reprieve." She reaches into her pocket, taking out a kimoyo bead, moving it about near Bucky's metal arm, and she shakes her head. "Shoddy engineering. Electrical overload?"

    She considers. "Are there tools here? Proper ones?" she adds at the end of that. She'll let Sam take the point on the medical side.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I've had First Aid training," Cael remarks - as the woman fails to introduce herself. Intentional, she wonders? Wouldn't be surprised, given the people she's with. "But I just opened my beer," she complains, taking a pointed swig.
    After that, however, she sets the beer aside to move towards the sink - washing her hands thoroughly with the soap on hand. Shaking them out, she moves towards the box of gloves to retrieve a few. "You're going to have to tell me what I'm doing," she says to Sam. "I have a feeling you know a lot more about this medical stuff than I do."

Sam Wilson has posed:
    The interplay between Shuri and Bucky goes mostly ignored because Sam's busy, but he does look up when Bucky gets smacked. It makes all of the air in Sam's lungs burst out of him in incredulous laughter, but when he tries to say anything about maybe not beating his patient up (more than he already is) the only thing that comes out is a wheeze.

    Maybe part of him thinks Bucky deserved it.

    "I have a few things in the bag with my wings," Sam says, and gestures to a nondescript duffel sitting next to the front door. "But it's just a field kit. Not sure how useful it'll be." Still, if anyone can make do, he suspects it'll be Shuri.

    He shifts so that he's perched on the edge of the table and while Cael is washing up--he shoots her a roll of his eyes at her complaining--Sam puts his elbows on his knees. "You'll do fine. I had medical training in the Air Force," he explains, which lacks detail but should probably suffice.

James Barnes has posed:
    "Yeah, used it to rip off a control collar, caused some sparking." Finally he... decides to grow some manners and adds, "Cael, this is Princess Shuri of Wakanda." ...a literal ROYAL pain his ass. The arm isn't really that bad. Of course it's a travesty of engineering to the genius princess, but the damage isn't bad. Few circuits that control fine motor function are shot, he probably couldn't manage to touch his fingertips to his thumb with those three fingers, but the rest of it seems to be functioning fine.

    "Not funny, Sam, it's really not." Do. Not. Make. This. Worse.

    The injuries to flesh and bone are far worse. It could even be that he's only still alive because of Morrigan's magical stabilization efforts. They closed his wounds enough to stave off most of the bleeding and enough to keep his intestines in his body, but they're still nasty and deep. Six inches of adamantium claws to the gut tend to do some damage.

Shuri has posed:
    "A pleasure." Shuri says to Cael, as Bucky introduces her. She turns and moves over to the duffel bag, opening it up to see what tools are in there for working on the high-tech wings. "Primitive. But they'll do." She takes them out and comes back over near Bucky, specifically the metal arm. "Hold still." She'll move to open the access panels to the arm.

    A secondary thought seems to cross her mind, and she sets the bead she was using down near her, where it projects a 3D internal image of Bucky's wounded vitals, courtesy of the Buckysitter beads.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Uh- yeah," Cael agrees. "A pleasure." The look she gives Shuri is almost puzzled, followed by a more pointed 'the fuck?' she shoots towards Bucky. //Princess//? "Sorry. I think they forgot to cover curtsying in finishing school," she remarks - as she finishes pulling on the gloves, and turns a curious gaze on the projection from the bead. "That looks handy. Alright, Wilson, what's first?" she asks as she waits for direction.
    It's a bit crowded around the couch - with all of them gathered around Bucky. But she'll deal.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam absolutely does not look cowed in the face of Bucky's scolding. In fact, Sam just looks vaguely unimpressed, before he says, "What, you can dish it out but you can't take it?" He sniffs and then looks away, gesturing for Cael to take position near Bucky's legs, which is close enough for her to do what Sam needs her to do.

    Which in this instance is mostly opening sterile packets and bottles, or handing Sam things.

    "I'm going to start an IV line so that I can get a blood tranfusion going," he says, and though he's kind of generally announcing it, it's mostly for Bucky's benefit. He cleans a site on the inside of Bucky's elbow with an alcohol prep pad and then, head bowed, gets to work. Without looking up, he continues, "You know, I'd say you're lucky, but from the look of that scan you had some serious internal lacerations before Mo healed you. You probably needed surgery."

James Barnes has posed:
    Cael just gets a helpless shrug, a kind of 'can't pick your friends'? Thing. Actually you can, it's family you can't pick. Something Bucky *thinks* he does't have. But the man has family in spades.

    Sitting still, that's what Bucky's doing. Truth be told, he is feeling a little shaky. That left hand is still as death, but his right one Sam is working on is trembling.

    Bit crowded indeed. He really is all pale and shaking and sweaty. Maybe even feeling a little nauseous. He could take every last one of them down with one might tidal wave of barf. He does peek at the bead and what it's showing with one eye.

    "You fuckin' brat," he grouses ... but the affection in his tone is only very mildly, VERY mildly tainted by the irritation. "That's how you did it, isn't it?" He's not a rocket scientist but it doesn't take one to figure it out really. "How long have you been spying on my... " He fishes for the right word. Bodily functions just sounds all sorts of wrong. "...spying on me?" Because the right words don't happen. "The ones in my pocket, you... they..." A beat and, "Shuri, that's not fair," he complains.

    "Yeah, and Sharon would have gotten me out and gotten me to a hospital," .... or, hey, it's Sharon, mighta been a back alley butcher shop? "... because shit happens when we do what we do, Sam. But we still gotta do it." There's no heat or anger in his voice, just... he's just tired. Maybe a hint of 'please, just *get it* so this bullshit can stop, but no anger.

Shuri has posed:
    Shuri looks over to Cael with a faint shrug at the WTF look. "Sergeant Barnes has a gap between what he is capable of and what he is going to attempt. Occasionally someone has to keep an eye on that gap." It's an attempt at explanation, though it likely doesn't explain what she's actually looking to have explained.

    Her hands move nimbly as she begins to repair the damaged circuit paths. When Bucky chastizes her, there's an intentional snap of electricity as she crosses a circuit path a moment. No damage, but it'll hurt like a bitch...after all, the arm is hooked into the nerves. "YOU asked for my help. I provided it. I asked for your assistance to help more, and you have left me hanging. If anyone has grounds to complain here, it is me, James." She is, however, repairing the damage admirably to the arm. "This is shoddy Russian engineering. We will need to do some improvements so this does not happen again."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael does indeed obediently open packaging for Sam - handing things off as needed, and even helping hold things in place, and taping things off as directed. She works quietly, efficiently, and with focus. Oh, there were absolutely times when she would give people a hard time - and talk shit with the best of them.
    And then there were times when you put on your game face, and get the shit down. Especially when the patient has shown a tendency to be a bit twitchy.
    She does, however, offer towards Bucky with a wry grin, "This is a sight better than the care I gave you last time, huh?" she remarks, before focusing back on the work.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "Just let me get this IV going and we'll get some fluids in you," Sam tells Bucky, because despite whatever interpersonal conflict they have going on right now, he still gives a shit, and he can tell Bucky's not feeling too hot. "Couple of minutes, that's all."

    The conversation mostly continues over Sam's head except for a few times when he interrupts, saying things like "Pump your fist a few times," after he's tied a tourniquet on Bucky's upper arm, or a quiet warning before he sets the IV needle to Bucky's skin.

    He's certainly not going to interrupt Shuri giving Bucky shit, because he looks up and clearly wants to do the same, but the fact of the matter is he has more important things to do right now.

    Cael also gets saddled with the holding the first bag of blood in the air, once Sam's done with the saline flush and got the line attached. But then Sam glances up and gestures towards a hanging plant nearby.

James Barnes has posed:
    Bucky is honestly and truly quietly giving thanks to God that the little Bucky-Sitter was in his other pants or something the day they fought in the sphere.

    But he does start to agree with, "Yeah, I know... we have some shi..." shit to catch up on, that's where he was going with that but...

    *ZZZZAAAAAAP*

    His shoulder jerks involuntarily while the fingers of that metal hand seem to almost spasm. He lets out a growling kinda yelp. "What the *fuck*, Shur?! You did that on purpose!" He spits out. Everything beyond that, other words that were spoken at him, they weren't heard really.

    His pale has gone more toward a shade of green. "I think I'm gonna puke," he mumbles. No... no wait. He takes a few long, deep breaths and lets them out slowly, again, repeat. No vomit forthcoming, yet.

    "C'mon, just give me a fuckin' break..." Is he asking Shuri or the entire audience? Kind of seems the latter and those words are /pleading/. He squeezes his eyes shut and, once his IV's in, reaches up carefully with his right hand to press his index finger and his thumb into the corners of his eyes.

Shuri has posed:
    "Sergeant Barnes, if I do anything, you can assume that it's on purpose. Whether that be a reminder not to ignore me, or whether it's keeping an eye on you because you seem to feel a psychological need to put your life in danger rather than let your friends help you with it. And the title is "Princess", not "fuckin' brat"." OOH. Not just "James", but "Sergeant Barnes". To him, not just about him. Someone is in the doghouse.

    That said, the continuing repairs move smoothly, and there are no further crossed wires. She gets the arm back working again...honestly, probably better than it did before it was damaged, and she closes up the access panel, as she looks back to Sam. "Do you have things under control, or do we need more medical help?" It isn't that she doubts Sam, and that much is clear in her face and tone to him. But she does care about the wounded lunkhead, and if he needs more help, she'll be sure he has it.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael doesn't mind holding up the bag - though at the nod from Sam, she's happy to put the hanging plant to use. Retrieving a bit of gauze, she strings it through the hole in the bag, and hangs it from the plant, giving a nod of satisfaction.
    "...if his insides have been torn up, is it safe letting him eat or drink tonight?" Cael asks - yes, momentarily talking like Bucky isn't in the room. But she does shoot him an apologetic look and a shrug of her shoulders. It needed to be asked, as far as she's concerned.
    She then gives Sam a questioning look - reaching for her gloves like she's about to peel them off. But she'll stop, if he asks for more help.
    Otherwise, that beer is getting warmer and flatter by the minute.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    It's a good thing that Sam had already pushed the cannula in; still, he has to move with Bucky's sudden involuntary movement to hold it there with his thumb, as he and Cael were in the middle of negotiating the handover of the medical tape Sam hastily puts into place after. "Really," is all he says, tone flat, before he continues on.

    And given Sam's medical training, his first reaction is to reach for an emesis basin (the kidney-shaped dish that is generally used for medical waste during procedures) in case Bucky actually does end up vomiting. After Bucky manages to reign himself in, Sam eyes him critically for several seconds before he nods.

    "This shouldn't feel as cold as the saline, but it'll probably still be cool," he says, of the blood transfusion. No time and no proper equipment to warm it up properly. "Might help with the nausea, actually." And then Sam's up, giving Cael's MacGuyvering a solid nod of approval and a grateful smile for her level-headed assistance before he strips off his gloves and heads into the kitchenette to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

    Actually it's one of those box waters. Maybe all of the plant-life was a tip-off to the apartment's occupant being some kind of environmentalist. Hey, Sam's no judge. Save the turtles.

    "Any gastrointestinal perforations he had before, Morrigan managed to take care of those in the field." He cracks open the lid of the water and presses it into Bucky's hand along with an admonition to only take small sips, and then Sam has to do another round of hand-washing before he puts on another pair of gloves.

    "I'm fine, I've got this," he says, and that's both to Shuri and to Cael; they don't need the intervention of Wakanda medical tech, and Cael can go drink her beer in peace.

James Barnes has posed:
    Oh, this is not going anywhere good. Not anywhere good at all. He's trying... he's /tried/ to damned near beg them all to stop. But the verbal blows and the physical pain and all the bullshit just *keeps* coming. Now ... there's no more asking in him. He's exhausted, he's pissed, he's scared, he's... every negative emotion there is all rolled up into one crazy ball of Bucky Barnes tension. His left eye twitches a little, he gets that thousand yard stare, somewhere off over Sam's shoulder. If his friend's paying attention he might notice that stare as the warning sign it is.

    When those pale blues come back into focus, his words are soft... in the beginning. "Everyone, get... the... " the last of it is bellowed in a rush of air like he's trying to shove all of that crap out at one time. "AWAY FROM ME NOW!"

    Even as he's yelling, he's pushing himself up off the couch, or at least into a seated position. Then he'll go for trying to stand, fail a little and end up back on his ass on the couch. His eyes are wild and wide, his breathing labored, rasping. His pulse and blood pressure are both through the roof - the Bucky-Sitter is getting a work out with those vitals.

    Every day he tries, he struggles to be 'normal'. He struggles against the darkness and the nightmares and the flashbacks. Most days, he hangs okay all things considered. But... other days, he loses his shit. He looks like a wild animal, flight or fight. "Don't touch me... don't... just stop... don't... don't touch me. Just stop... stop... no more..." It's like a little mantra in his head that's coming out in barely whispered words along.

    There was a time, not too terribly long ago, when one of two things would have happened when he lost his shit like this. A. Bucky would leave the building completely, nothing but a catatonic stare for the duration. Or... B. The apartment would end up trashed.

    He's stopped himself, for now, for the moment. As crazy as he looks right now, that's progress.

Shuri has posed:
    Shuri takes a step or two backwards, and watches. There's a sigh, and she looks back to Sam, who seems to have the medical issues under control. She has the engineering issues fixed. So instead, she looks over to Cael and Sam, and says "Keep an eye on him?" And then the princess starts for the door.

Cael Becker has posed:
    When there's that much panic in someone's voice - you pay attention.
    When that person happens to be the Winter Soldier? Yeah. Cael looks like she hasn't entirely ruled out the notion of bolting for the door, herself.
    The nod she gives Shuri is a bit distracted before she returns her attention to Bucky from her new position - as far across the other side of the room as she can get.
    "You got it, James," she remarks. It's the first time she's called him that, to be honest. 'James.' "Take all the time you need, huh?" She shoots Sam a questioning look. Are they... //good// here? As much credit as she gives this man for helping her sort out her own fucked up life - she doesn't know him well.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Immediately, both of Sam's hands go up. He takes a step back, not quite fully out of Bucky's personal space but not all up in it like he has been for the past few minutes, either. "It's fine," he says. He nods once to Shuri in confirmation and makes a mental note to update her in the morning, but for now his focus is going to be on managing Bucky's stress so that Sam can treat those puncture wounds.

    Which Sam glances down at to make sure they haven't started bleeding significantly. They're *just* now putting that blood in him!

    "Take a minute." To Cael, then, he says: "We're fine. Sit down, have something to eat." He points into the kitchenette though, to indicate he means *in there*.

    With a sigh he peels off his gloves, because all of this handwashing is going to murder his skin. "You ever heard of square breathing?" he asks Bucky. He doesn't really wait for an answer, mostly because he's not sure Bucky would be able to manage one. "It's a method for stress management. You start off by emptying out your lungs, and then inhale through your nose slowly, hold at the top of your breath, exhale back out through your mouth, and then hold again, each to a count of four. Maybe give it a try?"

James Barnes has posed:
    There's actually a flicker of relief in those wild eyes when Shuri leaves. The last thing he wants to do is lose his shit and hurt that little girl - because to him, she's just a little girl. She's badass and he'd never stick her in a corner, but she's a kid.

    He shakes his head, his expression all uncertain and confused. "I can't do this..." The breathing? What? Hell, he doesn't know!

    He looks up, his hair falls from his face those pale blues focus on his friend. "Sam?" It's a question, is he not sure? "It's slippin'." He looks down at the bloody claw marks in his midsection, confusion... when did that happen?

    "I can't... I can't hold it..."

    Is this the first time he's ever *recognized* the slipping, the feeling that he's losing himself to whatever demons are dancing in his mind at the moment? Yes, yes it is. ... that's a step in the right direction.

    He does make a pathetic attempt to empty his lungs or whatever, but it just makes him sound a little wheezy.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "...it's the sort of thing you're supposed to practice //before// you need it," Cael murmurs quietly. Look - getting therapy was all part and parcel of when she was put into Witness Protection. Is it any real wonder she knows about that sort of thing?
    Still, she does move into the kitchenette to retrieve her drink - but she reappears in the doorway moments later, taking a sip and watching what it going on with silent concern.
    Silent for the moment, anyways.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "I know you think that, but it isn't true. You absolutely can, and I'm here, I'm going to help you, okay? We're going to get you through it." Sam doesn't even look in Cael's direction as she speaks up, but his expression does go vaguely pinched for a second or two, in response. He lowers his hands.

    All Sam does is listen when Bucky talks, while he tries to verbally work through what's going on in his head. Sam's hands fold together, and he nods. "Okay. We'll circle back around to that once you feel ready to try." Changing tracks, Sam glances around the room, then his eyes are back on Bucky. "This might sound like it comes out of nowhere," because Sam really doesn't have much faith in the therapy Bucky's been getting so far (if any?), "But humor me, Buck. Look around. Can you name five things in this room that you can see right now, for me?"

James Barnes has posed:
    Bucky sucks in a few hitching breaths that make it sound like his throat's closing up or something. He lifts his right hand toward Sam, but puts it back down again. ... reaching for some sort of human contact and then backing out... that's what that was.

    His brow furrows, those blue eyes, hesitant to move off his friend finally do and he looks around.

    "I see Sam..." Good job Buck! "... and scalpels and an IV bag and..." ...and his voice is getting softer and softer with every word, more and more distant. Bad job Buck!

Cael Becker has posed:
    "You've got this," Cael offers in a quiet voice. It isn't really pitched to carry - she doesn't really intend for it to be heard, but then again, someone has enhanced hearing. She lets out a sigh, as James seems to fixate on the medical supplies, and she reaches for the six pack of beer she'd set down earlier, moving it pointedly to try to get Bucky to focus instead on the pile of food - before she follows that up by taking another swig from her bottle.
    Concern remains evident on her features - with lingering traces of caution.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    That was a big oversight on Sam's part, but again--not Bucky's therapist!--so all he has is an oblique glance at what might be triggering for Bucky. And the answer is: a whole fucking lot. Like. Too much for him to manage on his own, clearly.

    But Sam can at least throw a spare towel over the splay of medical supplies on the table. Nothing to be done about the IV bag or the line taped to the inside of Bucky's elbow, because he really needs that blood transfusion.

    "Come on," he says, and gestures over Cael's way--which is also in the opposite direction of the table--where there's plenty of other things to look at. Cat trees that don't get used, a tv stand crowded with (you guessed it!) more plants and a really impressive VHS collection given this isn't the 1990s, a colorful tapestry hanging on the wall. "Two more things, can you do that?"

James Barnes has posed:
    Those pale blues were starting to look as distant as his voice was sounding, but they refocus a bit when the bulk of the tortu... medical crap is covered up. "This is dumb," he murmurs quietly. Might be a good sign, he's being snarky.

    "Is that Grease?" He's found the VHS tapes. "Cael...." So, he knows she's there, that's a plus. Grease and Cael, two more things.

    Then his attention is back squarely on Sam and he breathes out a long ass breath. Maybe he's ready for the square breathing shit? Probably not. He does suck in some air to replace what he just exhaled before he says, "I don't feel good, Sam." Soft, pitiful and so fucking bluntly honest. No, 'I'm okay or I'm fine'. ... he doesn't feel good.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Can't really blame you for that. Tonight sucked - but the kid's okay," Cael points out as she fails utterly at the 'shut up and stay out of the way' job she'd been assigned. She gives a shrug of her shoulders, then swigs a little more beer. She's quickly working her way through that bottle.
    "...are you a fan of Grease?" she asks. When would he have even seen Grease?

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam's head turns for a second to look, and he blinks. "Yeah," he confirms. Actually, there's just about every musical available on VHS on those shelves, among others. "Angel would probably tell you that the stage version is better if they were here."

    "I'm going to sit back down now," is the warning Bucky gets (plus a few seconds to object) before Sam drops back down on the edge of the table. "I know you don't, Buck. I know it's hard to see past that, but you'll feel better tomorrow. Just gotta get through tonight, okay?"

    His hands unfold from where he's been holding them, between his knees, and he reaches one out. But not all the way--it hovers in the middle distance between him and Bucky. "Is it alright if I put my hand on your arm?"

James Barnes has posed:
    "I like the music," Bucky replies. He still sounds a little far away, but he's commenting on the here and now. Really though? The Grease Soundtrack? He likes the music?

    He does't protest, nor move, nor freak out when Sam sits back down close by. He studies his friend's extended hand a little longer than necessary, brow furrowed. Just when it seems he might object, he asks, "Can I lay back down first?" He's still sitting and it's not a comfortable position right now.

    He actually waits for permission to lay down. It's still definitely not one hundred percent in his head. Still floaty and foggy and uncertain of even recent events.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Yeah?" Cael answers. She sounds a little bemused by this, but after a swig of her beer, she sets aside the almost empty drink, and moves towards the entertainment center. She turns the thing on, making sure the sound is down to a background noise level, and pops in the DVD - flicking through the 'scene selection' screen until she ends up on 'Summer Nights.' That sounds familiar-ish, so she hits play - paying no attention to the boys for the moment. Perhaps deliberately.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "Yeah, of course you can, Buck." Sam doesn't move to help him lay down or anything but he stays nearby, watching--not hovering, but only because he's putting actual mental effort into not doing so--except when he turns to figure out what Cael's doing. He nods at her, or maybe just to her back given her positioning.

    Once Bucky's horizontal again, all Sam does is wrap his hand around Bucky's forearm. He's aiming for grounding, and okay, maybe his thumb is placed just so that he can get a general idea of Bucky's pulse. Sam's medical training means he can maintain a count in his head while still talking. "That better?" he asks.

James Barnes has posed:
    "Yeah," Bucky murmurs. He closes his eyes. That pulse still isn't *healthy*, it's still rapid and thready, he is body's still working on that blood loss with the help of the IV. But it's not crazy thumping, feeling like something's about to explode levels of rapid.

    Did he fall asleep? He's still and quiet for a really long time. Maybe he does doze for a second or two, Olivia dancing behind his eyelids - 'cause really... she was fine back then.

    Maybe she's still dancing back there, because he doesn't open his eyes when he speaks. "I know I've been an ass, Sam. But if you don't trust me out there, none of them ever will and that means I don't really belong here." Not here, in this apartment... with SHIELD, with Peggy and Sam and Sharon; with the family he still doesn't understand he actually has.

Cael Becker has posed:
    By the time Bucky speaks - Cael has the show playing, and she's back to her drink, which she finishes off.
    If she'd had any thought of speaking up, the sheer vulnerability and intimacy of what she's just heard drives that from her mind - and quite abruptly, she steps out of the room entirely, and into the kitchenette. She still might be able to overhear.
    ...but she can at least pretend to give the two some modicum of privacy. She has that much decency in her, at least.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    There's not much Sam can do but sit there, keep his grip on Bucky's arm. Those still-unattended wounds are really concerning, admittedly, but giving Bucky any kind of medical treatment while he's unconscious and non-consenting is the last thing Sam's going to do. Because, seriously. Boundaries. They're a big deal!

    So his next exhale is basically a relieved sigh when Bucky speaks up. "You still think that's what this is about?" he asks, and then gives Bucky's arm one final squeeze before he pulls away. "I need to clean your wounds, Bucky. But if you want me to stop, if you need a minute, just say the word. If this takes all night then that's just what we gotta do."

    Given the okay to do so, Sam expounds upon his description of 'clean your wounds' so that Bucky has some awareness of what's coming next, which is basically flushing out those puncture wounds with sterile saline solution. A lot of sterile saline solution. "I get that the mission is important, I do. I went on two tours!" He knows Bucky knows this. After a second, Sam sighs. "But when I got out I was done, and that hasn't changed. If it's between the mission and keeping my people alive, I don't know if I'll ever be able to make that choice again. We gotta be better than that, right? Maybe I'm an idiot for signing back up if I can't do that anymore."

    The emesis basin can only catch so much saline, so there's a growing pile of wet towels on the floor, which is thankfully not carpeted. Sam's careful not to cause too much pain as he works, though there are probably a few moments when he has to switch out the flooding syringe--and he gives plenty of forewarning each time--where it's going to hurt anyway. "People we thought we could trust betrayed us for HYDRA," yep, that word is still basically a swear word, the way Sam grits it out, "We've got a bunch of people we care about trapped in the--" He doesn't finish that thought, aware that Cael is no longer in the room but possibly still in eavesdropping distance, "And then there's you, and Sharon, and Steve throwing yourselves in front of danger and that *scares the shit out of me*, Buck." Sam's voice is momentarily thick with emotion, and he glares down at the saline bottle in his hand like it's personally offending him.

    A few seconds later, he's steadier: "If you think that means I'm not fit to lead missions, then I'll step down. But don't ever question my trust in you. You're one of the few people in the world right now who I'll never doubt to have my back when we're out in the field." Maybe Sam would like a little bit more of it now, though.

James Barnes has posed:
    There are a few times that Bucky whispers or hisses out a 'stop'. It can't just be pain that causes that reaction, his pain threshold is insanely high. He walked all the way to the damned near meet point with his guts falling out.

    It's when something hits just the right way to make the pain 'familiar', or when the feeling of that cold saline brings broken, fragmented memories bubbling to the surface. It's not too often and after a few minutes the shaking and cold sweats that came with the protest subside and he gives a little nod to continue.

    "I dunno," he says between one of those little moments of Bad Brain Stuff. "Maybe you should." It physically hurts him and makes him feel sick to say that. "...until you sort it. Because Sam, you're more likely to lose one of us out there if you can't let the mission come first than if you can. It puts your focus on the wrong thing, then our focus is on the wrong thing and we're all looking south when the shit hits from the north. You gotta let us go north, while you're checkin' the south." ... a beat. "And for the love of God, you gotta let the dude that can live through damned near being gutted go first. I don't fly, you don't tank."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael has taken a position over the sink - hands braced against the counter, head hanging down. She's seen some Weird Shit in recent days - much of it in SHIELD's company. But not all of it. Her life wasn't exactly normal before, but she knew what risks she was in for. I mean, being torture, shot, and killed was always a possibility - if the people you were investigating somehow found out you were a fed.
    But it never included being eviscerated by a claw-lady, or kidnapped by fish-people before.
    What the hell, even?
    But she could be dead and buried under a saguaro right now - like Alis had been - if 'Devan' hadn't given her the kick in the pants she needed to get her life together. And if it wasn't already clear that Barnes needed back-up - the conversation she was overhearing from the neighboring room made that perfectly clear.
    And if her superiors at the Bureau ever figured out what she was doing on her spare time - limited as it was?
    "Fuck," she mutters quietly.
    She just better get her ride back, damnit.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    And Sam is, of course, respectful of every time Bucky calls out for a stop. He braces his elbows on his knees, gloved left hand slowly clenching and unclenching, the not-latex material squeaking slightly every once in a while. It's the only outward sign of Sam's own issues presenting themselves during this conversation, or at least the only one he allows himself.

    Well, the only one his brain is too strong to let Sam suppress, really.

    "Okay," he says, at the end, and then it's Sam that has to take a minute. Though of course he doesn't call for a stop, he just pulls back and stares, blinking several times, down at the floor between the couch and the table. There's a few scattered drops of saline he can see, though he's been careful enough in the most part that he'll be able to tidy up after and make it seem like none of this ever happened. "Okay. But even when I have my shit sorted, I'm never going to be the guy who does the math on how much damage you can take versus how much the mission needs to succeed. Because fuck that. You think I enjoy having to stitch my friends up when they're half-dead?" He shakes his head and then he's back to business for, guess what, more saline solution!

    Seriously, the risk of infection seems pretty high given that the knives Bucky was stabbed with came from *inside* another person. Thoroughness is more than appropriate here.

    "Just because that's not what you're used to," and Sam's maybe hinting at how he thinks Bucky was treated by HYDRA back when the Winter Soldier was in the pilot seat, "Doesn't mean it's the wrong way to do things."

James Barnes has posed:
    Bucky has said some pretty heart breaking things in the past. 'I'm not sure I'm worth all this', that's a big one. ... 'I know but I did it'... that's kinda sad too. They might pale a little in comparison to...

    "It's what I was made for, Sam." To take the damage, take the pain, finish the mission no matter what. "...but at least now I'm being used for the right reasons." The saddest part? He doesn't even have a clue why that's sad in the first place.

    Sam may notice, maybe he won't, but there's a pattern to when Bucky protests. It seems he's much more sensitive to anything poking, prodding or soaking anything that's directly over vital organs. Anything over his liver really brings it out. There's even one point when the treatment focuses the upper right-hand side that his eyes fall into that thousand yard start for a moment before the 'stop', turns into, "Stop stop stop, please..." He needs a little longer than a few minutes to recover from that one.

    But there has to be silver linings or they'd all be certifiable, not just Bucky. He's learning, something has finally clicked and he's learning what the 'trigger' feels like when it happens. The brain is a funny thing, maybe it's a smell, maybe everything turns a shade of purple, maybe it's something he feels like he hears like a bell or... whatever *it* is, he's definitely experiencing an awareness of 'slipping' before it happens.

Cael Becker has posed:
    After a while planted over the sink, Cael moves over to the table. She picks up the bottle of whiskey - pouring out three glasses. She drinks one of them, then refills the glass. With all three juggled into her hands - she finally makes her way back into the living room, setting the cups down on the edge of the coffee table. She doesn't know if a glass of whiskey is adviseable in James' condition but - fuck it. He survived a claw to the gut. The whiskey's not going to be the thing that kills him.
    "Look," she remarks. "I know I don't really know what's going on. I know I might not ever know what's going on. But... Devan," there's a momentary quirk of amusement to her lips as she uses that name. "...James," she says in its place a moment later. "You know I'm in your corner, right?" In the background - Travolta is singing Greased Lightning, while all three of them ignore it.
    Her gaze goes up to the bag of blood hanging from the potted plant - which was mostly empty now. "Give that a little longer, or you want me to switch the bags?" she asks Sam simply.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam's not ready for that one, and it makes him reel back a bit, eyes jumping up to Bucky's face before they're back down, on the work his hands are now frozen midway through the process of doing. "That's not--" he begins, but stops. Then, "You aren't--" but that doesn't take either.

    He doesn't even know what to say. It's mostly white noise in his head after that, but eventually with the help of some of that square breathing that he definitely does need to teach Bucky, Sam manages to say, "You're not something to be *used*. You're my friend." Which might not even be helpful. Maybe it'll make things actively worse. But the line where Sam is emotionally capable of putting enough distance between him and Bucky's problems to think about it in a clinical way is so far in the rearview mirror that Sam can't even see it any more.

    This really is going to take a while. All night, maybe. Most of it's on Bucky's need to stop and start, at length, which Sam is more than happy to honor. But also there are times when Sam himself needs a breather, which is a better sign than anything else that he's not got his shit together anymore.

    At least when he moves on to the suturing, Sam can administer as much local anesthetic as Bucky needs to not feel it. He had Jaime bring over more to supplement what was already in his kit for a damn reason.

    "Five more minutes, probably," he tells Cael regarding the blood bag, and then says, "Don't worry about it."

    It's a good point for Sam to pause, anyway, and he takes five minutes in the bathroom to quietly freak the fuck out before he shoves it up onto the shelf in his mind that is rapidly becoming a KALLAX unit from IKEA, all of his issues organized into little fabric storage bins, labelled and sorted.

    Then he washes his hands, puts a new pair of gloves on, and goes back out to finish the job.

    Eventually, Bucky's midsection is sporting a mound of bandages, and Sam has him on an IV of broad-spectrum antibiotics, though there's no pain relief because that would definitely have been asking too much of Jaime. After that Sam is ready to drop, but there's all the medical waste to dispose of, messes to clean, and Sam pushes past his exhaustion because that's just who he is.

James Barnes has posed:
    "It's not a good corner to be in," Bucky murmurs in reply to Cael. His voice is barely there and he doesn't look at her *at all*. See, he kind of forgot they weren't alone. Man, she heard all that shit.

    Now that he's very aware of the fact that it's not just him and Sam, Bucky shuts down a little. No more talking about anything. He doesn't even address the 'not something to be used'. The only indication Sam will get that Bucky is 'in trouble' through the rest of it is the way his body tenses or the way he suddenly flops his right arm over his eyes. He shuts that shit down.

    He lays awake, staring at the ceiling for a long time after it's all over, probably right on through Sam's cleaning that he wants to help with, but Sam'll throw a fit. When he finally drifts off, he sleeps a good four, five hours. Almost a record for him really.

    When Sam wakes up in the morning, he'll find Bucky's right hand resting somewhere on him, the Super Soldier is actually laying ON his stomach, his preferred way to sleep. ...because while he's not one hundred percent in that time, he's percent enough to not be in agony sleeping that way. It's a gentle reminder that... he is the Tank. ...and he was kind of made for this shit.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Yeah... Tough shit for both of us, I guess," Cael answers.
    Yes, she overheard all of that. But she has zero intention of ever bringing any of it up. It isn't her place.
    Now that she's extricated herself from her self-imposed exile to the kitchenette - Cael makes herself useful - putting on gloves again as she gathers up the various sterile packaging materials, and any discarded gauze, or other medical waste into a single bag. The wet towels are also bundled up, and replaced with more dry towels as she deposits these items in the laundry. She brings Sam a bag of chips when she notices they're taking a break from some of the treatments - and even drops off a sandwich. She'll give Sam increasingly pointed looks if he doesn't eat any of the offerings. It's been a long night, and he should bloody well eat something.
    And she periodically picks up one of the glasses of whiskey she'd brought out of the kitchen - so she can sip at it. She's earned her drinks tonight.
    Whenever Sam delivers the message that her car is outside - the boys will briefly find themselves completely alone as she runs outside to check on her ride, the relief in her expression and form palpable upon her return.
    Once she's sure that everything is tidied up, and that the medical treatments are taken care of for the night, she'll finally disappear to the bedroom after only a modicum of protest. ...really, a look at both of their faces tells her there's no chance of budging them. Maybe it's a 'doctor/patient' kinda thing - Sam wanting to keep an eye on his patient without forcing him to move.
    She doesn't think about it too much. She just tells them both goodnight - and retreats to the bedroom.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    If Bucky thinks that's 'shutting that shit down' then... well, Sam's not going to challenge him on it, not right now, but he still abides by the whole frequent breaks thing. He can read body language just fine, thanks.

    And Cael doesn't actually need to do much prodding to get him to eat. It's just that Sam inhales it in a few bites, definitely not tasting it at all, because he can at least acknowledge his body's need for calories. It's during one of those few moments that he checks his phone and gets some actual good news, which he relays to Bucky and Cael both; after she's back from checking on her car, Sam doesn't argue with her handling the bulk of the cleanup, but he still contributes some, at the end.

    When it's all over, that's when Sam knocks back the glass of whiskey set out for him--and Bucky's, sorry, definitely not letting him have that--before he slumps down onto the floor, tucks his back against the couch and is out like a fucking light.