snowblindrpg | [log] A Matter of Trust [closed]

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[log] A Matter of Trust [closed]

Characters: John Watson and Bucky Barnes
Location Building 235 (the Aquarium)
Date: Day 160 - Night
Summary: John's come to try to help Bucky with his frostbitten arm. Bucky was using that as a lure for a trap to interrogate Watson about what he knows. It's not going to end well for anyone.
Warnings: Excessive violence, blood, gangrene grossness

[The aquarium has the feel of a small-town tourist attraction, the sort built to give people just stopping to fuel up on petrol a reason to stay for an hour or two. As John makes it into the place, it's early evening. There are various aquariums inside that, according to plaques beside them, once showcased various Alaskan fish; they're empty now. He checks in the bathroom and finds that the water does, indeed run hot, and that's a relief. The whole atmosphere is kind of eerie, with the water casting rippling patterns on the walls, ceilings, and floors, but there's warm water, and John's just going to have to wait for Bucky since a look around tells him he's alone.

After washing up, himself in the sink, and taking the moment to shave and wash his hair, John goes looking in the gift shop. He finds a stuffed dolphin that he decides to keep for Ecks. As that leaves him still with no Bucky and time to occupy himself, the doctor sends a brief message out:]

@jwatson > @username
I'm here.

[When Bucky arrives, John is entirely preoccupied using his tablet light to read some of the plaques. His ears are tuned for the sounds of others, but someone making the effort could probably sneak up on him.]

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[For just a moment, it's like he's standing opposite Steve. That's exactly the sort of thing Captain America would come out with, always believing in people even when they fell far short of the standard.

He's no hero, but it's pointless to argue that now, it would just sound churlish and petty. He did something terrible here, and somehow he's not being punished for it yet. He raises his eyebrows, but he does step towards the door.]

This isn't over.

[They need to talk, things are unsaid that have to be said, but he'll leave it for now.

He steps outside and sinks to the floor, fumbling his tablet out to make some calls.]

[John would like to pretend he isn't actually afraid of Bucky right now, but that's... not actually true. He breaths a sigh of relief once the man is out, and as soon as he's cleaned, sanitized, and dressed the wound on his leg with a great deal of wincing and pained grunts, he takes a break to down a few aspirin and just recover before he goes after his nose... and ribs. God, bending around like this is killing them.

While recovering, it seems prudent to put out a call to someone who might be able to help. He doesn't like turning to Clint when the poor man's just lost Steve, but he doesn't know who else to call. Fiona? He doesn't want her seeing him like this... or asking questions. So, Clint it is.]

[Bucky, too, makes calls of his own.

Calls that leave him feeling worse than before, somehow. Natasha, though she didn't coddle him, was still kind and it throws him. He doesn't understand these people, like Watson and Natasha, who almost seem like they're making excuses for him. A good man underneath, what a joke. But it's Tony that drives home just how far he's slipped, so nonchalant that he never needed to get the information at all.

By the time he fumbles his way back into the bathroom he looks utterly blank, closed off. He looks Watson up and down, he looks like crap, and remains by the door.]

I'll be gone in the morning, someone is coming to make sure I don't hurt anyone like this again.

[John's cleaned up a little bit. His face is no longer covered in blood from the nose bleed, but his jeans are off completely, washed and hung up to dry off the side of the sink. It's freezing like this, but he'd rather not deal with caked blood along the seat of his trousers and down the leg. This makes the bandage around his upper thigh visible.

When Bucky steps in, John has his cold water bottle to the bridge of his nose. It's the best he has in the absence of snow. It hurts like hell, and he's wheezing between the broken nose and the broken ribs. Bending all over the place isn't good for him right now, but it has to be done, regardless of the pain.

John sets the water bottle down and turns to Bucky the moment he hears him. Right. Time to deal with this.]

No, you won't. You're undergoing an operation in the morning. That arm needs to come off, Bucky. I'm sorry. A good bit of the tissue around it, as well. I have someone who's agreed to bring by their lighter so we have fire and I can cauterize the wounds. It will be easier for me to perform this procedure with a nurse - assistant.

You will die if you let that gangrene go much longer. We're not in a position here to properly treat for it or sepsis, but I can do more for the latter than the former. I'm going to request antibiotics from the admin along with pain medication. The Fentora will put you under for the procedure, but it's not a solution for pain management.

And I am aware that Ms. Romanov and Mr. Barton are heading this way. I did try to tell Mr. Barton it was one of the aquarium tanks that fell on me, but apparently Ms. Romanov told him differently from you. You didn't need to tell them. I would've stuck by that story. And it or something like it is what you'll need to tell anyone else who asks. I don't want someone trying to lock you up or avenge me for a mistake, Bucky.

[That's a whole lot of words, a onslaught of them after the minimal amount they've been saying to each other, and Bucky just stands there staring. For just a moment, Watson reminds him so strongly of Steve. All beaten to hell and back, and still proclaiming them friends. This isn't the same thing by a long shot. He was in control of himself here, and Watson isn't trying to be friends with him. He's just trying to do the right thing as a doctor.

Which is still a hell of a lot more than he deserves.

He nods in acquiescence to waiting another day, at least, he isn't suicidal and he had thought any amputations would be done tonight. If he has to wait until tomorrow, he can do that. But that's the only thing he's agreeing to.]

Look at what I did to you, you don't think I should be locked up?

[He stays by the door, just taking in the damage from head to toe.]

I don't know why you're being like this. [He does, it's because Watson is a good man, like Steve.] But you don't need to lie for me. I'll face the consequences for what I've done.

[He smiles, a bitter twist of his lips.]

You should stay in here, lock the door. Part of me is still convinced you're holding something back. [His brows are furrowed, he hates that he can't trust his own head. He doesn't know where this paranoia came from, but it's so hard to fight it.] I'm-- I'm sorry.

Edited 2016-09-23 15:30 (UTC)

[It's a lot more talking than John is comfortable with right now when he sounds ragged, nasally, and half out of breath. Talking hurts, moving hurts, existing hurts. But he knows Bucky's not in much better shape, just... taking it better. Probably.]

I think you made a mistake, and it's not one you're looking to repeat.

Look, I won't lie to you, mate - [And isn't that the problem here?] - I'm pissed and I'm scared. You hurt me for no good reason, I can't run anymore, which makes me a liability to any group I'm with, and you tricked me into coming down here so you could interrogate me.

But what I'm most frustrated about is you setting yourself back. You didn't need this, it's not going to be good for you. You know that, and you're going to punish yourself for it. I don't need anyone else taking responsibility for stringing you up, especially when you're not going to learn anything from it.

Edited 2016-09-23 15:47 (UTC)

Stop it.

[It makes it harder, it makes it worse, that everyone has been understanding. Talking about being pissed and scared is all well and good, but he's still thinking of Bucky's well-being. Tony apologised and thanked him, Natasha promised she was still there for him. It's not that he wants to be shunned, exactly, it just feels so wrong.

He's frustrated as all hell, voice rising, though he doesn't move any closer.]

Listen to yourself, defending me. What the hell is wrong with you? You just said I hurt you for no good reason, and you're right. Tony didn't even want the information, he didn't even care that I couldn't get it. And I still hurt you for it.

[His voice is a snarl now, but it's mostly directed inwards.]

You're pissed and scared? Good, you should be. Hold onto that, because I'm not safe to be around and maybe you should be less concerned about what's good for me and more concerned about what's good for you.

What's good for me is not railing against something when it's pointless. We both got hurt here, Bucky. I hurt you, as well, you'll remember. [Granted, John had purposefully avoided a few chances to inflict heavier damage on Bucky in favor of just trying to get away, but that's to one side.]

You're scared, too. You told me you don't think there's a way out of this for you, that it's gone too far. But you stopped. Why? Because there is a way out and you didn't go too far. You had the chance to do a hell of a lot worse to me. You didn't. I'm not going to ignore that, either, just because I'm upset.

[He's not even going to dignify that first bit with a response. Watson barely hurt him in return, nothing lasting, and even if he had then it had all been self defence.]

I still might.

[He won't. But Watson's right that he's scared, and this understanding is killing him. It's too reminiscent of Steve, and the idea that he hurt someone who might be as good a man as Steve Rogers is truly awful. 'Just because he's upset', like they had a minor argument or something.]

You're wrong, it's already gone too far and I don't know how to stop it. Even now--

[No.

He stops himself. He's not going to explain about the paranoia that he just can't seem to shake, he's not going to make excuses that trivialise what he did. He lets out a shaky breath through his teeth and forces himself to change tack.]

Your leg, did I get through the tendon?

Even now, it's eating at you that this is all an act, that I'm gonna spring something on you. Yeah. I get it. [John taps the side of his head.] Trust issues and paranoia. It's what my therapist put down in my psych evaluation, too.

Forget about my leg. I'll manage. I've walked with a cane before.

[For a psychosomatic limp on this side. With phantom pain that about mimics what he's dealing with now. Lovely. It's not something he's going to be able to run off with Sherlock's help, though.]

[His eyes narrow, pretty much a given that Watson has hit the nail on the head, but he doesn't answer. He's not going to use excuses.

What he does do is swing his backpack around where it's been slung over his good shoulder since he came back in, and dig out a small pill bottle with the prescription name torn off. He pops the cap and tosses one of the pills towards Watson.]

Vicodin, for the pain.

[At least he can do that much.]

A cane isn't much good in terrain like this, you'll just aggravate it walking more.

[Yes, please, let's focus on Watson.]

[John catches the pill. It's either one of Alfie's or one of House's. Honestly, he's not terribly bothered at the moment which; they can spare it. He does, however, pull out his scalpel and carefully cut the pill in half before taking it. He doesn't want to be stoned out of his head.]

Thank you, but we don't have the luxury of sitting around. I'd rather not catch cabin fever, personally.

Then I'll carry you until you find some other people, ones you can trust.

[He doesn't enjoy the prospect of sticking with Watson after what he did, and he's quite sure that Watson also wants Bucky to be gone as soon as is humanly possible. But he's not going to walk away and leave this man to die by fending for himself in these conditions, not when that death would be on his hands.]

You're gonna be down an arm and in a hell of a lot of pain tomorrow, Bucky. We'll help each other, but you're not going to be able to carry me. I'm small. I'm not that small. Thank you.

[The last part is added in a very dry tone.]

[He doesn't look amused, voice carefully neutral.]

I was trained to carry on through worse. I can carry you one handed, you're small enough for that.

I don't care what you were trained for. You're my patient and that's not good for you. I have a limp. I'm not a bloody invalid.

[There's irritation edging into his voice now. This is like before, people focusing on his leg, poor Dr. Watson, can barely walk, let alone do anything else for himself. It grates in ways that Bucky wouldn't know about.]

No, but you will be if you walk on that leg before it's healed up some.

[He stands his ground, it's easier to focus on Watson right now, easier than fighting off the panic inducing maelstrom in his own head.]

I'm not saying you're incapable of carrying on, I'm telling you it'll just damage you more.

Thank you, doctor. I know my own limits.

[Bucky is right, but that just makes it all the more galling.]

[If there is anyone who has no right to push John Watson on anything right now, it's him. But he does it anyway.]

I believe you.

[A pause, eyes fixed on Watson's.]

If you know your limits, you know I'm right.

[Surprisingly, in all of this, the attention on his own frailties is what's making John the angriest. He doesn't like feeling helpless. He doesn't like having to rely on other people, rather than choosing to do so. Apart from his hands, this about the worst injury he could sustain here in practical terms.

So enjoy a small, beat up doctor glaring at you while stood in his skivvies, Bucky. John is silent for a long moment.]

You can carry me if we run into an anomaly. I'm walking on my own until then. We're not even leaving tomorrow. I'll see where I'm at then.

[He's seen worse.

The glare is actually kind of comforting, it's more natural. Watson should be angry with him, should be wary of him. Though he's still sort of taken aback by the assumption they're going to travel together even without Bucky carrying him to meet some friends.]

You're coming with me?

[Carefully neutral.]

You're my patient. And you were my friend. I'm worried about you. What happened here? That doesn't change things. I'm not gonna let you just wander around on your own after taking your arm off.

[It's a small stab in the gut to hear Watson had considered him a friend in return. His jaw tightens visibly. A hilarious joke that he managed to ruin his first friendship since the Soldier. He's lucky the man even considers him a patient any longer.

He's not sure he's worth the trouble, but he can't deny that he's grateful, expression softening just slightly for the first time since this all began.]

I don't deserve your consideration after everything, but thank you.

No. What you don't deserve is that little voice in your head making you question every motive and action from the people around you. No one does. You've got it worse than me, but with my casebook going public? Yeah. I've gotta worry now. Who's read it? Who's going to use it against me? What else do they know? Have they been hiding what they knew about me all along? How are they going to get me with it? And even before that, the people who recognized me as some literary character? Yesterday really didn't help any of that.

So let's not talk about what you deserve, all right, mate? Just take a damn Vicodin and at least let me wash your shoulder and dress the wounds there before you go to sleep.

[Watson is delusional if he thinks Bucky is going to sleep at all tonight.]

They've all read it.

[It's probably not comforting, but it is true.]

Information is gold here, everyone will have read it and the people that haven't will get a copy from the people that have. Some people will use it against you, and some people won't. You'll drive yourself mad if you spend all your time trying to work it out.

[But he knows what that's like, the look in his eyes says it clearly. He spent eighteen long months assuming every person on the street knew who he was, that every parked van was surveillance. He moved every few weeks, he second guessed everyone and everything.]

Sorry.

[He doesn't have any advice, just the sympathy for what living like that will be like. He's not so naive as to try and reassure him that it won't make a difference.]

[log] A Matter of Trust [closed]

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cw: mentions of suicide

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